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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Your Turn to Slam a Door Shut"  (Written by imaj) You have to do something about Blackwell. He's come after your family and you have to stop him. You are sure he's behind the burglary. What if he's behind the cancellation of your father's project at work too? What will he do next? You can't afford to wait and find out. Looking around school for someone to copy isn't going to help you so you decide to skip it. The problem is, you don't have a clue where to start. So you go right back to where you first met the creep: Arnholm's Used Books. Ted Arnholm is behind the counter when you arrive. He looks up from his well thumbed copy of Who Goes There and grimaces. 'You,' he grumbles. 'Again. What did I do to deserve this?' You decide the question is probably rhetorical. 'Hi Mr Arnholm. I don't think that attitude is going to sell many books.' 'You don't understand the second hand book trade, do you son?' 'I guess that's why you're the one behind the counter sir,' you say, more than a touch mockingly. Ignoring Arnholm's disgruntled harrumph you continue. 'But since you remember me, I guess you remember my last visit. I was looking to track down that Blackwell guy.' Arnholm's eyes narrow 'I should tell you the same thing I told him, no private details of customers, but he did promise me a finder's fee if you sold him the book.' Arnholm puts his book down on the table and sighs. 'If I give you the card he left me, will you promise that you will never come back in my shop again?' 'You treat all your customers this way Mr Arholm? I bet you get good retention rates,' you say, ignoring the icy stare he gives you. 'Right, right, I promise ok.' Arnholm reaches under the counter and pulls out a business card. 'Take it,' he says, offering the card. 'And go.' ***** You weren't even aware that Keyserling School of Mining & Technology even had a Professor of Archaeology, but apparently it turns out that it's an old holdover from the days when finding an Indian burial mound or some other shit was actually an impediment for a mining company. This dashes your Indiana Jonesesque fantasies of the military, which is strongly associated with Keyserling, chasing round the world for paranormal artefacts of power. You manage to track down Blackwell to where he's giving a lecture. He's actually showing a number of slides on a projector, so it's easy to sneak in the back door unnoticed and sit in the back row. You aren't keen on listening to the creep drone on about the Mesopotamians, whoever the fuck they were, so you start looking around the hall for anything interesting. There's a student sitting in the row in front of you a few seats of to the left by herself. Pretty hard to tell what she looks like in this light. Most of the rest of the class seem to be down towards the front. It's a perfect opportunity of course, so you quietly remove the new mask from your bag, sneak behind her and slip it onto her face from behind. No one notices as she slumps in her seat. No one notices as you quietly hurdle over the seats into her row. You wait for the mask to re-emerge, then just as quietly you hop back over to the back row. Just in time, it seems, as the lights come back up. You hit the floor to avoid being seen. You'll just have to lie here till the hall empties. 'Finally,' says Blackwell, his voice resonating clearly around the hall. 'I am still looking for a new research assistant to help me catalogue my extensive collection. Anyone who cares to supplement their income with a modest stipend should come by my office after four this afternoon.' And with that all the students file out. Almost all of them. One young woman has walked down to where Blackwell stands at the lectern. She waits until everybody else has left before speaking to him. 'Lock the doors,' she says matter of factly. 'Then come back down here.' You press yourself as flatly as you can to the floor and the row in front as Blackwell walks past to lock the rear doors. As he moves to repeat the process at the front doors you crawl along the floor to the edge of the row to get a better look. The young woman looks familiar but you can't quite place her. She takes what looks like a mask out of her bag and starts to turn it over in her hands. Even at this distance you recognise the tell tale matte surface on the inside that signifies the mask has been sealed. 'Only one blank left,' she murmurs. 'And that has to be saved for that fool of a boy. This had better work.' You realise she is talking to herself because, although Blackwell is standing next to her, he is vacant and unresponsive. You watch, mouth open as she slips off her sweater and starts to unbutton her blouse. Lucy Vredenburg! You'd recognise those boobs anywhere. Former head cheerleader, older sister to Cindy and one time target of you fifteen year old jerk-off fantasies. 'Clothes off,' Lucy orders Blackwell. You're surprised to see him comply. And then, once they are both naked, just when you thought things couldn't become any weirder, Lucy mumbles a word under her breath and rips of Blackwell's face. It's another mask, and underneath it' You're not sure what the hell is underneath it. You've seen little wooden dolls used in art class. Featureless things that can be posed to let people get the proportions right when drawing. The thing is like that, except that it is made of a dull granite like material. It stands perfectly still, like a statue. You almost don't notice as Lucy removes her mask to reveal Blackwell underneath. He takes a moment to recover his composure then carefully places the mask he just removed from himself onto the thing. The effect is almost instantaneous, grey rock softens to pink flesh and another Lucy stands naked in the hall, clearly scowling at Blackwell. 'Put your clothes back on,' he says, picking up the mask he removed from Lucy's bag. 'Follow your life as you would normally till the weekend. After that point you are to attempt to bring this girl to me when an opportunity presents itself. You are to tell no-one about me. Do you understand?' Lucy nods sullenly. ***** You managed to escape from the hall shortly after Blackwell and the fake Lucy left. You've been trying to work out what it was you saw since then. Blackwell must have used the book before his previous assistant accidently sold it. He must have some masks, but can't make any more. That's a chilling thought because you realise he could be anyone. Worse, you think, he's keeping a mask spare so he can make a copy of your memories. He wont need to find the book, your memories will tell him where it is. The statue thing, you guess must be a spell later on in the book. You could see if the new mask you've created unlocks that spell. Alternately you could apply some sealant and use the new mask to apply for the job as Blackwell's assistant. Either way, you'll need to head back to the elementary school. Next: "The Professor's New Assistant" |
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