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Pain. That was the first thing which registered to Wail, waking up from his dazed stupor, an unknown determination coursing through his mind. The young author, looking no older than 25, opened his eyes before immediately closing them again. As he tilted his face upwards from its position on the floor, he slowly opened his eyes again in a squint, moving his head moving left and right to scan the bright atmosphere around him.
The faint scent of charred cedar wafted through his nostrils, and the recognition of the wooden beams in the room made him finally realize where he was.
The cabin. Although it could hardly be called that anymore, made obvious by the blazing fire that consumed half the building, which finally registered in Wail's mind. Like a light switch being flicked, his instincts immediately took over, mind screaming at him to escape. Despite his weakened state, he began to fight against the blisters in his arms and legs, kicking against the floor whilst simultaneously digging his nails into the wooden boards, his best attempt at escaping raging inferno around him. Having finally reached the door, he unwillingly branded his hand by propping himself up using the burning brass handle and opened it. Door swinging outwards, he collapsed into the thin layer of snow outside which had blanketed the ground the night before. Having separated himself from the blazing building, Wail pondered on what had happened leading up to this mess he found himself in. His eyes wandered around before setting his sights on a figure wiping down the end of a metallic object.
As the fog in his mind dissipated, he began to recall.
It was 5 weeks ago. He and 4 other friends were reminiscing on their time together in primary school when someone brought up the name Kupfer, one of their old friends who had moved away to a small town out in the sticks after the 4th year of school.
They managed to stay in touch throughout the year, but as with all long-distance relationships, the feeling wasn't the same as seeing him in person.
"Well why don’t we just go visit him?" somebody suggested. "It's been almost 13 years since I saw the shrimp, and I think its best if I remind him in person who's still taller all these years later!" Leave it to
Bradley, Wail thought. Still soft as ever despite hiding it.
"Yeah, besides Brad feeding his ego again, don't you also wanna see Kup, Wail?"
"Why point me out?"
"I mean it's still pretty sweet how all these years later you two are still trying to compete to become the world's fifth best writer. But don’t you just wanna see Kups again?"
Stacy had a point. Amongst the 6 of them, Wail had always been closest to Kupfer. He found him a bit odd at first during the first few weeks of school, going on about becoming the world's fifth best author instead of the first, and when asked only replied "Cause 5 is soooooo cool!"
Heh. Still made him laugh all these years later. But silly as it was, that his odd quirks quickly grew on Wail and the two were inseparable after that. Which made it even more painful when Kupfer had to leave.
It wasn't any special reason, just a typical new job opportunity for his parents, but maybe because there wasn't anything special, it stung a little more knowing something else could've been done for him to stay. It still hurt all these years later, albeit only a little now. It was thanks to that stinging departure, however, that Wail had discovered his passion for writing. That day was still vivid in his memories, but one moment really stood out to him…
"It’s... It's just so STUPID! Can't your dumb dad get a good job here in the city!" Wail yelled, the tears forming at the corners of his glistening eyes being overshadowed by the imaginary fumes coming out of his ears as he kicked a stone. The two of them had left the school 20 minutes prior and were taking their regular trek back to their houses.
"I’m sorry Wail. I really am..." Kupfer mouthed meekly, barely a whisper.
"No, it's, uugh it's not, it’s not you, it's not your dad. I'm.. I'm just angry! It's not fair! You're my best friend, why is this happening now!?" Wail exclaimed, his glistening eyes turning into sobbing ones.
"Well, we can still be friends, right?"
That sent a little shock into Wail's mind. He hadn't thought about it before, but maybe he could still talk to Kupfer after he left. Kupfer noticed the change in Wail's demeanour and offered a warm, albeit slightly eerie smile. It was another one of his quirks that made most people uneasy, not unlike a prey sensing a predator’s eyes on them, which also did not exclude Wail when they first met. Although now, he hardly noticed it at all, and would give others a piece of his mind whenever they pointed that or any of Kupfer’s strange behaviours out.
"...maybe that's why he seems so calm when he's the one leaving. Gah, I’m so stupid. Stupid, stupid silly me. I’m always the one crying." Those were the words Wail thought to himself. They were partly true, as Kupfer seldomly expressing anything besides that gentle, albeit odd smile on his face. Although Kupfer managed to falsify the other part of that thought before it could continue.
“You’re not dumb for being sad, Wail.” Even though he hadn’t said anything, Kupfer managed to read his mind. It felt like he always knew what others were thinking, and that made him stand out a bit ahead of which incurred some jealousy or unease. But to Wail, that was a comfort, like he felt understood. That comfort almost made him want to start sobbing again. But he stood strong this time.
"...thanks. you're always really nice to me."
"Well, you are my friend. I have to be. Oh, hey, you know what? How about I keep showing you what I write, so that way it's like I'm still here telling you my stories?"
"How are you gonna do that, I don’t know how to check my mail?"
"Ummm, the internet? Only fossils use the mail nowadays, Wail."
"OH yeahhhh, haha. Just me being silly again. HEY! What if I also write you my stories!"
"Youuuu don't write though. But you're probably thinking that you wanna start, right?"
" Yeah, yeah yeah! And then you know what?"
"What?"
With a sudden look of determination on his face, Wail posed, fists at his side and eyes closed smugly, before exclaiming
"IIII'm gonna become the world's 5th best author! That way you’ll definitely remember me!" When he opened his eyes again, however, he saw something unexpected. Kupfer had an almost shocked, confused looking facial expression, before quickly changing back to his normal smiling demeanour. It was the first time Wail had seen Kupfer like that, but thought nothing of it.
"Hah, silly Wail. Maybe that's why I chose you. You always were a bit more special."
Confused, Wail was going to ask what he meant before Kupfer continued
"Alright then, if you want to compete so badly, I'll accept. But don’t start wailing when you realize how much better I am."
"Heh, ok. Thanks Kups." He sniffed before rubbing his sleeve against his nose.
"Always. And remember, we're still friends, no matter where I go."
No more tears were shed, but instead, Wail, and more surprisingly Kupfer, were both smiling genuinely. And when his car drove out of view 3 days later turning the corner of the street, though it hurt, Wail kept that smile on, fighting through his emotions while watching his friend leave. And even all these years later, he remembered how it felt to smile that day...
