Books and Crooks
"For the last time Casey, I said no. I refuse to go to the movies with those people." Alison Wysor said with a shake of her head.
Her best friend, Casey Domane sighed. Casey pushed her long blonde hair away from her face, her green eyes narrowed towards Alison. "You never go out with the group. They are your friends too yanno! Instead you rather sit home alone your nose stuck in a book!" she shouted, pulling the book out of Alison's hands. "It's unhealthy to be alone as much as you are," she added, putting her hands on her volumuious hips, the book tight in her clasp. Casey was a curvey tall blonde with an attitude to match.
"No, I just put up with them. The only ones I can actually stand to be with for more than an hour are you and Carson." Alison crossed her toned arms across her chest. She refused to budge. Alison was as stubborn as a bull, maybe more.
Out of the trio, Casey and Alison butt heads the most. They still consisted to stay friends though. Carson, the other one, was Casey's twin brother. He was a complete jock head, but he preferred to hang out with Alison and Casey instead, going against the status quo. Alison stood out in the trio because she had a long elegant body wound tight with muscles from eight years of dance and karate. She had a shoulder length fiery red hair, not orange red, but an almost scarlett tinted aburn and hazel eyes that seemed to change colors depending on what she wore.
Casey went back to flat ironing Alison's hair. Alison shifted, causing Casey to drop the flat iron.
"Can't you hold still for five minutes?" Casey asked.
"Not anymore, since the only reason your doing this is to dress me up for the movies... which I refuse to go to by the way."
Casey threw her hands up in the air. "You are so difficult! Please, just this once, please! Do it for me?" Casey pouted.
Alison sighed. "Fine. But if they anger me, I'm leaving."
Casey hopped up and down. "Yay! Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!"
Alison sighed again, and rubbed her temples. "Please stop, and hurry up and finish frying my poor hair."
Casey went back to straightening Alison's hair. Halfway through, she spoke again. "Promise to be on your best behavior."
Alison snorted rather unattractively, which is what she did instead of answering a question she found stupid.
' "Oh please Alison! You can be quite mean and rather sarcastic to them. They think you don't like them!"
"They just don't get my humorous nature. It's too mature for their simple minds," she answered with a simple shrug. "And being sarcastic is second nature. If they can't handle it. they should stay away from me. Both parties would be happy in the end."
Casey rolled her eyes at her friends brazen attitude. That was Alison though; blunt, opinionated, stubborn, and most of all sarcastically rude to everyone she did not like. And she did not like many people, really people in general.
"Promise me, or else." Casey let her words hang in the air.
Alison pondered over her choices carefully; actually mind her manners or face the unending wrath of Casey. She sighed through her nose before answering, "Fine."
Casey smiled triumphantly and went back to finish the task at hand.
Fifteen minutes later, the door to Casey's bedroom opened revealing Carson. He was wearing a tight T-shirt that showed off all his muscles. The girls were discussing Dawson, and Casey mentioned that he was going to ask her out at the movies, but Alison argued the point that she did not want a boyfriend. (She had never had one before and the whole idea of "dating" made her nervous.)
The girls didn't know that Carson was standing there until he said, "Hurry up! We have to get there before there are no seats left." He left then, slamming the door in his wake.
"What has his jock strap in a knot?" Alison asked curiously.
Casey just shrugged not knowing the answer herself. "Maybe he's PMSing."
The two girls laughed as Casey brushed out Alison's hair. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.
Alison didn't stop to glance in the mirror. Her mind buzzed with the thought of
The girls went down the stairs and into Carson's waiting car. He ran a hand through his shaggy white-blonde hair. "Well, let's go before we miss the movie!" he shouted to the girls who hurried down the front steps of Casey's house.
Carson drove to the theater, but there was no parking. He drove around the block, mumbling under his breath the entire time about girls taking forever to get ready. Alison listened to her iPod to block out Casey complaining that she had to pee, and Carson cursing at traffic.
After driving around the block four times, Carson finally found a parking spot. He got out of the car quickly and began to storm away. Alison caught up with him, and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.
"What's your problem?" Alison asked, gazing up at him, her eyes glinting in the sun. He had to fight the smile that threatened to spread across his face. She always had a blunt way of going about things.
He shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he answered, jerking his arm out of her grasp.
She quickly went to catch his arm again. Her eyes showed her confusion, her eyebrows drawn with the sense of trouble about. "Yes, it does Carson. Quit being such a girl, and tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing. I'm just tired." He jerked his arm away, and Alison didn't bother to try and grab it again.
