Tattered Notebook by Gabriel Bishop - 2026 Fantasy Writing Competition 3rd Place Winner

Tattered Notebook

by Gabriel Bishop

I really need to get a hobby. 

Practically every Saturday, I get called up by some ghost hunter wannabes asking to use my recording equipment. 

They find some ‘promising results’ in some run-down place and want to check it out, but can’t go themselves because they have to ‘keep an eye on energy levels’ or whatever. It usually ends up with me having to stay overnight in an abandoned building to record ‘activity’ that never leads to anything. 

They offer to pay regardless if I find something, but the amount they pay barely covers equipment expenses. So really, I'm just wasting my weekends because some people can't be bothered doing things themselves. 

I finally get to the place, it’s a lot more out of the way than normal, so that payment will likely only be enough for gas now, cheapskates. It looks like it was abandoned halfway through building it, lots of tarp and bare concrete walls, you know the type. 

I got set up in the room they told me about, night vision cameras, EVP machines, silent motion detectors. Some things for the ‘ghosts’ and some things for any crackheads or squatters that may wander inside. The layout makes me think it was supposed to be a living room of sorts, or I guess half living room, half kitchen since there's a mangled fridge laying on the floor. 

Naturally, since this building is so far out, phone signal is basically non-existent here. I got bored of waiting almost immediately so I scoured through the room for something to kill time, but all I could find were some old newspapers and a notebook labeled “Memory Vault.” I was a bit too hasty moving them, to check for anything more interesting underneath, and a loose page of the notebook fell out. It was a crude drawing of a long, thin figure in a great deal of distress. 

Normally, I wouldn't just read through a random notebook that's clearly supposed to be a personal journal of some kind. But why was this… unnerving sketch inside it? 

Unfortunately, curiosity and boredom got the better of me. I put my equipment down and sat on the floor, in case it was long read, and turned to the first page. 

I've started writing this sort of diary/journal to make absolutely sure I'm not losing my mind. Something really strange has been happening the last week or so, like I thought about where my car keys were and next thing I know, they're right next to me on the kitchen table, and I was positive I left them in the hall. It's messing with my head, literally, this headache hasn't stopped yet. 

Got to work, just like normal, when I find out that apparently I handed my two weeks in last month. I was thinking about quitting for a while, but I don't remember going through with it. I guess I can't complain though, fuck that place.

I think the mirror’s broken, anytime I try to look at it my face starts to melt. It's really freaky, I might just stop looking at my reflection at this point. 

Oh, it's just nothing. The random notebook in an abandoned building is just someone being paranoid, big shocker. 

But something on the next page caught my attention. 

“I just teleported” 

They're just making stuff up right? Maybe delusional? Sleepwalking? 

My curiosity was rekindled, I kept reading. 

Am I going crazy? I think I just teleported. In any other situation I would be excited, but it's hard to feel like that when you're standing on the top of one of the twin towers. No idea how I'm supposed to get off of this alive. Maybe I can try teleporting back down? 

Update: ow. It worked, but still, ow 

Had my morning ruined by some cops busting down my door, would've caved my face in if I was any closer to it. APPARENTLY one of my neighbours saw something break into my apartment. Which is funny because I've been HOME ALL DAY and HAVEN'T SEEN SHIT. I LIVE ALONE. NO ONE ELSE IS HERE. And I'm aware it's been awhile since my last haircut, but calling me 'young lady' was kinda uncalled for. 

...So turns out that wasn't just a mirror thing. Some random guy started yelling about a 'freaky grey alien' and pointed directly at me, and his, I think, friend kept telling him to calm down and said 'calling a fat German kid an alien isn't nice, Collin.' So something is going on with the way I look, still don't want to see my reflection just yet. 

I looked... I'm not going to write about it. If anything, I'd prefer to forget what I saw entirely. 

I left. I don't know how much longer I could stay there before... problems happen. People started talking about me, rumors are spreading, it's not safe anymore. God, this headache just won't end, it's just a constant fuzziness. It gets worse whenever I think about my old job for some reason. I'll see if I can find something for it. 

I found an abandoned building, it looks like crap but it's better than nothing. At least it'll help me hide from those people I keep seeing wandering around. I'm not a conspiracist but they definitely look like agents of some kind. FBI? CIA? Who knows. 

There's a scratching sound constantly going throughout the day, but no matter where I look nothing is there. I even teleported to a few rooms to see if I could catch whatever it was off guard, but nothing. I swear I've been losing my damn mind ever since this started happening.

The supernatural stuff, not the scratching. 

