((((== WARNING! SPOILERS LIE AHEAD! This is the only time I'll say this, because I don't think I'll have many people skipping the first chapter.))))
The lull of evening descended upon a relatively quiet town. Many of its residents had recently finished their dinner, gotten home from the late shift, realized that they were now in debt after a shopping spree, or other mundane things like that. The chill of late fall often brought the day to an early end, and as snow had been forecasted for the oncoming night, many of the folk who would normally be romping about outside of their homes were instead forced to seek shelter and warmth. Those who were still about the peaceful town, however, might catch a glimpse of a girl who had seen enough warmth for a lifetime.
The girl was a teenager, clothed in modest garb and covered in soot. She clutched a damaged teddy bear in her right hand, her dead eyes staring straight ahead. The work was done. Her parents had died in the night by come cause that the girl could not identify through her desperate sobbing. She spent the following day, that is to say the one she was presently in, staring at their cadaverous forms, numbed to the core. Then she realized what would happen to them. They would decay, like all dead things. They would be her parents no longer, only monsters of rotted flesh. The girl did the only thing she could think to do. She baptized her parents in the most beautiful thing she had ever seen: fire.
The girl walked from the burnt husk of her old home with no hope, no plan. She walked through the familiar streets of her hometown, passing quaint shops that once seemed friendly and inviting. Now they were only part of a scab, a dead memory that blistered when touched.
"Excuse me, young lady."
The girl looked up to find the source of the voice that had sounded a moment earlier, but saw no one. She turned and looked to her right, into the window of an antique shop, where it sounded as if the voice had come from. Yet no one was visible to her, just an empty shop and a few items displayed on a desk before the window she was looking into. A clock, an ash tray, a few glass figurines, a radio…
Suddenly the face of a light-blonde-haired boy poked his head around a large shelf like a startled meerkat. The boy looked not much older than the girl herself, not that she had much time to study him as he flung himself across the shop and to the entrance. He flung the door open, the momentum carrying the top of his body out of the shop while his feet remained planted on the floor. "Hi! We're open!" he panted, "did you need something?" The girl took a moment before speaking. "… Not really. I just thought I heard…"
"What?" the boy asked, studying her with curiosity. "… Nothing," she muttered. "I don't need anything."
"Of course you do! Come i—" the boy started excitedly, but quickly cleared his throat while straightening his body, standing at his full height. "Come in," he said, forcing his voice to assume a lower, more professional tone. Eyeing the boy with bewilderment, the girl entered slowly. The boy followed her, closing the door behind them. "Ah, if you need anything, I'm Alphonse." After receiving no reply from the girl, Alphonse prompted, "and you are…?"
"Willow," the girl answered. The boy grinned, "Willow! That's a, ah, pretty name… Er, anyway… yes! This is an antique shop!"
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Willow replied, walking over to the desk she had been looking at from outside. Specifically, she was looking at the radio that rested upon it. Alphonse noticed.
"Oh, do you like that radio?" he asked intently. "… Yeah," Willow replied, surprised to find that she wasn't lying. Alphonse took no heed of her contemplation, instead launching into a precise salesmanship act. "Ah, yes, that's my great-great-great… Er, a lot of "great" uncle's! It was found in his house. See, he hadn't been seen in a few months, so my lots-of-greats aunt busted in, and…" Willow stopped him by holding up her hand, "I don't care," she said. "… Er, right!" Said Alphonse nervously, "Yeah, I must be boring you. I mean, who wants to hear an antique's history? Nobody, that's who. Stupid… poo-brains." Willow raised an eyebrow in judgment. Alphonse blushed, "Y... you know what I mean!"
"I really don't," Willow smirked. "So, do you wanna buy it?" Alphonse asked, still flustered. "No," said Willow, "I only said I like it… I never said I'd buy it."
"Well… yeah, I guess you shouldn't," Alphonse sputtered, "you should… save your money on… a shower. You look homeless." Willow took a minute to ponder this statement. "I guess I am," she said at length. Alphonse's face whitened. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," he said quickly, his face contorting into an expression of pity. Willow despised it. "Do… do you need anything? Of course you do. I'll, uh… I'll get you some towels. Actually, I live just above the shop. I'll set up a bath for you, and a bed, or something. Just… just…" Alphonse scurried off, overwhelmed by his need to help this poor destitute girl.
