The Book (PM until opened)

[scribe_m]

The Book (PM)

Introduction

This thread spins off from the "The Screaming Tail Strip club Part II", as Casey and James find out what that **** book is about. **Likewise** it's a sequel of sorts to Time in the Library, long after all the participants have left, and briefly connected to Due Process.

The Screaming Tail Strip Club Part II
https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=362146&page=8&pp=41

Time in the Library
https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=364263&page=3&pp=30

Due Process
https://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=360279


Prologue

James was too late. He was **always** too late. The blood-red moon had shown this night, and god help if the book was freed. The book had been written into over time, its authors now ghosts, chained to this world, to fulfill the lusts and desires their lives were too short for. As he jimmied the window lock, he could barely see red eyes fade, and swore he could hear the moans of others being drawn into The Book. But as his flashlight shown around the darkened room, all he saw was The Book, plain and nondescript. Knowing otherwise, he took a book from his knapsack, and shoved The Book into its hollow pages. Wrapping it in leather binding, he had brought it to a club.

Only to lose it. James had also been investigating the burnt down old nightclub nearby to the The Screaming Tail Strip Club. But a mysterious woman named Sara thrwarted his plans to pursue further research. The nightclub was connected to city-wide corruption that spread to the police. But the papers James found linked the club said more...

*****

James felt like he looked. "Casey, these papers... they're part of a book I've been looking for." Pulling the text still binding The Book out of his knapsack, he said, "See this? I don't expect you to believe me, but I need to return this book before it's too late."

"That drawing? As far as I know, it's a woman who was nearly tortured to death by the Spanish Inquisition. I don't know if she's the author of part of the book, or a victim of it. For all I know, it could just be a story. But I found these papers in the basement of the old burnt down club and they must be put back into the book. We have to go back."

He intentionally neglected to mention the note Sara wrote. It said, "My poor foolish lover. The Book now lies in an alley. Will you retrieve it before I do? And if you do, will you be able to return it from where it was taken? Taking The Book solves nothing. It must stay there, undisturbed, so its authors remain trapped within in it. ps. You have a very lovely car and must return the book before the moon rises again."

"And... uh..." continued James, "I lost my car keys. The school library I have to return the book to is several hours away. Um... care to give a guy a lift?"

****

OOC: Notes

Well, if you made it this far, thanks. PM me if you're interested in joining. Contributors to this thread can play the released authors from The Book, and/or students and staff trapped in the library -- possessed or not! The thread will be opened once WDB and I get poor James and Casey in the library. Who's up for a rerun of the 1970's Kolchak the Night Stalker?


Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

Casey... taking a chance

James had shown up in the Screaming Tail, a regular customer with a quirky bookcase, a book that looked like it belonged in a glass case in a church somewhere in Eastern Europe, a tale about some library. He asked me to have breakfast with him after the club closed - I was bartending - and I had agreed. But on a break, not long after he left, I saw him and a woman in the alleyway behind the club. Engaged, so to speak. Then she took him across into what I'd thought was an abandoned warehouse. And on their singly-focused trek, pages fell out of his bookbag.

Curious, irritable that I was going to be stood up, and always a cop on some level of my soul, I went down the fire escape and retrieved the pages, but didn't even bother to look at them, too dark in the alley and too busy once I got back into the club.

Indeed, I went to the cafe where I'd agreed to meet him, had my breakfast and was about to pull out the pages to see what I'd picked up when he came rushing in the door, telling this incredible story about the book and some missing pages. He looked like he'd been rode hard and then ran for his life.

"Whoa, wait," I tried to interrupt him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He tried again to tell me about the book, the missing pages. I knew there was no way I could hold out on him that I had the pages, no matter how pissed I was at his little interlude.

And why did I care about it? He was a perfect stranger... I had no major attraction to him, no reason to give a damn who he was in the alley screwing against the brick wall...

I reached into my bag and pulled out the pages I'd rolled up. "So what are these," I said, pulling them out of his reach when he practically crawled over the table between us to get to them. "No..." I unrolled them, spreading them in one stack on the cheap red Formica table that had to be as old as I was.

And the top page was a drawing, a woman who had obviously been tortured. I was speechless, and finally he had my attention as he explained, all nonsense to me. It culminated with a desperate request for me to drive him somewhere I'd never heard of...

I looked back down at the pages. And I felt this strange sensation, a crushing headache, a flutter in my chest. I gasped, and then it was gone.

I paid for my breakfast, and he led me out the door, almost dragging me, and back down the street to my car.

 

[scribe_m]

Caseyy... look at that nice man next to you...

"Uh, yeah.... and?"

He's asleep while you drive... doesn't he look... nice?"

He snores.... But gee... he smells good...

Doesn't he... put your hand on top of his mouth and he'll be quiet.

"YAWN.... really need to pull over and close my eyes..."

