by Gina LaManna
I wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan either."
We both took a deep breath, as well as another sip of the leftover wine Donna had poured into a small flask that read Bachelorette in sparkly pink letters on the outside, and gathered up our courage to go inside. Once we stepped out of the car, the chilly night breeze blew leaves between our legs, scratching goose bumps on our skin as they whistled by. It was Halloween weather: trees creaking in the dark evening, black shadows snaking along the edges of the alley, and the promise of an adventure on the other side of the large, mahogany door we stood before.
The door itself was not as plain as it'd looked from the car. Ornate carvings laced the edges, and there were no fewer than nineteen knobs on the outside. Placed in all locations, made of all different materials and all different sizes, it was my best guess which one would get us inside. If any.
"That is one way to make a door more difficult than necessary," Donna said.
"Are they trying to confuse people or keep them out?" I wondered. "Should I turn one?"
Donna shrugged. "Beats me. I'm not into this comic book thing. I saw one of the Spider-Man movies one time."
"More than me. I was a Barbie sorta girl."
"Try one of the doorknobs."
"Why me?" I asked, sizing up too many options.
Donna glared at me.
"Fine. As long as you stay right by me…" I reached out a hand and twisted the knob closest to where a normal door handle would be. A slight zap shocked my fingers, and I leapt backward as if my hand had blown up in flames. My heart pounded, and adrenaline coursed through my veins. I reached out for Donna just as the door swung open from the inside.
I glanced around for my friend, even reaching a hand back to grasp her arm for support, but I snatched nothing but air.
"Donna?" I hissed.
There was a movement behind the trash can next to the door, and I caught a glimpse of Donna's bob behind the lid.
"Donna, get up here." I kept my voice low.
Donna's head emerged hesitantly from behind the bin. I redirected my attention to the doorway, which had opened into a black hole. The door seemed like it'd been opened from a hinge by an invisible hand, but there was no sign of life inside. I couldn't see past the blackness that began an arm's length inside the door and stretched to an infinity. There was no sound except for the shift of Donna rejoining my side.
"Did you see who opened the door?" she asked.
"No," I whispered. "It just kind of popped open. But the handle zapped me."
I shook my hand as if I'd been burned, and Donna reached down to examine it. Apparently she decided I wasn't hurt, because she shook her head and peered into the empty doorway. "This is so freakin' creepy. Should we go in?"
I shrugged, trying not to show my fear despite the creepy crawlies both inside and outside of my body. My skin tingled with anticipation while my guts, currently filled with licorice and lasagna, told me to turn around, go home, and digest in peace.
"I guess we have to." I poked the thick mahogany between the handles, and it swung open a bit more. "It's technically an open door."
"Consider ourselves invited." Donna put one arm around my shoulder, and I welcomed the touch. "You first."
I welcomed the touch a bit less as she gave me a small shove forward, put both her hands around my waist, and cowered behind me as I staggered into the building. We probably looked like a pair of teenagers entering the haunted house at the Minnesota State Fair.
"Oh no. Wall." I crashed into a sturdy piece of cement, which was painted black. In fact, the entrance only appeared to be a black hole, because there was a divider about two feet past the door that filtered us into a tunnel. We could go left or right, but both sides led to dimly lit, small openings that didn't particularly look promising.
"A few signs wouldn't hurt around here," Donna said, straightening up and brushing off her jeans. "A simple arrow or a welcome mat would go a long way."
I gave her a mini-glare as she pretended to be completely nonchalant about pushing me into a dark, scary building and following me at a distance.
"What?" she asked. "I didn't have to come with you."
"That's true," I said, grudgingly. "I appreciate it. I didn't say thank you yet, and I should have."
"Let's get a move on." Donna patted me on the back with a smile. "For Jax's sake. I think he's probably more scared than we are, watching the kids."
"Left or right?"
"Uh…I'll follow you."
