3. The Hot Guy will Always Save You
3
The Hot Guy will Always Save You
You
You turn, staring back down the dark block where the bookshop windows glowed brightly moments before, but there’s still nothing there.
He must have finally gone to bed, you reason. The old man just locked up and turned out the lights for the evening.
That’s all.
Of course that’s all.
You rub your eyes, clutching the paper-wrapped book tighter to your chest as a cold wind swirls down the street, rattling the dry leaves and sending them swirling.
What a creepy night.
The old man’s words echo in your head, making you shiver: The world-veil is extra thin tonight.
You shake the uneasy feeling off, hurrying down the sidewalk toward the warm, beckoning orange glow of the nearest lit streetlight.
But before you can get close, it buzzes and snaps out.
What the? Not just one, but two streetlights. What are the chances…
You shiver again, goosebumps rising along the back of your arms. Something doesn’t feel right.
The feeling of being watched prickles the back of your neck, but when you glance behind you, there’s nobody there.
You walk faster, eager to get out of this creepy section of town and never come back. Where the heck is everybody!? Usually it’s quiet, but not this quiet.
Not a single car has passed by since you left work.
Just as you’re finally nearing the comforting safety of the next streetlight, it clicks out with a pop .
You freeze.
“Well, that’s super creepy,” you mutter to yourself, glancing both ways before continuing down the dark street. If you didn’t know better, you’d think this was all some sort of sick prank.
You’ve never felt so creeped-out walking home before.
That’s when you hear the sound.
It sounds like a dog’s nails clacking across hard floor. A really big dog.
You gulp, swallowing hard, heart in your throat as you turn slowly around to see what that sound was.
Even in the near complete darkness, there’s no missing it.
You swear under your breath.
Not twenty feet away, a huge, plated monster with a body like a giant scorpion emerges from the shadows. It has glowing red eyes and way too many legs—legs that all seem to end in sharp pinchy bits.
Is this a nightmare!? It must be. Except that, unlike most of your nightmares, your feet don’t stick when you try to run.
At least there’s that.
You break into a sprint, clutching the wrapped book tightly as you careen down the dark block.
But the giant scorpion monster is faster. It slashes the air with its claws as you dive out of the way behind a dumpster.
Ew , the ground here is littered in trash and grime, but at least you’ve survived.
Your arm stings, and it’s too dark to tell, but you’re pretty sure you’re bleeding. It must have grazed you.
You swear under your breath.
This is bad. Because if you’re feeling pain, that means this can’t be a dream.
The dumpster rattles as the scorpion monster tosses it out of the way as easily as a toy. You scream, shoving off the wall.
“Help! Help me!” You yell, wishing you had time to grab your phone and dial the police. Though—would they even believe you? Probably not.
You’ve got no weapons.
Nothing to throw.
Nothing—you glance down at the book in your hands.
Nothing to throw, except the book.
“Sorry, old man,” you mutter, heaving the book at the beast.
But it just bounces off with a dull thud.
Well, crap.
The monster roars back on two legs, slashing wildly. Like you’ve only angered it.
That’s when you remember the thing the old man said about wishes.
You rush to pick the little book up again, clinging desperately to it as you run. But rounding the corner, you realize too late you’ve just trapped yourself into a dead-end alley.
Crap, crap, crap!!!
With no other options, you do possibly the craziest thing you’ve ever done in your life: You clutch the book to your chest, close your eyes, and whisper, “I wish a hot, magical book boyfriend would save me.”
This better work.
At first, nothing happens. Of course it doesn’t.
Then the book starts to grow warm in your hands. Then hot. So hot, it starts to burn.
You jump, dropping the book as its brown paper wrapping singes and crumbles off into ash. The book lands face-open on the pavement, pages fluttering in a sudden breeze.
Only, now the pages aren’t blank. The black paper is covered in an ornate, glowing golden script.
Bright light flashes out from deep within the spine, and a dark shape coalesces from inside the pages.
You stumble back, pressing yourself as far into the corner of the alley as you can. Slowly, the shape solidifies into a man.
And not just any man—a very handsome man, with messy black hair, chiseled jaw, and flashing eyes. Hot enough that he could totally pass for a book boyfriend.
You freeze.
Is it possible your absurd wish just came true?
A thread of golden light wraps around his left wrist and solidifies into a cuff before flashing out in a long strand and wrapping around yours.
Uh, oh. You glance down at your new, rather unexpected jewelry. Then back at the glowing light tethered between you.
It seems you and Mysterious Hot Guy are now attached.
Mysterious Hot Guy stretches his arms above his head, groaning like he’s just woken from a long nap. He cracks his neck from side to side and his eyes flash golden as the light fades from the book behind him.
Then he laughs—a low, slightly evil sound.
“Finally!” He growls, “I’m finally free!”
But his grin fades when he glances down and notices the glowing, golden cuff on his left wrist.
With a glare, he follows the thread of golden light to where it ends at your hand. You flash him a sheepish smile and give a tentative, awkward little wave.
Oops .
He looks mad.
Hot Magical Guy swears. Then swears again.
“ Damn it all ,” he mutters. “I should have known.”
At the other end of the alley, the giant scorpion-like monster rounds the corner, claws clacking on the pavement.
It’s found you.
“Please!” You call to the mysterious hot guy. “ Save me! ”
He smirks lazily, cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms again like he’s not bothered in the slightest by the sight of an enormous scorpion-monster barreling down the alley toward the both of you.
“Why?” He asks with a smirk, “What’s in it for me?”