Pull over...

"Need to keep driving... but... there's a rest stop..."

Good... shhhhh.... don't wake him up...

Park over there, near the trees...

Look at him.... mmm... did he say something?"

He's been mumbling since we left town... nonsense, all of it.

Shut off the car, casey...

Need to sleep....

No...

You want to touch him...

Just reach out to his thigh...

He won't wake up....

Mmmm, warm

Yes he is....

Smell the blood in his veins...

Unbuckle your seatbelt...

My eyes feel like they're getting heavy...

Thinking about coffee.... not coffee...

You can rest on his chest he won't mind...

Slip your hand into his shirt...

Warm...

His shirt's partially unbuttoned...

Fingertips against his skin.

Doesn't the hair of his chest feel good against your fingers?

Sharp inhalation of breath... what am I doing?

Shhh... relax. You can lay your head against his chest

Rest... need to rest.... no.... possess him, take him, devourhim

He will be easy, no?

Like a baby

Like a .... what?

Shhhhh, kiss him

Can you hear him? I think he's dreaming in his sleep about you....

You can be his dream, Casey... take him

Dream...dream

Touch his lips with your tongue

Mmmm... doesn't that taste good... you feel his breath escape... warm...

Rake your nails down his chest until he gasps...

Inhale... good.

Mmmm... yes....

Look at him... he wants ... you...

Dreaming... he's dreaming.... I'm.... dreaming...

Look.. he's squirming... moving... he wants you to touch him...

Fingertips over the bulge in his jeans...

You know you're wet, slick for him.

Open his jeans.

Hear him? he's moaning in his sleep...

Feel the heat from his hard cock...

Lifts the zipper tab with a fingernail...

Look... look... can you see? his bulge presses against his clothing underneat
his jeans....

Zipper moves slowly, tooth by tooth unlocking

Feel his cock rising as you release him...

Warmth.... lean down closer

Feel him... feel him with more than your fingers...

Fingertips touch the head as it is exposed from the denim

Lean down... take him.

Make him yours, Casey.

Taste him...

All you have to do is ....

Taste....?

Open your mouth...

Smell him...

Caress him with your lips.... let him feel your breath against the silky skin...


Wrap your lips around the head of his cock, Casey...

He's all yours...

All you have to do to make him ours is....

Ours?

We must have him, Casey...

Take him, Casey...

Take him? Drowsy... ours??

Yesss....

James?

He is fast asleep... but hear him moan softly...

I... sleepy... I....

CASEY

Make him yours, ours...

You must have him...

Feel his hard cock...

Wrap your fingers around him....

Touch your tongue to his first drop of precum...

Hear him groan, lightly, to your tongue on his cock...

He tastes so sweet on your lips....

Mmmm....

Open your mouth, take his cock inside, slowly...

Teasing it... tasting every inch...

Feel... feel how he moves for you.. his hips moving oh so slightly...

Take him deep, Casey...

Take his seed...

Feel the head of his cock in your mouth...

Deeeeeper...

Lick his shaft with your tonuge...

I didn't want to... no... James?

Fuck him, Casey.

Hear him moan... he wants you too, shy boy.

Maybe you should fuck him....you're all wet.

We should ...

Look how hard he's getting... so big.

Pull down your pants... ride him, Casey.

Drive his cock into you for ... us.

Must have him...

Hear.. hear how hard he's breathing already... take him.

Take off your pants, Casey.

I'm so wet...

Sliding them down.. hips, calves... dropping them in the floorboard...

Swinging your leg over his thighs.

Reach down and guide him into you.

Take him....

Touch his cock with your hand and put him inside you.

fuckhimfuckhim

Feel how hot his cock is.... how hot it will be inside you.

how hot his cum will be

takehimridehimfuckhim

Sliding him in... feeling the head stretch me...

You want him he wants you feesl good yesss...

Gasping...

His cock is buried in me...

Hear him call you louder in his sleep as you fuck him...

Leans forward and lightly kisses his cheek...

Rocking on him.

Driving him deeper.

Feeling him thrust.

Dreaming... he's dreaming...

Yes yes feel him fuck you.

Sweet wonderful dreams...

James whispers a name...

His hand moves to Casey's on his chest...

Hear him.... Casey.... he wants you to make him cum...

Feel him caress your breasts...

Feel him enlarge inside... close...

Feel his hands touch your hard nipples....

Fuck him harder casey... feel his hot cock inside your pussy...

Feel how close you are, Casey...

fuckhimfuckhimfuckhim

Kisses his lips, sucking, biting...

Hear him groan into you Casey...

He wants you so badly fuck him fuck him..

Feel him? he's close

Soooo close...

Oh yes... your hot juices melding with his cock...

yes... cum... cum...

Oh... feels soooo goood....

wild orgasm... clenching his cock...

He bucks and grinds, deeper still...