"Yeah, you're right Stacy. I'll text him now. But he's literally in the middle of nowhere, are you sure you guys wanna go?"
"Oh nooooooo, I FORGOT you were the only one with a heart here, Wail. Not. What do you think, dumb dumb?" Luke said.
"Ok ok, captain sarcasm. Then everyone else is good with that?" to which 4 pairs of thumbs were raised upwards in response.
"Alright then, I'll try planning it with him."
-Sup kup
>Hey Wail
- So, me brad Stacy Luke and Andy were thinking
>that you wanna visit me? Also, you forgot a comma
-dude, your powers of mind reading never get any less creepy, but yes xD
> Maybe you're just too predictable, especially mentioning all 5 of you guys at once :shrug:. So... the five of you all wanna come?
-yeah yeah, you and the number 5. You know it’s even creepier when you compare it those conspiracies. But yeah, we do
>Hey hey heyyyyy, FIVE is my thing. Those guys are all a bunch of copycats taking my favourite number
-and I forgot you claimed all the rights to 5 back in primary
>Hah. Silly Wail. OK, sounds like a plan. It's been like what, 13 years since we last met in person and you handed in your application to be 6th place to me at writing forever?
-HEY. I've gotten better, you know that. And it's also no fair, you did have a head start on me since you started younger, Mr. 6th-er
>Hehe, fair enough. And I know you’re a good writer, just kidding around again: p. Alright then, how about I see you all in five weeks :). I’ve got a vacation coming up anyway, so we'll meet at my cabin in the woods. It’ s about 1 hour from where I live but closer to you guys than the town I’m in. The address is 5 Pendleton close.
-kk, sounds like a plan. I can’t wait!
>Cya then
-bye
"So, it’s on?" Andy asked
"Yeah, he's cool with it. He said it's at his cabin, 5 Pendleton close."
"Dude, sometimes I think Kupfer and 5 are better friends than you and him, Wail."
"Haha Brad", Wail uttered with a flat tone. "Anyways, you better all be ready, he said it's in 5 weeks from now."
"I can hear him smooching his number shaped 5 pillow from his little apartment in the sticks right now."
"Get original Brad. But alright Wail, sounds exciting. I'll be ready. We all will, right?" Stacy questioned, though it sounded more like a statement.
A unison of yups could be heard, and so the group continued on in their day, with the plan of reuniting with their old friend now also in their minds.
---
5 weeks later on a Friday afternoon, the same group of friends pulled into the dirt road leading to a cabin. The trek had been mostly uneventful, aside from Bradley and Andy setting the world record for the most whinging about long trips. However, there was one interesting topic that was brought up on the way there, an urban legend known as-
"The copper mask, Brad. I'm telling you, it's something that locals in the area have been talking about for years, and it's sparked some controversy lately. I'd be surprised you hadn't heard of it, but you also live under a rock, so I just feel bad for you instead." The teacher’s aura emanating from Stacy made the last part of her statement sound like a fact read from a book.
"Yeah, well aside from me having a healthy screentime routine, I also grew up and stopped believing in ghost stories about, what,10 years ago? Local will make up whatever garbage brings their rundown motel some attention."
"Yeah, sorry Stacy, but I'm agreeing with Brad on this unfortunately." Wail spoke up.
Brad’s face turned slightly sour hearing Wail’s snide comment, but Wail continued "I asked Kupfer about it a while ago and he said the same thing. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bought a cabin in the area."
"Umm, you guys, groups of hikers disappearing isn't something to look over." Luke said meekly. Andy sat slightly up from his seat before retorting
"Neither are wolves or harsh winters that campers die in all the time, and yet nobody talks about that."
"But they keep talking about those copper masks that show up anytime someone disappears. Shouldn't that sound any alarms?"
"That’s only happened 3 times. Like Kupfer told me, probably just the locals trying to stir attention in their stick in the woods."
Andy seized the opportunity, adding "And think about it. There have been at least 4 times as many disappearances as masks."
"Fine. I’m convinced, but only so you'll stop saying I’m wrong." Her huffed expression accompanied by rolled eyes accentuated Stacy’s now grouchy mood, but the following conversations soon brought her back to her back to normal.
It was around 2 hours after that discussion when the group pulled off a gravel road and into a dirt driveway leading up to the cabin. The surrounding cedar trees, as well as periwinkles, ice plants, bugleweeds, and creeping wintergreens growing around the cabin all made it stand in a greenery contrasting that of the forests, with obvious signs of being hand planted.
After parking the silver van, which was marked with rust and scratches, the group exited the car and walked up to the main entrance. They thought nothing of parking on the grass, since a red 4-wheeler pickup in a much more favourable looking condition than the van was also parked there. Walking up to the doorbell, Wail was about to ring it before remembering something. He hesitated to bring his finger to the buzzer, instead moving it away and forming a fist before rapping it against the door in a pattern which the rest of the group recognised.
Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Tap. 5 knocks in that specific pattern; pausing after each of the first two knocks, followed by two rapid knocks, and pausing again before one final knock. It was something that Luke came up with, almost like a memento for remembering their friend before he went away. Now it acted like a code, so much so that when any of them heard it, nobody bothered checking who was on the other side before opening it.
And just as expected, the door opened without any blinds being peeked open or voices asking who's on the other side.
"Hey guys. Hey Wail. It's been a while, huh?" He spoke almost too casually, like they had just seen each other yesterday. The group collectively had a half-stunned look to them. He had that same smile on him that he held all those years ago, but his face looked as if it had barely aged since they had last seen him.
"Well, are you gonna sleep standing up all night long, or do you want to, you know, be civilised and walk in and do all that junk that people do."
Suddenly, the group seemed to animate back to life, all chiming in with their own half jested comebacks
"You never change, do you shrimp?"
"Always looking like you already know what’s going to happen, eh?"
"Still got that creepy smile going on, do you?"
"Hehe, I missed you guys too." Kupfer said looking at the rest of the group, before locking onto Wail's still stunned but slightly confused face. "And yes Wail, before you ask, it is me."
