The Reality of it Is…

A/N: Hi! Shamefullyhere, here! Just a heads up, the main route is gonna start slow burn and pick up steam fast. Normally the first chapter describes the rules and then people can add threads, but I don’t have all the rules worked out yet, so this is a transformative game of Snakes and Ladders. If that’s all you need, skip this chapter and write your own thread!

***

Hank, uncharacteristically, said nothing for most of their drive. He didn't even put on music. He just gripped the shedding rubber of the steering wheel and drove down the rainy highway. What could he even say to her?

He squinted at the rearview mirror, trying to see through the small tunnel of clothes and boxes that stacked all the way to the roof of his car in the back seat. Talia's whole life, hastily crammed into the trunk and back of Hank's shitbox 2006 Civic. What had originally taken a U-Haul and four friends bribed with pizza and beer to pack and move up to Seattle somehow fit into his shitty little sedan with just the two of them. Talia was covered in a mountain of her clothes serving as a blanket. They wouldn't fit anywhere else, and so she had to sit for the last two hours crushed under the weight of old t-shirts and dresses.

The rain was picking up, visibility on the highway was getting a bit tricky. Hank slowed to forty-five just in case there was a semi hidden in the mist covering the slick road. He managed to see a sign indicating an off ramp two miles ahead. If it kept up, he knew he was going to have to pull over. He wanted to get her to his place before the sun went down so they could unload with some light, but Sarah insisted on having a screaming match that had delayed the packing process and there was still a good hour before they even got to city limits.

It wasn't like they were strangers. Talia was one of Hank's dearest friends, though they hadn't spoken for the last couple months. After the move, she had texted all of them and said she was trying to leave her old life behind so her and Sarah could have a fresh start. Their other friends were not as patient with her and had written her off. Hank was certain he wasn't the first person she called. But their friends weren't exactly pleased with her ditching them the way she did and every time someone had to leave a gathering or party, they were always asked with a shit-eating grin if they were trying to leave their old life behind. Hank never gave up on Talia, though. How could he?

"Rain's picking up." Talia broke the silence, voice hoarse from crying.

Hank nodded. "Yeah," visibility had suddenly shot down as the sound of water turned into the roaring of a river falling from the sky. Hank usually loved driving in the rain. The smell, the atmosphere, the fog, it all calmed him and helped him relax. But this was becoming unsafe. "I'm gonna pull off at this exit. Maybe we can grab something to eat."

He slowed to twenty-five, gently veering down the off-ramp he had thought was another half-mile ahead. "Ok." Talia adjusted in her seat, preparing for how she was going to get the pile of clothes off her to get out.

Talia looked half-dead. Physically she was fine; skinny, but still a healthy weight. She didn’t have any bruises or marks. But there were dark circles under her puffy eyes. She didn’t carry herself with her usual confidence. Her blonde hair, which she always kept long, was a matted, frizzled mess. Even the baggy clothes she wore were wrinkled and there was a stain on the green sweater that Talia never would have suffered were she more herself. There was a light missing behind her eyes where the image of Sarah had once been. The woman who Talia thought Sarah was, who wasn’t.

As they rolled down the off-ramp, a red light shone through the trees, cutting through the fog. At first, Hank had thought that it was the tail light of another car, but as they pulled up to the four way stop, he saw that it was the light from a tall rectangular sign, prominently featuring black gothic letters against a red background.

OPHELIA’S CABINET OF CURIOSITIES

Behind the sign was a small, empty parking lot and a small, derelict building.

The building looked like it was trying too hard to look like a haunted Salem house or stereotypical horror movie setting. Irregularly placed roofing tiles, black paint, asymmetrical support beams on the wraparound porch. Everything about it looked like it was trying to project the image of being old and creepy. This gave Hank the courage to get a little playful and lighten the mood.

“C’mon.” Hank turned to Talia with a wry smile. “SpOoOokY hOuSe!” He gestured to the building as his car stopped at the stop sign. Talia nodded, cracking the faintest of grins, though obviously she was fighting it. Talia always had a habit of keeping her negative emotions consistent. If she was sad, she much preferred to stay sad until she processed all of it. If she was angry, she wanted to stay angry until the matter was resolved. Totally opposite of Hank, who was perfectly fine with distracting himself and others from any woe for as long as it took to forget.

