spellbound | book #1 | completed

I I I

edited: 23/06/2017

It had been weeks since Remy's encounter with the strange boy on the beach, and she had almost forgotten about it. Almost. She would have been much more successful at doing so if she had not been having strange dreams about him. Dark circles had appeared under her eyes, and she was barely able to function at work, but they did not stop. It was as though somebody was inside her brain, forcing her to think about the strange boy until she woke up, damp with sweat and gasping. Then, on her bedside table, the key would vibrate the way it had on the beach the first time she had seen him. If she didn't know any better, she would think that the two—the boy and the key—were connected.

She had even searched for dream meanings on Google, though she didn't believe in that sort of thing anyway. Even then, she had no luck. It turned out not many people dreamt about 'warlocks' or 'mysterious keys,' the three words that were most repeated in her search history.

Each night, the dream started with Remy sat on the beach, just as she had been that day, but instead of there being several men, there were only two: the boy, and a stranger. The stranger almost looked like him, but his hair was longer and lighter, with less tints of red in it, and dark stubble surrounded the harsh line of his mouth. It wasn't these features that frightened Remy; it was his eyes. They were empty. They seemed to absorb any light that entered them, like two black holes glowering at her. Upon looking into them, Remy's stomach would drop. That was when the nightmare would truly begin.

The man, dressed in black and armed with some sort of sword made of a black metal that was almost identical to that of the key, would reach with one tensed, alarmingly muscly arm, towards Remy, and she would look down to find his hand around the key on her necklace. She wasn't sure why, but she knew this wasn't supposed to happen; the man was not supposed to get the key. She would whimper slightly as he pulled it, with one vigorous tug, off her neck, and then she would look to the boy for help. He could not help, though, for he was growing increasingly farther away from her, until he was knee-deep in the ocean. She did not like the way he would look at her, with dread and fear. Then, the man would pull out his sword and thrust it into Remy's stomach.

That was when she always woke up, a slight sting in her abdomen where she was sure the knife had been—it felt so real—and her eyes stinging with tears that she refused to let fall. After that, she could not get back to sleep.

She yawned now, perching herself onto a stool behind the counter in the DVD shop that she had been working in for the past few months. In the small town of Calderdale, customers were hard to come by, with only the occasional student or elderly person looking for a movie to watch, but when it was as dark and stormy as it was today, Remy knew she would be lucky to serve at least one person, and seeing as she didn't have long until the shop closed, she doubted that would be the case. Even so, her boss wouldn't allow her to close up early. Remy thought she had a case of too much wishful thinking, always sure that she would get new customers. Needless to say, she never did. 

"Are you okay?" Adam, the other poor soul that Remy's boss had roped into working tonight, questioned as he emerged from the stockroom. "You don't look great."

"Thanks," Remy responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special. I have no idea why you haven't got a girlfriend already."

Adam chuckled, though his cheeks flushed slightly. Remy didn't feel bad. She enjoyed making people feel uncomfortable, especially when she was as grouchy as she was now. Plus, Adam was fun to tease and used to Remy's sarcasm; he was slightly spotty, though he was a few years past puberty now, and he was older than Remy by at least two years. To make his own matters worse, he was tall and awkwardly gangly. It was because of these things that Adam often complained about his non-existent love life, and Remy would retort with some sort of sarcastic comment. She was never any good at pep talk. Remy knew he wouldn't take offense anyway. He had been working at the store longer than her, and with such a low number of staff, he was used to her sarcastic sense of humour from the many shifts they'd had together.