And So It Begins...

For anyone who may happen to come over from Mr. Landy's blog and happened to read what I said in the oodles of comments he gets, I thought up a rather devious little tale. Oh, how it is devious! And I hope Mr. Landy gets to read it. For all his Ameriminions who may read this and only got to book three, such as myself, this story takes place after book one. It is set in the "simpler" days.

But before I begin, I want to ad an extra congratulations for the thirteen winners of Mr. Landy's generous contest. I know how amazingly excited all of you are and, while I am slightly disappointed myself, I am also very happy for all of you. A sincere congrats from an author wanna-be.

And I will be posting this to a page each time I update it so that it is all together in one easy to read spot.

And  for the few or none who may have been anticipating this, though I am nervous to be posting it in such a vulnerable spot, but I will trust you. Please don't let me down. I am trusting you an awful lot. Don't break my heart, because I am doing this for you.

But first allow me to finish my trigonometry homework, which I am starting now. 9:09pm.

...

DONE! Whew! Wasn't that hard tonight. 9:48. Didn't take all that long either, so now I can give you that story!... After I actually type it. I can hear the emptiness of one anticipation and countless ones who know not of this. Needless, I continue:

It was late, but Stephanie had persisted with her parents about spending another night in her uncle’s house. She loved the ancient feel and all the old things, but tonight she wasn’t exploring, because the urge had been strong, an urge that swelled to the point of bursting. She had to do it.

The screen flashed in front of her eyes and the light cast eerie shadows and illuminations in the room, giving the perfect mood to the room. Such somber expectation, a dull emptiness in the house carrying the tones of the movie into its crevices. She was absorbed, not so much as she was in her uncle’s novels, but in the nostalgia of a childhood favorite. Lightning cracked on the television screen, and Stephanie thought of how the room held the darkness, but the outside did not hold the magic. There wasn’t even a moon tonight. But these thoughts did not stay long as her attention returned to the screen as the windows flew open, the white curtains fluttering in the dramatic wind as a barn owl entered the room.

“And what, pray tell, are you watching?” Stephanie tried not to jump, but couldn’t help it.

“Labyrinth,” she replied grudgingly, attempting to ignore that Skulduggery had caught her off guard. It wasn’t often he did, but she knew that he enjoyed it when he did. He didn’t sit down, just propped his skull on his wrist as his elbows dug into the back of the couch.

“Gracious, is that really who I think it is.”

“David Bowie? Yes,” Stephanie said.

“And what the hell is he supposed to be in that garish garb?” Skulduggery leaned forward to where he was in the corner of Stephanie’s sight. She wondered if he was looking at her or the screen. Without an actual face, it was always rather hard to read his expressions or even know where he was looking. Like now for instance. Something in the back of her mind started to play with the question of how he even perceived the world, but she pushed it back and reminded herself to enjoy her movie, not question magic.

“The Goblin King.”

“He doesn’t look like a goblin. More like a vampire or something. Anything but a goblin,” he scoffed.

Stephanie sighed. She was missing her movie. “He’s not a goblin, he is the king of the goblins. He rules the goblins and runs the labyrinth.”

“Ah.” He hunched in silence for awhile and watched the movie Stephanie imagined. The scene changed and the placid blue lighting changed to the browns of the labyrinth. And the blues had complemented Skulduggery’s skull so well. Now it was more of a peachy tone.

“You know there is a Scooby-Doo movie called ‘The Goblin King’, where the Goblin King is in fact a Goblin voiced by Tim Curry.”

Stephanie looked at him. He didn’t look back, she figured.  Just watched her movie. “’Scooby-Doo’?” she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s an American child’s cartoon about this big dog and his friends that solve mysteries. Except in the movie, the Goblin King was real. The movies are like that. It was pretty cheesy most of the time. A real waste of time, I’d say.”

“Why would you watch something like ‘Scooby-Doo’ in the first place?” Stephanie asked sarcastically. He didn’t reply. “Skulduggery?” Still no reply. Typical Skulduggery style. She stared at him awhile longer before giving up and returning to her movie. Sara was already talking to the little… whatever, Hoggle, whining about him killing the fairies. She sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back into the couch.

And silence reigned for the rest of the film as Sara fought her way through the Labyrinth. They were at the climax, with Sara running up and down those weird stairs that went all the wrong ways, her baby brother always just out of reach, and David Bowie singing and walking upside down on the stairs, and every other which-way. It was a little awkward with Skulduggery propped on the couch the whole time rather than sitting down. It just bothered Stephanie, like someone reading over her shoulder. She figured he must be enjoying it if he hadn’t left yet, but it was hard to tell from that expressionless skull. The hollow sockets would light up whenever the screen was bright, etching out the dramatic lines of the bone. She almost wished she was an artist for a moment, just to capture that. Capture the way the sleeves of his shirt fell down his arms for lack of anything to hold on to, the cuffs almost resting on his elbows. The shadows that fell across him, the shadows he casts; it was all very interesting.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked.

“To see how long it takes for you to stare back,” she lied.

“I’m watching your movie. Why aren’t you?”

“Because I couldn’t tell if you were or not. For all I know you are sleeping.”

Suddenly the room went very dark. The credits were rolling up the screen, casting hardly any light at all. She turned on the lamp beside her. The room was flooded with light again. Now he was facing her.

“Interesting movie. Not the usual Muppet stuff, but I like it. Very imaginative.”

“What? You don’t think it could be real, Mr. ‘Imaginative’,” Stephanie laughed as she stood up and stretched. Skulduggery stood up as well.

“Valkyrie, you honestly think that David Bowie is going to come through your window and whisk you away into a labyrinth full of goblins?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips. He leaned down to her level, eye-to-eye socket.

Stephanie leaned forward and looked back hard at him. “Stranger things have come through it,” she replied.

To be continued...

Note: For complete version, go to "A Night for Stephanie". And this has been slightly modified on said page.