Draconicon
January 16th, 2009, 10:39 PM
Intro
Emails from a stranger never quite mean what they seem at first. Sometimes, they seem perfectly obvious, sometimes they don’t, but they never, ever mean what you might think they mean at first glance. Take it from someone who learned that in a most interesting way.
About three months ago, I started to receive emails from a person that only identified himself as Hallon, and he told me many interesting stories about a world that he claimed lay on another dimension from ours. He was actually quite a storyteller, as I read over the records of the emails that we had exchanged. I still have them, even now. They are perhaps the only proof of what happened, besides this journal I’ve decided to write.
Over the three months we talked to each other, Hallon painted a vivid picture of his world. Filled with creatures from many fantasy worlds, including dragons, werewolves, griffins, elves, and dwarves, the only thing that it seemed to lack were humans. But that was beside the point. He claimed that he was going to come for me, and take me to his world of Vernadum, because I was the reincarnation of their greatest general from the past.
Of course, such emails were ridiculous. I am fond of the many fantasy novels that had been published, and I also enjoy a good roleplay. However, this guy sounded like a total madman, so after those three months of listening to such messages, I simply began deleting the messages that came in. I didn’t wish to listen to anymore of this stranger’s rantings.
About that time, my life took a turn for the stranger.
Though the emails stopped, I was finding strange little items during my day. At college, I would find little notes under my backpack at the end of a class, getting up from a computer and getting my ID card, and even hanging from the paper towel roll after I washed my hands in the restroom. Each of them had the same message, in the same handwriting, each time.
“The time to leave is drawing close. I will take you to your true home soon.”
Of course, such things were not comforting to see. Notes like that being snuck that close were things that you saw just before someone was kidnapped on TV, or so I thought at the time. Tempted as I was to give these things to the security guards around campus, or even to the police, I kept them for myself. I don’t know why I did that then, and I doubt that I ever will. I guess it just felt good to have someone take that much interest in me.
Thinking about what I just wrote there, I suppose many kidnapping victims have thought the same just before their abductor came to grab them. But, I never claimed that I was smart about this little situation, did I?
About a week after the notes started, they suddenly stopped. I went from cautious to paranoid in three days, expecting to find a note, or worse, a person jumping from the shadows to grab me, and take me somewhere where I’d never see another living soul. The imaginations of one newly arrived at adulthood is potent indeed, and it didn’t help that my own family was an avid fan of true crime shows.
After yet another week without any letters or notes from this mysterious person, I thought perhaps that whatever this whole thing had been, be it a prank, madman’s dream, or attempted crime, was over with. A whole week had gone by with no contact whatsoever, so what else could I have thought?
I never would have thought that I would wake up one morning with the nose of a dragon through my window, leaning over my bed, with an elf on his back staring at me as well. I never would have expected to be grabbed out of my covers in nothing but a pair of briefs, slapped onto the back of a black dragon, and then yanked through the skies, into a portal, and out of my own world, only to land in the world described to me only through emails.
The world of Vernadum.
Emails from a stranger never quite mean what they seem at first. Sometimes, they seem perfectly obvious, sometimes they don’t, but they never, ever mean what you might think they mean at first glance. Take it from someone who learned that in a most interesting way.
About three months ago, I started to receive emails from a person that only identified himself as Hallon, and he told me many interesting stories about a world that he claimed lay on another dimension from ours. He was actually quite a storyteller, as I read over the records of the emails that we had exchanged. I still have them, even now. They are perhaps the only proof of what happened, besides this journal I’ve decided to write.
Over the three months we talked to each other, Hallon painted a vivid picture of his world. Filled with creatures from many fantasy worlds, including dragons, werewolves, griffins, elves, and dwarves, the only thing that it seemed to lack were humans. But that was beside the point. He claimed that he was going to come for me, and take me to his world of Vernadum, because I was the reincarnation of their greatest general from the past.
Of course, such emails were ridiculous. I am fond of the many fantasy novels that had been published, and I also enjoy a good roleplay. However, this guy sounded like a total madman, so after those three months of listening to such messages, I simply began deleting the messages that came in. I didn’t wish to listen to anymore of this stranger’s rantings.
About that time, my life took a turn for the stranger.
Though the emails stopped, I was finding strange little items during my day. At college, I would find little notes under my backpack at the end of a class, getting up from a computer and getting my ID card, and even hanging from the paper towel roll after I washed my hands in the restroom. Each of them had the same message, in the same handwriting, each time.
“The time to leave is drawing close. I will take you to your true home soon.”
Of course, such things were not comforting to see. Notes like that being snuck that close were things that you saw just before someone was kidnapped on TV, or so I thought at the time. Tempted as I was to give these things to the security guards around campus, or even to the police, I kept them for myself. I don’t know why I did that then, and I doubt that I ever will. I guess it just felt good to have someone take that much interest in me.
Thinking about what I just wrote there, I suppose many kidnapping victims have thought the same just before their abductor came to grab them. But, I never claimed that I was smart about this little situation, did I?
About a week after the notes started, they suddenly stopped. I went from cautious to paranoid in three days, expecting to find a note, or worse, a person jumping from the shadows to grab me, and take me somewhere where I’d never see another living soul. The imaginations of one newly arrived at adulthood is potent indeed, and it didn’t help that my own family was an avid fan of true crime shows.
After yet another week without any letters or notes from this mysterious person, I thought perhaps that whatever this whole thing had been, be it a prank, madman’s dream, or attempted crime, was over with. A whole week had gone by with no contact whatsoever, so what else could I have thought?
I never would have thought that I would wake up one morning with the nose of a dragon through my window, leaning over my bed, with an elf on his back staring at me as well. I never would have expected to be grabbed out of my covers in nothing but a pair of briefs, slapped onto the back of a black dragon, and then yanked through the skies, into a portal, and out of my own world, only to land in the world described to me only through emails.
The world of Vernadum.