Norakz

INTRODUCTION

  The rain outside was falling at a very dull pace, and it seemed a deep fog had covered the earth, and even, perhaps…beyond. But that was then. Looking back on it all I’m actually surprised I didn’t end up locked up somewhere, or am even alive to tell the tale. But the tale must be told…and so now…I will tell it…
 
CHAPTER ONE

It happened on a dreary April afternoon when all you could do was sit around and read or, I suppose, look out the window. Neither sounded too appealing at the time, but later I would regret not taking that last moment before I lost any small tad of sanity that I thought I once possessed, to pick up a book, or to gaze out at the millions of ice crystals melting and falling to the earth.
  I resigned my standing position. I had been sitting on the cool tile floor of the hallway that lied between my room, and my brother’s, and the deep grouts had begun to leave bruises on my legs. Once standing, I walked over and into his room. My entry had been noticed, and his eyes targeted me from behind his reading glasses. In hand was a copy of an old comic “Norakz the Son”. One of his favorites, I guess. I had seen him flipping through it often. His gaze was still locked onto me.
  “Yeah?” he inquired.
  “I just wanted to know if Mom or Dad mentioned when they’d be home.”
  “How am I to know? You might ask Jango”
  “Oh…well…thanks.”
  “No problem.”
  It was going to be a pretty long walk to Jango’s office. It was the only room on the other side of the property. It would take at least five minutes to get there from where I was. The property used to be a fortress from which the Wicca kings of old ruled over the surrounding area. There was supposedly a curse over the fortress itself, and supposedly the Wicca kings’ spirits still hang around the place, and supposedly they’re going to give the touch of death to any living thing that dwells here. I know what you’re thinking… lol right? I mean that is the cheesiest Hollywood-material stuff I’ve seen for a long while. The only one in my family that believes it is my younger sister, Storm. Then again, she would believe anything you told her. By now I’d learned not to tell her anything that might get her riled up for nothing. Lately she’d been going off about some intruders that she thought had broken in one night, though in my mind this is easily categorized as a dream.
  I had arrived at my destination, and already wrapped on the tall oak door. There was an unexpected silence overtaking the air. Usually one could hear from beyond the wood a faint tapping of keys on a keyboard, or the crackling of pages being turned. And so now, this silence was more than silence…it was mystery, and suspense. It had never been this deathly quiet before. It was hard to gather up the courage, but somehow I managed. My hand grabbed the ancient wooden knob…and that was it…the door was open. What I saw next chilled every bone in my body and more. It ushered me into a deep trance almost as if time itself had stopped…but it was all there, or maybe more importantly…wasn’t
  It couldn’t happen…but it did…right? Was I really standing here? I was standing at a doorway, but beyond the door there was nothing more than air. Jango…the office…it was all gone. There was only sheer nothingness…and I was afraid that what once in peaceful existence might never return. There might not ever be anymore keys tapping, or pages turning. But what got me the most…where was Jango? Was he nothing more than a dream? Was I still in that trance of shock that came when I first opened the door? I stood there like that…thinking. As you yourself may have figured out at some point, thinking isn’t always enough. The situation at hand would not only require a lot of actionless thought, but also quite a bit of thoughtless action. But one thing I knew for sure…I had to find Jango…and that was that.