Monster of Blue

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

     Blue fluorescent lighting casts around my face, burning my eyes. The tapping of my keyboard echoing in my room as I write in Google’s search engine, chasing away the otherwise uncomfortable silence. The machine binges as my search comes up: a video pops up of a band called ‘I-Monster’. Scrolling down I find my search coming up empty handed as all the sites have to do with the band and their song ‘Daydream in Blue’. Changing my tactics, I type in ‘man in blue mask.’ Images of men wearing full covered blue masks are the first thing to show up this time. Sighing, I scroll back down hoping for anything else…anything of use. 

     Nothing, not a single shred of evidence that he’s real is here. 

     Frustrated, I lean back in the chair. Massaging my temples when a tingling sensation begins in my arm. Eyeing it self-consciously, I reach out a hand to scratch at the mark.

      I can feel it growing. Like…roots creeping over my arm up to my shoulder. 

     I rub the mark slightly harder than necessary as the small agitation grows, but eventually give up on the notion that the feeling will leave. Letting my mind roam for a clue on what to look up, the old ladies’ rhyme shuffles back through my thoughts. Snapping up in attention, I hurriedly type the rhyme in the search bar and press enter. 

     But, my excitement diminishes to disappointment once the computer finishes its search—nothing. Chewing on my bottom lip I grab a sticky note from the desk and pull it toward me. Lifting a pen I scribble down things that I know about the stranger: 

·               Wears a blue mask with no strings

·               Gray color skin

·               Black eyes

·               Seems to always be wearing a blue suit

·               Has an infliction to cookies

·               Pops up randomly

·               Has a tendency to call me ‘love’

·               Left his growing ‘mark’ on me·                

     My writing slows as I write the last note. 

·               Won’t leave me alone and keeps saying that he is coming for me 

     Sitting back I scan over my short list with frustration. I don’t know his name or where he is from. I don’t even know what he wants, other than he’s coming for me. At the end of the list I furiously scribble down: Who is he? 

     Stumped, I relax in my chair twirling the pen as my mind wanders off. There is nothing on him over the Internet and the only one that has a slight idea of who I’m dealing with is senile. My eyes widen and my twirling fingers stop. 

     Minnie Boiler.

      Straightening up I write her name on the paper, the only other person who knows about him. She’s the closest resource—if not the only resource—in finding out whom and what the monster is. 

     Dread fills me at the knowledge that I will have to once again venture out to that place. It is not ideal. Many variables could play into this, in not allowing me to get the answers I seek. Could I really risk going and having Minnie less than useful like last time? I look down at the list and reread what I wrote. With grim determination I scribble down her location, knowing that she is my only lead in this mystery.