Yessss....Feel his hot come flooding you inside...

muffles the screams against his chest

His hips buckle as your walls clench his cock...

hot cum....

Hear him moan as he feels your orgasm on his cock...

Last ripples jerk through your body...

mmmm....

As he moves inside you...

mmmm... he's smiling... such a sweet man...

His arms wrap around her, holding a dream...

and again he whispers a name.... but it's not mine...

but I doesn't hear...

not over the wild beating of my heart... not consciously...



WindDancerBlue & Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

I remember driving, James falling asleep and mumbling things that made no sense to me.

I remember feeling sleepy, like there was no way I could stay awake and drive another four hours.

What I don't remember is how I ended up half undressed and astraddle an almost complete stranger in the front seat of my car, obviously having had sex.

My head ached, like I'd been nailed with a baseball bat, which is more or less what has stirred me to wakefullness.

James, much to my answered prayers, is still snoring softly, his arms loosely around my waist.

Cripe... there's no way I can move without waking him up.

The line keeps running through my head.... what were you thinking??
And in response, there's this laughter echoing that isn't my own.

I raise my head slightly, seeing that there is a bit of light in the sky. And there is a state police cruiser pulling into the rest area...

This isn't going to be good.

 

[scribe_m]

Johnson was a perfectly ordinary cop, who enjoyed long rides in the middle of nowhere on the interstate. His late night schedule let him put the kids to sleep, kiss his wife, and have a nice drive in the dark. The lights of the nearby city would come out and disappear the many hills of this stretch, and liked how he could see the stars -- real stars, not hidden by the pollution or night lights of the city.

Yolanda was a rookie who wanted to be anywhere but the dull boring patrol of a bunch of toilets and cranky people sleeping in cars. She had to start at the bottom, and the bottom it was. She was grateful, at least, that her plain nondescript partner neither annoyed her, nor attracted her. She snoozed as Johnson drove, a light sleep.

Tonight's sleep was a little restless. She dreamt of wearing fine black gowns, in a cold dark castle. The moon shown in the window of the stairwell and she could feel a hunger coming over her. Her loins stirred, and her throat began to dry as...

Johnson turned into the rest stop, waking up Yolanda from her sleep. She shook out the cobwebs from her head, and stepped out of the car.

Thirsty...

They knew the routine. Johnson held the flashlight to attract attention. Yolanda walked around the back towards the driver's seat. The flashlight had two settings, normal and high. Johnson walked towards the car, slowly, letting whatever teenage kids in the car finish up their business and leave.

But this time it was different.

"Miss, you're going to have to step out of the car."

Make up a lie...

"We've had men robbed by prostitutes here. They drug them while having sex, then steal their wallets. We at least have you on indecent exposure. Please come out of the car. Assume the position. If you're not carrying drugs, you have nothing to worry about."

OOC: Added Yolanda b/c driving alone at night, even as a cop, seemed dangerous. I'll play Yolanda's role for now, but her role is open, either to help Johnson with the search or find out what James has stashed in *his* pocket, lol.


Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

In the two minutes it had taken the patrol car to cruise in and its occupants to get out and send one other car screeching out of the parking area without even approaching it, I'd managed to crawl off James' lap and get my jeans on and almost buttoned.

James had only stirred slightly.

think of a lie...

As the pair approached, flashlights out, I realized this had gone from worst case to slightly better odds with a rather embarrassing side effect.

Brent Johnson. Six feet and four inches (and nine inches where it counted) was someone beyond just a professional acquaintance. We'd spent a few nights in each others' beds over the last few years, just for the great sex.

So being caught with my pants down by him wasn't the worst possible outcome here, depending on what James woke up and said, but I knew the prostitution BS was going to stop when Brent saw who I was.

The driver's door window rattled as he banged his flashlight on it. "Open the door and step out," he ordered again.

I did.

Large hands turned me against the car, patted me down. I guess it's a good thing I wasn't carrying my Glock... then came the handcuffs.

Before I knew what was happening, the young woman had opened James' door and was trying to question him, and Brent was dragging me toward the patrol car!

I didn't want to identify myself in front of the woman, someone I didn't know at all, until I had some sort of idea what was going through Brent's head. As he pulled me by the elbow across the parking lot, I tried to get his attention, but without looking he just hissed for me to shut up.

On the far side of the patrol car, he shoved me against the hood.

"Brent -" I tried again.

"Just shut the fuck up, McCabe," he said, trying to keep the irritation in his voice from becoming volume. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

I rolled my eyes. "What did it look like I was doing, BJ?"

God, he hated being called that.

He took a step toward me. "Look, I know things haven't been going well for you since you left the department, but I don't think you realize what sort of danger you may be in coming back here," he whispered. "And by the way, I've missed you."

"Surely your bed hasn't been empty the whole time I was gone," I retorted.