He snapped out of his frozen stupor but was still slightly aghast. His friend, even 13 years later, seemed to have only changed slightly in appearance. No facial hair, slight facial changes, yet paired with an abnormally taller body. He was happy to see him, but a small part of Wail's gut felt off. The sensation, however, was covered up when Kupfer managed to seemingly read his mind again regarding his appearance. It felt comforting to be understood again after 13 years.
---
After they all gave quick hugs to each other, with his still awkward way of hugging people, the group walked further into the cabin. It was a quaint, rustic interior that complimented the oak log exterior. An open doorframe could be seen to the right of the entrance which led into a kitchen, contrasted by an open living room area to the other side of the door. Two young cedar trees planted in pots adorned both sides of the lounge. Further down from the main entrance was a hallway with sets of rooms on both sides, with a final door facing at the end which faced the entrance.
After the pleasantries were over, the group split off, each of them finding a room to drop off their belongings and freshen up. Wail was no different, packing his clothing into the tiny closet in his room and sitting down on his bed. He began to ponder on Kupfer’s introduction though, feeling a little upset that his friend wasn't a little more excited over seeing him again. That came to a halt when he heard 5 raps at his door, even though it was open. "Knock knock". He stood up quickly, recognizing the voice.
"Hey Kupfer, what’s up?"
"I’ve told the rest already, but we're gonna startup dinner soon. You’ve already seen where the kitchen is."
"Oh, gotcha. I'll get ready..."
"Alright, see you in a bit. And why the sad mood, you know I can tell when somethings bothering you?"
He felt a little bit more elated hearing his friends apparent concern for him, but that feeling in his gut grew slightly larger than before the longer he looked at Kupfer's face. "Nah, it's nothing man, just the shock and all from seeing you again after a long drive."
Kupfer's face, though still plastered with his iconic smile, seemed slightly unconvinced. However, instead of questioning further, he gave a quick nod before heading off to the kitchen.
Wail pondered on the feeling in his stomach, feeling upset at himself for harbouring any negative sentiment to his friend. But he couldn't shake the feeling that, for whatever reason, Kupfer looked ever so slightly different than when he saw him at the entrance. It almost looked like his skin had wrinkled a little, as it would with the use of facial expressions over time, but he could swear in his mind that it wasn’t the same as at the entrance.
A whisper, barely louder than the humming of a quiet fan whirring could be heard in the room. "What am I even thinking. I'm meeting him for the first time in years, obviously he’d look a little different. I should just, drop it."
---
In the kitchen, a group of 6 people sat around a circular, grainy wooden table, the colour of which was mid-brown with lighter brown striations streaking across it. Casual conversations could be heard over the sound of a pot emitting steam on the stove.
"So, Wail, tell me, how's that author life going for you. Still trying to beat me?"
He felt a bit happier hearing writing being mentioned.
"You mean still am beating you, 6th place."
"Hardy har har, I don’t think you could beat a pillow with a bat if I gave one to you."
It was a light jest by both sides, something no one else in the group was concerned by. Stacy’s face, however, expressed a concern over something else, which Kupfer could discern.
What’s on your mind Stace?”
"Hey Kupfer, you know that local legend about the copper mask guy, right? It's been all over the internet recently"
Andy piped in, "Not a guy Stacy, just kids playing pranks or the local townsfolk attracting attention, like we told you. And 3 masks are less than the 12 that are missing, might I remind you"
Though her question was answered, Kupfer still interjected, sounding a bit excited to talk about the topic
"Nah, it's fine Andy. But yeah, don't think too much about it. Although going off the shape of the masks left behind, I'd say they're actually maskes."
Luke feigned an annoyed look with a hint irritation in his voice "What's even the difference? Same thing, right?"
"No, and I really wish people knew the difference. A mask is something any plain robber or burglar or person uses to cover their face. A maske is something, at least to me, used in a more poetic way, like in plays or dramas."
"Kupfer, copyrighter of the number 5 and of facial coverings, my fellow peasants". A witty, but obviously sarcastic comment by Bradley. However, it seemed to sink Kupfer's smile ever so slightly. Only Wail noticed, but before he could ask, Kupfer replied "Haha yeah. Sorry, maybe I've gotten a bit too into writing. It's basically my language now, my underling", the last part enunciated in a smug but joking tone. The barely noticeable change in atmosphere vanished as suddenly as it appeared
Seeing an opportunity to change the subject, Wail pointed a thumb at the object hanging from the wall. "So, looks like you've taken up hobbies aside from writing, cowboy." The group simultaneously turned their attention to the revolver plaqued on the wall. Though instead of his usual prepared response, Kupfer appeared confused moreso than anything, seeming to not understand Wail's comment.
"Ummmm, you know, gun, pewpew, hunting?"
"Ohhh right, sorry my bad. Yeah, that one is a real beauty. She's a five chamber Taurus Raging Bull .454 Casull, a fun one to use. I’d offer, but it’s mainly used for decoration now.”
"Well, at least you've found a hobby not related to telling me I'll never be 5th place" Kupfer's smiling face froze for a little bit though, his eyes contemplating Wail's words for a bit longer than he normally did before letting out a mumbled "Huh?"
"He meaannnns that guns and paper aren't exactly related, shrimp. You might finally have something going on for you that doesn't come from a tree. Although, you and the number 5 have oughta get a chamber for yourselves.”
"Ah, gotcha. Just the 5th place thing was a bit confusing instead of mentioning the writing context, is all.” He was back to his usual composed self, at least from the perspective of everyone aside from Wail. Wail however, more than anybody else, could pickup on his friend's slight but noticeable shift in emotion, and couldn't help but sense a lie, albeit small, coming out of Kupfer's mouth. He gave a suspicious look, before everyone aside from Kupfer jumped a little hearing the ringing of ta timer, indicating food was ready.
---
After wrapping up dinner, Kupfer insisted on bringing Andy with him to pick up a big surprise. Nobody raised any questions, aside from Andy who didn't want to be picked for brute duty, but he reluctantly agreed since he also knew he was the strongest of all of them. The sound of an engine starting up and wheels gripping the dirt driveway could be heard before the two drove off onto the gravel road.
"Sooooooo, what's Kupfer's deal, huh? Guy doesn't see us in 13 years and still keeps a face as calm as a plant."
