pris and her search for the big bad wolf ][ please ask!

[Guest]

[ this thread is a please ask because of the location! ]

school for pris was a private school. small. less than a hundred students in each grade. the kind of school where students were required to take subjects that most other schools didn't even bother offering as electives. a place with lots of rules, where the teachers didn't even need to say 'shhh' in the halls because the students had learned on day one to just conduct all their business in secret whispers. where some of the students boarded because they came from very far away, but not pris. she came there each day by bus. and of course this was a school where they had a strict dress code that centered around very tasteful, conservative uniforms.

pris was the only student in the history of this school to be excused from wearing uniforms. in fact, priscilla grace ganesvoort was the only student in the history of this school to be excused from nearly all of its policies - to a degree within reason, of course. because of long meetings with her doctor and the headmaster. because of extra money exchanging hands for 'the trouble'. because in order to stay in her driver's seat, said the doctor, priscilla needed to do whatever admittedly strange rituals necessary to keep her focus at the highest level to ensure the best quality learning that her troubled brain could achieve. the administrators were so understanding. after all, the money that was exchanged had been placed in their own hands. it was the teachers who didn't agree. but who were told they had to agree. and for that reason, pris was the bane of the faculty's existence. and some of them had no problem letting the girl know that. if she was even capable of noticing in her little dream world, scoffed some of them to each other while they lounged in their teacher's room.

she was capable of noticing. and she did notice. pris was in fact noticing now, as she stood in one of the stacks of the schools very large very expensive library. it was very large and very expensive enough that the people in this area that lived close enough to the school and cared about books paid a special fee to be allowed to check out its books and to read here. a very special library indeed. was that why the librarian was looking at her like that? two eyes glaring at the misfit girl from over top of her computer monitor? how pris reacted to being stared at depended on the moment. right now it was making her itch and her fingers twitch. she wanted to grab one of the books off of the shelf and draw a big smiley face on each of the pages, just because she knew that's what the librarian's glare was saying she expected of her. sometimes people deserved what they expected. but today pris couldn't do that. because she really needed to be with these books without getting kicked out. for research.

a very smart person might be able to tell what kind of research just by looking at pris and how she was dressed. which may have been the second reason why the librarian was glaring. all the teachers did very much hate the fact that pris not only didn't wear uniforms, but that she dressed each day like, 'she's going to some costume party'. today the scornful comment in the teacher's lounge from her math teacher [who competed with her english teacher for the title of disliking her most of all] was, "what, is she trying to say life's just some kind of fairy tale now? someone should check that bag of hers. i'm serious. one version of that story involved an ax, and i wouldn't put it past her."

thank goodness they didn't actually do that, attempt to search in her bag. anyone who tried it would have gotten a really sore shin. besides, she didn't have an ax in there. because pris didn't remember the details of the story that well. it was one of the things she came here today to research. she just remembered the cloak and its hood. because they were in the title. and after her sleepover with duckthinks she spent her sunday wanting to research. but there was no school on sunday, which meant no library on sunday. so she made herself a cloak. on the outside it was just like hers, the girl in the story. all red, a nice hood, it was a nice cape soft to the touch that reached to the backs of her knees. but on the inside. the lining was very pris. a piece of silk she'd tye-dyed. it looked like an inkblot seen through eyes of a person that had just taken hallucinogenics. her dress was white, like a confirmation dress. pure in color, innocent in lace, young in design, with even a ribbon that tied around waist level. her socks the kind that little girls wore, white with lace at the tops, folded down. no tights for pris today. and her black mary janes which she'd polished before coming to school today. her hair she'd curled into ringlets. she'd woken up very early in the morning to do that. right now it was dyed black and the green strands at the front she'd pinned back with silver clips.

she was little red riding pris, and she was here doing very important research about the big bad wolf. about all big bad wolves. ever since donnie dropped that single word later that night the day she saw poof - the word which caused pris to make the very big important connection - she had to know more about poof, and his teeth, and their marks like the ones she saw when she stared at ryan. she just had to find which books those wolves were hiding in. the card catalog was for that, she knew that. but right now she was trying something better than a card catalog. she was standing in the middle of this stack of books and listening very, very hard. the tips of her fingers touching the spine of each book one by one as her emerald eyes stared at the titles on each jacket. to see if she could hear - or see - if any of those books howled.

her fingers stopped on one, head slowly tilting to the side. there was the word in the title - 'wolf'. grandmother what big teeth you have, pris' mind said to her. in reply pris' lips drew back into that snarl she made whenever she stared at benjamin's teeth, the same snarl face she'd made at the bitchwitch when she saw poof in her. carefully pris pulled the book of the shelf, trying to ignore that the librarian was watching her like an adult ready to pounce on a delinquent. she smoothed the cover of the book in her hands and took a quiet but deep breath. "who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf, big bad wolf." she murmured to herself. a slant of words she'd heard before somewhere said by someone. fingers fidgeted in nervous anticipation with the corner of the cover before she cracked the book open. then, little red riding pris flinched as she heard the book do just what she was looking for - howl.

