The Deletion- 19th Hour

The words seemed to keep on appearing on the pages.

I ran to wash my hand in the sink, making sure that no glass particles were stuck in there.

Wrapping my hand in the bed sheet, I started reading.

This was the Diary of a man named Jack.

As the days passed in his life, he made a new entry into the book.

He wrote about his family. His father, John. His Mother, Katherine. His Sister, Mary and his Brother, Michael.

Michael? Could it be...

Jack never stopped writing, even as he fell sick from a poisoning. He went about seeing friends, once he got well. He talked about his Friend, Thomas. He talked about his lover, Jane. He talked about his town, his home, his work.

He never stopped writing, writing about the grisly murders that happened in the town he was staying in.

He wrote about what he found about the victims, people he knew, people he had seen the very day before.

And on 11th November, he stopped writing.

A voice behind me startled me.

'Ah. I see you found a way to open the diary.'

Michael was standing behind me, watching me read the book.

'There are other ways?'

'Plenty of ways.', Michael said, looking at my hand. He was smiling.

Michael came close to me. He took my hand, removed the sheet and wiped the blood. There were no marks of my hand being cut.

I had more pressing things to ask than healing hands.

'Whose book is this?'

'I am sure that you would have guessed by now.'

'Your brother...?'

Michael smiled.

He gestured at me to walk behind him.

I got up, following him. I took the diary along with me.

As I left the room, I saw Vin in a jail of sorts, chained to the floor.

Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

I walked forward, following Michael as he walked with a purpose in mind.