The Silent Guide

It was a quiet afternoon. Sam had just signed the lease for a two-bedroom apartment he had found at a reasonable price while searching for rentals. Some furniture remained in the rooms: a proper mattress with a metal bedframe, a brown leather sofa in the living room, and a glass coffee table.

The last remaining room had once been used as an office. A wooden computer desk with a couple of drawers sat against the wall. All were empty—except for one. When Sam tried to open it gently, it wouldn’t budge. After a bit more force, the drawer finally gave way, revealing a black diary with no visible markings. Curiosity pricked at him, even as he knew opening it might be an invasion of the previous tenant’s privacy.

Sam picked up the leather-bound diary and flipped it open. There was only one entry. The words looked commanding:

“Trust and obey, and fortune will smile. Ignore, and regret will haunt you.”

He flipped through the rest of the pages, but they were all blank. “It must be some kind of prank—or a creative joke,” Sam thought, yet the words lingered in his mind.

Later, as he got ready for bed, he felt compelled to look at the diary again. The first entry remained the same, but as he turned the page, a new instruction had appeared:

“Tomorrow morning, take your coffee from Brew & Bloom on Shallowedge Street instead of your usual Sip Happens on Roseman Street.”

“That’s… weird. And oddly specific. How would it even know where I get my morning coffee?” Unease crept over him, but the commanding words from the first page echoed in his mind. The instruction seemed simple enough—a tiny change in routine. What’s the worst that could happen?

The next morning, Sam stepped out of the apartment and turned left instead of his usual right, abandoning his daily route to his favorite coffee shop to follow the diary’s instructions. He had previously lived just two blocks closer, so his commute had remained the same—until today. Taking the new path added no more than five minutes to his commute, and trying new things once in a while wasn’t a bad idea, he told himself.

“Large cappuccino with a chocolate croissant, please,” Sam ordered at the counter, reaching for his wallet.

“A man of great taste—make it two,” said a voice behind him. Sam turned and froze. The most stunning woman he had ever seen was standing there, and before he realized it, she had handed her card to the cashier and paid for both of their orders.

“Thank you… you shouldn’t have. How can I ever repay you for this generosity?” Sam barely managed to speak. She winked and said,

“You can take me out to dinner tomorrow. Primavera at 8 p.m. Don’t be late.”

Before he could respond, she was gone. He realized she hadn’t even given her name.

“What about your coffee and croissant, miss?” he called after her, but was greeted with silence.

The rest of Sam’s day passed uneventfully, nothing out of his normal routine.

But if a date with a stunning stranger was the reward for visiting a different coffee shop, Sam felt like he had hit the jackpot. Maybe following the diary really did bring luck…

He grabbed the diary from his bedside table. Disbelief lingered that all of this wasn’t a dream. The diary had a new entry:

“Give a compliment to the first person smiling at you tomorrow.”

“Do something that makes me feel better about myself and doesn’t cost me anything? Almost makes me wish the list were bigger,” Sam chuckled to himself, then drifted into sleep.

The next morning, he walked past the quiet streets toward the coffee shop. In front sat an old woman on the ground, a small cup in front of her. Inside were only a few coins. She looked rough and unnerving—hair wild as if struck by lightning, clothes ragged and full of holes, fingertips bruised and stained. Yet she smiled broadly at Sam, rotten teeth peeking from the corners of her mouth.

He froze. How was he supposed to compliment someone looking like… her?

He fumbled in his pocket and said, “You have beautiful eyes, and I wish you a good rest of your day.”

Her face lit up. She reached for his hand.

“Thank you, young man. The world needs more generous people like you. Look under your mat by your apartment door when you get home.”

The hours at work dragged endlessly. Finally, jingling his keys, Sam approached his apartment—and paused. Something slumped beneath the mat.

Sam lifted the mat and froze. Beneath it lay a stack of dollar bills—five bundles, each wrapped with a silky red band.

Thirty thousand dollars.

Later, he met Janette—the woman from the coffee shop—and by the end of the night, he had her number and a passionate kiss. Within two days, he had met the most gorgeous woman and earned $30,000. Sam felt delirious. All of this was meant to be. He fetched the diary, eager to see what the next mission would be.

" Grab the object from the left drawer and use it on someone tomorrow.”

His hand shook from excitement as he pulled the drawer open—and froze. Inside lay a gun, its metal cold and gleaming under the faint light. Sam’s stomach turned. He had never even held a firearm before.

He stared at it, dread twisting in his chest. “Use it… on someone… tomorrow? This can´t be happening” The diary’s tone had no room for negotiation. His mind started racing: who? why? Could he even go through with this? Surely not.

Every rational thought screamed at him to close the drawer and forget about it, but a strange compulsion rooted him to the spot. The diary had rewarded obedience before… but this? This was different. Terrifying. Real.

Sam swallowed hard, his palms slick with sweat. The gun felt impossibly heavy in his hand, as if it carried the weight of a choice he didn’t want to make. He looked down at the diary lying on the table, its pages open as if daring him.

He didn’t even want to get out of bed the next morning. He knew he couldn’t kill someone. He would be arrested immediately—and what excuse could he give? A book told me to do it? The thought almost made him burst out laughing, but there was nothing funny about it.

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” Sam muttered, trying to push the diary from his mind. But boredom—and compulsion—drew him back to it that evening.

“This is your last warning. Stakes are higher. Use the gun on someone you know tomorrow or face the consequence.”

“Someone I know… it’s not just anyone anymore. I can’t. I won’t. I’ll just stop looking at this diary and carry on with my life without it,” Sam murmured aloud, slamming the diary shut with a heavy thud.

Two days later, a phone call shattered his fragile composure. On the other end, his mother was hysterical.

“Your father had a car accident around midnight. He was rushed to the hospital, but his injuries were too severe… he’s gone. Oh my God, what am I going to do without him, Sam?”

Sam felt nauseous. Could this be his fault? The diary’s consequence? No… that couldn’t be real.

He spent the week in bed, weeping under the covers, yet still, his hand found the diary.

“There’s no one to blame but yourself. Try again tomorrow or suffer furthermore.”

“This isn’t real. This diary doesn’t belong to me. I don’t belong here. I shouldn´t have moved.” Sam tore at his hair, muttering incoherently, pacing the room like a trapped animal.

He couldn’t have the opportunity to kill anyone if he didn’t leave his apartment

The day passed in a blur, Sam weeping under the covers and watching tv, trying to avoid the diary—but he couldn’t resist.

As he opened it again, the words sent a shiver down his spine. A sudden cold draft tickled the back of his neck. A soft creak came from the floor behind him. He froze. Heart hammering, shadows stretched and shifted in the corner.

“Do not look up from the diary…”

A whisper crawled into his ear: “I’m right behind you.”