You push open a heavy wooden door, ornamental bird skulls and feathers hanging from it's windowless surface the only adornment you notice as a bell rings somewhere above you. As you enter, your nose is blasted with a tornado of scents, herbal aromas mixing with sour stenches as they cascade through the air. The entryway is dark and musty, most of the windows blocked by high shelves, filled with bottles containing mysterious fluids, and stacks upon stacks of dusty books. You step inside further and, to your right, hear the sound of rushing footsteps and the sound of heavy objects falling to the floor as a young plumerian hustles to greet you. "Ah, sorry, clumsy me!"
He stoops down to rearrange the stack of books he had knocked over. "Anyways, welcome to the Corner Apothecary, where we specialize in your needs! My name is Ossi, is there anything I can help you with? We have some premade concoctions for common ailments and requests-" he gestures to the shelves surrounding you, the slew of potions bubbling and glowing in a rainbow of colors, "-but we also take special orders on potions, remedies, and ingredients!"
He grins and taps a pencil against a clipboard, which he holds up in his right hand. You cock your head to the side, inspecting him. His sunny personality seems out of place in such a dank, musty place. He is wearing a full-body apron stained in various liquids that seem to be glowing in the dark. You make a mental note not to come too close, out of fear of staining your own outfit. In the pause, you take a moment to further take in your surroundings. The ground beneath your feet and the walls around you are both made out of the same black, brick-like rocks. The corners of the room are covered in cobwebs and you could've sworn you saw the biggest spider crawling around in a jar beyond Ossi's head. Biting back your revulsion, your curiosity gets the better of you and you inform the clerk in front of you that you had merely come in to look around. "Oh, that's fine, that's fine,"
he waves his hand around and tucks his clipboard back into the pocket in his apron as he sticks his pencil into the curly mop of hair behind his ear for safekeeping. "I just finished inventory for the day, so I could help show you around, if you'd like,"
he offers excitedly, grasping your hand and pulling you along, not taking no for an answer. He pulls you to the shelves closest the door. It's covered in mostly long, slender bottles all stopped up with corks. Most bottles have a piece of masking tape haphazardly stuck on with hastily scrawled names labeled. You pick out "cold," "aches," and "tooth rot" on a few before the cheerful clerk starts explaining. "These are our common remedies, for simple ailments like allergies and headaches and such."
He pulls one off the shelf, labeled "influenza," and gazes proudly at it. "You can get some crap substitute at a drug store for much cheaper, but it would be nowhere near as effective as our product! These are proven cures!"
Ossi shakes his fist at a feisty memory. "Though I can't guarantee it'll taste very good... Anyhoo, let's move along!"
He takes you by the hand once more, your protests dying in your throat as he leads you to a series of shelves deeper into the building, in an alcove-like area. "Here we have our live ingredients! Every respectable potionmaster or witch simply
must use top quality ingredients for their potions, and the only way to ensure 100% quality is to grow it yourself!"
He speaks passionately yet upbeat, creating an atmosphere juxtaposed to the one created by the near darkness, suffocating smoky smells, and cold air of the apothecary. You take a closer look at the bowls, bottles, and jars, seeing some filled with various plants, some shriveled and dried, some green with life, and others rotting and crawling with bugs. Further down the shelves are cages with mice, newts, bowls of frogs, and some live plants straining to live in tepid water. "My main job is to maintain upkeep of the storefront and take inventory, but whenever the master is too busy, she'll ask me to go out back and care for her precious pets. Kinda twisted, in my opinion, that she calls them her pets and coos over them only to toss them into a boiling cauldron a day later for money!"
Ossi lets out a hearty laugh, and you give him a wry smile, taken aback. You're given no time to recover, as you find that he's dragging you even deeper into the apothecary. You're beginning to question whether you still want to be here or not. "This is the good stuff,"
Ossi claps his hands together and rubs his palms together, then stretches high up on his tiptoes to reach for an unsealed, mason jar-like bottle. You observe your surroundings. There are even more piles upon piles of trinkets and things cluttering the tables, desks, and chairs that furnished the place. Given the layout of the room you assume it had once been a small sort of pub. The shelves in front of you are covered in dirt and grime. You wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. The potions on display here looked the wackiest of all, some displaying bright neon colors, some fizzing and bubbling like they were endlessly carbonated, and some looking like actual tar just bottled for sale. The scent was strongest here as most bottles weren't sealed. "This beauty right here,"
the liquid is a gross, mucky brown color like sewage, "is a love potion I brewed myself."
He looks to you expectantly, so you give him an awed 'ooh!' "It's the first successful potion I've ever made, and the master says it's top quality! Unfortunately, it's one of our most expensive products, but that's because it's so potent. We usually only sell a few ounces of it at a time because this whole jar on it's own is dangerous. The master has this story about, years ago, she employed two assistants. One day they got into an argument over who was going to get promoted to apprentice under the master, and the fight got physical. One knocked the other down so she tripped her and made her tumble into a shelf and knock a bottle over, and it just so happened to be a fresh love potion! The master says that they fell into a love so deep that it was scary and dangerous, they got possessive and jealous and wouldn't let anyone touch the other, talk to the other, they lay on the ground staring into each others eyes, practically glued together until the master brewed up an antidote! Even with the antidote the love spell wouldn't wear off completely, and, well, long story short they're married now and live on the other end of town!"
Ossi chuckles and puts the bottle back up on it's shelf, then rests his hands on his hips, satisfied with his story. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You notice that Ossi talks very fast, and you can't tell if he genuinely enjoys what he's talking about or just very excited at having a customer. "O'course, we have more than just your standard love potion. Here's one that will cause warts to break out all over your skin, here's one that'll make your eyes expand until they explode, oh! And here's a truth serum--popular among wives, for some reason-- and, ooh, my personal favorite-- the revenge potion!"
The large bottle he pulls off the shelf contains a fizzy liquid that pops and glows half purple, half pink, like a lava lamp. "Extremely volatile, it's often bought in conjunction with the truth serum! You take a drop--just one-- and mix it into a drink. Then, bring the drink to your lips, whisper into it what you want to happen to your victim while mustering up all your feelings of anger, then spit in it and serve it to your poor, unsuspecting target! I've always wanted to use it, I have so many ideas for it, but I honestly can't hate anyone enough to do so,"
Ossi sighs wistfully. You give him a funny look. He takes a deep breath, then turns to face you directly, smiling. "Well, that's about it for our public areas. Did anything catch your eye?"
You wordlessly shake your head, feet itching for the door. "No? S'a shame, but we're not going anywhere, so if you ever have a need for anything, come back and seek us out. Like I said, we specialize in
your needs, we have a solution for literally
anything!"
There's a loud bang and a shrill cry of "Ossi!" from somewhere deeper in the shop that sends a chill straight to your core. You notice a glow streaming from under a nearby door, nearly hidden amongst piles of boxes full of smelly, moldy junk, and hear a loud pop and sizzle. Ossi jumps and turns to you sheepishly, running a hand through his curls and grinning. You notice that he keeps a white bow in his hair, likely to keep the wild curls out of his eyes. "Well, the master needs me so I gotta run. Don't forget about us, okay?"
With that, he zooms away, hip knocking into another stack of books in his haste. Left with nothing else to do, you take in one last breath of the thick air, jumbled full of smells to create a sum of many that you can't decide on being pleasant or repugnant. You pull open the heavy door and step outside, the bell jingling as you squint to readjust to the sharp sunlight and are hit with clean, fresh air. You turn back and look above the door at the sign, battered and faded, reading, "The Corner Apothercary."
You meander back towards the street, pondering idly just what you would do if you got your hands on that revenge potion.