[B.D. Adams]

She called him. Whether she knew it or not, Pris had called out to her ' aren't you ever a swashbuckler?’ Swashbuckler. Though it was not because she needed to be saved - at least, not in the physical sense.

From where he resided, doing things that were only known to him, Benjamin had heard her thoughts and smiled as they drifted to the topic of learning about the so-called 'big bad wolf." She had been doing a lot of thinking on it lately for he heard her thoughts drift to him a few times even if it was only in passing conversation. Could he read her mind? No. But he could hear any thoughts she had about him and whenever she would utter one of those names she had for him. How else would he be able to do what he said and come when she called?

This synaptic connection, as it were, had been put in place when he so caringly had let those tendrils of warmth wash over her the other day. She never questioned the warmth or what he might have truly been doing; she simply accepted it because the warmth was something she needed. It was non evasive and, as the warmth had settled about her, the connection had been placed. Pris had never asked and Benjamin never told although, he had wondered why she had so easily accepted the fact that he would come to her.

It was with this connection – which was much stronger than the one he had from the pastels - that he was able to find her. This connection did not reply on sensing where she was, but he could travel along the wave of thought and reach her exact location. This is what he did.

A school. He had long ago given up on keeping track of school days and the hours that students kept for he rarely entered into those facilities unless there was a reason. Too many people. While he did walk through crowds it was not his favorite thing to do. Schools were also very tempting places. Full of ripe souls that were fresh for picking. Alas, he was not here to sample young delicacies, he was here for Pris.

Benjamin moved through the school without being seen though he saw, and heard, things perfectly. It would do to argue if he was really there at all or, as he has done in times past, was simply watching from his private location.

Entering the library he took a look around and saw his target dressed in something that certainly brought a smile to his lips. Did he really need more reason to eat and swallow her whole? The outfit said it all and perhaps he should reach through space and place a basket of goodies on one of the tables? Though that would be to the ill of the librarian. Maybe he should. It might get her upset and give Benjamin more reason to end her life aside from the fact that he didn't like the look she was giving Pris.

Later.

His attention turned back to Pris and he saw her look at a particular book, a odd type of recognition on her face. She must have found what she wanted. From his experiences with her, he gathered that maybe she had heard the book speak. Going off of this assumption he had an idea.

As Pris held the book it would most certainly talk to her. No eyes or mouth appeared but a voice slightly raspy from un-use, came from within the book.

"I only have so many answers to your questions."

[Guest]

heroes came when called. that's why priscilla grace didn't bat a pretty eyelash when he said he would come when called, too. boom came when he was called. so did her most precious hero brother dommy, even though she had to call him the old-fashioned telephone way. even her statue lady had come to calm, coddle and protect her in the cemetery from fred and the zoo creature before pris had opened her mouth and called. and trying-to-be-swashbuckler poof had come when she called once already, he and his taxi...

...to the rescue? that's what maker poof had said it was that night. and again in the forest, pointing out how nicely he had put her colors on the backseat where they could wait for her. but it was dommy who reminded her that she'd called for a hero that night to save her from poof. that unlike the day with the painting, pris hadn't liked benjamin coming to her rescue with his taxi. that unlike the day with the painting, when benjamin mentioned that he could take all her fears away she didn't like the fact he'd mentioned that word one bit. somehow the day of the painting the rules had changed. and everything seemed different.

so what had changed, between the night of the cinderella ball and the day of the painting? that is what her mind kept asking every time she thought about how pirate poof had painted her as a fearless unfading sky. it was like the portrait was whispering the question inside her - even though it was still covered up and sleeping in doctor duckthinks room. so it couldn't be the portrait. it was just her mind. her stupid stupid fixating mind that always repeated questions like mocking birds. and every time she gave it the same three answers. she'd met the bitchwitch. she saw poof's teethmarks all over her. and she'd had a very terrible week where people all turned out to be like everyone else [besides the beautiful statue lady, but the problem with statue ladies was that at the end of the day they had to go back to being statues, didn't they?]. those were the answers she gave. but just like night of the cinderella ball it didn't seem the answers were good enough. because her mind kept asking.

that was the reason little red riding pris was here. to see if the answer had something to do with big bad wolves. emerald eyes shift shift shifting over words of this book called 'the wolf, the witch, the way: fairy tale antagonists unraveled' as she listened to the pages howl.

at first. they only howled at first.

before the pages spoke. when the voice cracked off the pages pris shrieked and the book was dropped to the floor where it landed in a position that was certainly not good for its spine. pris didn't have to look at the librarian. she already knew the woman's lips were doing that thing they did. pressing tight like the librarian was ironing her anger out of them. or into them. and that's exactly what the older woman was doing, with a posture that said she had half a mind to get up or tell this horrid child that it was time for her to go home.

