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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Ally of My Ally"  You let Michelle wake on her own. And after ten minutes of prep, all you can think of to say, when she sits up on her elbows and gives you a hard look, is "Hey." You're perched cross-legged on an old, dirty desk next to the conference table where she is stretched out. You'd been replying to a text from Sabrina, asking if your mom was done with you yet, but you scramble to put the phone away as Michelle frowns at you. "So how do you feel?" you ask. But she just continues to stare hard at you, then glances around. It's obvious she has no idea where she is or how she got there. "Yeah, you're probably drawing a blank," you say. She sits up with a scowl, glares down at the floor, and shakes her head as though to clear it. She finally speaks when she looks up again: "What's going on?" "You know that old elementary school in Acheson, a couple of blocks from where you live? That's where we are. Down in the basement." "What are we—? How did—?" Her frown deepens and a hot light comes into her eyes. "Is Chelsea Cooper here?" "Yeah, no, she's not Um, can you not be pissed at me or something? 'Cos I basically just rescued you." "Rescued me? From what?" Michelle growls. "From Chelsea. Turns out she's a bit of a witch. You knew that, but I mean literally. Like, real witchcraft." "Alix, what are you—?" Michelle grimaces as she slips off the table and onto her feet. "Can we get out of here? This dust—" "Yeah, I don't like the dust either, but it's better if we stay down here. Listen, just let me explain." You hiccup. "And don't ask me to explain how I know all this, just trust me that I do. Can you do that much for me, Michelle? I mean, please?" You give her Alexis's widest, brightest, most pleading smile. She makes a face and says nothing. But after a moment, she does grunt an affirmative. Her whole demeanor, though, tells you that you'd better make it fast. You take a deep breath. "Okay, to start with— So, once upon a time there was this guy who found a book of magic in a used book store. Like, a real, old-fashioned grimoire, with spells and everything. Spells for making disguises, and bewitching people, but he—" Alexis won a couple of creative writing prizes in middle school, so you find it much easier than you thought it would be to tell Michelle your story. Only with the names of the protagonists—except for Chelsea's—left out for the time being. * * * * * Naturally, Michelle looks very skeptical when you're finished, even though you've got that mask you pulled off her as evidence, along with the grimoire itself, which you'd also picked up from your doppelganger. She pages slowly through it with an expression of distaste. "So you still haven't told me how you found all this out," she says after you've explained things to her again. "Or who this guy is that you say Chelsea's been working with. And I sure don't believe any of it," she sourly adds. You've been putting off this part of the story, and you have to stop yourself from backing away from Michelle as you plunge into it. "Well," you gulp, "I guess I can answer that part, and prove to you that's it's all true, if I, um, show you something. But you have to promise that you won't freak out. I mean, I don't want you running away or anything. And you have to promise you won't hurt me." Michelle glares up at you from under lowered brows. "I'd want to hurt you?" You nod, and gulp again. "I messed up, Michelle, and I'm trying to fix things. Really, I am. And I can't finish fixing things if you—" You swallow, for you really are afraid of what Michelle might do to you. "If you try to kill me." Michelle studies you for a moment. "Yeah, alright," she says. "I won't kill you. But just finish up, already." Your head seems to bobble loosely on your neck as you nod. "Okay, the first thing is that I have to take my clothes off. 