I glanced in both directions, went with my gut, and turned left. We followed the dark corridor to the dim light at the end of the tunnel, keeping an eye out for moving shadows, ghosts, and spiders. When we reached the entrance, which was a narrow opening between the two black walls on either side, we paused next to each other.
"Well, this didn't work out." Donna pointed to a sign above the doorway.
Employees Only.
All Regular Folk Forbidden.
"Are we really regular folk, though?" I asked.
Donna gave me a crooked eyebrow. "Let's try the other side. Just so happens, turns out your gut feeling was wrong."
"It usually is." I sighed. "Its judgment was clouded by an overload of sugar and caffeine. And a bit of wine."
"That'll do it," Donna said. "Can't make clear judgments on a crappy stomach."
"I didn't say crappy. It's quite pleasurable, in fact."
"Yeah, yeah, your sweetness, this way." Donna led the way back down the hall, pausing so that I could go first once we got to the actual entrance. This doorway was a mirror image of the other, except the sign above said Regular Patrons.
"Regular, schmegular," I huffed. "These guys sure know how to make their customers feel welcome."
"Regular probably has a different meaning at a place like this. I'm not sure their normal is quite the same as ours."
I gave Donna a nod of agreement, inhaled a large breath of fresh air, and took a step forward. Donna hesitated, and I attached myself to her wrist, dragging her in behind me. It was a little cold, sure, but I figured we had better chances going as a team.
Safety in numbers, right?
Hopefully two was a big enough number to make a difference.
We stepped around the corner into the mystery room on the other side of the entryway, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the creepy level wasn't as high as I expected. There had been a small chance someone would be harvesting organs on the other side of the doorway, and I was glad that it didn't seem like the type of place where they'd steal a kidney. At least not in plain sight.
"Who opened the door?" Donna whispered. "We still haven't seen anyone yet."
"Maybe they have a security camera around back. Could be remote control or something. Seems like the type of place they'd get a kick out of playing a little joke on their customers. I mean, the door had about forty knobs on it."
Donna wrinkled her nose. "True. I'm still just a little bit weirded out. Although, it doesn't feel quite as scary now that we're inside."
"I agree. Let's take advantage of the quiet. Maybe if we walk around for a bit, someone will come out and ask us if we need help."
"But do we want anyone asking us if we need help?'
I shrugged. Not particularly. "We can't ask these books if they've seen Anthony Jenkins. But we could ask a real person."
I gestured toward the rows and rows of books lining the outskirts of the room. It was a decent-sized space, but not huge. It resembled how I imagined a library would look in a private home. The books, however, were thin and brightly colored, their edges crinkly with natural wear and tear. There was a slight musty scent to the room, much like the whiff of well-loved paper one gets when cracking open an old library book that hasn't been touched for ages.
A slight dust coating lined the edges of the shelves, but the place was clearly kept in pristine order. Each and every book was immaculately in place. There were no books lying on the desk in the center of the room, no chairs helter-s
kelter, and the sliding ladder attached to the bookshelf was firmly pushed against the side.
"Wow, this place is sort of cool." I ran my fingers along the edges of the books, browsing for one I may have been familiar with. Or at least heard of. As I said, I was more of a Barbie girl, not the comic type.
"It almost makes me wish I liked to read." Donna gestured to a glass case, which held the Ultimate Spider-Man #1 for me to see. "Even you know this one."
"Spider-Man! I've heard of him." I sidled over to Donna. "Maybe I'll pick it up for Harmony. She's not into Barbie—she's a strong, independent woman. She'll appreciate an action book over a doll any day."
"You won't be picking this up for her," Donna said, her eyes wide.
"Why not? She should be encouraged to stimulate whichever part of her brain she—"
"It's like, two hundred dollars."
"She's getting a Barbie," I said, changing my mind at the mention of the price tag.
"Step away from the case." A soft, velvety voice slithered throughout the room.
Donna started, taking a step back.
"Back away…slowly." The voice was hardly welcoming, but it wasn't exactly a threat either. Donna stepped back, moving with careful motions so as not to upset the faceless voice coming from the entryway.