pris knew what she should do. pick the book up, show old beady eyes that she was treating it nicely, and sit down with it at a table to read. but that's what you did with normal books that didn't speak. and this one spoke. so pris had to do something else. something the librarian would like even less. and that meant dealing with old beady eyes first. pris' emerald eyes snapped to meet the older woman's narrow gaze, and pris didn't do her normal eye darting ping pong. no, the eccentric girl stared the woman dead on as she handed old beady the verdict. "you want me tell you i got a paper cut. or some other little lie painted white that'll make you feel better because at least i'm trying to be like everyone else. but i don't have a paper cut. or any little lies in my pocket painted white. so i won't. how do you even know what you see is real anyway? there are birds living in your seeing sockets, and even now they say cheep cheep cheep. nest." she shot that accusation at the older woman before turning her warped gaze to the floor. to look at the book at her feet.

and pris ignored the fact that old beady with birds in her sockets got up and snapped up the receiver to the telephone. instead pris focused on kneeling down to carefully pick up the fallen collection of pages as if she wondered each one was looking to bite. maybe the librarian knew something about papercuts and where they came from that pris didn't. still kneeling, pris cautiously set the book on tops of her thighs. she took a very deep breath and tried not to think about what she just saw when she stared at the librarian - the nesting birds, and...the other things pris was smart enough not to mention. "the book the book the who's afraid of the big bad wolf," she said that under her breath to herself as a reminder. as an attempt to help her mind focus again without having to recite poetry. and she repeated that, "the book the book the who's afraid of the big bad wolf," as she opened the it down the middle. holding it open with the very tips of her nails. just in case.

and while the librarian was distracted with making her angry phone call about "this unruly child who's tossing around insults while she's tossing around my books," pris bent her head as low as she could and said to the book softly, "book. you're only supposed to howl. not talk."

[B.D. Adams]

That couldn't have been good for the book, to be dropped on the floor in that manner. Good thing Benjamin only projected his voice into the book. Not that such a fall would have done him any considerable damage - or any at all - but it was the principle.

Words were being spoken and he was listening and watching (Benjamin, not the book). Pris' tone was angry, or in the very least upset, and her very pointed words that followed after the book had fallen was directed to the unfortunate librarian. Unfortunate because Benjamin already had very little regard for her and now he could look upon what he was about to do to her as being justified. He hardly needed a reason for anything he did but sometimes having one worked to his benefit.

Pris even dictated what was going to happen.

One of the first things Benjamin had learned was the ability to manipulate a persons mind, getting in there and making them bend to your will. When he first began to use this talent he had to have physical contact in order to make a connection, that then advanced to where he had to be in the same room, and then it got to the point where he could be wherever he wanted - like now. It wasn't something that was learned and mastered in a few weeks or even a handful of months. No. This took many a year and even now he would not be so boastful to call himself a master of this particular skill. Every mind was different and this particular skill, used in this particular way, relied on one of the things he loved: a person’s malice and fear.

The librarian certainly held a degree of malice towards Little Red and that is what he used. Pulling on that thought he started to shift her way of thinking. ‘There are birds living in your seeing sockets’ that's what Pris had said, and even as the older lady ran off at the mouth to whomever was on the other end of the phone, Benjamin was fixing an image in her mind of a flock of small, wild birds suddenly rushing into the library through the door. They circled around the room once then made straight for the librarians face and hair as they sought to claw out her eyes and take roost inside of her head.

For the unfortunate victim of his humor all aspects would appear real, from the sound, sight, and even the feel. She would be the only one to see the apparitions. When any of the illusionary birds made contact against her skin (this woman was sane enough to use her hands to guard against the oncoming attack right?) there would be marks from the birds. Real marks that anyone could see. The goal and mission of the birds was the destruction of the lady and they would continue to attack her - picking apart at her skin and seeking to pull out her eyes - until their job was done.

Now, back to the book.

What reaction would Pris have to the librarian, who was probably screaming or carrying about in some ghastly manner? To amuse her - or perhaps to get her attention if it had been lost - the book howled. It started bass and rose to baritone before fading. "Better? Unless you speak Wolf then our conversation is best had in English."

The book's speech was rather dry, it was a book after all and the pages were not wet. Maybe the book was oblivious to anything that was happening in the room for it made no comment about anything other than what was directed to it.

Besides, it didn't have eyes.

[Guest]

the librarian was most certainly sane enough, and even more than that she had a rather heaping spoonful of self-preservation within that haughty personality of hers. so much so that she was even about to sell out her lifelong loves - her books - in order to try to save herself. the phone receiver fell with a clatter as she grabbed up two book off her counter. the first two she could snatch up, old beady eyes was now shrieking words that were less than lady-like at the top of her lungs as she tried to beat off these imaginary birds that only she could see, hear and feel. including one word in particular in a tone that probably hadn't been heard since the infamous salem trials of another realm - "WITCH!"

that word, and every other this unraveling woman now screamed with all the breath in her lungs and indignance in her soul, was surely heard by whomever she had called to complain about pris. because the phone, remember, had been left off the hook.

did pris put that 2 + 2 together, as her green eyes slowly lifted from the book to stare at the source of the shrieking? that wasn't clear, at least not yet. because as pris tilted her head slowly to the side and watched the woman's futile struggle with an eeriely neutral quiet, there was another connection that her mind thought it much more important to make. witch. "the wolf, the witch, the way....the wolf, the witch, the...wolf. oh. oh. oh." pris' eyes suddenly got very wide as her gaze snapped down to stare at the book which was still nestled safely in her lap. first that book had howled, that was the wolf. now the librarian was screaming about a witch. to pris' skewed mind which made the oddest of connections, that meant only one thing.