The scratching hasn't stopped, and it somehow managed to get worse, I think it's... groaning? I've only been here a day and I'm already thinking of leaving again. Thankfully whoever's been here left some newspapers so I can distract myself, they've got these fun little comic strips of a boy talking to his pet tiger, no idea how I've managed to miss these until now. Maybe I should start collecting them... 

At this point, I'm so confused by this person's ramblings that I was determined to finish it just to get an explanation. The urge for an answer to whatever the hell is happening captivated me. 

Captivated me so much I didn't realise my motion detectors had tripped. 

It was a fox! It somehow managed to get stuck behind the broken fridge! I'm not losing my mind! update: it bit me. It didn't look like it had rabies or anything, but the bite doesn't look right. I can't exactly go get something for it or I might start a local cryptid story. 

What the fuck is happening to me. I just shed my skin?? I took a quick nap and when I woke up my skin was just… there. And that fox bite from earlier... it's just.. gone?? Like it was never there?? But the strangest part, I feel a lot better right now than I have ever since this all started. Did the shedding do this?? 

This... this isn't the first time it's happened... I just found 2 3 5 6 more skins. I don't think anything bad is coming from it though, this is the best I've ever felt. It's like I've been reborn, stronger, healthier, better. Wish it would get rid of this damn headache instead of making it hurt more. Still, I'm having the unshakable feeling that something is wrong. Everything seems ok, though. It's probably just in my head. 

I guess the purpose of this book is changing now. Still unsure if I'm going insane or not, but everything that's been happening is definitely real. But there's a new problem with this headache, and this.. shedding. I think it's affecting my memory. Trying to remember certain things in my past feels like straining my eyes to see something blurry in the distance. Some details about myself and my life that I should know I just.. don't anymore. I'm scared. I don't know why this is happening to me. 

There's a sticky note on the bottom. "Add personal details about yourself tomorrow, just in case you lose them too." It’s been fastened onto the page with tape. 

I got hurt, seriously hurt, and I had to shed, I had to, to protect myself. But now... now I.. I don't even know who 'I' am anymore. I... I've forgotten who I am. I don't remember anything about me

Whatever it was that gave me these abilities, it... it ERASED me. My face. My family. My name. IT TOOK MY NAME FROM ME. JUST WHO THE HELL AM I??? I CAN'T EVEN LOOK IN THE MIRROR TO REMIND MYSELF SINCE THAT... THING REPLACED ME. I'VE FORGOTTEN WHO I AM 

Was this the price I had to pay for powers? Having everything that made me ME stripped away?? I never asked for any of this... why is this happening to me? Why me? WHY ME?!!! 

I don't know who I am anymore 

I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM 

I JUST WANT IT TO STOP 

GIVE ME BACK 

GIVE ME BACK 

I started flicking through the deranged drawings, pages ripped and torn, and endless repeating strings of ‘give me back.’ 

…What a waste of time. Wish I watched something instead of reading the diary of a lunatic. 

I go to put the notebook down, and it vanishes from my hand 

I started looking around the area near me in case I just dropped it somewhere, and when I stopped to think about where it might’ve gone, that’s when I finally felt it. 

The sense that I’m not alone. 

The feeling of being watched. 

The presence of a figure standing behind me. 

I turn around and What the Fuck is That?! It's got more neck than body. Is that 8… no, 9 heads? And way too many teeth. Wait, I’ve heard of this thing before… a hydra? I think? It's holding onto the notebook with one of the heads, like it's an arm. Is this the thing that wrote it?? 

Wait.. no.. this is a prank, right? It’s like… a puppet or something, there’s no way anything in that book actually happened. C’mon Chuck, you go to ‘haunted’ places every weekend and nothing happens. The people who called are probably just some prank YouTubers or teenagers who have nothing better.

In a single, swift motion, a cluster of the heads shot out towards me. Instinctively I raised my arm to defend myself, but that only gave them an easier target to sink their many, many teeth into. Whatever this thing is, it’s real. All of it is real, and I’m in danger. I can’t die here. I need to get out.

I used my free hand to punch them away. I only hit one head, but all of the cluster reacted at the exact same time, in the exact same way. My fight or flight has gone into complete overdrive, everything about this is making less and less sense. And when I punched it, what I felt definitely wasn't scales. It was hair. Hair and skin. Like I just punched my uncle in the face. 

Still, that didn't stop me from using that brief moment of freedom to run, checking my bite mark for any signs of infection as I booked it out of there as fast as my legs could take me. It looks like human teeth, but there’s only one set. 

I looked back to see if it was following me, but it only stood there, staring me down with anger in its eyes as the distance between us grew larger. Then, in an instant, it vanished into thin air, notebook and all. 

Its presence disappeared, the feeling of being watched was gone. 

But that didn't stop me from running like hell, and hoping this bite won’t lead to anything worse. 

I really need to get a hobby.