"It's just hard to find someone as good as you to fuck, Casey," he said, jerking me around and unlocking the cuffs, pressing me against the car from behind. "If I didn't have that damned rookie with me..."

"Save it, Brent."

I looked over my shoulder to see that James had gotten out of the car, but he looked startled, confused.

"Gee, honey, he doesn't look like he enjoyed it all that much," he whispered into my ear.

I ignored him, although I could feel his cock against my ass. Even soft, it was still thick and prominent under his uniform pants.

"He said she's not a hooker," the female yelled across the parking lot. "Let her go."

"Damn, and I was looking forward to a strip search," he said, patting my butt and stepping away. "I didn't find your gun, McCabe, but I'd recommend you put it on. Copy?"

His blue eyes were dead serious.

I only nodded and started toward my car, rubbing my wrists.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

I walked back to my car, giving the female trooper plenty of room as she went to the rear of the vehicle and I went forward. Brent Johnson had simply waved her back and gotten into the patrol car.

James was standing by the passenger door, still looking a little drunk or nearing hung-over, but definitely dazed and confused.

“What was that all about?” he asked as the cruiser drove off into the dawn.

“Anyone ever tell you that you sleep like the dead?” I murmured, getting into the driver’s seat.

He opened the passenger door and sat down but didn’t close the door. “No. I don’t sleep like that. I wake at every creak of the house, scratch of a limb on the roof, passing car… I’m surprised I even dozed off, which makes me ask again. What happened?”

I turned and stared out the window, wondering how to answer. I suppose I could lie, but when would he get around to asking why the cops were asking if I were a prostitute, why his underwear was all sticky and his pants unzipped. I couldn’t think of anything that would fly.

“We, um… I…” Oh for crying out loud! “I think I had sex with you while you were asleep.”

His mouth opened, with words rushing to get out so fast they must have all collided somewhere in his brain and locked up. Only a squeaky sound escaped.

I decided to press on to something more rational. “The trooper is someone I know… intimately. He wasn’t very… amused, shall we say… to find me half-naked in a roadside rest area.” My cheeks suddenly burned with the embarrassment of being caught by someone I’d be more than happy to have crawled into bed with still.

Bed? Hell, I’d have dropped my pants and ….

STOP IT! I told myself.

“We need to keep going,” James finally said. No more questions.

I guess he didn’t like the answers to the first one he asked. I’m not sure I blamed him.



We rode on in silence. I’d just had some bizarre sexual encounter with a stranger, someone I’d had no physical or emotional attraction to at all…

Oh, give me a break, McCabe, so why were you so jacked up about him screwing the woman in the alley?

Another part of my brain took another stream of thought: Why would you screw a guy who was damned near unconscious?

I didn’t like either question, so I went to the left side of my brain to look for better memories to mentally fondle as I drove, happy there was no further conversation.

Brent Johnson. Mr.BJ himself. I don’t think I’ve ever met another man who SO enjoyed having his cock in someone’s mouth. In bed, in the shower, in the car. Even days, odd days, weekdays that end in Y. You name it, he was up for it.

Up and hard like a damned rock. Some guys that big don’t get all that hard, but I’m not sure Brent couldn’t use his for a hammer when he was really hot. He was a big guy all over, tall, broad shouldered, big hands… He loved bending a woman over the desk, the footboard of his bed, or the hood of his car, and practically lifting her off her feet with each thrust. Up against a wall, he could hold a woman for a half hour without breaking a sweat and …

Damn, that was working a little TOO well to keep my mind off the road, I decided as my heart began to speed up to match the speedometer. I eased off the gas pedal.

I looked back over at James… I didn’t get the impression he was fantasizing about the female trooper… but he did look like he was fantasizing.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

Talking ...

about anything but sex. I could see where this was going.

I'd asked him to help me pull off my sweatshirt as the sun crested the horizon. He had the head turned up, and I was too warm.

"So, I was going to ask you about the scars at breakfast," he said, hesitating.

I can't help it, the first moments I think about them, I get this shiver...

"I... um..."

"I mean, you don't have to talk about it..." he tried to backtrack, thinking he'd hit another uncomfortable subject.

"No, it's not that. You see one or two," I said, nodding to the one just to the back of my shoulder, showing beyond the strap of my tanktop. That one was J-shaped. It was the first one most people saw. Usually it was the last one people saw. "There's a much larger collection, thanks to a couple of guys I failed to shoot before asking questions."

I reached down and pulled up the side of my t-shirt from my jeans, exposing a red scar about six inches long, an arc across just at the bottom of my ribs.

"That's why you won't dance anymore," he said, not asking.

I nodded.

"And your friend back there... what does he think about the scars?"

"Johnson? He's the one who saved my life, so he saw them fresh. I never got the impression from him he gave them another thought."

"In bed?" James persisted.

"Yes, in bed," I said, testily.