“I see that.” Talia nodded, her interest betraying her flat delivery. Her and Hank were the biggest babies when it came to horror and so used to always go to scary movies or haunted houses together. If there was some sort of haunted attraction of some sort in town, one of them would usually **** the other to join. That was before Sarah.

Hank scoffed at her underwhelming reaction. “Dude.” He raised his eyebrows. “Rainy day, spooky store in the middle of nowhere—“ Hank began counting the reasons on his from a nearby tree, a loud cawing from a **** of crows in a nearby tree echoed over the storm. Hank’s eyes suddenly widened, gesturing vaguely towards the source of the noise.

This managed to finally break Talia’s frown, though she chastised him with her eyes. She wanted to stay sad. Hank lifted his pinky toward her, the squeaking of the windshield wipers droning on. “Spooky Buddies.” He stated, invoking the sacred vow they had taken as teenagers that had been ignored so many times the last few years.

Talia didn’t answer as she tried to formulate her words. She always thought before she spoke, which was unwise in Hank’s presence. He could just keep talking and add new arguments for her to balance until finally it wasn’t worth the mental strain of disagreeing. “What else are we going to do?” He proposed. “Just until the storm lightens up.” She was still thinking. “Better to die in a horror movie than in some mundane ass car crash.”

Talia closed her eyes and shook her head, still grinning. “Fine.” She relented, weakly taking his pinky in hers.

“You have to say it.” Hank taunted, not letting her finger go. It was stupid, but he figured having the familiar be just as she left it might help her adjust better. Take comfort in the nostalgia. “It’s tradition.”

She let out a sharp exhale. I wish things were different, Hank thought. He hated seeing any of his friends suffering. He had never quite been sold on Sarah, but he never truly wanted them to break up. Not with how happy Talia was.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Talia blinked slowly. “Whoever invokes Spooky Buddies has to swear to sacrifice themselves to save the other one if it turns into a horror movie.”

Hank smiled. “But of course. I’m inviting you, so I’ll throw myself at the mercy of the witch that lives in the tourist trap.”

Talia giggled, not quite with enthusiasm, but it was genuine. She squeezed his pinky. “Spooky Buddies.” She accepted.

The inside of the building was quite similar to the outside. Asymmetrical, lopsided shelves crowded with assorted bullshit that was tangentially Wiccan. Taxidermy creatures, leather bound tomes, tarot cards, sticks that vaguely looked like wands. The walls were painted blood red and the wooden floors groaned to protest every step trod upon them.

It was significantly larger than the outside had led them to believe, though everything being packed and stacked like a labyrinth in a hoarder’s house may have helped sell the illusion of depth. It was, as was so often the case with Scary Buddy attractions, much lamer than either had anticipated. It kinda felt like a thrift shop stocked entirely with odds and ends meant to appeal to the surface level of vaguely pagan myths. The kind of place people who’s only personality trait was undefined quirkiness would flock to.

The door rang a bell when they entered, but neither Hank nor Talia saw anyone at the front desk. Hank looked to the lit neon sign in the window declaring the place to be open. “Hello?” Talia called out after a long moment. They didn’t want to be someplace they weren’t supposed to be if they had meant to close up for the storm.

Hank noticed a little silver bell on the counter next to a display rack for Fae Dust Condoms. Slowly, Hank strode over to the counter, trying to peer down each of the narrow aisles the shelves made for any employee or owner. But, seeing none, he brought his hand up to ring the bell. Talia started perusing the shelves behind him.

The metal of the bell was way colder than the air, as if it had just been taken out of the freezer, and its ring was much louder than he had anticipated, despite his light strike.

There was a sudden flash of movement from behind the counter as a woman stood up from behind it, inhumanly fast. Hank jumped and let out a girly yelp of surprise that transitioned into a laugh once he saw the woman.

