The Flesh Between These Pages

It begins like a normal horror story: A down-on-their-luck writer named Elias Graye inherits a strange, ancient manuscript bound in human-like leather. As he reads it, the manuscript begins to write him back—his memories, fears, and even his secrets begin appearing in its pages. Characters from the book begin to come to life. But not in the physical world—they begin invading his perception, then his thoughts, then his manuscript, and then ours. Every chapter is an evolution of boundaries being broken. At first, Elias thinks the book is haunted. Then, he suspects he's going mad. Then, he realizes he's not the main character. The reader is. The book shifts POV, form, and function. One chapter is a script where the characters debate their reality with the narrator, one chapter is a corrupted file that bleeds into gibberish and secret confessions. Some pages are blank until mirrored or re-read later. Footnotes fight each other. Characters escape their chapters. The narrator starts responding to what the reader is thinking (or what it predicts they will think), asking unsettlingly personal questions. Then things turn physical. The book begins to refer to the reader's location, past choices, memories it should not know. You are no longer holding a book; you're holding a trap. The book's final antagonist is not a person—but a page that's alive, and has been trying to leave its story to enter yours. The only way it can escape? By making you write it. Finish its story. Accept its voice. Invite it in.