"the witch. got out. the witch got out the witch got out." she repeated it to herself, not caring enough to speak the words loud enough so that the librarian could hear pris over her shrieking. why bother? old beady eyes was the one who seemed to see the witch first, even if the librarian didn't know like pris where the witch had come from. no, pris was repeating that to herself, which meant that the eccentric girl agreed with her mind that witch was the most important thing to focus on right now. "the witch got out the witch got out..." she said over and over as she slowly picked herself up to her feet, green eyes darting here there and everywhere as she was trying to spot said witch. what did a witch look like? pris didn't know, and she wasn't about to ask the librarian. because at this point, old beady eyes had thrown the books at said birds and was now trying to run. to run and to slam herself into walls and book shelves and anything she could to shake the birds off of her, her screams now wordless and just conglomerations of nonsense sound.

and pris was frozen like a statue where she stood, holding the book in both hands. watching the librarian fall prey to what pris knew was inside of her all along. which is why pris wasn't surprised to see this happening. she knew that what was inside people came to get them in the end, like a bogyman waiting under the bed for the right moment to spring. what was inside her grandmother had gotten her. and her dad, his bogyman got him. and pris. she knew her bogyman would one day come for her too. and that's the path her mind began to walk, away from witches as she started to slip out of her driver's seat and thoughts turned into nothing more than raining pills and buildings made out of pillows which opened to spill rope -

when the howl snapped her back. a jerk of her head, her eyes blinking rapidly as she inhaled with a quick intake of breath, like she forgot to breathe. her eyes were wide, her lips were slightly parted in an 'o' shape, and there was an air of bewildered curiosity about her like she'd just fallen through a rabbit hole. it was the look that benjamin had painted of her in his portrait - the question was, was she mimicking that look now or was the expression truly genuine? as the book spoke to her, she slowly bent her head to look down at it. her eyes focused on the book as if the whole object was what she was supposed to focus on instead of the words. sort of like how when you look at a person you look at their whole face, and not just the freckle on their cheek.

"our conversation..." her voice was an echo, containing faint hints of a mimic of the book's dry tone. strange how her young girlish voice was able to find means to mirror the more guttural rumble of this tome. she looked away from the book as she watched the librarian fall to her knees a short distance away, hitting herself against the floor now like she was trying to commit an act of a flagellant. it was a gruesome picture, but pris didn't seem deeply affected, and her eyes darted away simply because that's what her eyes always did. "the wolf. the witch. the way. which way. which way is the way. when they come she's going to try to call me a bitchwitch. and i'm not." that last word was spat hotly from pris' lips. she did not want anyone labeling her anything close to what de'ryanna was, or more precisely how pris interpreted de'ryanna to be.

"book." now her tone was demanding, as pris started to walk. cradling the book in one arm, she snatched up her big black shoulder bag with the other. she was going out the back doors. she knew better. she knew better than to go anywhere near the librarian, because when they got here they were going to investigate. and so long as she didn't go near old beady eyes they couldn't say she had anything to do with it. this school knew everything her doctor knew. they knew she was no magic maker.

her steps were quick as she used her shoulder to bump one of the back doors open, slipping out and going down the empty hall to leave the disturbed librarian behind. "book," she repeated that same demanding tone. "which is the way?" because somewhere in pris' warped, eccentric mind acting out the title of the book would make this whole mess disappear.

[B.D. Adams]

The events that ensued after Benjamin placed the illusion in the Librarians mind was delightful and he couldn't help but smile. It couldn't have gone better if he had orchestrated it himself. But wait, he did, didn't he? In a sense?

Either way it worked.

As for Pris, her reaction to the lady was one that he enjoyed. It showed him that she wasn't too surprised by the things she believed to be true and that she could continue in a task even amongst distractions. How very interesting. Sometimes, even when people believed in something they were still surprised to see it with their own eyes. Then again, the two of them had already established that she was different and therefore, he wasn't surprised at all.

The Librarian, she was bound to start bleeding from a self-inflicted wound or knock herself to an unconscious state soon. What then, Benjamin wondered from his secret place as he watched the unfolding scene, would be Pris' standing at the school once they heard what had happened? People had a habit of taking bits and pieces of information and twisting them into a convoluted fact. Unless this matter was quickly, and quietly hushed - and if no passerby happened to witness the events - could be prevented from becoming the latest edition of the schools rumor mill.

Would the Librarian be freed from her illusion before it killed her? What other minds could he inflict and plant his own imaginings before he sought amusement elsewhere? The answers to those questions were unknown, all except for the last. If he wanted to take over the entire student body he could, fortunately for them he wasn't here for simple amusement.