"Yeah Brad, I’m glad you mentioned it because was gonna say the same thing. It felt so off. I know he was a bit odd during primary, but I thought he'd be a bit more excited to see us. Especially you, Wail."
Wail wanted to interject for his friend like he'd done in the past, but a part of him felt a little relieved hearing the last part of that sentence. He always knew that his friend had his own little quirks, but deep down, he longed for that twinge of empathy that emanated from him all those years ago. For that genuine smile before he left. He thought Kupfer knew what was on his mind. Couldn't his friend see through him again, like he always had?
"I... I, yeah... Yeah. It is a bit strange."
The room quickly muted, so much so that the ever so slight creaking of the cabins old joints could be heard. Everybody stood still hearing that remark. It was an unspoken law, something everyone took for granted, that Wail wouldn't even think about doubting his friend, let alone calling him strange. Even during the first few weeks of school, Wail was the only one who tolerated Kupfer's unconventional presence, not mentioning anything about it to him.
"So, everyone's on the same page then? I mean, even Wail said something." Stacy motioned her hand, gesturing towards Wail. "We only knew each other as kids, but those two at least kept in contact more than the rest of us did with him."
Wail took this opportunity to voice his previous concerns "Did... did anybody else feel like Kupfer looked a bit weird as well during dinner?"
"Weird as in?"
"Well, I'm not too sure, but he looked a bit different than when he greeted us at the door. Though maybe I'm just tired from the traveling."
"Yeah, you probably are. I didn't notice anything, but it still doesn't change how weird he was acting. Like, that was weeeeird, even for Kups. He acted like he didn’t know metal and paper come from two different places."
"Who knows guys, maybe he's just adjusting to us after all this time as well. We should ask Andy about how he was in the car when they get back. But right now, I'm gonna look through rich boys cabin. Who rents an apartment but buys a whole cabin in the woods to themselves?"
"Ummm, probably Kupfer."
"Definitely Kupfer."
The group walked out of the kitchen, and into the living room area. A quick glance revealed a glass coffee table surrounded by a set of wicker chairs and a lounge. Hanging on the wall above the lounge was something familiar.
"Hey Stacy, look! There's that "maske" you were so interested in earlier."
"Oh, so that's why he got all political earlier about that point. Looking at it now though, he was right. The ones found around the forest looked similar to that."
Bradley had an amused expression looking at the wall
"Leave it to him to hang something like that up."
The group quickly shuffled away from the living room and were ready to explore the rest of the cabin, when a thought occurred to Bradley.
"Hey Wail, wanna have a go with that gun?"
"Dude, no. Kupfer seemed pretty miffed about letting people touch it."
"Yeah, well I’m feeling a little miffed over not getting a warmer welcome, so yada yada two negatives make a positive."
Taking long strides over to the kitchen, Brad pondered for a second before reaching to grab the revolver. Wail was about to raise a dispute but quickly changed his mind seeing Brad's raised eyebrow.
"It's. A replica. The bloody things not even real, just super realistic. Ugh, no wonder the guy looked confused at dinner, as if I should've believed all that stuff about him picking up a new hobby!"
"He sounded really enthusiastic about it though?"
"Yeah, Stacy. He knows how to sound about everything. He probably just learnt about it to include it in one of his novels."
Fighting through his feelings of suspicion, Wail almost instinctively began to rebuke Brad, hearing his friend in a negative light
"Hey! Just cut him some slack man. Maybe that's why he's acting so off, he just doesn't want us to think he only loves writing. He's still Kupfer though, we oughta just tell him tha-!"
"You know, while we're being honest and opening up, how about I let you know what I’m thinking?”
“Wha-” but Luke cut him off before he could say anything else
“I think you defend him too much. A lie is still a lie, and why would he lie about something so stupid like that? And the guy claims to be your best friend dude, but he hasn't visited once you since he left? He obviously has the money to do so judging from the cabin we're standing in right now, so why. Hasn't. He?"
Wail couldn't retort. He knew Luke was right, voicing the complaint that he had been building up for years. Though they had been friendly and kept in contact, messages between Wail and Kupfer had always felt one sided. Not that they were drifting away, but sometimes Kupfer felt ungenuine in Wail's mind. Not that he spoke a lie, but that he never spoke the entire truth. He brushed it off as the effects of not being able to speak in person, but tonight's events had him reconsidering a few things. Kupfer always knew what was going on with Wail, but now Wail pondered why after 13 years he still didn’t know as much about his friend as the day he left. His chest tightened a little thinking about the decent chance that his friend didn’t trust him enough to fully tell him the truth about a lot of things, now that he recalled. How even after all that time, Kupfer had only really shared 3 chapters while Wail shared everything with him.
"I'm gonna go look through the guy’s room. Speaking is one thing, but the eyes don't lie. Maybe we'll find something out about your "best friend". Something that doesn't come from his mouth or your text messages."
Brad’s emphasis on "best friend" had gagged Wail's throat. It felt like an arrow that was aimed at his heart for hit it’s mark. Only instinctively staying with the group now, Wail walked behind the rest of them down the hallway. His mind now threw thought after thought at him, planting seeds of doubt as to whether or not Kupfer had considered him a friend. What if he was just one of the few people who entertained him since he also liked writing? Maybe that was why he called him "special" all those years ago, why he “chose him". Stupid. It felt obvious in retrospect, he was just someone who shared a similar interest in writing, while any other personal aspects about his life were kept at a distance. After all, he hadn't even told him about this cabin before 5 weeks ago, let alone his newfound "hobby", even if it would be as a passing jest. He was just, like a stranger. Someone Kupfer understood and gave the answers that he wanted to hear. And even though they had promised to do so all those years ago, he remembered again that Kupfer had only ever sent 3 chapters of his novel, whilst mainly giving Wail tips and advice on how to improve his writing instead. He dragged the thought weighing down his mind lazily through the now narrow hallway, his chest squeezed by the truth his mind offered him. Right before Brad reached down for the handle at the end of the hall, one last thought raced through Wail's mind. "I, don't know my friend..."
---
Swinging the door into the room, holding it right before it hit the stopper, Brad entered first. The others shuffled into the room behind him, and soon, 4 pairs of eyes were all scanning the room in unison.
