Gary & Liz the Book: Chapter Two

REALLY LONG… You might want to print it out and read it. Please leave comments.

The hair on the back of Gary’s neck stood on end, his spine tingling as Horace walked out from the shadow of the bookcase. “Good evening children,” said Horace as he strode across the wood floors, sliding beside Liz’s chair and smiling. Horace’s face was much more clearly seen now that he stood in the light. His skin was old, his eyebrows were a bushy grey, and his nose was as long and pointy as a steak knife.
“Good evening,” returned Liz; speaking almost apologetically for her late timing of reply. “Can I offer any hospitality,” asked Horace, his eyebrows raising as he hinged on the back of his heel, spinning back and forth between Gary and Liz for a reply.
“No thank you,” replied Gary as he folded his book, sticking his thumb in between the page to insure that it was marked, and kindly lying it across his lap.
“Those are good books,” said Horace as he nodded his head in agreement to their choice. “You’ve read them?” asked Liz, who had also marked her page.
“Oh yes!” began Horace. “I’ve read most every book in this library,” finished Horace as he pulled up a chair beside them.
“You know there is a famous story about this library,” said Horace as he turned his head and looked around the room. “Really?” began Liz in curiosity.
“Can you tell us the story?” she said as she pulled her thumb from the page, now completely focused on what Horace had to say.
“Oh of course,” said Horace. “The story begins like this…”

“Long ago this castle was built, however, there are many questions about who actually built the structure. Some rumor that it was the wizard Merlin, others insist that it is a dark realm. I however choose to believe none of these explinations. But about this library… It is said that it holds many secrets untold… it is said that a great deul of light and darkness faced off under this very roof. Now… I want you both to close your eyes, release all that is stuffed into your head and rely on your imagination.

Liz and Gary both thought this was quite a silly thing to do, but Horace was persistent. They both closed their eyes; they were now standing atop the tallest tower in Gateway mansion. It was quite dark outside, the night had no moon, and the sky was covered in fog. Liz turned curtly toward Gary; it seemed that they were actually there.
Liz walked forward to the edge of the stone railing, peering slyly over the edge of Gateway Mansion. The forest pines swaying from side to side in the midnight wind. A figure strode from behind the trees, cloaked in black and gliding across the ground. Liz turned to look at Gary, but when she had turned around her had mysteriously disappeared.
“Gary?” she called repeatedly, her hollow voice echoing in the darkness of the tower. She rushed to the door, her sweaty hands embracing the cool brass handle. She opened the door, rushing quickly into the hall; but when she lifted her head to decide which direction she should go she found that she was not in Long Hall. In fact she was in no place of the sort.
She was standing in a tall and wide room. The walls were made of concrete and the ceiling was supported by tall wood beams that stretched from the floor and across the ceiling.
She stared blankly across the long room, noticing that the only light in the room was coming from what seemed to be a monstrous window at the end of the room. But when Liz focused her vision completely on the window, she found that it was no such thing. In fact, the window was nothing more than a mirror. Inside the mirror was a burning blaze, and standing tall stiff and centered in the middle of it was a man. She ran forward towards the mirror, and as she approached closer and closer to the mirror the mans physical features were brought into the light of the flame. He had bushy eyebrows and a long nose and—it was Horace!
She approached the mirror, her reflection however was not projected on the other side. “Wait!” said Horace, his voice tense but his face portraying no emotion.
“Wait for what?” asked Liz as she placed her greasy hands on the mirror.
“He is here!” said Horace.
“What? Who?” asked Liz; but right as she posed her question Horace shoved his arms out of the mirror, his hands gripping tightly around her neck.
“HE IS HERE!” shouted Horace, his face now curling, giving the impression that he was both angry and scared. Liz fought for him to release her, but no matter what she did, he did not give in.
He suddenly dropped her, she fell to the ground like a rag doll… but Horace was persistent, now making an attempt to walk out of the mirror completely.
Liz crawled in a crabwalk position, her forehead sweating as Horace’s head slipped from behind the sheet of mirror, his body piercing through it as if it were a layer of water. He stretched his knees from behind the mirror, his fancy Dunder shoes reaching to touch the floor… but the moment his foot touched the ground he disintegrated into dust.
Liz propped herself curtly back onto her feet, wiping the sweat from her head with the sleeve of her jacket, and beginning to walk away. She turned her head to look back at the pile of dust that was Horace. The pile was suddenly swept up into the air as if it had been blown by a strong gust of wind… and back through the mirror of fire it returned.
Suddenly a loud strike of music came into the air, like the sound of a beautiful organ player. Liz was suddenly drawn to the music, searching along the walls to find a way out. Within seconds she had found the door, and through it she journeyed to find the source of the music.
She now found herself in a courtyard of stone, in the middle was a large dead tree, its branches rotted like old tomatoes, and crows nested upon each branch. Behind the tree she could see the dark forest, the one for which the dark figure that she had seen earlier had appeared from. She began to breath deeply when suddenly someone grabbed her shoulder.
She turned around quickly gasping as she spun on her heal- and their standing in the shadow of the mansion was a face the face that she so deeply desired to see. Gary smirked back at her, trying to break the dense atmosphere of the moment. He had a long red bloody cut across his forehead and a bruise on the threshold of his neck.
“What—where were you?” asked Liz, not knowing whether or not to be angry or thankful. “I might ask the same question,” said Gary.
“What do you mean?” asked Liz. “It was you who disappeared.”
“Something grabbed me and pulled me into the shadow,” began Gary. “But I had returned within seconds. You were gone by the time I had returned.”