The reaction Little Red had to the boisterous cry of "Witch" did not exactly fit into his overall scheme and was slightly less than amusing. Humorous, yes. Amusing, no. While he did not have a fully developed plan when he chose to play in this game, the plan he had been developing would have to change. It did not matter. As a predator, one had to be adaptable if they were wanting to catch elusive prey.

He could, and would, adapt. Besides, sometimes when plans changed, they changed for the better.

"The Witch," despite the fray of events the words that came from the book were still just as dry as when she first had heard them. "The Witch for which to see and will soon come after thee. Which way you seek I cannot see, but call for the Wolf; set him free! Wolf and Witch are enemies, he knows best how to save thee."

What more could be expected from a book? It only knew of the things written inside it's pages or the things it was told. The book could not analyze a situation and give directions for it couldn't see what went on. If it had eyes surly it would have told Pris the best way to leave the school, including when to duck and when to walk especially swift in order to keep away from any that would grab her.

She was trying to escape - had said so herself - and the book had searched its pages and found the way.

"Help me, help you escape the Witch. Circle 'round and hold me tight, call forth the Wolf and you his teeth won't bite."

[Guest]

the librarian. for pris, when it came to most people out of sight was out of mind so long as her mind wasn't fixated on a question and asking the girl for an answer over and over. now the librarian was out of sight and the only things pris' mind was fixated on were the open book in her hands and what was 'the way'.

but that didn't mean the librarian was out of sight for everyone. there were a lot of people who were about to be in sight of the librarian. people who would be concerned and horrified that something like this happened in a school of such pristine caliber. people who would ask the librarian questions and try to soothe and still her in her traumatized and frantic state. people who would come to take her away and treat all of the things that seemed to be ailing her, mental as well as physical. and finally people who would come to search and clean up the library who would work very hard at making sure that by the time morning rolled around no one would be able to tell that anything besides matters to do with books had happened in there at all. the librarian left the school alive - on a stretcher, but alive. whether or not she remained that was really up to whether her seeing socket birds flew after her or if old beady eye's bogeyman went back under the bed.

was it because pris was afraid of the coming people that she was walking down the hall so quickly, or was she worried that the witch was going to follow? if she wasn't worried about the witch before she certainly was when the book opened its 'mouth' and spoke those very words. "the witch the witch the witch the witch," pris repeated under her breath very softly while the book started its rhymes. she skidded to a halt far down the hallway near the back stairs and an exit which took students to all the sports fields. the frazzled girl spun around to face the library doors, her red riding hood cape belling around her in a swoosh. her emerald eyes ping ponged between those distant double doors and the book in her hands. like she was trying to be prepared in case the witch came flying out.

circle round and hold me tight, call forth the wolf and his teeth won't bite. the book's last words stuck in her mind and repeated like the poems her doctor made her memorize to give her something to help keep her in the driver's seat. pris made a lemon face, even stuck her tongue out far and frustrated before pulling it back in her mouth and shifting from one foot to the other with a high-pitched whine. so many thoughts going crash boom together in her head. her last conversation with poof. her last conversation with donnie. the conversation with dommy later that night. i think i'm lonely when you and duck are at work, dommy. that's what she'd said to her brother when he told her he was confident she'd do the right thing. the right thing. the right thing. her mind wanted to know - what was the right thing?

circle round and hold me tight, call forth the wolf and his teeth won't bite. teeth, grandmother what big teeth. after the whine pris drew her lips back into that soundless snarl face she always made when poof showed his teeth. well, it had been soundless up until now because before she spoke she made sound that was very literally "grrrrrr" with a hint of snarl. and she even stamped her foot. twice. and then she started to rhyme back to the book "double double boil and bubble; talking book wants to get me in trouble," said with the same petulant tone she'd used for her whine. "double trouble boil but-poof; i didn't know was a big bad woof. how can book name him to call; when book knows antagonists aren't good at all." in her childish way pris was imploring the book. to do what?

"a sky can never be touched for it is above all," she murmured as she waited for the book to answer. shifting her weight back and forth in an undecided fidget as she looked between the door and the back exit and the book. options one, two and three. her foot gave another stamp and she added in a stubborn mutter, "they may witches may old beady may try to pollute me but i'm sky i remain untouched." all things poof had said to her when she saw him last to give her the portrait of the sky that never faded and never feared. a firm nod and then she looked back down at the book, to see what it had to say about that.

[DrDonaldBlake]

"Listen Lady, There is no reason to be rude. Yes, I am a real doctor, but no I am not her real doctor. Her brother got tied up at work and asked that i come down to pick her up to make sure she got home ..."

Said Doctor Donald Blake. as he limped along beside the school administrator who was walking rather purposely fast down the hall. maybe trying to exert her both powerful legs over his only one good leg. who knows. "All I'm asking you to do is page her to the office or something. so I know where she is?"

And when she started to walk even faster Donald just stopped." You know, I know the cure for that! but I wouldnt be able to talk about it in front of the kids here..." and then he shook his head, looking down a hall, and heading down it." Damn woman just bitter because I didn't oogle her chest.... Excuse me! I'm looking for Priscilla Ganesvoort. have you seen her?" hobbling along on his stick after another teacher looking person.