It was a standard looking 3x3 square metre room. A twin sized bed with a single pillow and plain white sheets occupied the rightmost corner. The wooden, double door wardrobe sat against the same wall as the doorframe on the left side. And finally, a simple looking wooden desk supported by 4 metal legs sat across from the wardrobe, sitting underneath the only window through which moonlight shone through. Outside, the first flakes of snow falling could also be seen. No more, no less. It was an average looking room, aside from one outlier: The journal.
The first to notice it was Wail. An authors unfinished work was more precious than gold to a dragon. With Kupfer however, a dragon would seem generous.
"Only 3 chapters in 13 years" he thought to himself. The brown leather exterior surrounding the yellow pages were locked only behind a button clasp. And if it wasn't tempting enough, the patina of the leather confirmed that the journal had been around for a while--Kupfer's personal creative space. There was no doubt about it. Hand hovering above, Wail hesitated for a moment before producing a singular clicking sound, indicating the seal of the button clasp had been broken. Turning the cover over, he began to read.
---
Chapter 1: Inspiration
Drawn above the first lines of text was an image of a thin, stick like appendage with three equally long and sharp looking claws branching from the end of it. The claws were thinner than the appendage they came out of, but seemed to compete in length to it
-First character: Monica. An avid hiker, with dirty blonde hair complimented by hazel eyes. She seemed to enjoy crafting gimmicky things out of nature, but had an odd fear of tree silhouettes, specifically during sunrise.
Second character: Johan. A tall and thin man who-
"So, what's in the book?" Luke interrupted
"I think. I think this is where Kupfer writes down his draft ideas for characters. The names are different, but I recognise some of the characters features. This one for example. It was so weird to read his first chapter, imagining a character afraid of seeing trees at sunrise. Although her name in the story was Lissandra, not Monica. There are also only 5 characters listed before it goes to the next chapter."
“Yeah yeah, five. Tell me if you learn something new about him”.
Chapter 2: Obsession
The image had changed. Instead of the clawed appendage, a detailed drawing of a wooden baseball bat appeared, wrapped with an assumedly white tape at the base, presumably for a better grip
Like the previous chapter, 5 more characters were scrawled down, but with a few more details. Likes, dislikes, and food preference were now listed as well.
Chapter 3: Perfection
The image had changed again. A sketch of a curved, slender dagger whose wooden handle was inscribed with wave-like carvings was detailed on the page.
5 new characters, with even more details ascribed to them than the previous chapters were jotted down. Patterns of walking, how many times they blinked a minute, the way they breathed. Details Wail understood but never thought of writing in his drafts for a character so specifically, though Kupfer seemed to even note every single motion of how their arms would move while running. These characters all seemed familiar to Wail as well, with only their names appearing different. Flipping through the pages with rapt attention, Wail looked for chapter 4. Meanwhile, Bradley, bored of watching Wail read, decided to investigate a little more.
Brad began walking towards the bed when he caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. The moonlight shining through the window seeped through the crack between the doors of the wardrobe, and a faint shine reflected back. Curiosity rising, he turned around and walked to the double doors. Grabbing the wooden knob attached to one of the doors with three fingers, he opened the wardrobe. Inside was a metallic object covered by a cloth. He opened the other door and reached further inside to inspect.
At the same time, Wail had flipped to the next chapter. He had given the pages of the book a quick flip through before proceeding to read, but it seemed as if there were only 4 chapters so far. A sense of relief flooded his thoughts
“So out of 4, he’s actually shared 3 chapters with me?” He gave a puzzled look. “Maybe I was just overthinking earlier. He is pretty meticulous with his work after all.” His mouth formed a small smile, pushing some of his previous thoughts about his friend’s integrity out of his mind.
Chapter 4: Beginnings
The illustration of a gun could be seen. It was the most detailed out of the others. Wail also recognized it, it was the same gun that Kupfer had mounted on the wall, or at least the same as the replica, and it was also coloured. The barrel, the same colour as graphite, was long, extending outwards about two thirds of the weapon’s total length. A simple front sight to help with aiming sat on top of the muzzle. The hammer, trigger, and 5 rounded chamber were coloured the same as the barrel, and the part that you would hold was covered with what Wail presumed to be a black rubber grip. There was also a small note underneath the drawing, but something else caught Wail’s attention first. The list of 5 characters was unusually long compared to the previous chapters, but the length wasn’t what caught him off-guard. Instead, something else captured his attention: his name.
First character: Wail. A timid, but sometimes unpredictable fellow writer. The first out of a group to defend others, and the only person to surprise me. Tends to overthink, but can prove to be unexpected at crucial moments…
A long list of other things detailing Wail’s actions, habits, desires, and many other things were written down on the page, all of which Wail found to be true about himself, even ones he may not have realized. Turning to the other pages, characters detailing Andy, Luke, Bradley and Stacey could also be found, but their descriptions were all slightly shorter than Wail’s. A mixture of happiness and guilt could be felt, his thoughts about his friend changing once more.
“He’s using…me? Me? As inspiration for his story?”. The young author was feeling elated that his friend appeared to care enough about him that he’d act as inspiration for his story. He felt guilty now, however. His doubts about his friend feeling mostly unfounded now, and on top of that, he had peered through his personal belongings, maybe even the most precious one. How could he confront him now? Even if there was some dishonesty on Kupfer’s end, Wail felt sick thinking he could’ve doubted him. He was the only one who knew how Kupfer could act sometimes, so why’d he listen to his doubts this time? Feeling disappointed in himself, he began closing the book, unable to look through it anymore. But before that, he took one last look at the illustration in the fourth chapter, more specifically the note underneath.
“This one feels right.”
“Umm, guys… GUYS! I found something weird in in his closet.” Turning towards the rest of the group with an object in hand, all eyes fell on Bradley at once. Moonlight glowing on his chest, he raised the object up to the moonlight so the rest could see it more clearly.
“What is that, some weird piece of metal?”
“Luke, that’s the thing from the living room. But why have it in hi-… that’s the thing. It’s that same copper mask that we saw online. It is copper right Brad?”