'Cos I don't want to tear them up. And, um, then I'm going to have to, uh, transform," you add as Michelle pales. "'Cos I'm wearing a mask too. Like the one you were wearing. Because," you add miserably as Michelle stares at you. "I'm not Alexis. Not really. I'm—" You take a deep breath. "I'm really that guy who found that book." You expect that to set off an explosion, but Michelle only continues to stare evenly at you. At first you wonder if she even heard what you said. Then you realize that she just doesn't believe you. Well, this will show her, you think as you strip off Alexis's jacket and kick off her shoes. When you're naked, you look up at her again, to find her still staring at you with a stony glare. With a final gulping sigh, you heft yourself onto the same conference table where Michelle woke, and grab your forehead with one hand. You close your eyes, mutter some arcane words, and pull. * * * * * Waking is like clambering out of a muddy hole, and even after you raise up and look around with a frown you can't quite place where you are and what has happened. But when something moves in the corner of your eye, you fly backward and tumble onto a hard floor. "Fuck!" you exclaim, and cower, for in a flash it has all come flooding back, and you raise your arms to ward off what you're sure will be a well-aimed punch in the face from Michelle Estrich. But when you peep back out again, you find yourself alone. You clear your throat and call Michelle's name. When there's no answer, you call again, more loudly. The reply comes from the top of the stairs: "Is that you?" Depends on who "I" am, you think, and stumble to the foot of the stairs. "Michelle?" You blink at the apparition at the top. She is backlit from behind, so she's only a silhouette, but you can tell that she's seated at the top of the stairs. "Yeah," she drawls. "You got any clothes you can put on?" "Uh, no. Um, are you okay?" "Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Her tone is cold. "So where's Alexis? The real one. I got that mask thing up here with me, if you're looking for it." You take a deep breath. At least she didn't try to kill me while I was unconscious, you think. "Okay," you call back. "Um, Alexis is back at my house. You know how I explained how you could hide people under a mask, and make them into a kind of slave? Well, Alexis is hidden under a mask of, um, me." "Uh huh. And why's that? And do you have a name? One of your own," she adds. "Will Prescott. I'm a senior, like you. And, well—" You scratch the back of your head. "Chelsea talked me into, um, impersonating Alexis." You hate having to shout all this up the stairs—it's like you're broadcasting your secrets to the world—but you don't dare go up the stairs to meet her directly. "It was just supposed to be a temporary thing. I want a girlfriend, you see." God, what a horrible excuse it sounds like, now that you say it out loud. "I wanted a girlfriend, and Chelsea suggested that if I, uh, pretended to be Alexis then I might be able to find one down in the junior class. I could, uh, set something up, and then we'd bring Alexis back, and no harm, no foul. You see. It wasn't supposed to be permanent," you insist. "So is that all done?" Michelle asks. "You got a girlfriend and you're putting things back?" "No. I changed my mind. I didn't— I didn't know Chelsea was going to do something to you. That wasn't part of the plan. And I didn't like it. So I'm putting things back." Michelle is silent for a moment before replying. "Does Chelsea know this?" "No. I don't know what she'll say." You chew your lip. "I don't know what I'm going to do about her." Michelle grunts. "So you 'rescued' me," she says, and contempt drips off the word "rescued." "Are you going to bring Alexis back now?" "Yes. But, um—" You writhe a little. "I was hoping you could do it." "Me?" "Well, I'd go get the other me, and I'd show you what to do. But I'd leave it to you to get the mask off Alexis, and to explain things to her." There's a long pause. Then: "You're that big of a coward?" "No! I mean, I don't want to, but— I'm thinking of Alexis," you insist. "She's going to be freaked out hard. It would be better if she had a friend, not some strange guy, to explain it all to her. She's not as strong as you are, Michelle," you add into the silence that follows. "Alright, I get it," Michelle sighs. The stairs creak as she stands up. "Can we get started?" "Sure. But you'll have to go get her. Because I'm a moron and forgot to bring a change of clothes." "Okay, where do you live?" You pass along your address. "I'll be back as soon as I can." You sigh with relief. Until she closes the door on you and slaps the padlock back on it. * * * * * It's a quarter hour—though it feels longer—before the door opens again and Michelle descends with your twin. "How about you get the clothes and mask off him," she suggests when you're all downstairs. "I'll take over from there." "What's going on?" the fake you asks. "Is this gonna interfere with my date?" Naturally, the question startles you. "Date? What date?" "I got a date tonight. Yumi helped set it up." He gives you a shit-eating grin. Next: "While You Were Away" |
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