Page 2 of Unbinding the Demon
-Five Years Later-
“Anthro... podermic... bibliopegy,” I mumbled to myself as I ran my pale fingers over the tattered brown spine of a dusty manuscript. The book was tucked away among a plethora of other weathered and neglected volumes, hidden on the shelves of the library’s unfrequented right wing.
“Finally!” I whispered in excitement upon finding a book covering the topic I needed. The other books eagerly filled the space after I wrangled it off the shelf, making it appear as if it had never been there at all. I popped open the yellowed pages, giving it a quick peek.
While glancing over the morbid details, a chill crept up my spine. A strange feeling arose within me, one which indicated that I wasn’t alone. It felt as though an eerie presence had entered the room. The hairs on my arms rose to attention, and my heart rate sped up. The book closed with a soft thump while I warily turned around to take in the dim aisle. No one was there except a spindly little spider chilling on a cobweb in the corner. Yet it felt as though someone was watching me.
Weird.
My emerald green eyes shifted around while I pushed a strand of my long chestnut hair behind my ear. The feeling lingered, so I decided it was about time to peace the flip out of this spooky place. Aged floorboards groaned beneath the threadbare carpeting as I made my way out of the right wing.
The atmosphere changed from soul-suckingly sinister to warm and welcoming the moment I was back in the main room. Rays of golden afternoon sun poured through large windows, outlined by decorative wooden panes. They exquisitely gilded the archaic aesthetics of the place, setting it alight with an ethereal glow.
The outer architecture of the library was beautifully constructed using large stones and had been inspired by the Castello di Miramare in Italy. On the inside, it was lined with finely carved dark oak and cedar detailing the archways, railings, and stairwells. Elegant paintings adorned the cathedral ceilings, and the smell of old books and cedar permeated the air. It was beautiful, the kind of place I normally couldn't get enough of, yet I had hoped to avoid it because of the painful memories it brought to the surface.
My hand glided along the railing as I peered down at the maze of bookshelves and the empty checkout desk on the lower level. I then plopped myself back down at one of the large wooden tables, dropping the heavy book on top of my pile of notes. The early autumn sun had begun to hang low over the horizon, casting its evening light over the side of my face. I stared out the window to enjoy the view before packing up my things. There was a winding stream, with a small man-made waterfall cascading over a few flat rocks. A variety of trees cast dancing patches of shade over the sparkling water, stretching their webs of branches up into the skyline with just the faintest hint of autumn colors kissing their leaves. I loved autumn and always got excited to see the first signs of it.
While I was off in la-la-land, an enormous figure swiftly slipped into the seat across from me. Their looming silhouette eclipsed the rays of light, casting a cold shadow over my face that felt more like a foreboding premonition. I glanced over, and my heart did a flip in my chest, causing me to nearly fall right out of my goddamn chair.
Holy smokes!
Seated before me was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes upon in all of my pathetic and miserable life. Raven-black hair flowed around his masculine, downright ethereal face and cascaded halfway down the length of his torso. His jawline was sharp enough to slice me right in two and dusted with the perfect amount of stubble. Just below that jawline was a demonic skull tattoo covering his neck, but I couldn’t see the entire thing. Everything he wore on his large muscular frame, from his jacket down to his boots, was solid black. He was super tall, too. He appeared like the kind of guy who was a bit rough around the edges. Like one who’d spent several years riding around on a souped-up motorcycle, living a life of crime before coming back here to straighten out his nefarious ways. But hell, I didn’t care. He was hot!
What truly mesmerized me were his eyes, though. They glittered a beautiful amber-gold color, mirroring the golden rays of late sun shining behind him, with irises ringed in black. They were the most gorgeous eyes I had ever gazed upon. And they were scrutinizing me with such intensity that it felt as if they could have burned an actual hole through my skull.
I quickly averted my ogling gaze by looking back down at my papers, thinking that this could finally be the moment of my dreams when some ridiculously sexy stranger comes and swoops me away to my happily ever after. It probably wasn’t polite that I was pretending to ignore him, but he was just way too attractive to even look at. My heart pounded in my chest and butterflies danced in my stomach as I wondered what he was going to do. He must have chosen to sit here because of me, given the abundance of empty tables around.
“ Ehem. “ He covered his mouth as if he were coughing, trying to get my attention. The back of his hand was tattooed with a hellish landscape, with fog and Satanic symbols seeping down his fingers to twist over his knuckles. His eyes raced across my face as if searching intently for something.