Bradley didn’t seem to have heard Stacy though, as instead he was staring out the window, trying to make out something through the light. His face grew uneasy before he spouted out “Guys, do you see what I-”
Ksssssshk. The sound of glass shattering accompanied the shards of the broken window that flew towards them. A few yelps, with one louder scream, could be heard. Everybody in the room seemed to collectively shut their eyes and raise their arms up in a response to protect themselves but quickly opened them again to locate the source of the cause. The bottom pane of the window had been shattered, leaving straggling shards that gripped the frame. Looking down, randomly sized pieces of glass decorated the floor in an unspecified pattern. Something else, however, quickly tensed the atmosphere in the room.
“Bradley, are you alright? Bradley? Bradley!” Stacy was the first to notice, her breathing quickly turning short, quick and shallow. Her eyes filled with panic, she ran over to Bradley who was laying on the floor. The rest of the group quickly followed suit, all of them filling with dread soon after. His shirt was stained with blood, and a small sized hole located slightly left to the centre of his chest could be seen. Stacy and Luke were in a shock, trying to cover up the bleeding, while Wail was kneeling next to Brad’s head.
“Wail! Wail! Keep him awake! Luke we need to. We need to call the ambulance! Please Luke, please! Bradley you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re strong!” The tears gushing out of Stacy’s eyes almost drowned out her shrieks, her trembling hands moving around aimlessly in attempt to miraculously help him.
“Stacy! You need to keep pressure on it, stop moving your hands!” Luke shouted, his voice sounding broken, but still holding back tears.
Wail, on the other hand, wasn’t crying. He wasn’t screaming. His breathing was laboured, but long. Eyes unable to focus on anything, he tried to look down at his friend laying on the blood-stained floor. Hazily, he could see Bradley weakly trying to raise his arms, grabbing around at the floor in a desperate attempt to hold on for life. His eyes staring up at the ceiling, unable to comprehend anything else happening around him. His breathing coming out in short chokes for the oxygen which slowly failed to enter his circulation, and his hoarse sounding voice trying to let out weak attempts for help. Noticing his movements gradually slowing down, Wail, with the same expression on his face, managed to waddle over on his knees to Brad’s side. He reached down to his searching hand and grabbed it.
“Wail, what are you doing! I said to keep talking to hi-”
“Stacy. Stacy!” She looked towards Luke, a mixture of anger and horror painted on her face. Luke said nothing else, simply gesturing his head towards Brad’s face. She looked where he was indicating and saw it too. “…He’s gone.”
One
We we have to go. We need to get to the car. Wail. Wail! You have the keys, right!?” Luke kept his tears held back, but his voice gave away his grief. He wanted to scream out, but he knew he had to keep everyone moving fast.
“Yeah. yeah. I do.”
“Then get up.”
“But brad-”
Luke spared no time trying to argue with Stacy, instead grabbing her by the arm and dragging her along to the door with Wail trailing behind. They ran through the hallway which now seemed to stretch on forever. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the front door. Wail reached for the latch, but Luke grabbed his hand.
“Wait. I’m gonna look first to make sure they’re not there.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter. Think Wail, think. Keep your mind straight. We need to get out of here.”
“Ok. Ok. Ok.”
Having done his best to take control of the situation, Luke tugged back at the curtain which draped the window and cautiously took a quick glance.
“Ok, cars still there. Our best bet is to rush there at the same time.”
He told the other two that plan with shaky confidence. They nodded back in agreement.
In truth however, Luke knew the risks involved. There was a high probability that one or even two of them may fall victim to the gun. It was the only plan that made sense in Luke’s racing mind though. Though he tried showing a calm demeanour, he was just as scared as the two of them. It had to be him though: Stacy was too afraid to think for herself, and Wail could only look forward in shock. Turning the latch to unlock it, the three opened the door together, one hand each against it while the rest of their bodies were hidden behind the wall. Peeking outside, nothing seemed to stand out at first, and so they prepared.
“On three. One. Two. THREE!” They burst outside with a jolt of energy. Running without any form in mind, the trio all slammed against the side of the car. Miraculously, no loud cracks in the air were heard or unknown silhouettes were seen. Fumbling through his pocket to grab the keys, Wail took them out and hastily stabbed them against the handle of the door to unlock it. After a few failed attempts, the sound of the key’s teeth inserting into the lock quelled the adrenaline running through him, if only a little. Just as he was about to unlock the door, a loud slam from inside the car scared the trio off the van. Quickly recovering, the group scurried to look at what could cause it, but the night sky paired with the windows tint obscured their vision until they were pressing their faces against the glass. Peering inside, all their eyes turned wide as they flinched away seeing what was inside: Andy, hands and feet tied, with his mouth gagged. It made no sense, Kupfer’s red truck still hadn’t returned, and Kupfer was also nowhere in sight. The group could also make out some shards of glass around him, and looking above him could see the moon roof had been broken. At the same time, the smell of gasoline had permeated their nostrils. Looking around, Luke could also see a half ring of wooden branches, twigs and logs enclosed around the car and the cabin. His heart dropped, spotting a bipedal figure with unusually long arms paired with a lanky, malnourished looking body and disfigured head. Seeing them throw a burning match to the ground while raising an object pointed at the group, he quickly yelled at his friends to-
“Get away from the car, NOW!’’
They did as instructed, jumping a few feet back, while simultaneously, the match hitting the ground ignited a half ring of fire around them, forcing them to move closer towards the cabin. All spotting the figure now, they ran towards the entrance to take shelter away from the offender’s assumed attack, but they stood confused when the figure continued pointing its arm toward the car. The sound of a gunshot cracked through the air, but none of them had been the target of the attack. Instead, the bullet had been fired at the side of the car; more accurately, near the gasoline tank. A small stream of petrol spilled out, and the surrounding fire connected. In an instant, the vehicle went up in flames. They all watched in horror as their friend’s presumable cries were muffled by the gag. Unable to run away from the sight, the ring of fire forced them to watch helplessly and as they rushed back into the cabin, the car continuing to burn.
Two
Both Stacy and Luke were now faltering to their emotions. Luke’s attempt at staying strong had failed him, knowing his friend had been burned alive and suffered even before that.
