Alistair Moon's Mysterious Book of Magic

Living with inter-dimensional consequences. Fantasy flash fiction.

My dad would have said, what's done is done. My mom would have said, let sleeping dogs lie. As for me, I'm just going to say I'm sorry. If it's any consolation to those of you who have lost loved ones, both my parents are dead as well. It doesn't make what I've done any less horrible, but maybe you'll have a little sympathy by knowing I've also suffered for my choices.

Why do I need to apologize? I was the one who caused the inter-dimensional rift, letting those awful monsters into our universe.

Many scientists have tried to make sense of how the door was opened between our dimension and the next, mostly so they could close it before we're extinct. It was a pointless exercise. There was no scientific reason to speak of, although I was never good at science in school so I shouldn't make assumptions. What I do know is the primary cause was Alistair Moon's Mysterious Book of Magic, more specifically, me reading the incantation on page two hundred and thirty-seven.

I came into possession of the book ten years ago through mail order. My dad trashed several of his boyhood comics from the 1980s after learning they were worth nothing more than sentimental value. I rescued a few, but instead of being fascinated by the hulking superheroes and witty dialogue, I was drawn to a small advertisement in the back of a fantasy issue named Wizards and Warlocks: 3D Adventures.

There were actually two mail order offers, one for live seahorses and the other for the book of magic. I sure do wish I had a tank full of seahorses right about now, but there's no going back. I checked — the spell was irreversible, as were most of them, which my older brother found out about the hard way.

He kept teasing me about the purchase, telling me it was foolish, how gullible I was, and that three month's allowance had basically been flushed down the toilet.

"You don't send cash in the mail, dummy. Besides, it's a scam from when dad was a kid. You think they're even still around?" he asked rhetorically.

When it finally arrived, in a nondescript brown wrapping paper with no return address, he laughed, goading me into casting some dark magic. I could tell he was just jealous.

"Come on, Merlin, make me disappear!" he said with a smirk.

The vanishing invocation was on page one hundred and thirteen. Later I would learn, much too late, that making someone vanish was not the same as making them invisible. There was a separate page for that, but by the time my brother was caving in on himself I could do nothing. His body crumbled like a thin piece of paper, and then shrunk down smaller and smaller until he was no more.

Before his vocal cords were crushed, he had enough time to scream for help. My parents rushed in, seeing nothing but me and the book, and had assumed the open bedroom window meant that he was abducted. For six months the authorities, family and friends searched, put up flyers and tried to reconcile with the idea that he had vanished into thin air. I didn't tell them anything different.

They fell into a deep depression, my dad becoming a lazy drunk and losing his job, and my mom taking to kleptomania in order to feel any measure of emotion. After her third arrest she was finally sent to county lockup for six months. I went to live with her sister, Aunt Cathy, but the world was a much lonelier place — one in which I didn't want to live.

"Can I tell you a secret, Aunt Cathy?" I asked.

"Sweetie, you can tell me anything. What's on your heart?" she asked.

I told her everything. She sent me to a psychiatrist, and they put me on medication. I decided not to tell anyone else after that. Instead, I wanted to disappear forever, just not in the horrific fashion like my brother.

For days I searched for the right spell, which finally led me to page two hundred and thirty-seven. The heading was Cease and Desist Denouement, and the description read,

Your final bow,
no more spells.
End it now,
ring death's bells.

The words below that, in an unfamiliar ancient tongue, I pronounced to the best of my abilities. When I was done a thunderous crack was heard all around, so loud that it shook the windows, and I closed my eyes waiting for certain death. Instead, a massive hole opened in the sky, producing a blue glowing vortex, its swirling tail touching down to the ground.

All types of strange creatures began walking, crawling and flying out of its center, which signaled the end not only for me, but for all of humanity. The shrieks from mothers as their children were gobbled whole, indicated I needed to try and fix the abominable act. It was then I realized what no more spells truly meant. The book was rendered powerless.

No matter how many of the creatures are killed, still even more appeared in all sorts of ungodly forms. I'm sure they'll stop coming in the future when, or if, we're all dead. My only hope is to try and enter the base of the vortex and reason with whatever is on the other side. I doubt I'll be successful, but I leave here knowing I've given it a try.

I leave behind the book with this account of events. Never again will I trust a man by the name of Alistair Moon.