The Omniscrolls

I grew up by the sea and spent most of my weekends with my parents at the beach. We would always watch the sun sink into the fiery horizon, and I would take in the scent and the tenderness of the sea breeze as I watched the giant waves swallow the shore and crash into the nearby rocks. It was a tranquility that no amount of words could ever describe. I continued my family’s tradition even after my parents were gone, visiting the beach whenever I was free on weekend evenings. Five years had passed since they were taken from me in a car crash, but their memory still lived on both in me and at this beach. I often worked on paintings by the beach as well; it was the only way I knew to express the feelings locked deep within me every time I was there. My husband Ben would sometimes join me, but he was often impatient and would sometimes break my concentration. We were seated on a rock while I painted one day when his impatience began to test my limits. I needed hours to focus on my work, so...

It was noon, and I was in bed when I heard mom knocking on the door and asking if she could come inside. Once she was inside, however, she looked around with exhaustion. “Melina, you need to clean this mess today.” I sighed and covered my face with my blanket. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Mom raised her voice. “That’s what you said yesterday. No more excuses, do it now!” “Fine,” I said, dragging myself out of bed. I barely had three hours of sleep the night before. But mom looked even worse; the bags under her eyes had grown larger and darker over the past week. Mom then walked up to me and started picking some of the clothes that were scattered about. “I’m sorry I yelled,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. I suddenly found mine growing misty as well. I leaned in and hugged her tight. “It’s alright, mom. I’m sorry, I should’ve cleaned my room sooner.” It was only two weeks ago that my father abandoned mom and me and ran off with his secretary. We were yet to find out where he was, but u...

It was past midnight when Athena finished writing the next day’s news feature about the superhero Pluton. She switched off her laptop and walked into her room, but before she knew it, someone grabbed her from the shadows and injected her with a tranquiliser. Hours passed. Athena awakened only to find herself chained to a chair at the centre of a dimly lit room with her abductor standing before her. She could only see his silhouette, which was surrounded by the flickering light of the bulb fixed on the wall behind him. She looked around; the other parts of the room were barely visible, but she could see that there were no doors or windows on either side; the only visible exit was behind her abductor. “Get comfortable. You’ll be here for a while,” the man said, his voice stern. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” “Pluton. Just how much do you know about him?” Athena was confused. Was this man a fanatic? Was he planning something against Pluton? She didn’t know what to say. “Speak!” ...

We were having dinner when Jeff’s phone rang. He said it was a work call and rushed to the living room to answer it. This had been happening for weeks and I found it strange. He said it was because they were working on a big project, but I wasn’t so sure. He had similar long-term projects before, but he never acted this way. Over time, it seemed like he was more and more detached. In the weeks that came, he started hanging out with his friends till late every now and then, saying they were getting drinks after work, but I suspected there was more to it than that. One night, I took his phone while he was asleep and carefully grabbed his hand to unlock it with his fingerprints. I felt my heart sink and my stomach wring when I went through the many messages between him and Anne, my sister! The phone shook in my hand so much that I had to grip it tight before it could fall. I sat there on the floor and leaned against the wall as tears began to fill my eyes. How could they do this? What was...

It had been only two days since I returned to my childhood home after my dad left it for me in his will. That night, I woke up at 3:00 a.m. to the strange feeling of being watched; I inspected the house and found no one there, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone. Something was amiss—I could feel it. And then I heard a voice. “Sana, please help me.” I sprang out of my bed and turned the lights on before grabbing the bat next to my desk. “Who’s there?” I asked, looking around. The room was empty. I began to walk towards my bedroom door when the voice returned. “It’s me, Bugsy. Don’t you remember me?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m calling the cops.” “But they won’t see or hear me.” The voice suddenly whispered past my ear with a chilling breeze. It almost made me trip as I stepped back. I wondered the impossible: was I being haunted? “Wh-what are you?” “I’m your childhood imaginary friend. Go to the basement and look inside the chest. There will b...