“WHY!?... why…?”. His previous facade now replaced by his whining wails, Luke could only hold his head between his hands to try and drown out the roaring blaze’s crackles. “WHO’S DOING THIS?”. Ripping back the curtains, Luke banged his hands against the glass in a blind rage, watching the rest of the car slowly burn while fire began creeping up the walls of the cabin. The perpetrator, looking more like a beast now in the light of the fire, appeared to give an unnaturally long, pleased grin. “WHO AR-”
Wail reached out to grab him. “Luke, get away from the window!” but before he could grip his shoulder, a banging sound pierced through the glass.
Three
His pounding abruptly coming to a halt, Luke fell to the ground. Wail threw his hands over his shut eyes to cover his disgruntled face, and turned away. He couldn’t bear to face a third truth tonight, a third tragedy. No longer shocked, still grieving, but with anger now rising within him, Wail looked to Stacy with an unbridled determination. Stacy’s cries quickly quieted down, giving an almost confused and fearful look seeing the resolution on Wail’s face. He spoke in an eerily calm fashion, not a sign of fear in his unnaturally still body.
“Stacy.”
“Y-yes?”
“I’m going to lure them in. I’m going to kill them. We’re going to live.”
“Wail, they have a gun. You can’t be stupid. And who knows, who, no WHAT that thing is. It didn’t even look huma-”
“There’s no other option I’m seeing right now. We’re surrounded by fire, and even if we manage to get past that, it has range on us. It looks like it can run faster than us. And it looks stronger than us. I might not be thinking straight, but if there’s something else you can come up with, let me know, please.”
“I… I can’t think of anything else. Wail, what are you going to do?”
“It wants to finish us off with that gun. And it wants someone to watch. Otherwise, Andy would have been dead before we found him. The sick thing wants an audience, and we’re going to use that against it. It’s bigger, but it can be hurt. I managed to see something red on their head when we were running back inside, so I think Andy put up a fight and made it bleed. Grab a knife and a pot from the kitchen. Leave the door unlocked. We’ll hide in a bedroom.”
“What are you gonna-”
“There’s no time. I’ll show you”. And with that, the two ran into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door behind them.
---
Wail stood in front of the bedroom door, pushing one ear against it to listen for his cue to act. It was a primitive trap, something to quickly catch a creature off guard and take the opportunity to ambush it. Every other room’s lights including their own were switched off, while the bedroom opposite to theirs was on. The lit room’s door was slightly ajar, with the pot grabbed earlier balance on top of it. It was a spur of the moment decision, but the only thing he could think of in such a short period of time. Hand gripping the handle, he waited. Through the growing sound of the approaching fire, he heard it. Thud. Thud. Thud. Heavy footsteps slammed across the creaking boards. Growing louder with each one, Wail’s heart matched the approaching noise. Coming right outside the door, the creature stopped. The world seemed to pause, with rushing blood through his ears being the only thing Wail heard. And then, it happened.
The clattering sound of a pot hitting the ground. Wail swung the door open ready to stab the creature from behind, but to his horror, it wasn’t facing away from him but instead looked down on him with a mischievous smile. The plan failed. It knew. Making a split-second decision, he decided to rush the creature anyway. As if expecting the response, it sidestepped to dodge his attack. He pivoted on his foot before turning to shank the knife its chest, but it raised a hand in defence. Blade piercing through its fingers, it gripped the knife from him and pulled away.
“Stacy run out of the ro-!” but his sentence was cut short when he saw a smile on the monster’s face. A genuine smile. A look of realization shot across his mind, to which the monster seemed to have noticed. It seemed pleased with itself, grinning even wider than it already had. Facing Wail, it threw the knife away and tauntingly displayed its hand in front of him. Slowly, the hand began morphing, elongating into a thin appendage of which 3 slender long projection shot out of. Recognition hit Wail: the drawing from the book. The creature seeming to have noticed this gave an even longer smile, baring a row of sharp teeth before turning its head towards the bedroom.
“NO, STAC-” was all he was able to get out as he ran towards it before the creature effortlessly threw him across the cabin, his body slamming headfirst into the coffee table. Wail was only able to recognize the distant scream of Stacy in his mind before a singular bang silenced her. Overcome by the realization of what had happened and the force of the previous impact, his mind faded as he blacked out.
Four
Waking up in the roaring inferno, a dazed and confused Wail managed to drag himself out of the cabin and onto the thin blanket of snow outside. His horrified eyes stared at the burning cabin which had now almost entirely been consumed by the fire. Having recalled the terrors that led up to this situation, he wondered how he hadn’t been consumed as well. And that’s when he saw it; a figure repetitively wiping down the end of a metallic object with what looked to be a cleaning cloth. One, two, three, four, five. After the fifth time, the figure turned its attention towards Wail and began walking towards him. A sense of abject terror overtook Wail as he set his eyes upon them.
“Oh, so you made it through the path I cleared for you?”
“Ku… Kupfer?”
“Yes Wail, it’s me.”
“What? What do you MEAN, yes Wail? Let’s get out of here, the whole place is bur-”
“I know you’re not this stupid, Wail. You’re not stupid at all. As emotional as you can get, you were also the first one to notice it.” His eyes looked a bit downcast before continuing, voice disappointed “The ONLY one to notice it.”
“To notice wha-” but before he could finish, Kupfer raised his hands in a shrugging manner, one holding an object and the other beginning to shift in front of Wail’s eyes while giving a mocking look that said “really, come on now”. Kupfer’s hand had transfigured into that similar shape Wail found in the book. Wail’s eyes filled with shock, realization setting in.
“What?” he said in a wheezed breath. “What, ARE you?”
“Hah. Silly Wail. It’s me, Kupfer. Your best friend?” he said jokingly, before his face began to disfigure, rapidly changing between appearances of slightly aged, scarred, and other ones while Kupfer said “Or were you expecting to see this? How about this? Ooh, what about THIS ONE!”
“STOP! JUST STOP IT, PLEASE! YOU’RE NOT KUPFER!”
“ahem. IIII'm gonna become the world's 5th best author! That way you’ll definitely remember me!” He said in a tone replicating Wail’s voice as a child. “Wail’s voice quickly died down, letting Kupfer continue to speak. Shifting his face back to the one Wail saw when he first greeted him, Kupfer continued.