He turned and looked back out the window at the passing fence posts, telephone poles, trees, the occasional house. I don't think he was aware he did it or that I could see, but I saw his head nod slightly, as if he'd made up his mind about something.

 

[scribe_m]

Casey had volunteered her secret. It was time for James to do the same.

"If you woke up in any way that I did, I owe you an explanation. Unfortunately, there's not much I can give. This book was written a centuries ago, by several hands. The odd part is that some of it's in old English, another is in Latin, some is in Chinese, and I can't identify the rest."

"And the pictures?"

"I'm not sure."

"Why is the owner of the burnt down club in the book? Don't tell me she wrote a chapter when she didn't have somebody to fuck a century ago."

"Maybe. Do you want to know?"

Casey paused. "No, I suppose not now. I'm more interested in a good shower and catching up on sleep. How well did you sleep last night?"

"Well. I woke up tired and exhausted."

"The good kind of tired and exhausted, I suppose," Casey said, hinting a smile.

They continued driving, pulling into the motel.



Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

"One room or two?" I asked, thinking we'd already been rather intimate to fake being shy now. I was strictly thinking of cash, which I'd begun to run low on these days without a job.

"One is fine with me if it's okay with you," he said, and offered to pay, either way.

"Well, you don't snore very loud," I commented with a smile.

He got out of the car and went into the office to register. I stood outside the car and stretched until he came out with a key and pointed down the length of a building older than both of us. I pulled the car down, but he chose to walk and pick up some ice and drinks along the way.

I had no bag except my sorta purse thing I carried. Functional, not feminine. I thought about Brent Johnson's advice regarding my gun, and I slipped it out and into the waistband of my jeans in the back before I got out.

James had left the door open for me but had gone on into the bathroom. I heard him washing his face.

Speaking of washing, I thought, without a change of clothes, I'd need to wash out my now-sticky underwear. Criminy....

And just how did all that happen? I wondered again, as I had for the last several hours driving, without answers from my own deductions or James' attempts at explanation. Surely he didn't mean the incident was really related to the book somehow.

I yawned again.

James came out of the bathroom with his shirt untucked.

"All yours," he said.

I nodded and went inside, stripped off my shoes, socks, jeans, underwear, shirt and bra. I filled the sink with hot water and washed out my panties, wrung them out and hung them on the rack. Then I turned on the shower and let the water warm up before I stepped in.

It felt wonderful... I turned it a tad hotter as my skin adjusted to the temperature. Nothing like unlimited hot water at a hotel... Nothing at all.

I peeled the paper from that microscopic rectangle they call soap, lathered a washrag and scrubbed from my forehead down. Finally, I was clean and warm, feeling sleepy again. I leaned both forearms against the wall and let the water cascade down my back.

I thought I felt the air move, but the fabric curtain did not rustle, so I paid no mind... until I felt hands touch my back.... softly, delicate, much like the water sliding down my skin...

I wanted to turn and see.

See what? If it was James? Or if it was not...?

But my mind seemed to clog up like a drain, my body turned to stone and immovable. I could FEEL but I could not respond.

Voices, almost like my own, whispered in my head. Soothing me, encouraging me. My hand drifted down my body, over my throat, over my breasts with gentle pressure as my fingers soft kneaded one then the other, then down my belly to the hair between my legs.

Hands not my own joined, rubbing, teasing...

Fingers... maybe my own, I couldn't tell, slid into my wet folds...

It took all the mental strength I could muster to jerk around and scream, STOP IT!!

And to find I was alone.


Until the door slammed open and James yanked back the curtain to see what was wrong.

 

[scribe_m]

I was waiting for my turn to get the grime, sticky mess, and god knows what off my body. But being a courteous man, I had Casey take her shower first. Of course, the idea of taking a shower in the same tub as a woman turned me on as well. In any case, I rested on the bed waiting my turn, thankful that I was lying down on something that would let me lie down.

Suddenly, I heard a scream. A scream I could never imagine coming from this woman. I tore open the curtain and there she was, shaking, staring at me, oblivious to the water raining upon her body. She reached for me and I held her, my clothes becoming wet with the water from the showerhead. She eventually calmed down. I put a towel around her, and walked her to the bed to rest.

As the water of the bath drew around me, I tried to relax within it. It was probably foolish to risk what happened to her to happen to me, but I was so dirty and sweaty, I didn't care. I kept thinking of what happened in the car, an awful blur... well, quite pleasurable anyway. I idly touched myself in the water, and grew hard a bit. The one-eyed monster looked back at me, and I knew what to do.

The clothes could wait until tomorrow. I tossed them into the tub -- anything would be an improvement. I wrapped a towel around me and headed to bed. I thought we had double beds, but I was wrong. Her front was towards me, so I tried sleeping my back towards her. I was hoping tomorrow we would start driving, to get rid of that damned awful book.



Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

James had been shocked, whether from the scream, the bare skin, or maybe the near falling-apart I'd suffered in the shower.

Whatever this was involving the book, it was powerful, if not evil.

He'd tucked me into the bleach-smelling motel sheets and gone back to shower himself, leaving me to think about what had happened to me, twice in the last few hours. It was mind-blowing to think one could lose that much control and awareness over one's body...

I'd drifted to sleep, numb and exhausted.

It had occurred to me there was just one bed when we came in, but it didn't bother me. How much more intimate could two bodies get?

I felt him get into bed some time later. Minutes, an hour? I didn't know or care. I just needed to sleep.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

OOC:
Name: Ariadne Taylor
Age: 35
Ht: 5'6"
Wt: 119 lbs
Hair: Shoulder length chestnut hair, already greying here and there.
Eyes: Blue-green
Profession: Professor of Literature and Caretaker, Rare Books Collection, Miskatonic Unversity, Arkham Massachusetts. Also, owner and operator Labyrinth Books.

IC:

I stretched and yawned. This was tedious work, even if I did enjoy books.

Arkham University Press had decided I was the ideal editor for the new edition of John Roos' Monsters and their Kynde, based on one of the manuscript copies in our Rare Book collection. So, I was painstakingly comparing the manuscript, in its crabbed handwriting, and our printed edition to make sure it was a precise duplicate.

My cell phone rang.

"Ariadne. Yes. Sure I can. About 10 minutes. No problem, that's why I am keeping the store open. Thank you, I'll make sure I tell him!"

Eric was the manager of Labyrinth Books. He was my only real employee, and a decent sort. Mr. Jones, the man on the phone, had a strange manuscript in an equally strange script, and Eric had suggested he call me so I could swing by and look at it. I was happy to do it. I loved books, especially strange, old books like that. In fact, the Necronomicon and its like were part of what drew me to Miskatonic U. in the first place. Imagine my delight, last year, when I not only got tenure, but got the caretaker's position as well!

I blinked, set the books aside, and went out to look at Mr. Jones' strange book.

(OOC Note: Thanks Scribe_M for letting me in! I am sure one of you two can find a business card that prompts you to call me regarding your Book. )

 

[scribe_m]

"Yes, well... I think it would work. No... I'm fully aware of what could occur. It happened to a library full of students, and it happened to my friend twice! I'm pretty sure I'm being affected as well. No, I don't want to give you proof." Casey briefly opened her sleepy eyes to see James sitting on the the other double bed, hanging up the phone. "I'm sorry, Casey. Slight change in plans. The library was the location where we could have sealed away the book. Massachusetts is where we're going to destroy it."

OOC: Er... let's say we're not *that* far from MA, lol.


Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

"Massachusetts?" I echoed in disbelief. "You expect me to drive you all the way to Massachusetts?? How 'bout we just build a damned bonfire and get rid of it here?" I said, starting to stand up, then realizing I was still naked beneath the sheets, then figured no one here would care.

"Casey, it's really critical that we - "

"We? How is it that I became involved in this little game of yours, huh? You walk into a strip club where I'm tending bar, have a drink, hit on me for breakfast, then you expect me to believe any of this hooplah about a book older than ..." I stormed past him into the bathroom and splashed water on my face.

He was still waiting when I finally came out, wrapped in a towel.

"Look, if it's the money, I can pay. I'll make it up to you."

"If you have money, go buy a car and go to Massachusetts yourself," I growled.

"It's not about me anymore, Casey. The forces that use this book have involved you. What happened in the car, that wasn't something you did, or that I did. I don't know what it was, but it's able to use you - mentally and physically. There is something in your past that makes you vulnerable to its powers, maybe. If I leave you here, they will just continue to torment you until you think you've gone mad."

"Oh now that wouldn't take very long, so what fun would it be," I demanded, but the anger was waning.

"This woman in Massachusetts can help, both of us, I think. It's only about ten more hours. If we leave now - "

I threw up my hands in surrender. "Fine. Get dressed then."

 

[scribe_m]

Ten... hours....

The car pulls up to the bookstore. My travelling companion doesn't deserve this fate, but I hope I'm doing more than dragging another innocent victim down with me.

"Professor?"

Ten hours of driving hardly makes us good guests. We're hot, we're thirsty, and we're dead tired. But this book drives us here, hopefully on our terms, not its. I haven't seen Professor Taylor in years, but here she is, just as lovely as ever. I make a joke to myself that her greying temples proves she hasn't met a vampire or demon promising eternal youth.

"Professor Taylor, it's been years. You're looking as beautiful as ever, and I probably haven't changed my coat since then. This is my friend, Casey. She helped break up a corruption ring that went from a nightclub all the way up the police force. The nightclub's been burnt down, and you'd think that was the end of it, except for this book. The nightclub's only a small chapter of this book and I don't know it's role in the case. I do know there's a picture in here of someone who looks *too much* like some woman Casey owned or something at the nightclub."