She was dressed in a black lace robe and wore makeup that made her skin white as milk. Her lips tinted blue as if she were dead despite her ice blue eyes scanning the two of them. Cradled in her arms were a few items.

“Wow! That was good.” Hank laughed, wagging his finger at the woman and turning to see an amused Talia moseying her way over to join them. “You must get a lot of people with that.”

The woman shrugged, smiling at them with teeth somehow whiter than her skin. “I’ve collected your order.” The woman said, setting the items on the counter. She began by holding up a miniaturized umbrella attached to a chain.

“Oh, we just came into look.” Talia said. “We haven’t ordered anything. You might be waiting for someone else.”

The woman shook her head, holding the umbrella by the chain. “For the gentleman.” She began, as if reading an invoice. “One fair weather talisman. Keep it open like this and you will be followed by your favorite weather. Close it to stop the effect. If you keep it hung on your rearview, traffic will also tend to favor you. If it goes upside down, you will be haunted by bad luck until you flip it upright.”

The woman set the tiny umbrella on the counter, in turn picking up a small, unfolded cardboard box with hand holds. “For the lady.” She folded the box into its full size, roughly large enough for a single basketball, then slammed it onto the counter as if it were suddenly heavier. “One garment box. All clothes placed inside it will just barely fit within, no matter how large or small or many or few. When folded out, the box will always weigh fifteen pounds regardless of its contents. The garments inside will never wrinkle or tear while inside and will be safe from the elements. If any items are left within for too long, then they will also begin to just barely fit on your body.”

She collapsed the box so it could lie flat on the counter, leaving one final item. Talia and Hank decided to stay quiet, listening intently. This woman was a great performer. Most places like this are hokey, and even the bigger horror events have staff that don’t commit to the bit or have mostly ad-libbed lines that are over the top. This woman really made this stuff feel real through sheer mundanity.

The last item was a wooden box about as thick as a dictionary and stretched a foot for its length and width. It rattled with pieces inside as the woman set it next to the other items. “And for both of you: The Reality of it Is.” She read the gold painted letters etched on it aloud. “A game for people who wish things were different. If you open it, it mostly plays itself, but it’s better if you play along.”

The woman pulled out a tablet and began inputting the items, finally turning the screen to face them. “Thirty-two-sixty. Will you be paying cash or card?”

Talia let out a single guffaw, amused by the forwardness of the saleswoman. Hank was thoroughly impressed at the audacity. But he knew it was part of the performance. “I thought this was one of those shops where everything’s free but you pay a terrible price.” He smiled, putting on a silly voice.

The woman behind the counter didn’t break character. “We did that for a while.” She answered without missing a beat. “But people stopped falling for it. So now we charge super cheap and people are more accepting.” Thunder shook the frame of the building.

“Can we look around for a bit and decide? We’re waiting out the storm. Maybe see if there’s anything else we like.”

The woman furrowed her brow, holding up the tiny umbrella. “Just make your purchase and the storm goes away.” She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “There’s nothing else for you, here.”

Talia stepped forward, pointing to the Fae Dust Condoms. “I don’t know, those look interesting.”

“I can’t sell them to you.” The woman said. “You were sick of being covered in clothes in the car. He was sick of the bad weather and feared traffic. And both of you had the exact thought that you wish things were different. These are the items I can sell you. Everything else is for other buyers with other needs. So unless you have erectile dysfunction, I cannot sell you Fae Dust Condoms.”

Hint taken, Hank thought. Everything else was just window dressing. The woman had little trinkets she chose and convinced you to buy it out of curiosity. Perhaps it was some sort of ARG or something like OmegaMart.

“You know what?” Talia laughed, fishing for her wallet in the pocket of her cardigan. “Sure. Why not.” She pulled out her credit card, passing it to the woman.

Hank was surprised by this. Talia was usually the one who put her foot down and said no on their behalf on account of Hank’s amiability. She was always the one in the group asking people if they didn’t want to see everything first before buying anything and usually had to be the voice of reason. But some sort of mood seemed to have gotten into her.

