I stumbled back, eyes wide, as the creature from the book stared me down. It wasn't supposed to be here. It couldn't be. My mind raced, trying to connect the dots between the fading books and the thing now standing before me—a beast straight out of Whispers of a Forgotten Kingdom, its eyes glowing a fierce orange. I took a step back, but it didn't move. It just watched me, as if waiting for something.
My breath hitched in my chest. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real.
I couldn't make sense of any of it, but one thing was clear: the lines between reality and fiction were blurring, and I was caught in the middle.
I paced around my small apartment, trying to think. There had to be an answer. There had to be someone who could explain this madness.
Then it hit me.
The bookstore.
The author.
Dawn Weaver had been signing books just a few days ago at the local shop. Maybe she knew something. Maybe the source of all this was there, in that small, quiet store.
I grabbed my jacket and ran.
The bookstore was only a few blocks away, a small, unassuming place with shelves stacked high with novels. The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside, the smell of paper and ink heavy in the air. It was quiet, too quiet.
I scanned the shelves, but there was no sign of the author. I walked deeper into the store, hoping for a glimpse of the mysterious figure who had created these worlds.
Then I heard a sound.
A shuffle. A low grunt. It came from the back, past the rows of books, near the office area. My stomach twisted.
I slowly approached, heart racing, and I froze.
A woman, slumped against the wall. Her clothes—something I'd seen before on the author.
Well, there's no way I'm getting help from her now, I thought to myself, as I felt the color drain from my face.
My breath caught in my throat. Something was terribly wrong.
Before I could process it further, a low growl echoed from the back room. My body tensed. I wasn't alone.
I didn't dare move. The air was thick with danger. Then, I heard the scraping of claws against wood, followed by a low, guttural sound—like a laugh.
And just as quickly, the creature I'd seen earlier in the street appeared, its glowing eyes meeting mine.
I should have run. But all I could do was stare, frozen in place.