"The pictures in this book are somehow related to what's written in the book. I only know it claimed a roomful of school kids before I found it and took it. I then went to that nightclub and found a chapter of the book, but, for the life of me, I can't translate it. I honestly can't translate much of the book. It's written in Latin, Chinese, and pig latin for all I know. I hope you can help us, Ariadne."

OOC: Val, you can tell more about the police ring and nightclub Casey broke up, including your cop partner.


Scribe.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

"Professor?"

"James. Good to see you again. Introduce me to your friend."

"Professor Taylor, it's been years. You're looking as beautiful as ever, and I probably haven't changed my coat since then. This is my friend, Casey. She helped break up a corruption ring that went from a nightclub all the way up the police force. The nightclub's been burnt down, and you'd think that was the end of it, except for this book. The nightclub's only a small chapter of this book and I don't know it's role in the case. I do know there's a picture in here of someone who looks *too much* like some woman Casey owned or something at the nightclub."

"Interesting. I don't fully understand. What do you need me to look at? I specialize in ancient texts."

"The pictures in this book are somehow related to what's written in the book. I only know it claimed a roomful of school kids before I found it and took it. I then went to that nightclub and found a chapter of the book, but, for the life of me, I can't translate it. I honestly can't translate much of the book. It's written in Latin, Chinese, and pig latin for all I know. I hope you can help us, Ariadne."

"I hope so too. I can't say as how I understand. Look, you are both blasted. Fortunately, this isn't just a store. Come in. This used to be a house, so there are full facilities in the back. Need to shower? It's free. There's a stocked larder and full kitchen. Oh, and I keep a bedroom made up here too for late nights.
"Welcome to Arkham, Massachusetts. If you like, I can take you on a tour tomorrow day. For tonight, get some sleep."

 

[WindDancerBlue]

While the ten hours had become about fourteen, thanks to some nasty multi-car accident on the highway, locking up traffic for miles and hours, we'd met up with Ms. Ariadne Taylor in Labyrinth Books, in Massachusetts. She was indeed a beautiful woman, as James had mentioned. Repeatedly.

She'd dismissed his attempts to get on with the task on his mind, but she did listen to the brief description of the corruption I'd been part of shutting down in Toronto. From ranking officers in the police department to city businessmen in legitimate and lesser establishments, mostly one man who'd owned a competing strip club. While I'd had no part in the arrests, having been faced with an assailant within my own home and near-fatal injury of the young man with me. But I'd heard rumors about the deaths in the abandoned club a block from The Screaming Tail.

"What's that got to do with the book?" she asked rhetorically, leading the two of us to another single bed.

I looked at James with a raised eyebrow as she dismissed us and closed the door behind her.

"I'll keep my hands to myself," he promised. "Maybe you can do the same..." he winked.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

I sat in the main room of the book-store. It was closed for the night, and Eric had gone home. My laptop was set up and in a dock so it wouldn't die on me.

I was checking the internet for references for such a book. I had been in Arkham long enough to know that Urban Legends often contained seeds of Hidden Truths.

The book itself looked fairly normal. Quatro volume, leather bound. Recently rebound. Not well made. Very little obvious value except insofar as it was rare.

The leather binding made it appear to be roughly 18th century, but as I noted, the rebinding only goes back about 50 years.

The paper of the book appears to be from the 18th century. The text itself is a mystery. Latin, Greek, Runic, Chinese, and unidentifyable characters are all used. Some entries appear hand-written. Some, printed with moveable-type. Others, appear to have been printed using modern publishing techniques.

I sigh, and blink. I am worn out myself, and this book represents the greatest mystery I have ever seen. Put simply, it is an impossibility. The most recent entries appear to have been printed no more than a year ago. But the binding goes back 50 years, and those two facts are mutually exclusive ... yet both are absolutely true and incontrovertable.

I close down my computer.

"James. Casey. I am going home now, unless you need something. You'll be safe enough as long as you don't go up front to the store. The Book will be safe as any of the other books are."

I wait to see if they would have any requests or questions before leaving and setting the alarm in the store proper.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

We both thanked her for her hospitality and the brief news she'd brought back before she left for the night.

It was Greek to me, pardon the pun, though I was too tired to care.

She'd been quite different than I'd expected for an expert in ancient texts. I'd anticipated a white-headed, crotchety old woman for some reason. Something very ... unsettled though in the way I felt about her presence. I wasn't uncomfortable, just... (yawn, stretching out on the bed beside James once again, this time dry and somewhat more dressed than before) oh, it didn't matter. It was all way to weird.

involving me... I was thinking as sleep dragged me from consciousness. what could this all have to do with me?

