by Easton Livingston
© Copyright 2020
Published by 4Six3 Media
Second Edition
Introduction
Welcome. My name is Easton Livingston. By picking up this book, you have gained access through one of the many entry points into The Tapestry.
The place where you have entered is called The Dark Corner, a series of short stories, novelettes, and novellas meant to introduce potential citizens to what I have affectionately called the R.I.U. (Reality Imagination Universe). There are five in all and yes, there is an order to them. The further you get in, the longer the stories are. By the end you have, in effect, a full novel.
The first three stories in the series are calledThe Inception Trilogy. They include: #1 -The Visitor which you are reading now,#2 -The Forest, and #3 -The Gift. The last two stories are #4 -The Basement and the last story #5 -The Confrontation.
Before you enter, I want to invite you to become an R.I.U. Citizen. R.I.U. Citizens will be alerted when my books will available for free. They also get exclusive access to the Veiled Athenaeum. This is content of the stories behind the stories. So, if you're not a part of the R.I.U. community, just tap the link below to become an R.I.U. Citizen:
Sign Up as an RIU Citizen. Tap This Link
I applaud you. The shadowy labyrinth of The Dark Corner can be hard to navigate. Strange, disturbing things happen here. Discernment is a key attribute. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm…informing you.
The door is open. You may enter.
Episode 1
Part I - I'm Not Alone Here
He didn't know how long he was sitting there in the shadows. His knees were numb from sitting in the same position for... well... he really didn't know how long. It took a few minutes to clear the cobwebs from the crevices in his mind. Something was going on. He must have dozed off or something. The dark outline of the La-Z-Boy was all he could see in front of his face a foot away as he tried to get his bearings. Then, he remembered.
He was there.
The thought caused his heart to race, trepidation constricting the muscles in his stomach. His ears were in an instant at full attention, listening for a creek in the floor, a shuffle of feet over the carpet.
He was there.
Dana didn't know why that was the first thing that came into his mind. He knew it was true. The intruder was following him and had been for too long. How he had gotten into the house in the first place was a mystery and unnerving.
It was not the first time Dana had an awareness of his presence. He'd seen him before. More than once. The first time was about six months prior. Dana was leaving the apartment and had that feeling of being watched, a palpable presence just on the periphery of his senses. When he turned around to face who it was, they weren't there. After that, the encounters increased. At work. At the store. While out to eat with his wife which was the first time Dana had heard his voice. Clear. Distinct. Each encounter brought him into closer contact which left him timorous, a feeling he was sure was the point of the tactic.
Tonight it all had come to a head. As Dana was leaving the apartment in a hurry, he bumped into someone going through the glass doors. He took two steps and froze. It was him. He knew it.
He spoke four words.
“I'm coming for you.”
He rushed down the sidewalk, intent on not looking back. He wanted to turn around, wanted to face him. But he couldn't. So he kept moving, those four words ringing in his head over and over on the drive home.
He stood up, his legs weak and wobbling, invisible needles pricking his nerves as they came back to life. Bracing his back against the wall for support, he ventured a cautious peek over the back edge of the lounge chair. The living room, done in its posh, Victorian style, was empty. The only sound he heard was the furnace kicking in again which interfered with him being able to discern anything if it was there.
He felt trapped. Trapped in his own house which frightened and incensed him. Dana had done nothing to this man, nothing, though he had a vague sense he knew him. Maybe at the grocery store or the factory. Old employee? He couldn't pin it down. It didn't matter now. What mattered was he was threatening him in his own house. He had to figure out what to do.
Dana stood against the wall for a few moments as he tried to formulate a plan. He could leave the house and flee somewhere the man could not find him but he rejected that idea almost as quickly as it entered his head. What was he going to tell the police? He'd never seen the man before so he couldn't give them a description. He didn't have a name, address, or what car he drove. Though he didn't know these details, something bothered him. There was something in the back of his mind like a splinter agitating his memories as if he knew but whatever knowledge he possessed was being suppressed. Plus, he had a feeling the man would find him no matter where he went. He had so far. That kind of relentless pursuit dies hard.
Embers of anger burgeoned, mix with fear at the realization that this intruder was invading the privacy of his own home. His home. The old saying was true. A man's home was his castle, and he wasn't about to let this man ruin everything he'd worked for. Yes. There were detractors, those that believed how he had gotten those things was suspect. Not in an illegal sense but in an ethical one. They could cry all they wanted. You can't be the top businessman in a region without
