'Something Of A Last Resort'
Mae ducked through the low doorway, and, somewhere in the back of the shop, a bell rang. She let the door swing shut behind her, bouncing slightly on its hinges. This was… interesting. The 'Occult Shop', as it called itself, was tucked behind the main shopping centre in Essex, not far from her school. She'd never been there before. Truth be told she hadn't known it existed until one of the Wicca girls mentioned the place. It was something of a last resort. Answers: that's what Mae was after… and help, help would be nice too. There wasn't much she wouldn't do for her little brother, she was used to looking out for him, to cleaning up the messes he got himself into. This particular mess was a bit different. But then Mae had never been scared of different.
Reaching out, Mae ran her fingers through the set of chimes by the doorway. They hung, suspended, above a particularly delightful collection of what looked an awful lot like the skulls of deceased rodents. Beside that were rack upon rack of dried herbs. Vervain, coriander, yarrow, sage… each was labelled in the same neat, bold handwriting. There didn't appear to be any kind of system, but neither did anything in the shop. Mae was leaning closer in an attempt to read the label on an especially foul smelling root when a cough made her jump. She turned slowly and allowed her eyes a second to adjust the darkness at the back of the shop. A young man slid out of shadows behind the counter, resting his arms gently on the glass top case.
"What can I do for you?" He was surprisingly normal: early twenties, dark eyes, lighter hair.
"I have a problem." She wondered how she should explain this, the speech did not become easier with retelling. She needed information, not a recommendation to a mental home.
"And what kind of problem would that be?" He asked, a smile ghosting over the corners of his mouth and a hint of interest sparking in his eyes.
"A magical problem," Mae said. She watched as the man's eyebrows rose.
He chuckled, prompting a glare from Mae, then he pulled some paper from the cabinet and scribbled something down.
"Well, I know some people. They could be… helpful," She wondered briefly is the pause was meant to discourage her, it didn't.
He slipped the paper into her hand and smiled. "But you didn't hear it from me."
Mae nodded her thanks, crumpling the paper between her fingers. The man receded into the shadows of the back room, the smile still twitching at his lips, and Mae, taking it as her cue to go, left the shop. As she trudged down the grey pavement beneath the equally grey sky, she slid the paper into her pocket. She was going to save her brother, and these 'people' better help - or they'd be hell to pay. She'd see to that.