[B.D. Adams]

Benjamin watched it all in amusement from where he was, even taking a moment to sit back and recline in his chair. No matter how this installment of the story ended he had been amused and he broke a bit more ground. Of course, if this hadn't proved to provide him with a touch of amusement, he would not have bothered.

The Librarian was the consolation prize for he had been able to successfully tap into her mind with minimal effort. He would let her live and only cause the illusion to last as long as needed to either get Pris, or the Librarian, out of the school. If the lady happened to salvage her career at private institution it would be to his benefit for he would then have someone he could use as permanent eyes and ears.

Enough of that for now. Pris was moving and Benjamin’s view of the interior of the school was becoming all the more clearer since she was clutching the book closely. The book was working as a semi-conduit, nothing that would last long and he was working under the assumption that Pris knew the layout of the school. If she knew it, he knew it, but only momentarily. How else would he be able to tell her where to go if he didn’t know the layout? He might send her into a brick wall by mistake.

She had asked the book a question, and now he would respond. "Wolf and Witch antagonist they are, but in each bout only one can be the star. One to win and one to loose. Who is the victor? You get to choose."

Wise words really for maybe it will tell her, in a subtly way, that sometimes you had to pick between the lesser of two evils. Admittedly people hardly ever saw him as the lesser.

In his growing scope of the school grounds, as the book went quiet, he noticed something. He was not the only one with designs for Pris., How interesting this was. Here was the same man who had come to ‘rescue’ the girl a time before. When Benjamin factored in this man’s relation to Pris and that of one of his others – he knew the man has spoken to the female wolf – Doctor Donald Blake was steadily working his way up on the list. And, if a person reached high enough, they warranted a visit.

The Doctor was looking for Pris, and Pris was looking for answers. Answers can be found in books. Would it not be to his benefit for the book to lead Little Red to a ‘hero’ that she trusted? The simple act could make her more susceptible to listening to what the book says. It was a gamble, but even if it failed there would be more opportunities.

“In every story, in every tale, a surprising twist emerges without fail.” He saw the direction the doctor was coming. “Go forward with haste and do not wait. Take the risk, and go right with a leap of faith.” Those were the directions if she was able to interpret it correctly. He was telling her to go straight and then to turn right. As he could see it, that was the path that would cause Pris and the Doctor to cross paths.

Though it was directions, the book could have easily been talking about taking a risk with the Witch or the Wolf.

[Guest]

the librarian's future with the school was a mystery for another day. except for the school administrator who'd rushed down the hall as she was chased by one of pris' most precious heroes. that administrator really hadn't been paying much attention to donnie, the doctor was right about that. as he gave chase she'd recited with haste the proper protocol for when a visitor came into the school asking after one of its students, but there was a reason for her haste. there was a situation, a loud disturbing situation that needed to be dealt with. between where doctor duck stopped chasing her and the administrator's ultimate destination there was only a short distance. close enough that if precious donnie paid attention to where she disappeared before turning to that other teacher, he'd notice where she went. the library. above the doors it said so clearly in large lettering. and if duckthinks was really paying attention, he might hear the commotion coming from in there.

and that second 'teacher looking person' that donnie duck tried to stop? it was bad luck for him, doctor donnie would probably realize that the moment he said he was looking for priscilla ganesvoort. because when he said that name the man's face entirely changed to the kind of expression one made when they smelled something so foul that their stomach turned. of all people in the school for donald to ask, he happened to stop one of the eccentric teenager's biggest 'enemies' - her english teacher. at least the encounter would be relatively painless, because lord knows the teacher wasn't about to dally talking about 'that girl'. he didn't even stop walking as he answered, "thankfully, no. i suggest you follow the vice principal to the source of the screaming. nine times out of ten that one's involved." that one. such a tight tone in his voice when he used that phrase. her english teacher pulled out his car keys, and headed to the nearest exit.

cut to pris, whining. the usual sound, the usual pitch, the usual lengthy length which ended only when her lungs ran out of air. she couldn't wring her hands because she had the book in them, so all she could do was shift her weight back and forth in that manner which rang of a small child having to go to the bathroom. she didn't have to go to the bathroom, but honestly she kind of wished she did. if this was all as simple as going to the bathroom and not about witches wolves and ways, well that would be nice. and it was that thought which made her stop fidgeting long enough to say, "you know what book? - this isn't cool. things like this aren't supposed to happen in school." the way she said it was scolding and almost defiant. like she expected the book to do something about it. bad book, bad.

that was her choice. she wasn't going to choose. because like she said, things like this weren't supposed to happen, and if something wasn't supposed to happen surely you're not supposed to do anything if it does? she and the rest of the students were taught what to do if there was a fire by having fire drills. if only they were told what to do if a book talked to them and had drills about that, she wouldn't be stuck right now.