 

[scribe_m]

The most recent entries appear to have been printed no more than a year ago. But the binding goes back 50 years, and those two facts are mutually exclusive ... yet both are absolutely true and incontrovertable.

That's the problem with explanations. What if they themselves can't be explained? Why would someone working at a nightclub end up in an ancient text? And was bringing The Book here. Was that still a good idea? My partner slept soundly. Rather amazing thing to do considering.

You'll be safe enough as long as you don't go up front to the store.

Good enough advice for me. If I had my way, I'd never leave this bed. If I had my way even more, I wouldn't be just sleeping in this bed. Naturally, nothing goes my way, as I heard a shuffling and thumping downstairs. Towards the front of the store. Not interested in being murdered asleep, I went for the waking route. I crept downstairs and picked up a cast iron skillet. Pity the professor wasn't Chinese, or I would have looked for some wooden chopsticks.


OOC: Hmm. I'm thinking the thread can be opened, now that we're at a location with students, faculty, and other... entities...


Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

Sleep hit me hard, though I had no idea why. I could only hope that I'd stay that way and on my own side of the bed, though a passing thought throughout the day of trying out our little experience of our own accord had crossed my mind.

I wasn't sure why. He wasn't gorgeous, but nice enough looking. He did smell good.

Some time later, I heard him moving around the suite, restless. Scared?

I turned and raised up on one elbow to see him pacing around. "What are you doing with that skillet, James?" I said, trying hard not to laugh. "From what you're telling me, four pounds of cast iron is going to be no more effective than the high velocity brass jacketed hollowpoints in my gun," I said.

That raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged it off. He knew I'd been a cop.

I'd taken Brent's advice, packing it closer than normal. It was currently tucked just under the mattress on my side of the bed.

He turned and looked back at me, then down at the skillet. "Can't sleep," he said, sheepishly.

"Ahhh," I said, noting a little bulge in his jeans that hadn't been there since... um, well, since last time we.... uh, yeah....

"Come back to bed," I said, turning down the covers on his side. "We're as safe as we'd be anywhere else."

 

[shadowoftheheart]

I slept for a few minutes at a time that night, tossing and turning and seeing in my dreams the Book, opening of its own accord, and shuddered in horror as I saw an Arm reach out of the book, with its eight fingers writhing and twisting, seeking something to latch upon.

I did not want to, I did not mean to, but each time I offered my body to the hand. I was enveloped with the tentacle, like digits, which snaked around my body, slipping into my mouth, my ass, my pussy, violating me with sharp, merciless motions that left me writhing helplessly in pain/pleasure ....

And it was then, as I felt the pain and pleasure rise up in the Core of my Soul that I snapped awake. Three times this happened.

Shuddering, gasping, I padded naked to the kitchen, where I poured myself a shot of Jack Daniels, and slugged it down without a chaser.

I sighed, and padded to my living room. I lived alone in an old house in the residential district of Arkham. It was a two-story building kept in pristine order and listed on the National Registry of Historic Homes. It was a pleasant and peaceful house, filled with a century of positive vibrations, in stark contrast with the neighboring Witch House and other houses around town that held that legendary New England miasma of evil. I had been fortunate, or perhaps more than fortunate. Often I had the feeling of being watched, but the sense of a protective, guarding Essence behind the gaze. I felt it now, tinged with a regretful sense of arousal that could never be fulfilled. I sighed, fearing that I was projecting my own doubts, my own feelings about ... long-forgotten friends that I knew I would never come to know as deeply as I wished. I started my DVD player and collapsed onto the couch.

Casablanca was strangely soothing to me tonight, and I was lulled by Bogart's quiet dominance into a peaceul sleep free of nightmare.

 

[scribe_m]

I looked down at my foolish weapon and it reminded of how I handled all this: large, unwieldy, and totally incapable. At first, I was going to hide the book. Hide. That was my reaction to everything, wasn't it? I didn't feel safe, but I felt safe *with her* -- her and her hollow-tipped bullets, at least. And I think we were both going to feel safe when that book would be destroyed. I guess this is what it felt like to have a purpose in life.

I set aside the pan and took off my jeans. I climbed into bed next to my partner. "You know, Casey, I never had a chance to thank you. Sorry for dragging you into this, and thanks for being with me." I gave her a light kiss, felt her warmth, and fell asleep.


Scribe.

 

[WindDancerBlue]

I fluffed an expensive pillow beneath my head to just the right shape, rolled my eyes and made some dismissive sound as I settled in with my back to him. "You can thank me when it's all done. Till then, I'll run a tab. I may be easy, but I'm not cheap."

James made no verbal response, but I had felt the tension relax a bit in his body as it settled into the mattress and he finally fell asleep.

On the other hand, I was very awake and aware of the warm body just inches away.

And aware of things I couldn't explain hovering just beyond my reach, my sight, and my understanding.

It was a very long night....