The figure wore a thick purple robe that brushed the tops of his shoes as he swayed in place, his face a black hole underneath a hood studded with shimmering crystals. His hands were perched before him, white and scaly in the dim light. The place went from mildly cozy to downright scary in two seconds flat.
I stepped closer to Donna. "Sorry, we were just—"
"Eh, eh, eh…what brings thou here?" The figure waved a hand in our direction.
"We were just browsing…" I gestured at the shelves surrounding us. "All these amazing books. I was looking for a gift for my younger sister."
"Why art thou really here?" he asked again.
He moved so little, I wondered if the man was fully alive. I couldn't sit so still, even if I was in a straitjacket.
"To buy a present—" I began again.
"Lies." The man said.
I put a hand on my hip. I was kind of up to my limit with his attitude. "Well, then. Are you a mind reader? Because how do you know I'm not here to buy a book for my sister?"
Donna's mouth fell open.
I'm sorry, I mouthed to her.
"I know, because you're not one of the Society. I'm familiar with every individual who appreciates these sacred treasures in our town," he said.
I glanced around at the books, the treasures.
"Also, nobody who knows anything about these treasures would call them books. Or handle them so carelessly." The man stepped forward and lowered his hood. He cast a disgusted look at Donna.
Donna glanced in my direction, but I was much too distracted by the sight of the man standing before me. Not only did I know him, but I was pretty sure everyone in the town knew him as well.
"Father Olaf?" I asked.
The priest looked mildly annoyed. But even if I hadn't recognized him, the white collar would have given him away. "Yes. Misty. Donna, hello."
"Why did you creep up on us like that?" Donna asked. "Especially if you knew it was us? I mean, I volunteered at the bake sale yesterday, and I've got three kids in the parish school."
"What brings you here?" he asked.
"What brings you here?" Donna asked. "And why are you dressed like that? It's a bit…different than your normal robes."
"I'm Merlin." He shifted his eyes, seemingly a bit miffed. "I'm a bit disheartened you can't tell."
"I'm sorry. We definitely should have guessed. Your costume is fantastic," I said.
He looked mildly appeased.
"Why are you dressed as Merlin though?" Donna asked. "What is this place?"
"You should know. You found it. Speaking of—who told you about this place? It's not broadcast in the newspapers, available on the internet, or spoken about by anyone not in the Society."
"I uh…heard it through the grapevine," I said. "I don't really remember."
"Someone is spreading our secrets?" Merlin—or Father Olaf—took a step in my direction.
Reflexively, I took a step back. "I don't think they were purposefully spreading the word. I asked a bit, and it seemed like…uh, hearsay. Nobody really knew much about this place."
"Who is spreading our secrets?"
"Why does it matter?" I asked. "If it's just a comic book store, why does it have to be a secret? Wouldn't you want more people to know about it? Then maybe you'd have more customers."
"It is not 'just' a comic book store!" Father Olaf raised his voice, speaking in a tone I'd never heard him use at church before. Normally mild-tempered and rather monotone, his inflection today was passionate and energized.
"Aha!" I pointed a finger in his direction. "If it's not just a comic book store, then what is it?"
Father Olaf stumbled over his words. "It's a special space for members who appreciate the art of—"
"Have you seen the girls for tonight?" Another familiar voice erupted behind Father Olaf.
Father Olaf appeared immediately agitated. "Quiet. Silence, we have outsiders in the house—"
"Oh, are you the girls for tonight?" None other than Alfie appeared behind Merlin, partially shielded due to a nearly frantic Merlin trying to block Alfie's view. Which is probably why the latter didn't recognize us upon first glimpse.
"No, they're—" Merlin began.
Alfie the Cop gasped. "Why aren't you wearing your masks?"
I looked to Donna, who looked as bewildered as I felt. What did the town priest and Alfie the Cop have in common? I couldn't think of a single reason why the two would voluntarily be in the same room except for Christmas Mass. Let alone a musty comic book room.
