Page 12 of Dark Captivation

“Relax, Lady Sunny. You have nothing to worry about.” Senya took my hands from the doorknob, calmly leading me away from the candy house.

“Why aren’t we doing anything?” I insisted as she stroked my hand soothingly.

“That witch is actually quite friendly once you get to know her. The characters only last for a few hours. Characters must play their parts like actors in a movie. Regardless of their true personality, they have to play out the story. Nobody ever really gets hurt because no creation is inherently evil,” she explained.

“Okay, so the children aren’t in any danger, they're just acting out the story. Got it.” I nodded.

“Exactly. I’ve got something else to show you. This one’s a real crowd pleaser. The King of Jordan was here last month and he nearly fainted when he saw it.” Glee set fire to her eyes as she removed a copy of Moby Dick from the shelf marked, ‘Adventure.’

Instantly, the image of a whale the size of an SUV floated above us, as if he were drifting through water instead of air. The majestic, light gray creature demanded attention with his harmonious whale song.

It was truly a sight to behold as its smooth motions were like a dance, as it swam with the grace of a ballerina, leaving a trail of blue glitter fluttering behind its tail. I’d never seen a whale before, or any sea creature, except for fish. My eyes followed the beautiful creature until I could no longer see it behind the tall shelves in front of me.

“By the gods. I love this place. Can I live in here?” I said in an open-mouthed daze.

“I thought you said you’d only be here for two months.” Senya gave me the side eye.

“Maybe I can stay a little longer.” I took a step back, trying to see the whale again, not realizing how close I was to the shelf behind me.

I bumped a book loose and it fell to the floor, opening to page three. A picture of a dark ghoulish monster with charcoal black, red eyes that took up half his face was illustrated on the right page, story text on the left. The ghoul’s mouth gaped as if he were screaming and he threateningly held a rusty machete over his head.

“The boogie man.” Senya rushed over to me as fast as her glass heels would take her. “Maybe it’s best to put that one back.”

Miserable groaning flowed into the passage along with chilling gray mist.

The ghoul from the book stepped out from behind the shelf several feet away, entering the walkway. He stalked closer, dipping under his cloak he brandished a rusty machete, screaming like a banshee he made a mad dash for me and Senya, machete first.

Senya grabbed the book, dropping it in flight.

Mellow jolted awake as I went on high alert from the impending attack.

The cloak fell from his head, showing his jagged teeth that twisted and turned every-which-way. His smell preceded him, it was so foul it made my nostrils sting.

I snatched up the book, slamming it shut and swinging it back, preparing to clobber him with it.

The boogieman screamed louder as he crept and sped up to a dash. His machete sliced through the entire top row of the adventure section and the harrowing look on his face said he’d planned to do the same to me and Senya.

Senya snatched the book from my hands and quickly shoved it back into its place on the shelf.

The boogieman fell apart, disintegrating like powder in water. His dark ashes dusted the carpet.

Senya’s and my eyes met. Her face was covered in a layer of sweat.

“I thought you said that no creation was inherently evil.” My chest caved in.

“They aren’t, but some choose that path, nonetheless.” Her arms rose and fell in front of her in a sweeping gesture. “Most of the story characters aren’t like that, I promise you.”

This was all very interesting, but it was time I got back to business and did what I came here for. To do some research on Malek and figure out how to stop him from starting a war.

“So about the demon section,” I glared down at the ‘boogie dust’ then averted my gaze to Senya. “Do you have any books in here about the Demon God?”

“I thought you might ask. Follow me.” She gestured in front of her and leaped over the dust. I followed her as we delved past a few more shelves and into an open area with tables and chairs.

She stopped suddenly, and I almost ran into her back.

“All books related to our king are in the restricted section.” Her arm shot up 90 degrees at her side as she pointed to a door made mostly out of iron bars, several feet to her left.

With so many bars, you’d think that room was a prison cell. The biggest lock I’d ever seen sealed the heavy latch.

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