The Place at the End of Existence / An Unconventional Adventure

By J Fine

The Place at the End of Existence

Ahn is in trouble. And where he lives that means trouble.

People just appear at the camp, a vast sprawling shanty town at the edge of existence, where the supernatural is never far away. The detectives try to keep some semblance of law and order; but when they are attacked it is just the start of the camp's danger. With powerful forces at play, the survivors need to stop the attackers, and quickly...

An Unconventional Adventure

An enjoyable and wacky romp involving mystery, monsters and more.

When Mellissa Farum meets a man called Hymnal under strange circumstances, it is a hint at what is to come. With something important under threat, and a dangerous weapon needing to be secured, they find themselves in danger. Unconventional danger, of course.

Two short stories of approx 8,000 words each.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Fine
• Release date: May 11, 2015

J Fine

Born in London and living in Manchester . Visit blog for more stories etc. Always appreciates feedback.

Book preview

The Place at the End of Existence

They were cooking goose again, the smell of the roasting meat travelling through the neighbourhood of lost causes like the stench of rot that had gone before it. Ahn breathed in deeply, savouring the smell, milking every last drop.

It was hard to come by food here, what with its disorganised blend of half-order and chaos, and so the boy knew to enjoy the smell, to greedily suck every last drop of it out of the air.

He was moving towards the edge of the camp where the shoddy houses and shacks finally gave way to the bare rock of the mountain; towards where the most embittered and worn-out congregated, building up their courage to start the short climb to the end. It was a curious fact that no one ended their life here in any other way; no-one swallowed the bitter herb that grew so abundantly by the entrance of the camp, no-one dashed themselves on the rocks that waited for anyone who hurled themselves from one of the plentiful ridges that ringed and staggered all over the mountain. No, the only route taken by those who tired of life was the climb all the way up the steep slope to where reality ended, and then they would step into the nothingness that awaited. It was said you could hear the terrible screams in your dreams, but no-one had ever heard them awake; and so the daily pilgrimage continued from all over the camp.

While suicide only took one form, murder could take many. As Ahn made his way to his destination, a man dressed in a coat of such age that it was an indescribable shade of either grey or brown, was stood there, chewing a toothpick with the sagacity of an expert.

‘Ugly thing Mr Brown,’ he said, addressing a stooped, balding man who answered to that name. ‘Head clean hacked off. And when he was in lost causes as well.’ The other nodded. It was seldom necessary to kill those who dwelt in the neighbourhood of lost causes, all being but a few days away from making the trek up the mountain.

‘Yes, yes.’ Mr Brown’s voice had to it a peculiar softness, almost breathy in timbre, so that it made him sound as if far away. His skin was spotted with large blotches, and a curious sheen on his skin told of ill-health. Mr Brown was one of the rarities- one who dwelt in lost causes for reasons other than the end.

‘So this lodger of yours came here last week.’ Again Mr Brown nodded, his head never quite reaching the level even at the apex of the movement.

‘Yes, yes. He paid up front- in food of course, quite a bit of food.’ A smile carried across the thin lips at the memory.

‘When was he going to go?’

‘He didn’t say.’ The two men looked at each other for a moment; the one chewing furiously, the other with his slightly bent poise and inclined head making it look as if he were paying homage. At last the man in the overcoat spoke.

‘Well Mr Brown, you have been most cooperative. I shall ask the council to sanction some sort of compensation- maybe an extra blanket or such like- in exchange for what you have done. And the body, of course.’

‘Of course,’ echoed Mr Brown and the thin smile made a reappearance.

There was a knock on the door. The balding man flashed a glance at the detective, who nodded.

‘Enter,’ the old man said, raising his voice but still sounding curiously distant. The door opened and Ahn walked in. The first thing he saw was the body. Startled by the blood-soaked horror, his eyes scanned the room, resting first on the detective, then the landlord and finally on the head nailed to the wall to his left. Horror was clear on his face, which the detective was watching with a thoughtful expression. His chewing slowed down and he spoke.

‘Looking for this man?’ he gestured with a wide sweep to the body and head. Ahn shook his head, then recovering, nodded.

‘Yes,’ he finally managed to say.

‘Well, he’s here. You may as well state your business.’ The detectives manner was neutral, no hint of an expression on his face as he said the words. Ahn remained silent.

‘Well boy?’ demanded the detective in a more forceful voice. ‘You do know what I am, don’t you?’ Ahn nodded, and his eyes strayed to Mr Brown. The detective pulled out his toothpick, now thoroughly crushed, and replaced it with a new one. An expression of pleasure passed over his face.

‘Mr Brown,’ he said, after a moments enjoyable chewing; ‘will you be so good as to give us some privacy?’

‘Of course,’ came the soft reply, and the man withdrew, a knowing expression on his stained face. There was a long