“It’s funny, really. People tend to not notice the slight changes within yourself as long as you manage to please them, to keep them content. But you. You noticed the second you saw me again. You were the only one who understood if I acted differently. You always were different than everybody. Special. It’s why I chose you.” Those words, spoken without a hint of doubt behind them, reminded Wail of that day he left, of the strange statement Kupfer made all those years ago.
“And I know you understand what I’ve been doing all these years as well now.” Kupfer looked to Wail for a few seconds, studying his unconfused but searching facial expression. He continued, stretching his hands to his sides and raising them to the level of his head, motioning towards the cabin. “Wail, this is my stage. This is my inspiration. This is my perfection! All those years, searching for the best source material when I should’ve known, the end is always the most tragic, and yet the most beautiful!”. Kupfer was never known to raise his voice, let alone laugh loudly. Yet for the first time in 13 years of speaking to him, Wail had seen Kupfer genuinely excited, speaking to him with a genuine laugh behind his voice. Feelings of betrayal, feelings of self-hatred, feelings of depression all hit Wail at once. Yet despite any questions he may have had, there was one that he asked, not knowing why he did.
“Then… why? Why kill us, kill your friends, with a gun? You’re obviously stronger, you’re faster, you could have slit our throats and done away with us. Why?” And like all those years ago, Wail had once again caught Kupfer in a confused stupor, face frozen, his mind longing for the reasoning behind Wail’s question.
“Aha. Ahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!” His laughing continued until he paused to catch his breath, before regaining his composure. “All of… THIS! ALL OF IT!” He gestured to the fire, the cabin, to the remnants of the car. “And THAT’S the question you chose? You really are something special. Everybody else, every single one I’ve come across, could be read so easily. Fiction, non-fiction, people, they’re all the same. It’s why I became so interested in writing in the first place; to make a story that NOBODY could predict. And yet, YOU were the only one I never fully understood. But you seemed to always understand me, even if you hid it behind a veil of confusion. Don’t you see it Wail, don’t you understand!? Their lives, the final chapter that they never saw coming, taken by a monster who uses THEIR kind of weapons. It’s so elegant! It took time to find the right one, but I’ve truly outdone myself this time! All of them will be poetry, the stage to elevate my writing to the next level-!”
“THEY WERE YOUR FRIENDS!”
“They were acquaintances.” He said flatly. “My one true friend has always been you and only you, Wail.”
“Stacy? Boring. Bradley? Unimpressive. Luke? Predictable. Andy?” He said that last name with a hint of hatred behind his voice. “All that lug had going on for him was his strength. The brute couldn’t even count how many victims I’ve transformed into my works. FIFTEEN YOU BRUTE! JUST USE YOUR FINGERS IF YOUR BRAIN DOESN’T WORK!”
“Then the masks-”
“Yep. One mask for every 5. It's the signature I've decided to go with. Once again, I applaud you, my friend.” Wail’s face, having previously been marked with betrayal, was now filled with that same unbound determination. It made Kupfer ecstatic looking at it.
“Yes. Yes! There it is, that perfect expression, the perfect situation! You’d only expect to see something like this in fiction, but watching it happen in real time is what my work truly needs!”
Instead of responding to his statement, Wail coldly but factually stated “I’ll kill you, Kupfer. I’ll kill you. No matter how you change, where you go, if you don’t kill me right now, I will know how to find you, and I will be the one to kill you.”
“I know, dear friend. I know. And so, as tragic as it is, this chapter must also come to a close. You will be my greatest inspiration. And you can die knowing that through my work, you and I will both achieve the goal of becoming the fifth greatest, together!” Walking towards Wail now, Kupfer stood a few feet away before aiming the barrel at Wail’s head. He looked at his determined face one last time before preparing for the finale.
Fiv-
He stopped, face scanning Wail’s expression right before pulling the trigger. It had changed again, at the moment before death. But he didn’t show any signs of fear, anger, or malice, only betrayal. It made Kupfer freeze in his tracks, recollection flashing through his eyes. Wail, with eyes closed, opened them to find a new expression on Kupfer’s face: contemplation. This new expression had him more scared than before, but his determination overtook him again before he attempted to lunge at the gun. Kupfer however, was still observing him like an eagle and reacted accordingly. Bang. His screams rang through the air, pain coursing through his nerves. Looking down, he could see a bullet wound through his foot.
“I’ve changed my decision. You want to kill me, yes? Then try it. You will be the first of a kind that I’ve made, a living chapter! Doesn’t it sound so interesting, Wail!?” He spoke with enthusiasm, though Kupfer’s ears seemed to be the only recipient of those words. Transforming into a towering, grotesque figure, eyes turning black, face elongating into the shape of a deer skull, and limbs stretching as thin as the branches of a young tree, he knelt down beside Wail’s face and whispered in a distorted voice,
“I’ll be expecting you. I know you’ll find me.” before knocking his friend out.
---
Waking up under a thin sheet of snow, Wail’s eyes were blinded by the piercing rays of sunlight. He looked down to see a bandaged foot, and with pain coursing through his body, wept. He wept remembering the screams of his friends, the fire from last night, and the betrayal of the one who he thought was his closest friend. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his legs, and only one thought was on his mind.
“Who can understand me now…”
---
5 years later
The burnt cabin of 5 Pendleton Close was a mystery. A man claimed to have travelled there with 4 of his friends but was the only one to make it out alive. Investigations, however, revealed no evidence of any bodies at the scene of the accident. The only noteworthy occurrence other than his survival that night was the miraculous preservation of the main bedroom, with a copper mask found inside. With no other evidence to go off of other than his claims however, the investigation came to a standstill.
Meanwhile, that same man jotted down notes in a journal. Though only 5 years had passed, his aged appearance would have people believing he was 10 years older than he was. Weapons on his person, he walked through a mountain range with purpose. Disappearances of hikers in the area, 4 to be specific, had made some attention, but many wrote it off as the locals stirring up a story for the light to shine on their town. He was getting closer; he could feel it, or rather, he knew it. Picking up the pace, he set his sights upon the houses coming into view, hoping to question the townsfolk. Elsewhere, an author began contemplating. His story was coming to a close, the 5th chapter almost ready to begin. Tapping the end of a pen against his table, a flash of inspiration shot through his mind. Flipping the pen over, he began to write, prepared to conclude his story.
Chapter 5: The Maske