seymoure

“The Hacksaw, The Rose & The Parthanon Parrot”
A Sebastian Claus Supernatural Adventure
By C. Wayne Owens
Chapter 1
“Death Among The Stacks”
    Vincent Brewer had completed a boring day. That was the way he liked it. Early in the morning he dusted during the hours before the noon rush. (It was never a “rush” like they saw in restaurants, it meant that a couple of people would come in. But that was a rush for the bookstore.)
    He had recovered a rare book, and had hoped to read the thing today, but he was only able to start before the “regulars” came in and talked about nothing for several hours.
    Now, with the sun setting, it was time to close the doors, and go home. There he would have a snifter of liquor and settle back into his favorite chair and finish his new acquisition.
    He turned off the lights and felt in his pockets for his key ring.
    Then he heard something near the back of the store. It was probably mice, but he felt compelled to check it out.
    He didn’t want to turn on the lights, mostly out of laziness, he guessed. But the one time he ever turned the lights on after closing, he was met at the door by the lady who wanted to exchange her romance novels, and she would not hear that
he was already closed.
   He came around the “Science Fiction” shelf and saw what seemed to be a ragged pile of cloth. As he approached it, the pile seemed
to grow.
   He was now concerned. He thought of hitting thePanic button on his car keys, and realized it would only draw people to his car. For once he wished he had spent the money on a security system.
    By now the pile of clothing had grown to the full height of a man. What had seemed to be a pile of rags, was now reflecting like satin.
    Brewer started. What the heck was this? Was this one of those performance artists, hiding out in his place?
    “Hey, you should not be here,” He said in as stern a voice as he could muster.
    The figure stood to its full 6’ height. The satin cape fell from his shoulder as he pointed his epee’ at the bookseller.
   The creature spoke to the three shadowy figures that now stood behind him. The bookman didn’t understand the language so he missed a
lot, but it seemed that the figure said something like, “décidément, il est au fur et à mesure avec Cardinal. Richelieu vouloir sacrifier la reine sur autel les siennes ambition personnelle. cesser!cesser sinon je devoir causer vous la mort!”
    That was enough for Vincent Brewer. He dropped the papers and the book from his hands and bolted towards the door.
    He made about 3 steps before being pierced through the heart by French steel. When he hit the ground, the figures behind him once again
devolved into piles of rags that then faded into dark mist.
    Then the “Book Haven” was dark and quiet.
    On the floor was a copy of a rare book and an unlucky seller of books whose life was spilling out onto the tiles.
    In the parking lot a car alarm screamed.

© 2005 by C. Wayne Owens