"They're not who you're looking for," Merlin said. It was no use. Alfie bobbed up and down behind him, determined to get a glance at the only customers in the place. They probably didn't see outsiders around here too much, based upon how the two were acting.
"Hi, Alfie," I called out, bowing my head and raising a hand in his direction. "It's me."
With a dejected grimace, Merlin dropped his arms, the majestic purple robe dropping to his side.
"Misty? I had no idea you were into cosplay." Alfie stepped around Merlin, his body still in the shadows. To my dismay, his eye held a curious gleam I'd never seen before. "That's very…cool."
"Cosplay?" Donna asked, looking in my direction.
"Don't look at me. I don't even know what that means."
"Costume play," Donna said.
"To the layperson, maybe." Alfie tossed a judgmental glance to Donna. "To outsiders like you, I suppose."
"Please, feel free to help me understand what it means then…to an insider." I pulled out two chairs at the sparse desk in the center of the room, taking a seat on the first and patting the second for Alfie.
"Not an insider." Alfie shook his head sadly. "To the Society."
"The correct term is kospure, from Japan," Merlin said.
Alfie nodded. "Let me explain."
He moved forward from the shadow cast by Father Olaf's cape, and to my surprise—and sadness—Alfie was dressed in nothing more than a pair of leggings so tight I feared it was bad for his circulation. A Superman cape hugged his very white, very flabby chest, which was on full display.
I immediately regretted my decision to offer the chair next to me, as Alfie strode confidently into the room, puffing out his chest like an excited little penguin who'd consumed enough food to hibernate for a year.
"Here at the Society, we are avid fans of comics, obviously. But in addition to an appreciation for the physical books, we are more than that. We transcend the pages. We bring the characters to life." Alfie proudly pointed to his chest, standing all too close to me, while Merlin tried to disappear in the background. "Superman, you see?"
"I see," I said, wishing I hadn't. I was tempted to shield my eyes, but I n
eeded information, and I didn't want to risk offending the proud penguin who had answers to the questions I needed to ask. "And Father Olaf here, he's part of the Society too?"
"If you mean Merlin, then yes." Alfie gave a smug nod at Father Olaf, who looked as if he would like to disappear into his robe and make this event go away forever. At least from our memories.
"Who else is a part of this Society?" I asked.
"That's classified information," Merlin spoke up from the shadows. "You never told us why you're here."
"On that note, where were you tonight between four and eight p.m.?" I asked, my eyes narrowed at Alfie. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to ask immediately, but in my defense, I'd been a little distracted by the neon-red Speedo he was wearing. The amount of skin showing was very unnecessary.
"What does it mean to you?" Alfie stuck up his nose a bit. "I was at work."
"Were you?" I raised my eyebrow. "Because someone mentioned that you didn't answer a call this afternoon, so…you might want to reconsider your explanation before the cops come talking to you."
"I am the cops." Alfie jutted his chin even further out, but I saw his eyes shift nervously to Father Olaf. "Why would they need to talk to me about anything? And especially something you'd know about before me?"
"They'll be talking to you about a break-in at my house." I crossed my arms. "If you don't have a more solid alibi by the time the cops show up, you'll be in a wee bit of trouble, I might think."
"But it wasn't me. Why would I break into your house? Why would you even think that?"
I shrugged. "I've been wondering the same thing. But believe me when I say there's already enough evidence to justify asking you a few questions. And don't get any ideas—someone already knows about it, just in case something else should happen to me in the meantime. Someone who can do something about it."
"It wasn't me," Alfie said, softer this time.
"All right, fine." I stood up. "Donna, he doesn't want to talk. Let's hit the road."
"But what about…" She paused, giving me googly eyes. I knew that meant "what about the questions we came here to ask?" I shook my head. I had a new, better idea. And it all revolved around Alfie thinking that the main reason I'd come here was to get his alibi and give him a warning.