Rachel slammed the door of her office building and pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, free at last from her dreadful job. She looked around at the bustling atmosphere of NYC and smiled. Today was going to be a good day. She could feel it.
It was Thursday, a day before she was supposed to meet the strange man at the bookstore again. She still didn't know what to think of it, or even if she would go.
At that moment, something grabbed her leg. She looked down to see a toothless old lady sitting on the sidewalk, grinning wickedly.
"Let go, please."
"No!" She said loudly, like a three year old being denied it's trip to the playground. She gripped harder, her clawlike nails digging into Rachel's skin through her jeans. "Must tells you something," she whispered and giggled.
Rachel raised her eyebrow and tried in vain to break free. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire," she muttered. Louder, she said, "Okay, do you want money?"
"No. Musts tell you something."
"Fine. What?" She bent down slightly to see the woman better. Her skin was overly wrinkled and extremely pale, but not spotted with age. Her eyes were extraordinarily blue and she was bundled in rags. She didn't want money, but she seemed poor.
"Musn't loses the game, girly!" She cackled. Rachel jerked backwards, but she still kept a firm grip on her ankle.
"What are you talking about? What game?" She asked, a note of panic in her voice as she tried harder to jerk free.
"The riddle game! Hee hee, yes, the riddles game! Can't loses!" The woman gave a gaping grin and let go.
Rachel stumbled and landed in a pile of slush, seething. The woman gave a last cackle and disappeared into thin air. Just like...