The woman swiped the card and handed it back, placing the items into a paper bag. “Receipt?” She asked, but Talia shook her head. “All sales are final without a receipt. You will not be able to return any items without one.”

Talia grinned. “I’ll eat the cost, here.”

The woman shrugged and continued putting the items into the bag.

“Is the game any fun?” Talia asked, grabbing the bag as it was passed over the counter.

The woman gave an insincere smile, like she was saying a pre-written line that she hated. “Once you start, you won’t be able to stop.”

“Oooh, spooky.” Talia chuckled, reaching into the bag and pulling out the tiny canvas umbrella. She extended it toward Hank. “Your umbrella, sir.” She said, adopting an exaggerated British accent.

“Thank you, madame.” He accepted it in turn with his own voice. With theatrical flair, opening up the small thing with over the top daintiness, holding it above his head.

Both of them were suddenly struck by how quiet it was. The water pounding against the roof, rushing against the asphalt, and plapping against the windows fell almost silent in a single instant.

They both turned to look out the windows, finding that the rain had gone from torrential downpour to the slightest of drizzles. Small droplets falling steadily but lightly into the puddles in the parking lot.

“A coincidence, you’re sure.” The woman said, her smile suddenly sinisterly wicked. And concerningly, sincere.

Hank was always the more superstitious of the two. He didn’t believe in ghosts or demons or witches. At least, not while the lights were on. This woman was putting on a show, and he knew that. She probably saw Talia sitting under a mountain of clothes when they pulled up and took a safe bet with the cardboard box. The umbrella charm was a safe bet, too; Who wouldn’t want better weather and no traffic?

What gave him pause, funnily enough, was the board game. He had literally just had the thought. He wished things were different. But, then again, who didn’t?

In another way, Hank did not truly believe that the umbrella just changed the weather from a terrible storm to a pleasant cloudy drizzle. But he was also consciously keeping it rightside up. Just in case.

The woman waved them goodbye. “Have a safe drive. Thanks for stopping by.” The two reciprocated the wave and stepped outside, the bell above the door failing to ring. It shut too quickly, probably from a weight set too high in the mechanism.

Hank turned to Talia, who in turn looked to him with the first genuine smile he’d seen from her since the last time they’d seen each other. “She was good!” Talia laughed happily.

Hank felt himself get more excited at having his thoughts spoken back to him. “Right!?” He pointed to the little umbrella pinched between his fingers. “I mean, I know the weather was just lucky timing, but holy shit she was quick with that line.” He laughed.

She snapped, pointing at him to emphasize. “Yeah,” she nodded, suddenly adopting a foreboding voice. “‘A coincidence, you’re sure’ was so sinister a thing to say. It had me almost believing for a moment, there.”

They continued raving about how surprisingly well done the odd little performance was, speculating what the real purpose of it was. It had to be marketing something, they determined. Probably some horror movie or video game hoping that people would make social media posts about the odd trinkets to catch the internet’s attention.

“This box is deceptively spacious.” Talia noted, hefting the box off the passenger seat and shoving it to the floor under the glove box. Somehow Clothes Mountain had gone from consuming the entire passenger side of the car to fitting just barely into the box. Everything in it was going to be a wrinkled mess, but Talia no longer cared. She’d steam them later. “Thank you.” She switched gears, standing to her full height to look Hank in the eyes.

He had been holding a full-sized umbrella over the passenger door to keep her dry while she packed, though the rain was light. “Well, yeah, wasn’t gonna let your magic cardboard soak through.” He laughed.

She nodded with amusement, but her eyes were still serious. “I mean for…” she suddenly looked to her feet. “I really needed Spooky Budd—“ she couldn’t finish her thought, beginning to cry into her hands.

Hank’s eyes widened, heart sinking. “D-did you want a hug?” He never felt comfortable initiating physical contact with people. Even friends. Even when it was obvious what they wanted.

She nodded, lifting her arms for his shoulders and he leaned in and wrapped an arm around her back, patting and rubbing her shoulders while she cried into his shoulder for a few minutes. He shushed and reassured her, waiting for her to regain her composure. Finally, she gently pushed him away and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.