by Divantae » Fri Dec 06, 2019 8:47 am
username: Divantae
kalon name: Ambrose
prompt:
It started when he was ten years old, his paw against the slimy window pane of a tuxedo store, the neon lights from the surrounding stores bouncing off of his golden hair. This tailor's corner was dim, an empty husk of a history long past, yet he couldn't help but stay transfixed by the little shop. He just stood there, alone as blank faces passed by, ignorant of the child's fixation on the room. It was as if he was invisible. This abandoned front was not like the others; that's what he always suspected.
Ever since then, he'd make his rounds from school, even going so far as to isolate himself entirely in favor of staring into it. Who wouldn't be so easily hypnotized by its beauty? Yes, he thought it was beautiful, gleeful indeed: its stains and its paint chips and its dusty suits and its darkness, that midnight that tempted him in so exotically. Soon enough, he couldn't separate himself from the blank rooms. He wanted, no, needed more.
Always the door had been locked, barred from his eager eyes. What did he hope to find? He wasn't so sure himself, but whatever it was, he wanted in. Though he didn't want to disturb the crowds nor get arrested for trespassing, so going through the front or breaking the glass weren't options. He'd make his way through the sooty alleyways, descending into the pitch black of the night, further into the store's reach.
To his delight, there was a door at the back, far from the prying eyes of the public. He was no thief nor crook, but he did know how to pick a lock if he ever felt he needed to, a little known skill secretly passed down by his grandmother to him. Was this what she meant by "being in need" after all? Did she know about this store's enchantments or perhaps did she foresee that he'd need it now?
Whatever the case, he satisfied himself in cracking open the door and peering into its unending depths. A shiver crept up upon his body as his paw sunk into the moldy carpet, then another and another descending into the carpet until he pushed his whole body through, soaked from rain.
Despite the air bloating and suffocating his breathing, he took the time to shift through the old suits, torn and ruined by age, until his paws swept over a striped black and white suit, shocked by the fabric. He tugged it out of its hold, attached to the other suits, until he had it in his arms. It dangled proudly as he surveyed it for any tears, but it soon blew harshly in a bursting gust of wind. Whipping his head around, he spotted the source of the disturbance.
The door had cracked back open. He thought to dismiss it, to continue on, but he was drawn to the darkness that flooded into the already midnight room, the voices that whispered from within, the eyes which peered into him and back. He was surrounded with no means but to go through the door once more.
He had stumbled forward into the voices, but was only met with the ceiling of his bedroom, drowned in sunlight. Despite his grogginess from a good night's rest, he knew he had been to the store; it had to be true. He left his family in a hurry, slipping on his coat, but he found no tailor's store when he sprinted downtown, only an empty parking lot drenched from rain.
Now, typically he'd think himself insane for imagining such a vivid place and just dismiss his experiences altogether, but when he had returned home covered in sweat, he found the tuxedo waiting for him on the coat rack, winking back at him.
The suit had chosen him.
[637/700 words]
Last edited by
Divantae on Sat Dec 21, 2019 6:45 am, edited 5 times in total.