"Goodness, I thought he'd never leave."
Willow spun around, looking in every direction. It was that same voice again!
"He's a good boy, but he would only impede our conversations."
"Where are you?" Willow asked sharply, glaring daggers at the air around her.
"Oh, I don't mean to frighten you, but I'm afraid you won't be able to see me at the moment. As for where I am… Well, I'm a long way away. I'm using the radio to talk to you."
Willow looked to the radio that sat on top of the desk. She walked over to it, picking it up gingerly.
"Yes, that's the one! Now, why don't we—"
Willow turned the volume all the way down. She waited a few seconds, before turning it back up again.
"That was quite rude."
Willow blinked. "Either my hallucinations are very accurate, or this radio actually is talking."
"Oh, no, radios don't talk. But I do! Ha ha ha, ha… ha…"
Willow rolled her eyes. The voice on the radio cleared its throat awkwardly.
"Ah… Yes… Anyway, Willow, I—"
"How do you know my name?"
"… Well… I, ah, don't mean to sound odd, but I've been watching you."
Willow scrunched her face, "and how is that not supposed to sound 'odd'?"
"I know what you've been through,"
The voice said solemnly, and Willow's heart dropped. The voice took on a sympathetic tone, but not one of pity, like Alphonse had shone. The voice sounded as if somehow it could understand what she was going through. She felt like she could trust it.
"I'm sorry, Willow. This must be very hard for you. And I promise you, you're not going crazy. In fact, something good may very well come your way. I have a proposition for you."
Willow tensed, "a proposition?" she repeated.
"Yes. A test. If you pass, I'll give you something good."
"Something good?" Willow repeated again, "that's a pretty sorry offer."
"No, what I have to offer you is VERY good. You won't be disappointed."
"Then why don't you tell me what it is?"
"Not here, I'm afraid… and not now. I'd like to meet you in person, and then we can work something out."
Willow was silent. All this seemed pretty shady.
"What do you have left to lose?"
Nothing. The voice was right. "Okay, I'll meet with you. Where are you?"
"That's a bit difficult to explain. But you can be here in an instant, provided you find the right door. Don't worry, you'll know what I'm talking about when you see it. There is a special door in this shop… a mechanism, really. Look for a large, wooden structure. If you turn it on, we can meet. All you need to do is pull the lever."
Willow nodded, "okay, I'll go look for it."
Willow walked to the back of the antique shop, looking down its rows of rustic, wooden shelving. She reached the far wall without seeing anything like what the radio described. She opened a door an the far wall that Alphonse has left through earlier, leaving it unlocked in his mad dash. Opening it, Willow found that it led to a narrow hallway, at the end of which stairs ascended to the upper level. Before that was another door marked "STORAGE" in capital letters. Willow checked the door, finding that it was also unlocked. Pushing it open, she groped against the wall for a light switch in the room's utter darkness. She soon found one, pushing it upward to summon a wave of fluorescent light that temporarily blinded her. Blinking away the sensation, Willow continued into the small room, closing the door behind her.
There it was. Whatever it was, Willow had found it. Taking up most of the space in the room, surrounded by dust-covered knickknacks was the biggest whateveritwas Willow had ever seen. Sure enough , a lever presented itself, ripe for the pulling. A sudden wave of dread washed over her, causing her spine to tingle. She was having second thoughts.
WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO LOSE?
Nothing. As Willow reflected on the radio's words, she pulled the lever. Then the shadows came for her.
"Excuse me, young lady."
Willow awoke with her head pounding and her vision skewed, but she shot to her feet, ready to confront whoever had been watching her sleep. She stared down her attacker, crouched in what she hoped looked like a deadly combat. What she saw was a very surprised-looking man, rather short and wearing a red vest with a plain white shirt beneath, long black gloves, and pants and shoes to match. "… Ah, Willow?" the man repeated shakily, sounding almost timid. Willow recognized the voice; this was the man from the radio! But that wasn't the most interesting thing about him. What willow couldn't take her eyes off of was his hair. It was black like hers, but it defied gravity by curling upward, making it look like dark fire. Willow was enchanted. "How much hair gel do you use?"