1. An Ordinary Life
#1 of Anthro Magical Girl
Two college students, Jake and Kendra, are going through their normal lives as college students. That is, until something unbelievable happens...
"Mana is returning."
The deep, malevolent, powerful voice of the Ghoul King says softly. The echoes of the statement cause the cavernous space to shake. All those present, those that will lead the invasion, keep their heads bowed.
As the vibrations stop and any remaining echoes silence, a single voice, full of confidence and fear, says, "I have the initial target and the strike is being prepared, my Dread."
"Only one target!?"
The raised voice sends a blast that sends all others who are gathered to their backs as they scramble to fall prostrate before the Ghoul King.
The singular voice, less confident and more fearful, responds, "The next target is known, my Fearsome King. Once the mana levels are high enough, that strike will also commence."
Seemingly appeased for now, no other words come.
Jake feels the weight of finals pressing down on him like the undeniable weight of the textbooks in his backpack as he threads his way through the throng of students spilling out of the physics classroom. His gaze is fixed on the floor, thoughts darting from the unending equations he'd just left behind to avoiding any unneeded small talk with acquaintances. Stepping through the doorway, his shoulder clips a woman with auburn hair cascading just past her shoulders. "Sorry," he mumbles instinctively as his eyes fleetingly lock with hers in apology, but not lingering long enough to matter as he lets the flow separate them. Continuing his way our of the building, the encounter doesn't stay on his mind long as he thinks about what he's going to do next.
Steadying herself after the bump as the guy glancing at her, Kendra tries to say something but fails. The guy looks forward and continues walking. The flow of bodies forces her to keep moving as well as she stumbles into the hallway and leans against the cool wall as heart hammers a little too loudly in her ears from the unexpected contact. She watches the retreating figure for a moment before he's lost in the flood of students. A flush creeps up her neck as she scolds herself internally, <Why are you always in the way?>
She adjusts the straps of her bag, steeling herself with a deep inhale that does little to silence the clamor of self-doubt ricocheting in her mind. <You're so clumsy,> echoes her all too familiar inner monologue. Exhaling, she pushes off the wall, her steps measured and cautious as if the hallway itself could sense her insecurities as it wills her to trip on it.
As she moves through the corridor, her thoughts churn with the upcoming exams, the pages of notes awaiting her review, and the relentless pressure to prove her worth to others -- not just to her professors, but to the harshest critic she knows, herself. Her fingers tighten around the textbook in her arms, the knowledge within it a shield against her own self-deprecation. At least here, amidst formulas and theories, she can find some semblance of confidence.
Looking back to where that guy had gone, she feels a strange curiosity inching its way through her usual reserve. <Just another face in the crowd,> she convinces herself, though something about the brief collision lingers. For now, though, solitude calls, and she obeys, as she walks toward the exit.
Jake meanders down Main Street with the casual gait of a man whose only certainty is the uncertainty of what to do next. The hurried steps of students fade with each block away from the university he gets. His thoughts drift like leaves in an aimless breeze. "Might as well kill some time, let's see what the other end of Main Street has to offer." He murmurs to no one, a half-hearted attempt at justifying his procrastination, as he has two hours before his next class. Long enough to do something but not long enough to get his brain into a mood to study.
The town's heart beats along its main street, which is its namesake. Its steady thrum of activity hearkens back to simpler times. Shops line the sidewalk, their brick facades standing shoulder to shoulder like old friends. Their windows gleam with the patina of age, reflecting a slower era, the 1950s, when chrome was king, and neon was the herald of modernity.
His eyes are drawn to the movie theater, a relic among relics, with its grand marquee jutting out over the sidewalk like the prow of a ship. The neon lights buzz and flicker, casting an otherworldly glow on the faces of those who stop to admire it at night. "Wonder if they ever change those bulbs," he thinks, his gaze tracing the curves of neon tubing as he passes under the sign.
Not even sure what he's looking for as he continues to walk, his eyes wander from looking at the store fronts to looking at the signs that hang in front of the doors. One in particular catches his eyes, it reads "Magic Emporium". Walking up to the window, he's disappointed to see curtains with heavy drapes hiding any attempt to peek inside.
"Odd place for a magic shop," Jake mutters as he pushes the door open and walks inside, his curiosity piqued. A bell tinkles overhead, the sound strangely melodious, like it's casting its own spell to welcome him into the dimly lit interior.
"Welcome!" An older voice calls with an accent Jake can't place. "Looking for anything in particular?"
"Uh, just looking around, thanks," Jake replies as his eyes adjust to the soft amber lighting that bathes the space in warmth. Shelves line the walls, crammed with curiosities that range from benign-looking trinkets to oddities you might find at random truck-stops. It feels less like a magic store and more like a sanctuary for the peculiar.
"Take your time, young man," the shopkeeper says, disappearing behind a curtain, leaving Jake alone to roam the store.
"Yes, Mom, I'm just going to take a break." Kendra says softly into her cellphone. "I've been cramming for too-...no, I'm-...No just a movie to let my mind rest...I'm at the theater, bye."
Before her mother can say anything more, Kendra hangs up and turns her phone off. Looking up to the ticker, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she says, "One ticket for 'Follow Your Heart' please."
"Sure thing," the male attendant replies robotically, his fingers flying over the keys of his machine as Kendra releases the strap on her purse and fumbles for her phone.
<You're so slow!>
Almost in a panic, she unlocks her phone, opens up the cash app, and presses the phone to the scanner.