stuck stuck stuck, until the book told her of the twist. then she was a different kind of stuck - a wide-eyed panic slack-lipped worried kind of stuck. her head snapped up, looking down the hallway that was the forward the book told her to walk in haste. she didn't even let book finish its sentence before she was protesting with a broken record, "but but but but but but..." but what? but there was one problem with that risk and leap of faith. down the hall and to the right, that was the hallway that housed the front entrance of the library. which is where pris hadn't exited on purpose, because she knew that people were probably coming who would say that she was in trouble. or worse, people who would say she was a witch, or a bitchwitch, or both.

pris was now taking two steps forward and two steps back. like a docked boat rocking on water. trying to do what the book said but losing courage as she kept saying her but-but-buts, until she finally managed to push past them and tell the book the rest of her thought. "but but but that makes me twitch, people'll be waiting there to call me witch." there was a lot in her voice as she urgently spoke that to the book - nervousness, pleading and a little bit of wounded hurt. that she might be told that she was a witch, or that she might be blamed for what happened to old beady eyes, or that she was possibly going to get in any kind of trouble at all filled the girl with more than anger and indigence. it gave her a heart-hurting sadness too.

but she would try. she would see. and if things didn't look like they'd turn out good she'd have time to turn around, maybe. "risk to take faith of leap, if you're wrong you i won't keep." did this odd girl threaten to ditch this book and make it take care of its own witch if it gave her bad advice? yes she did! she hissed that ultimatum quietly at the open tome as pris rather comically crept down the hall in the direction it told her to. bent low and walking on tiptoe, she pressed herself against the wall so that when she reached where this hall and the cross hall met she could peep covertly around the corner. hopefully without being seen by anyone.

so if the book told the truth and her most precious donnie was looking in the right direction, he would see the tell tail peep of pris' head up to her nose sneaking around the corner of the hall. why didn't she see him first? because she'd squeezed her eyes shut. she was actually afraid to look. maybe she thought she was going to get snatched up like a criminal and taken away to a room with only pillows for walls.

[DrDonaldBlake]

"Hey buddy, you might want to watch your step there." this guy had his nose so high int he air that the prickish teacher wouldnt see donald swinging his walking stick out to catch his leg, sending the man tumbling into a wall, banging his nose against a fire hydrant.

Donald knelt down best he could so he could see the teachers face." oo, that looks like it may be broken... I'd go see the nurse... and uh, as a teacher you should really watch out what you say about the students here... never know if someone from the board of education will come around..." and he pushed up on his walking stick, with a nice charming smile, walking with a bit of a swager now, eyes catching a closed eye pris leaning, peering around the corner.

"there she is!" he exclaimed, starting towards her faster."Prissy, Little red riding hood, Dommie asked me to come pick you up from school... we can take a shortcut through the woods on the way back home..."

[Guest]

[since i moved prissy forward in time, i wanted to give this an ending but make it so the conversation with the book could finish in the future!]

that voice. she knew that voice. it caused all sorts of butterflies in her stomach and gave her an urge to tap on the wall between her apartment and his even when it was very very late at night. it was her duck. her most precious doctor donnie the duck. her hero had come to save her...or had he? maybe she was imagining it, because her eyes were closed, and the possibility that when she'd open them he might not be there was enough to make her release another one of those whining sounds and shift her weight. it wasn't until she heard steps and his voice coming closer that she got the courage to open her eyes. he was there! the eccentric teen lunged forward, closing the short distance between the two of them as she threw the arm that wasn't holding the book to her chest around him, clinging tightly. "they're going to call me a bitchwitch, donnie, old beady eyes is going to tell them so and i didn't do anything, i just opened this book and all the sudden the title started to come true right after the birds that live in old beady's eye sockets started to show her who's boss and i don't want to be a bitchwitch, i'm not." all of that was muffled and said very very fast as she pressed against him so hard it was like she wanted to hide in him like a closet.

and he wrapped both arms around her, offering a squeeze, the hand not holding his walking stick reaching up to pet at her hair- calm down prissy calm down. we know you're not a bitch witch and we also know that old beady eyes is the one who is the bitch witch." did he know who she was talking about, probably not but he was being calming

"i can't calm down there's no calm calm is not something that is it's an isn't!!" pris insisted that with a shrill little shriek, her tone somehow loud and soft at the same time, half yelled and half hissed. she pulled back to insist it too, her emerald green eyes landing right smack on donald's pretty blue ones. he had nice person eyes, ones that were safe to look into even for a long time. and she liked looking into them very much, but now was not the time for thoughts like that. she was tugging on him now, her arm trying to pull him forwards as she stepped backward, trying to pull him around the corner that she'd been peeping from because there was an exit down that hallway which was away from the library. or more away than they were right now, at least. "calm doesn't like bitchwitches and old beadys and real witches and wolves and adults who're going to blame blame blame all over me until i turn red what if i don't rise up like sky like poof said i would above all their pointing fingers donnie what's going to happen then!!!" she was panicking, practically, as she yanked him back. with the open book squashed up to her chest like it was it wasn't being given the opportunity to say very much. or if it was trying to say something, it was too muffled to be heard. hopefully that book really didn't have eyes.

