NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Feather in the Well
Morning Routine Interrupted
Arin woke to the sharp buzz of his alarm clock, groaning as he reached over to silence it. He rubbed his eyes, the early morning light spilling into his room through the gaps in the curtains. Something felt off.
The ceiling fan above him wasn't spinning, and the air in the room was stifling. He got up and flipped the light switch. Nothing.
"No power," he muttered.
Dragging himself to the bathroom, he turned on the faucet. The pipes groaned but released nothing but a hollow gurgle. "And no water. Great."
His family's house, an old two-story structure on the outskirts of town, often faced such issues. The property, with its overgrown backyard and the remnants of an unused well, carried an air of forgotten history.
Arin sighed. His mother had warned him the water tank was running low. Now, he had no choice but to fetch water from the well, a task he hadn't done in years.
---
The Well in the Backyard
Grabbing an old bucket and a fraying rope, Arin trudged to the backyard. The morning air was cool, carrying the faint scent of wet earth. The well stood at the far end of the yard, its stone structure weathered by time. Weeds had grown around its base, and the wooden cover creaked as he slid it aside.
"Here goes nothing," he said, lowering the bucket into the well. The rope slid through his hands until he heard the splash of water below. As he began to pull it up, the rope jerked, catching on something.
Frowning, Arin peered into the well. A faint metallic glint caught his eye, wedged between the stones just above the waterline. Intrigued, he carefully maneuvered the bucket to dislodge the object.
When he pulled the bucket back up, it wasn't just filled with water—it carried a small wooden box.
---
The Strange Box
The box was about the size of a shoebox, intricately carved with swirling patterns resembling feathers and vines. Its surface gleamed faintly, despite being covered in grime and algae.
"What the hell is this doing down there?" Arin muttered, brushing away the dirt.
The carvings felt smooth under his fingers, and as he turned the box over, he noticed no seams or hinges. It looked like a single piece of wood. He tried prying it open, but it wouldn't budge.
Carrying it inside, he placed it on his desk and fetched a screwdriver. After a few minutes of careful probing, the lid popped open with a soft click.
Inside, nestled in a bed of dark velvet, was a single feather.
---
The Feather's Allure
The feather shimmered with an unnatural light, shifting between hues of gold, silver, and deep violet. Its surface seemed alive, with faint patterns glowing like runes etched into its delicate fibers.
Arin picked it up hesitantly. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a strange warmth spread through his hand. The sensation was both comforting and unnerving, as though the feather recognized him.
He turned it over, noticing tiny symbols running along the quill. They looked like a language, but one he couldn't decipher.
"What are you?" he whispered, holding it up to the light.
Something about the feather felt... alive.
---
The Plucking Incident
Arin debated whether to put the feather back in the box or keep examining it. His curiosity got the better of him. On an impulse, he plucked the feather.
The moment he did, a sharp jolt shot through his arm, making him drop it. The feather floated gently to the ground, undisturbed by the sudden motion.
His heart raced as the room seemed to darken for a moment. He felt a weight settle in the air, pressing down on his chest. A faint whisper echoed in his ears, though he couldn't make out the words.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, the feeling vanished.
Shaking his head, Arin placed the feather back in the box and slid it under his bed. He chalked the experience up to exhaustion and went about his day, trying to ignore the lingering unease.
---
A Restless Night
By the time night fell, Arin had all but forgotten about the feather. He lay in bed, scrolling through his phone, trying to distract himself from the strange events of the morning.
Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was not peaceful.
Arin's dreams were vivid and disorienting. He felt as though he were falling through an endless void, surrounded by shadows and flickering lights.
When he finally opened his eyes, he wasn't in his room.
---
The Game World
Arin found himself standing in a dense, foreboding forest. The trees towered above him, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky. A faint mist swirled around his feet, and the air was cold, carrying an eerie stillness.
"Where... am I?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
In the distance, he heard the faint rustling of leaves, followed by a low, guttural growl. Panic surged through him as he turned in every direction, searching for the source of the sound.
Before he could react, a glowing screen appeared before him, floating in mid-air:
Welcome to Ethereal Night. Survive or perish.
The growl grew louder, and a pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness.
Arin stumbled backward, his heart pounding as a shadowy creature lunged at him.
---
Ending Scene
The last thing Arin saw before everything went black was the creature's fangs, inches from his face.
When he woke up, drenched in sweat, his arm bore a fresh, jagged scar.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
---
_________________________________________
More episode are available in patreon
Our patreon id is
patreon.com/Noan994
Support for more interesting stories