Any Resemblance To Real People Is Terrible

20251011

Written for Bradley Ramsey's "First Indulgence" event.

Craig never wanted to pass the Spook Mag to anyone else. It was his self-made start as a writer., and had made him a minor celebrity on campus, a fact he reminded himself of every time imposture syndrome loomed.
But… the workload for a Masters was so much higher. And he had a novel he wanted to write. Producing three short stories a week became a serious strain. He had no time to live.
He knew what he should do. A dozen drafts of the post languished on his hard drive. Thank his readers, explain the time crunch, find other aspiring writers to hand the magazine on to. Preferably first-years.
It was the right thing to do. The sensible thing to do.
Yet the concept was unbearable. Handing being “the Spook Mag guy” to some rando, letting them inherit the fruits of his hard work and creativity… the idea that he’d spent years building this and it was going to be for nothing…
One more year. He’d keep it going one more year, until he had to give it up on graduation.
So, how to manage?
That led Craig to guiltily browsing a ghost writer site. Thankfully one understanding of clients needing discreet assistance. And for the amount of writing he wanted it was affordable.
Giving up his pizza budget was far less painful than losing admiration.
And Olivia was sympathetic. Polite and even enthusiastic about his work. She assured him that she could produce similar stories and of course he’d retain full rights and was free to edit before publishing.
Such a weight off his chest.
The test mags - before he signed anything - went down well. Sure, he’d prefer to be the real author, but seeing his audience happy soothed the uncomfortable twinges. This was best for everyone. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
So he paid for that week’s work, signed the contract for ongoing work, and looked forward to having far more free time.
Problems started next issue. When doing his editing pass he hadn’t thought to look into the character’s name. Turned out Sylvia Worcester was a second-year music student! And she was understandably taken aback and upset to see everyone sharing a story about her running from a sinister figure in the fog and falling off parkside bridge.
Craig immediately issued a public apology, assured everyone that it wasn’t targeted and he hadn’t realised the name matched (which was true), and promised to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. He deleted the issue from his website and asked everyone who’d taken one of the printed copies to get rid of it.
When he rushed to check the other stories waiting to be published, he found those also had names matching students in the registry. Thankfully a quick find-replace resolved that. He sent a carefully polite email to Olivia, explaining that while he set the stories locally, often on campus, he didn’t base characters on real people.
Sylvia accepted his apology. While subscriber numbers plummeted he also got messages of sympathy and support. The furore started settling down.
Everything might’ve gone back to normal if, seven days after the story published, Sylvia hadn’t drowned.
It didn’t make sense. At first, when he saw the announcement, Craig thought it must be some fucked up prank. That someone with access to the uni’s socials wanted to get back at him.
But no. It was real.
She’d been heading home as it got dark. Just like in the story. Passer-bys heard her scream, and she’d run down the path by the river, and somehow gone over the railing. Just like in the story.
The police were investigating it as a suspected suicide.
Craig clutched his head, blinking back tears, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.
Had she really…? Surely not just because of his gaff, surely? But… it wouldn’t have helped.
Had he been part of this?
He shuttered the website and posted that he was furloughing the Spook Mag. Told everyone [It doesn’t feel right to put out horror stories when a real tragedy has struck our community - especially if my mistake naming a character contributed. My thoughts are with Sylvia’s loved ones.]
Naturally the police investigated him. With the only communication between him and Sylvia being her accepting his apology, the interview was over quickly.
Then one asked “Have you gotten any new writing tools lately?”
“Uh…” Craig blinked. “What?”
“A new pen. Or typewriter.” The officer’s expression was utterly serious. “Even an eraser or desk ornament. Anything new, no matter how small, which you used while writing this story.”
Olivia. But that was absurd. Right? And would risk exposing his “cheating”. So Craig shook his head.
They urged him to think hard and check his belongings, then left.
Just in case, Craig told Olivia the deal was off, since he wouldn’t be publishing mags.
Problem solved.
Two days later, one week after the second story published, a student was found dead in the parking lot, their skull crushed by a tyre - but the bloodied wheel belonged to a car on the other side of campus, with no marks between them.
Just like in the story.
Craig rushed to check the original name, from Olivia’s version.
Harrison Green. The deceased.
No. Nononono.
In a panic he found the name for the third story - Marcus Candler - and sent a warning, begging him not to go to his friend’s birthday party.
His warning wasn’t enough.
Saturday night he received a new set of stories from Olivia. She still hadn’t acknowledged his messages.
The preview for the third story had a character called Craig Hayward.
He didn’t read it. But he printed it out. Printed everything out, every message related to this deal. Put them in an envelope. Addressed it to the police. Included a note - “I never meant for this to happen. I’m so, so sorry.”
It slipped into the post box without fanfare. Then Craig turned and, with shaky meandering steps, walked into the river.

Prompt was “Desperate to stay on top of deadlines, a famous author hires a ghostwriter to help them keep up. They seem strange, but they do good work. That is, until their stories start coming true…”