If he's going to give me the cold sholder, I can play that card too, she thought. She turned her back to him. "Whatever."
Carson began to walk away. He cast a quick glance behind his shoulder to take in Alison. He sighed, not fully understanding the reason he acted like that either. He turned and continued heading towards the theater.
Casey bounded up to Alison and stood in front of her line of vision bouncing up and down. "Alison, can we find a bathroom first before my bladder explodes?" She then noticed her brother's absense and gave Alison a questioning look.
Allison sighed and shrugged, and then motioned for Casey to lead the way.
The pair wandered around searching for a shop that was open. Everybody's lights were off, doors locked, and shades down.
"This is so weird! It is a Friday night, not even ten o'clock yet, and everything is closed!"
"Why don't we just go back to the movie theater and you use the bathroom there as I suggested before?" Alison said, irritation clear in her words.
Casey looked at Alison. Before she said anything, she saw a light of a small shop on. "Look!" she shouted, pointing across the street, "maybe they have a bathroom."
Alison sighed. She narrowed her eyes to read the sign on the door. "Morgenstern's Family Bookstore. I guess it doesn't sound too flaky. Although this is a pretty shady part of town."
Casey was far from listening as she dragged Alison int the store. A little bell attatched to the door rung at their entrance.
The shop was relatively small, bookshelves neatly in rows behind the small front desk. The front of each row was labeled with its corresponding number in the Dewey Decimal system. One shelf 100's to 200's and so on. It also said what type of genre the numbers meant below. Large plush reading chairs were haphazardly scattered around the room. A warm light shone from overhead casting its hazy glow onto everything under it. Paintings were hung on the walls dipicting things from lover's kisses to gruesome war scenes. It still managed to give the shop a cozy homey feeling. The most noticable thing in the small store was the man behind the desk.
He couldn't be older than twenty-one. His face was, in simplest terms, shocking. He had a mop of curly dark brown hair, almost black, on the top of his head. His eyes seemed almost as black as his hair, it was slightly offputting. One couldn't tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. He emantated with a dark and attractive power, confidence flowing off of him in currents. He had glasses perched on his nose, and was reading an old and beaten hard back of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
When the bell chirped, he looked up from the book he was reading and smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth. "Hello," he said in a voice as soft as honey and as silky as velvet.
Alison cast her eyes downward, blushing madly from her earlier gawking.
"Hello. Can you help us? I am in need of a bathroom. Do you happen to have one?" Casey asked smiling like a vixen at the same. He returned her smile, it not quite reaching his eyes.
"Of course, but in return, you must give me the pleasure of knowing you lovely ladies' names. It would only be fair." His eyes twinkled.
Alison choked back a scoff at his suave attitude and wolfish smile cast in her general direction.
Casey smirked again, and Alison silently watched as she charmed the man. She wondered why Casey felt the need to seduce every man she laid her eyes on. Alison shifted her weight from foot to foot restlessly.
"I am much obligued, but only if you tell us your name first," Casey said, oozing confidence. Alison rolled her eyes at her friend's bravado. Alison tended to be the confident one, except when it came to members of the opposite sex. Casey possesed a gift Alison never understood.
The man sighed. "Well that would be very difficult. Names are such powerful things that shouldn't be thrown around lightly. For the most part, I am known as the Book Keeper."
This time Alison actually snorted at this, yet Casey seemed to accept his general answer.
"My name is Casey Domane, and this is my best friend, Alison Wysor. Funny story, she was named after her like great great grandmother who went absolutely crazy-"
Alison elbowed her in the side signaling that she had said more than enough.
The Keeper noddde his head smiling. His ebony eyes, which reminded Alison of a starless sky, focused on her, giving her the chills. "I take it your friend isn't the most shy of girls."
"Please. Outrageously outgoing is something of a second nature to her. Not even, it's first."
He studied her carefully. "Wysor you say? I would enjoy to hear the story of your great great grandmother. It sounds terribly interesting and I do love a good story." He snickered as if sharing a joke only he himself knew about.
Alison went to open my mouth, but Casey cleared her throat and began tapping her foot impatiently. "The bathroom?" she asked sharply, annoyed that their attention was not on her.
"Ah yes. My sincerest apologies. Right through the door in the back," he answered not moving his eyes from Alison.
Casey huffed and stormed out to the door. She opened it and stormed in. Instead of a bathroom, she found herself in a dark alley in between rows of buildings."Wait a minute. This isn't a-" She turned to catch the door which slammed shut. She pulled on the handle with no avail- it was locked fom the inside.