Holy shit... he actually wants to talk to me?
A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips while I peeked up at him, trying not to appear as flustered as I felt. “Nice weather we’re having, wouldn’t you say?” He seductively leaned back and gestured to the window I had been staring out.
It didn’t matter that he was trying to strike up a conversation with the most basic-ass topic imaginable; my thighs still clenched together at the sound of his deep, sexier-than-sin voice. Those golden eyes of his suggestively swept up and down my body, a sly smirk blooming across his face. I opened my mouth to speak, only to find that I couldn’t remember how to verbally communicate with another living being.
“It seems like a shame that you’re stuck in here, studying all by yourself,” he tsked while glancing down at my papers, raking his gaze over them more boldly than what could be considered normal.
“Yeah, I, um, have a paper due next Monday,” I managed to stammer. My cheeks flushed with a deep hue as my mind scrambled for something better to add to this pathetic excuse of a conversation—I came up with nothing.
“Well...” He grabbed one of my papers and yanked it up to his face. “Gwendolyn, what exactly are you writing about?” His eyes stayed glued to my assignment, darting around the paper while he spoke. It was as if he were desperately seeking the answer to some unknown question on which his very life depended.
Okay... This is odd. Did he really just get my name from my paper instead of asking me for it?
“I’m sorry. Who are you again?” I asked, feeling surprised by this guy’s intrepid behavior, but also intimidated by how smolderingly sexy he was.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly lowered my paper back down and sat there, still as a statue, staring at me for an awkward moment. He abruptly threw the paper over his shoulder and snatched another one from the table with the suddenness of a snake striking its prey. He then searched that one with great urgency, too.
“Hey! Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” I lunged forward and tried to retrieve my paper from his thieving clutches.
He plopped his giant boot against the edge of the table and leaned his chair back so that the paper remained completely out of my reach. The angle gave me a good view of his long legs leading up to the apex of his crotch—it seemed intentional. His eyes lit up as if he’d finally found whatever it was he was searching for. “Anthropodermic bibliopegy, the art of binding books using human skin? Well now, that’s certainly an interesting topic.” He let out a low chuckle and seductively smirked, igniting a warmth that swam between my legs.
“Okay! Give that back, Bucko!” I snapped, the last of my shy demeanor flying right out the damn window. He laughed in a lighthearted manner while offering me the paper, which I snatched from his hand. “If you must know, it’s for an assignment about unusual literary practices,” I whispered in frustration. It was quite apparent that this guy was an oddball, but I still didn’t want him thinking that I was some sort of skin book psychopath.
In all truth, my motivation for writing on the topic came from my late aunt’s strange obsession with a particularly creepy occult book. One that so happened to be bound in human skin. It was lost after her death, but I still remembered its rather basic appearance and the undeniably disturbing vibe I always felt from it. However, I wasn’t about to share any of that with this sexy paper thief.
I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. Mischief? Excitement? Cunning and evil? Whatever it was, it looked like he wanted something from me, and it was unsettling. With a wicked grin twisting across his downright sinful lips, he leaned over, inching his face closer to mine. It was as if he were planning to tell me some deep, dark secret. A few strands of his silky hair fell forward, coiling on the smooth wooden surface. The closer he got, the wider my eyes grew as his imposing frame loomed over me.
“Between you and me, I’ve heard that there’s a human-bound book hidden somewhere on campus. It might be fun to go hunt it down together sometime. A date, perhaps?” He tapped his chin as if he were thinking.
“Oh, you know what? I'm actually not too big on dating, sorry. But thanks for the offer.” My hands trembled slightly as I rushed to gather my things. I was flattered, but this whole interaction was bizarre, and this guy didn't know the first thing about boundaries. Plus, I had more important things to do than go on a scavenger hunt for some obscure skin book with a complete stranger. Good looks be damned.
He noticed my eager attempt at packing up and frowned. “You’re leaving so soon?” He seemed genuinely disappointed, oddly enough.
“Yeah, I need to get home. I have hungry cats to feed and stuff...” I trailed off, not wanting to seem rude, and pulled my bag over my shoulder. “Maybe I’ll see you around, though.”
“Oh, I hope so, Buttercup.” He leaned back in his chair with another mischievous grin and a flirtatious wink.
Buttercup?
I spared him a quick side glance with a confused expression. “Well, goodbye then,” I said before quickly walking out of there, ignoring the sudden flood in my panties... What a weirdo.