[NOTE from the author: I don't know where I am going with this. So I will leave notes at the bottom of the text. It may seem random, because it is, but I need those notes. They are good to me.]
Jim was the original night-owl.
Sleep in the day and live (though almost barely so) at night.
He worked the night shift.
Watching things on TV screens.
It wasn't glamorous but it paid the bills and it paid for the drinks.
On his days off he made the best he could of it.
He lived a make-believe life.
He wrote books about mysteries.
He didn't sell many books.
But when he was around people he liked to pretend that he did.
That was Jim.
He lived at night and he dreamed in the day...
O yes that was Jim.
He didn't speak to anybody.
He loved the quiet as well.
People and their speeches broke his soul.
He only had to talk to one person in the night...
That was his coworker Jon Ward - a man made of entirely different things.
Jim and Jon couldn't have been more different not even if God himself had intervened.
Jim hated Jon with a fierce passion.
Jim was a writer.
He liked to sit and think.
That was Jim.
Jon was a loud. Very Loud. Jim liked to call him, "A piece of human junk."
And every night was nightmare as the two men rattled and tattled with each other in the darkness.
Jim would have given up if it wasn't for his mind, because there was always fantasy to hide in.
And it was to fantasy that Jim always retreated!
AGAIN AND AGAIN.
Not only was it the safest place to be it was the best place as well:
Because in fantasy Jim was the master - "and everything else was just a dream!" That's what Jim would say about fantasy if anyone cared to ask him about it:
Fantasy is my muse.
Fantasy and dreams...
"And dreams are just vapour in the twinkle of a living human mind."
Life was just better when you were pretending to be the master of a dream.
And that was how he spent his days...
Walking around town wearing a trenchcoat, Jim liked to pretend he was some kind of private detective on a mission.
Yes. That's how it was with him.
Think fantasy and live it.
Jim thought it was better to imagine he was something else better than accepting what he really was:
Because what was he really?
Not a lot - if he admitted it - just these:
And idiot.
A nobody...
AND WORST OF ALL!
A drunk.
He often walked around the day with a bottle of whiskey at his side.
Being drunk was the only time the world made sense to him.
And it also motivated him, and he needed motivating for the days ahead.
Because Jim was on indeed on a real mission when he stood before the wide gaping mouth of the tunnel.
And this is what it:
He had inherit locker in the old backroom that had once belonged to his friend, Greg.
Greg had moved on with his life but Jim got his locker.
And in the locker Jim found a few odd things.
All useless and bad...
....And one thing that was almost good...
A few pages torn from a book about a ghost that haunted the abandoned train tunnel by the Old Town Subway station.
Greg had seen the ghost, apparently, and had written about ti, saying:
'It appeared to me as a giant shadow! I call it the Tunnel Man. He was at least eight feet tall. He could of been a drifter, dossing in the old tunnel. Not a pleasant place to live, but at least he would have a ceiling over his head in winter. But there was something odd about this fellow. He would disappear out of sigh, like magic. I have seen him walk through walls twice. That's why I don't think it is a tramp. It has to be something supernatural.'
Greg also wrote about an abandoned hostel at the end of the tunnel, a spooky old building messed up by graffiti, debris and the waste of passing dossers. He said that the front door was unlocked and he could get into the building, but after entering the wretched building he did not stay around for long.
He wrote: 'I entered that building alone, and the terror I felt once I was inside was overwhelming. A few feet in and I started to tremble like a fool. I felt like evil eyes were watching me. I knew I needed to get out of the building, and so I did. I ran!'
After reading Greg's story Jim felt he had to do something.
And so he found himself standing before the dreaded haunted tunnel.
He knew it was time to go into the place and see the truth for himself.
Was Greg a liar with qa great imagination...
Or was there really a ghost waiting to be found in the shadows...
This was Jim's mission: to find out the truth.
It was time to find out if anything was hiding in the old abandoned tunnel.
[I shall release the story in bits. Thank you for reading and best wishes!]
[This story for me is an experiment in spontaneous writing. I am just doodling about with this one, throwing down ideas and see where it will lead me and the characters. Scroll down to see the earlier parts of this story. Thank you.]
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