"What kind of trick is this? Open up!" She banged on the door with all her might, trying to get Alison's attention. Alison.
Panic struck Casey. Alison was alone in the store with the maddman who locked her out here! Casey slumped to the ground, fatigue suddenly enveloping her whole. she prayed that her friend would be okay.
She stood up suddenly, determined to rescue her friend. She began to walk down the dark alley and did not take notice to the dark shadows following her until it was too late.
Alison glanced over the man's shoulder and watched as her friend disappeared behind the door. He then moved into her line of sight and asked, "Well? Will you tell me the story?"
She shifted her weight attempting to lok over his shoulder but he mirrored her movement blocking her line of sight. She tried one last time to see if he was purposely doing it. He was.
She shook her head. Something was extremely wrong.
Alison took a step back. "Ah, I think I might wait outside for my friend, the heat in hear is rather stifling."
With lightning speed, the man's arm lashed out capturing Alison's wrist.
"I implore you, tell me the story and your friend might live."
Fear pounded in her veins. The man jerked her over to the large cushioned chairs, Alison stumbling from the sudden motion. He then shoved her down in one, and stood over her.
Alison cleared her throat, and pressed her trembling hands together, determinded to prove to this man that she was not afraid. "Well, the story has been passed down through the generations of my family. My great-great-great grandmother moved to a new town. she was curious and stupid, and did not listen to the warnings people gave her about the local bookstore. She entered and returned five days later saying she was trapped in a book. Nobody believed her and they all said she was crazy."
"So what happened to her?" he asked, his voice chilling Alison.
When she didn't immediately reply, he struck her cheek, the force nearly knocking her out of the chair. She gasped, but refused to acknoledge the stinging pain of her cheek.
"You need to be taught respect child, when I ask a question, you will learn to answer."
"What do you plan on doing to me?"
He didn't answer, but instead asked his question, his tone harder than before, the impending threat beneath it great.
"Her father married her off, the traiterous coward couldn't stand the ridicule and social ruin. She was later tried for witchcraft and burned at the stake."
He nodded and moved closer to her face, inspecting it carefully. He ran a hand along her jaw, and she turned her head defiantly. But she could not hide the chills his touch gave her.
He smirked, as if this action answered his question. He moved fluidly back to the desk. This man, this monster, grabbed the copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He rubbed the cover affectionately. "The only one to ever escape from me. And now, her grand-daughter is in my grasp." He looked back up at Alison and flitted before her, his hand wrapping around her throat. "You must be the one." He lifted her up in the air with inhuman strength.
He began chanting in a strange language under his breath, the words emenating a powerful darkness. A dark mist swirled around Alison as she gasped for air in his grip. The mist swirdled faster and faster, its freezing touch grazing her skin, covering her from head to toe in its icy blanket. Her body began to shimmer, as well as the open book in his other hand.
Alison screamed in pain, as the icy grip on her turned to flame. She felt like she was burning from the inside, her blood boiling, skin burning in the invisible flames. Tears streamed down her face as another ear-splitting scream wretched its way from her throat.
The shimmer that had once been her body was slowly sucked into the glowing book. The pain vanished, replaced with the feeling of falling. Alison opened her eyes as she seemed to fall down a hole into the ground. The bottom was quickly approaching, death waiting for her.
Something stopped her fall, catching her like an upward blown wind, and safely brought her to the ground.
A golden pocketwatch appeared in her in hand. She looked up, and saw the bookstore ceiling, seemingly translusent, as if it were a holograph. She realized what had happened to her; she was cursed into the book.
She looked up again, and saw the looming figure of the Keeper smirking down at her. He pointed to the pocketwatch. "You have a years time to prove yourself worthy to me. If you are victorious, I shall bring you back as my wife. If you don't..." His voice trailed off, the rest of his sentence clear: if she didn't succeed, she would be stuck in the book forever, or worse, dead.
"But what do I do to prove myself?" she shouted.
He ignored her question and continued talking. "I sincerely hope you live. I will check up on you from time to time to see if you are still alive. There is no escape. You will succeed, and you will be my wife. Tick tock tick tock my dear. I suggest you begin your search."
With that, the bookstore disappeared and was replaced with a crystalline blue sky.
A feeling of dread came over Alison as she stared at the pocket watch. She only had two weeks to discover the key to the Keeper's curse, and she had a feeling time was working against her. And she was very very late.