“Thank God your alright,” said Liz grabbing his shoulder. “Did you hear the music too,” asked Gary in curiosity. “Why yes,” said Liz as they both began to walk towards the tall wood door that led back inside… they turned towards, each other then quickly opened the doors.
They had now found themselves in the foyer, and their standing atop the staircase was a man. He was quite similar to Horace, except that his nose was thick and his eyes were green.
“Who are you?” shouted Gary, but the man just stood there, staring silently into nowhere. “Who are you?” asked Gary again, hoping upon nothing that the man would respong.
“My name is Thomas. Thomas Stockpot,” said the man, smiling. “What is going on?” asked Liz. “I was just in the music room,” replied Thomas as he looked down at them from the stairs. “Was that you playing the music?” asked Liz.
“Oh yes! Did you like it?” replied Thomas, hoping that they had enjoyed it.
“It was lovely…” replied Liz as she walked up the staircase, pulling Gary in her wake as she galloped up every step. “Do you know where we are supposed to go?” asked Gary, pulling on Liz’s forearm to catch up.
“That all depends on where you are planning to go,” said Thomas. “For if you ask me where you are to go without telling me where you are planning to go to, how am I to reply? Do I lie to you and tell you I know the answer or do I reply with the very question I have just posed to you?”
Liz and Gary both looked at each other, puzzled and trying to configure the exact meaning of Thomas words. “But,” said Thomas smiling. “If it is to the place that you need to be, then I should say that you should travel through this door,” finished Thomas as he shoved them quickly through the door that he had pointed out. They tumbled to the ground inside the door turning to look back at Thomas, but before they were able to catch a final glimpse of him he had slammed the door behind him and locked it. They both turned quickly; they were now lying on the hard wood floors of Long Hall. They propped themselves onto there feet, searching in quickly behind each door to see what they would find, when suddenly the dark hooded figure that they had once seen in the forest flew quickly through the door. The hall was as cold as a winter night, the chandeliers that lined the ceiling flickered from dim to bright. The creature approached quickly, and suddenly picked them up; throwing them quickly through one door and following quickly afterward. They were now lying on the floor in the library, their backs aching as the creature approached them. Suddenly a bright flash came, they could hear someone calling their names. “GARY! LIZ!” said the voice loudly but softly. Their names were repeated dozens of times and suddenly the room became as bright as noon sun… both Gary and Liz shut their eyes, hoping to shut out the light, but when they opened their eyes they found themselves sitting in the quiet safety of their wingback chairs, a book strone across their laps.

“Did you mean for that to happen?” asked Gary as he stared deep into Horace’s eyes. “That all depends on what you mean,” said Horace as he stood up and walked out of the Library. “Did you have the same dream?” asked Gary to Liz. “I was about to ask the same thing…” said Liz as she opened her book back up and started to read.