Arthur and the Djinn: Series 1, Chapter 1

Every now and then I have one of those dreams where I wake up and I think 'Oh I would love the story behind that one.' There's been many dreams and sometimes I've had ideas from them. This one though, I'm going to try out. I know that not everything can get off the ground and I admit not everything is a good idea but who knows I could potentially just abandon it one day, but I want to find out. I've thought about a bit of a backstory and some filler to roll it through. I'm not sure if it ever ends or if it goes on forever but I guess we will see. You might also notice the lack of external art and images for this one. Bear with me. I've decided to stay original for as much as possible.

In summary, the story is about a Djinn, Arthur, Isabella and a ghost Leonard. The story is supposed to fold in to itself repeatedly while re-introducing the characters on new levels as it reveals new sides about them. This post isn't about Djinn so if you would like to know more about Djinn you will have to look 'Djinn' up for yourself. This story is about a particular journey that a Djinn goes through and I guess what that has to do with Arthur. It follows some traditional theories but also explores other possible alternatives. Like most modern themes it also breaks a lot of tradition and will introduce new ideas. This fiction story leads up, around and afterward of what I dreamt, just like I would want it to. I can't give it away. The dream itself is either the beginning of the end or the end of the beginning. You will just have to read it-bit by bit at a time (if you can stomach it, or wait that long seeing that Chapter release is sporadic).

So...for those who can... here it is.... Arthur and the Djinn.

#Arthur and the Djinn

Arthur and the Djinn

Prologue

The Djinn continued to sit in her tree and watch Isabelle, as she had for many hours and had on many occasions. Sometimes Isabelle stared at what seemed like nothing and at other times she was preoccupied, and maybe even fascinated at the people that passed her by. The Djinn watched. Waiting and contemplating.

Isabelle was not perfect. None of them were. None of them were but Isabella was the perfect choice. Time was up. It was time to go. The Djinn was old and weary, and it was over.

The Djinn attempted humanoid form, but little happened. It would of been nice to befriend her as a human first. They like that.

The Djinn attempted to look more like a Jeanie. Television, folklore and Facebook would of made that appealing, but little happened. The Djinn sighed. There must be less time than she thought. Thanks to the internet and movies who knows how impressive that was anymore. It wasn't like when they were building the pyramids. Back then you could just suddenly appear in front on someone and they would throw themselves down in front of you. They would beg for mercy or even worship you and then you could ask or demand whatever you wanted.

I guess that's just too bad.

'Tomorrow' she thought. When Lenny's not there.

Chapter 1

They fell to her very will. In crowds they stood and in crowds they fell. By her very will they fell and she walked in safety amongst the hoards of evil who hosted the bodies of the dead. They were just like zombies.

Isabelle woke suddenly and looked at the clock. 7am.

Isabelle rubbed her eyes and contemplated going back to sleep.

Isabelle thought of those instant oatmeal packets she had been buying recently. They helped her eat breakfast more regularly and get out of bed, and so she did. Not long later she was dressed, fed and bored. Isabella dressed warm enough to take the bite out the morning chill and stepped outside. She never liked getting dressed too warmly. It always got hot later. The sun was beautiful, warm and cosy. Later though, it would be unforgiving and the heat would make her armpits itch.

Isabelle sat on the bench by the lake. It was one bench of many but it was the bench she always chose. This time of morning it felt like hers and like she could enjoy it. Later it would not be possible. She had tried that. Sometimes it was an elderly couple, sometimes it was a mum with her kids. Many times it had been the unfamiliar faces of people she had never met or recalled seeing before. There was always someone there, sitting on that bench even though there were others. There was always someone else there. This time of morning was good. She could enjoy this mostly undisturbed. If she saw someone she knew she would talk. That would always happen later in the day but that that wasn't why she was here and during the morning it happened less often. Now was good and she hardly ever saw a familiar face. Further on into the day many would pass through the park, the one with the lake, often passing that bench on their way to or from Main Street. Right now it was silent and the lake had patches of golden sun in places which were otherwise overtaken with the upside down mirrored images of the bushes on the other side of the lake and the buildings that towered in the distance behind them. She did this once or twice a week and as often as she could. The world just needed to slow down.

Leonard didn't show up this morning. That was nice. Leonard pissed her off. Isabelle had all kinds of names she called Leonard and Leonard had asked her not to use any of them. Isabelle never called him Leonard to his face. Isabelle heard a laugh. For a moment she worried it was Leonard but further down the path was Arthur. Arthur laughed and stood still waiting for a family of ducks to pass. Their parents guarded them against Arthur who they seemed to monitor suspiciously. The ducklings waddled in quick succession to the pond, with the family then gliding to deeper waters, away from Arthur who had not noticed them until he had upset them. Arthur and Isabelle used to work together stocking shelves at Woolworths doing 'night fill.' That was years ago now. Isabelle now worked at Starbucks and slept better at night. Arthur now did freight delivery for PFD and she knew a lot less about him. Isabelle saw him a whole lot less too these days. She kind of missed him in a way. The way he let his stubble grow, only shaving before it became a beard and that smile. He was a nice guy too and his dumb jokes were too hard to resist. Sometimes Arthur was at the park too, but rarely. He was rarely anywhere she went.

'Hey Arthur,' greeted Isabelle. 'No petition today?'

'Huh?' said Arthur. 'Oh... Come on, I don't always have one. The Performing Arts Centre hasn't closed yet and council are very carefully considering the impact closing down with have on our community, just in case you're wondering.'

'Nice' said Isabelle. 'I was starting to wonder if you were using all my signatures to help you sustain your credit card fraud operations.'

'I wouldn't do that. And not to you. You should come see the Centre. It's looking good. They are holding another fundraising night.'

'I know. I always go.' Arthur never did.

'Well seeya'

'Bye'

Another laugh. This one was definitely Leonard. His dark prescence was there when she turned around. Isabelle looked briefly at the shadowy figure the went back to staring at the pond.

'Not now' said Isabelle. She was very sick of Leonard. 'You know I'm working today.'

'It's on the way', said Leonard 'I promise.'

Leonard had been leading Isabelle in the opposite direction of work for about 20 minutes before Isabelle suddenly stopped. She had been very patient with Leonard, as always, but now Isabelle was mad.

'Listen Jerkface, I need to go back now. This is as far as I can go without being late.'

Leonard simply said 'We're here'.

Isabelle stood in silence, waiting for something to happen or for someone to walk past or arrive. There was no one, no cars, no people, no birds, no life. Isabelle suddenly realised how creepy the street she was in was. The houses nearby look unkept and the grass grew tall around buildings along the side of the curb.

'Leonard?' she whispered.

A faint cry came from a nearby garbage bin. Not a cry, something else. Isabelle approached the bin. The lid came off easily and warm air gushed out to greet her. Only the smell of death and decay was inside. Isabelle dropped the lid and stumbled backwards.

'Why did I do that?' She wondered. Isabelle blamed Leonard.

Gasping, Isabelle bent over ready to dry retch. Next to the bin was a box. A small kitten was inside. The kitten was clean, young and alone. Isabelle gently picked up the kitten, cuddled it in her jacket and began walking back towards the town centre. Isabelle felt her face grow hot.

'A cat' she growled, under gritted teeth. 'You sent me here for a cat!'