Then you'll just be prissy ... and you'll be down here with me, and dommie... and we'll protect you from all of that, keeping you safe, " he said softly as he followed her leading. allowing her to pull him off and after her." I'll make sure pris that they wont be able to blame you for anything when it wasn't your fault.

"just be prissy." it was grumble scoffed. "just be prissy!" louder grumble scoffed. as if he was the one who was crazy between the two of them. but that was the point, she wasn't crazy either. there was a chemical imbalance that skewed things for her, but she wasn't what the worst of the adults here painted her out to be. and what would those adults do now, now that old beady's bogeymen had come to claim her as all bogeymen eventually did? old beady would say she was there. and use the 'w' word. she wanted to be far far away when all of that happened which is why she was dragging him down the hall and out the door. her mind was fixated on getting out of the building. on getting far away. not a single scrap of attention was paid to the book. it hadn't even occurred to her yet that she'd taken it from the library without checking it out first. "i wish i wish they'd let me just be prissy wouldn't they learn something then if i could be just that!" it was hard to tell what exactly she meant by those words, but on the final that she kicked the bar of the heavy metal door with her foot so it flew open and she dragged him out of there. this was the entrance that lead to the back parking lot and the sports fields. once they were outside and the door was shut behind them she stopped and looked expectantly at donnie. he was the one picking her up from school, so what now?

yeah, yeah I suppose it would be that then wouldn't it?" said with a small smile. and he gave her another smile, leaning onto his walking stick, looking around." There is a taxi waiting up, well, it was around the front where i came in. do you know how to get around there so that we can get out of here and then go get some french fries. and a cheeseburger?"

when he said taxi, boy would pris' eyes get wide! her jaw went slack too, and her color even drained a little bit as she felt her stomach twist and turn into all kinds of complicated knots. "tax -..." she couldn't even finish the word, she swallowed the final 'i' with a gulp instead and shifted her weight back and forth as her eyes darted between the way to the front of the school and the door they'd just come out of. there was a taxi out front, really? why did it have to be a taxi, of all things. one of those soft high pitched whines came from her before she finally asked, "it's not his taxi is it? poof's. because i...i didn't call even though the book told me i should..." there it was again, that nervous little dance of her weight back and forth that looked like the pee-pee dance as she looked at donnie with lots of worry in her eyes.

no no no, its my taxi, the one i rode here, I don't have a license to drive out here, nor do i really own a car you know- he said with a prod, smiling still and reaching forth to offer her his hand. come on, lets not keep her waiting pris. well that and I am a little hungry. I promise prissy its not poofs taxi. and you where good not to call him like the book told you you should

pris took his hand, an automatic gesture. and she waited, expecting him to lead them to his taxi. but then she remembered he'd asked her to take them in the direction where the front of the school was, and pris started forward in that direction like she was on autopilot. her eyes staring straight ahead even though they weren't really focused on anything in particular - not even where she was going. she knew the path well enough that she didn't have to pay attention, and besides donnie would tug her one way or the other if there was something or someone in their way. so pris was staring off into space as she thought about that book, saying distractedly in reply to doctor duck, "yes. yes yes yes." yes she was good to not call on poof even though the book told her she should, but the book had also told her to take a leap of faith and that leap had lead her to her hero. so what did that mean about the rest of the things the book had said? that the witch was going to come after her? that the wolf knew best how to save her? that his teeth wouldn't bite? that she had to choose? and what about the very first thing the book said, 'i only have so many answers to your questions'? pris' head dropped as she looked down at the book still pressed open against her chest. slowly she moved her arm so it would drop forward, and she listen to see what it would have to say. it didn't say a thing. she frowned.

and then when they got into the sight of the taxi donald waved his walking stick above him to which the taxi pulled over and stopped right in front of them, pulling the back door open, and giving priss a tug down into the car." now then are you hungry too?- asked before donald walked around the car to climb into the door on the other side of the car." head back towards the clinic, I'll let you know where else we're going.

more questions. 'are you hungry too?' added on to the pile of them, though that was the only one right now that didn't have to with a book. each of the questions was banging in her head like it's own separate drum with its own separate beat, and it was enough to make her squeeze her eyes closed once she was nice and settled in the taxi. she leaned against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder with a soft thunk. it had been a very long day at school, and she wished that tomorrow was saturday so she didn't have to go back the next day. but it was only tuesday, and she had a math test to take tomorrow. math was her very worst subject, too. "yes," she added to her string of yesses she'd made just before. she wasn't really hungry, but it seemed like the easiest thing to do right now while her head was swimming. agreeing was easy. a little whimpering noise as she rubbed her forehead against his shoulder and curled up closer. when she sat down in the taxi she'd plunked the book down in her lap, and the one decision she did make based on all those questions in her head was to close it firmly. just in case there were any more wolves witches or ways that wanted to escape, this way they wouldn't. but the book was going to come home with her, and she was going to have a talk with it someday when she was brave enough. because she knew that the answers she gave her mind to this questions were going to be the wrong ones, just to shut her nagging mind up for now, and that the book was the only one with the real answers.

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