A group of friends decide to mess around with an old spellbook on Halloween. Then when they wake up in the morning they discover things have completely changed. Because suddenly, they aren't just dressing up.

Chapter One: The Shop
Evan Harrison

“I'm off!” I yelled as I opened the door to our three bedroom terraced house. I heard someone mumble a bye from behind their door and shook my head. I was the only one of the group who was an early riser. I closed the door and locked it. First thing we needed was more food, we couldn't live on pizza and Chinese takeaways forever. Even at eight in the morning on a Saturday the supermarket was crowded. I grabbed random stuff that I figured could be made into meals when put together, then grabbed unhealthy stuff – making sure to include ice cream. The girls always moaned when we didn't have any. I thought girls were meant to be the one who went crazy and liked being the hostess.
The downsides of having the bigger place I guess. It meant we had to host everything, including silly, dress-up -Tayla's idea – Halloween parties.  

Luckily I managed to find a queue that wasn't too long and buy the stuff. I shoved that in the boot and unlocked the car to get back to the house, but something caught my eye. I walked across the road to a new place on the high street, until now the place had been abandoned. Pretty much no one had any interest in buying it. Mostly because it had some bad history involving haunting from way back. As a guy who studies Psychology, I doubt they were actual hauntings, just tricks of the eye.
Though the shop-owner obviously wanted a place with the given history, as it was some kind of occult store. I glanced back at my car and hoped the ice cream wouldn't melt as I walked inside. The first thing I noticed was the slightly acidic smoke of incense burning somewhere within. In excess, judging by the way the smog was blurring my vision slightly. I waved my hand in front of my face a little and delved deeper into the place. Gothic figurines lined shelves, along with books on palm reading and horoscopes. Dream-catchers hung from the ceiling and tickled the back of my neck a little as I walked.

At the back was another shelf, only the books here looked a lot older. I pulled one down, feeling the leather cover and glanced at the faded cover. It some gibberish in Latin or something. It wouldn't surprise me if Tayla knew what it meant, she knew random stuff like that. I glanced at the back but couldn't find a price of any kind.
“For you, a tenner.” I whipped my head round to see the shambling old lady, moving towards the counter from a back room. She leaned heavily on her cane as she moved. She had huge earrings that dragged her earlobes down to her chin and a smile that showed missing teeth. She had winkles within winkles and leant forward, her white eyes boring into me as if the blind eyes could actually see me.
“A tenner for this thing, eh?” I asked, not really interested in buying it. I imagined the inside would be just as untranslatable as the cover. I flicked absent-mindedly through the pages and saw diagrams and handwritten notes made by the typed paragraphs. I flipped it shut and checked the first page after the cover, where a pentagram glared up at me. Definitely not something I could afford to waste the money on.

“Fiver then,” the women called out, her voice raspy, but strong despite her age. I raised an eyebrow at her, it was almost as if she read my mind. Then I shook my head. There was no such things. Just reading physical and vocal changes and being a people-person.
“I won't lower the price more, even for you,” she added. I gave her an skeptical look before looking at my phone, I really had to head back. With some hesitation I slapped a crumbling five pound note on the counter.
“You won't regret this,” the women said as I left. I chose not to reply and just headed back to my car. At least I had sorted out someone's Christmas present months in advance.

The End

73 comments about this exercise Feed