"Enjoy the show," the ticketer says, offering a practiced smile to Kendra.
"Thanks," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper as she tries to calm herself as she enters the lobby.
Moving through the sweat-smelling open room, passing like an unnoticed ghost, she makes her way to her seat.
"Please let this be a good one," Kendra thinks, craving the respite only a well-spun story can provide for her overly stressed and critical mind.
Jake picks up another oddity, a wooden box with a set of ancient runes carved into it this time. Turning it a bit does not show it to be of any particular interest.
Sighing, he puts it back. He was expecting some knockoff magic shop with cheap card tricks. Instead, he had found a shop full of pointless knickknacks. Growing bored, Jake considers leaving when a sharp chirp pierces the air, making him almost put his hands to his ears.
"Good heavens!" exclaims the shop owner, a hint of panic lacing his voice as he emerges from the back room and glances nervously at a brass clock perched over the shop's front door. Its hands dance erratically, as if possessed. "Young man, I must insist that you leave!"
"Was that a bird?" Jake asks, curiously despite the man's sudden urgency.
"Never mind that! Please, this way." The shopkeeper ushers him towards the front of the store, his movements hurried.
Jake hesitates, confused. Why was the old man so panicked and why was he being thrown out of this store.
The chirp sounds again, louder this time, its precise shots ricocheting off the walls. The shopkeeper nearly jumps out of his skin.
"Go, go!" The shopkeeper flaps his hands through the air as if trying to create a wind that could blow Jake out the front door. "You've seen enough mysteries today, so you must leave!"
"Alright, alright, I'm going," Jake concedes as confusion fills his mind as he turns toward the front door.
Another, nearly deafening, chirp fills the shop as the old man grabs Jake's arm and pulls him backward.
"This way, now!" the shopkeeper demands, his voice a tremulous command. Even more uncertain, Jake looks back at the man who's nearly dragging him toward the back of the shop. Not sure what to do now, Jake allows himself to be lead to a back door with an exit sign above it.
"Why exit this way and not out the front?" Jake asks.
"Trust me, lad," the shopkeeper murmurs, his hand trembling as he pushes the door open. "This is far safer for what's about to happen."
The door swings open, revealing not the alley Jake expects, but an ascending staircase, narrow and steep, its steps disappearing into a gloomy dark haze.
"Stairs?" Jake questions, "But these shops are only one story..."
"Sometimes what you see isn't all there is," the old man says cryptically, a hint of a smile flickering across his face despite the situation. He steps aside, urging Jake forward with his hand.
Jake stands rooted to the spot for a heartbeat, his mind grappling with the impossibility before him. The stairs beckon as if they hold the answer to something Jake can't ask.
"Are you going?" the shopkeeper nearly yells, breaking through Jake's reverie.
Shaking off the last of his hesitation, he takes a cautious step into the hallway and stops at the base of the stairs while the shopkeeper rushes in behind him and quickly closes the door behind him. Placing his palm to the door, the shopkeeper says something under his breath as a soft light envelopes the door before he steps away from it.
Before Jake can inquire into what the old man had done, a cacophonous explosion sounds from the other side of the door. The force that hits the door seems to travel into their hallway as Jake is hurled back into the staircase as the old man quickly follows landing on top of him like a brick.
"Too close!" the shopkeeper exclaims, his voice muffled by the high-pitched whine that fills Jake's ears.
"Are you okay?" Jake manages to gasp out, his concern for the old man momentarily eclipsing his own developing pains.
"Sturdier than I look," the man grumbles, pushing himself upright with a grunt. "But we mustn't tarry. I have people I must contact immediately!" Looking at Jake, he offers his hand to help him up.
Jake waves the offered hand away as he gets up on his own, rubbing the part of his back that had hit the stairs. <That'll bruise,> he thinks, <If it's still there tomorrow I'll know today happened...>. Looking up into the darkness, he decides there's no way but up as he starts to climb. <At least I found something interesting to fill my time...>
No matter how far they climb, there's only darkness ahead and now darkness behind them. Jake looks over his shoulder as he continues to climb and finally asks, "What happened in your shop?"
"If I said, 'Magic,' would you believe me?" The old man says almost jokingly through his otherwise melancholy mood.
"Great," Jake mutters under his breath, wondering if his professors would accept 'got caught in a magical explosion and fled up an infinite staircase' as a valid excuse for missing finals. Yet, as he continues this unending climb, there seems to be a growing feeling in his mind that he needs to get to the top.
"Almost there," the old man says, encouragingly.
"Good," Jake says through breaths as his legs are burning from the mountain they've climbed. After a few more steps a doorway does emerge from the gloom. Reaching out as he takes the last step, he turns the knob, and steps through.
A small sitting room is revealed to him as the old man hurries past him. Looking around, Jake sees the walls have wood paneling running from the floor to the ceiling. There's a bookshelf full of old tombs at the far end with a nicely appointed sitting chair next to it. To his right there's a large fireplace with a nice fire going. There are also two meticulously crafted, dark stained, wooden chairs flanking a small coffee table, that face the warm fire.
The shopkeeper gets to a door that's on the far wall next to the bookcase as he turns and says through heavy breaths, "I know you must have many question. Before I will answer them, I ask you to stay here as I go into another room to contact my associates."
"Sure," Jake says simply.
The old man hurries through the door, closing it behind him as Jake takes a seat next to the fire. <Questions?> he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes to recover from the miles of unexpected uphill exercise. <Maybe a few. Like where the heck am I!?>