Ghostwriter: A Novel by Travis Thrasher

Author:Travis Thrasher [THRASHER, TRAVIS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Horror, FIC042060, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 0446505587
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2009-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

3.

The phone jolted him awake. It was late afternoon, but he had been dozing at his desk after drinking a couple beers to loosen up. All they had done was make him more tired. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the phone on his desk, alive and wailing, screaming to be answered.

It’s him again.

He had already spoken to Audrey twice today. He had told her to be careful—not alluding to anything, not saying anything like, Hey, by the way, there’s an aspiring writer who’s been watching and stalking and harassing me who left a photo in a box and referred to the climax of Se7en so hey, have a great day.

Audrey had to persuade him not to get on a plane and come out to see her.

If he didn’t think his stalker might follow him, Dennis would be on a plane now.

The phone continued to ring. He finally picked it up, clicking it on without saying anything.

“Hello?” The voice allowed him to breathe. It was Maureen. “Dennis? Is that you?”

“Yes. Hi, Maureen. Sorry, I’m just up here in my office.”

“Figured I’d check in with you. Can you talk?”

“Sure.”

“I was going to write you an e-mail but thought I’d just give you a call and let you know my thoughts about the chapters you sent.”

“About what?” Dennis asked, having no idea what she was talking about.

“The first few chapters—the ones you e-mailed me a couple days ago. For One of These Days?”

He paused. Didn’t breathe. Just listened, wondering what she was talking about.

“I didn’t realize you had changed the title.”

He sat up.

“Changed the title?”

“Yes. Brain Damage, huh? Interesting title. It works.”

“It does?”

“Sure. And I have to say—it was quite… well, it was quite dark.”

“Dark?” he repeated, not knowing what else to say, too numb to speak.

“It seems very different from anything you’ve written.”

“Really?” He knew what she was talking about. But…

Did I send her those chapters? Did I somehow do it when I was dreaming? When I was in a fog?

“Different, but in a good way. It’s extremely disturbing.”

“Disturbing—in a good way?”

“More disturbing than anything you’ve done before,” Maureen said. “But—it’s also quite remarkable. It has a visceral edge to it. And it even has more of a literary feel.”

He forced a halfhearted chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Dennis, are you okay?”

“Sure,” he said.

You just received several chapters of another book I didn’t write, in an e-mail I didn’t send.

“You don’t sound very excited. This is good, Dennis. You’re making tremendous progress. I’m sure this sort of story isn’t particularly easy to write, especially the violence—”

He didn’t hear anything else she said.

Dennis could make out words on the other line, could hear himself answering them, but nothing connected.

Nothing except that somehow Cillian had gotten to her.

But then he heard her final thoughts.

“Dennis—I don’t think you understand me. This might be the most important book you’ve ever written. It’s disturbing, but it’s also—well, frankly, I think it’s profound.”

He swallowed, fighting the feeling that he was falling off a skyscraper. Because he was. Free-falling.

And sooner or later he’d land.

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