Author's Note: You are all saints with your patience.

Chapter 44

Rosie and Bookshops

The meeting was approaching, but first, it was a rest day. Or Rest Day. Anna wasn't sure if the day was "special" enough to need capitalization in the English language. They capitalized days of the week, why not the particular day every week where the entire town slows down and essentially takes a day-long nap.

Monsters didn't really need to sleep, but they were "living" in a strange backward sense and got tired and irritable, eventually. So after staying awake straight on through about a week, everything in town slowed down. Monsters were sluggish. Things were quieter.

Anna found that she still liked the peace that came from closing her eyes and succumbing to darkness, even with that creepy wording.

Perhaps, she wondered, those dreams were over and done with. Chakis had shown her what needed to be shown, hadn't she? Anna had no reason to interact with ancient Irish air or Jack's ratty old corpse of a past anymore. She had mixed feelings. On the one hand, she supposed it was flat out cool that she could travel to the past and physically be there, not a silent detached watcher as if witnessing an old historical film. But that was the problem. She was traumatized and pissed at Jack, any version of him. She reasoned it was probably too late to pull some Star Trek shit and paradox the hell out of his bad decisions.

She didn't really know much about Chakis, but she figured the Reaper wouldn't let her change things. That wouldn't stop Anna from asking to if she ever got the chance. Who knows? But she might never see the angel(?) ever again.

Thus, here Anna was, lying on her side in a creaky old bed staring across the room at the window. It was dark, the waxing yellow moon just a thin sliver of a crescent outside. Not much light. She was tired. Exhausted really. But she couldn't sleep. She hesitated telling the witches, though she did anyway, already guessing their responses. Zeldabourne, in her blunt way, tossed a glass-bottled potion at Anna. Sleeping potion.

Anna had long figured out that her eight dry, skinless, skeleton fingers would get no better traction for holding things. Or catching them. She could only practice keeping a good grip and hope it got easier. As it was, she fumbled with the corked bottle before dropping it on the table. It didn't shatter (tough little thing) but it bounced and rolled around the table enough to be embarrassing.

Helgamine was a little more understanding as she looked at Annalise in pity despite the icepack the witch kept pressed to her head.

She said that lying in bed doing nothing would help Anna recover more than bustling around keeping herself busy. Helgamine maybe thought Annalise was avoiding Haddelia.

Haddelia, the nightmare keeper.

Anna surprised the witches when she revealed she had no idea about the "dream demon" that guided human subconsciousness from beyond the veil. She…he….they?... were sort of a citizen and at the same time not. The witches explained them as sort of a god/goddess/ruler of their own dimension threaded through all other dimensions, connected to Halloween because of the relationship with human fear their worlds shared. Honorary citizen.

Anna figured the nightmare keeper probably, somehow, knew about…Jack. And her? Chakis maybe. Whatever the reason, this Haddelia being hadn't popped into Anna's dreamscape to say hello or send her a particularly entertaining nightmare since she's been dead.

Anna was glad, mostly. She supposed she wouldn't be able to handle nightmares for a while, which was just plain pathetic now that she thought about it.

Anna didn't notice she had drifted off to dreamless sleep, Heddiela still avoiding her dreamscape apparently. Her subconscious didn't allow her a pleasant human-like dream either. She wasn't willing to submit to her subconscious. She knew what would come if she did. Pain. Sorrow.

Despite her effort to clean the blood off the fountain in the square, it still had the salty metallic tang of her little brother's liquid life. No one mentioned in, not to her face, but if she could smell it, she was sure other monsters could too. The small bucket of clothes soaking in the corner of her room stank of human blood.

Finklestein hadn't really demanded an explanation, and Anna was starting to think he wouldn't. Jack must have done something or said something to appease the monsters angry about a human popping into town.

At least until she showed her face again.

She had a meeting to go to in a few days. What would be said? What would she say?

By now the rumor had to circulate. Everyone should know who she was, according to Nevermore. It wasn't a secret. So was the point of an announcement during the meeting just to make it "official?"

She promised herself she would worry about it later.

Later.

Thus her peace for rest day involved no dreams, merely a silence her mind starved for. She didn't even care if it was a rest day only for her while the rest of town was beginning to bustle about already. Whispering. Gossiping.

She heard nothing outside or within the house.

She didn't hear her bedroom door open or the small skilled steps of someone well acquainted with the creaky floorboards of the room. It was dark enough that the visitor's average night vision for a Halloween Citizen wouldn't do them much good besides avoiding the box near the door. They didn't see the admittedly shallow lump on the bed.

With a tired sigh, the small-statured figure moved to shrug off her collection bag.

Helgamine and Zeldabourne woke to the sound of two screams and an almighty thump that shook the ceiling above them.

Zeldabourne blearily checked if it was her alarm clock that woke her but found the cursed thing silent and undisturbed, it's single eye closed and the tentacles curled up in slumber. It shifted sluggishly at the noise that continued from upstairs. Maybe it was hungry. It had caught no rats lately. She made a mental note to ask Trouble if he and Jasper would lighten up on the rodents and give the thing a sporting chance. Either that or give it a few of their kills.

She threw her door open and looked up as Helgamine passed her, sleep mask pulled up to her forehead.

They went upstairs and opened the door, noting the flash of purple and yellow lights from underneath. Helgamine turned the switch that turned on the electric light in the room.

The trespasser and attacker both froze and looked up at the two annoyed hags from their tangle.

Anne was posed to kick the other off her, her hand raised and a small fireball ignited and ready to shoot. Strings from the spools sitting on the desk were unfurled and stretching in the air toward the fight, taut, jagged, and prepared to skewer someone.

A young witch, older than Shock with dark gray-green skin, had stabbed a knife into Anna's eye socket, the blade hovering halfway in the empty orifice with the hilt hitting the rim. There was a tint of greenish-yellow light in the palm of one hand.

Anna hadn't seemed to notice the knife in her eye yet.

Both girls stared at the elders, noticing their unimpressed and unsurprised looks at finding the other person in the room.

"Home at last, Rosie?" Zeldabourne said with an eyebrow raised.

"Who the frick is Rosie?!" Anna said, her logic went out the window as her fear took over. It hadn't exactly spiraled out of control yet, so that was a plus.

"I'm Rosie," the witch snarled, "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?!"

"You're room? This is my room!" Anna looked at Helgamine. She finally noticed the knife in her eye and shouted, slapping the hand away and cupping the socket in phantom pain. "She attacked me!"

"She was in MY bed!" Rosie countered.

Helgamine whistled, and both young monsters shut up. "Get up," she said, not specifying either of them.

They both did so immediately, Anna taking longer to coordinate her lengthy limbs. She consciously made the decision to sit back down, her towering height stretching well over three times that of the witches. She didn't want to be scolded of course, but she thought they all looked ridiculous with the tiny witches yelling up at her. This way, they were eye level.

They didn't mind her disobedience.

"Annalise, this is Rosie, our apprentice," Helgamine said, tugging out a wrinkle in her nightdress.

"She's been traveling, collecting supplies to restock the apothecary," Zeldabourne added. "She left just hours after Halloween and just before you arrived."

Helgamine nodded. She looked at Rosie. "Rosie, this is Annalise. Jack's granddaughter."

Rosie sputtered and Anna's face twisted into a cross between a grimace, a glare, and shock.

That was the first time she heard anyone actually say it out loud with such blunt factualness.

"Granddaughter?!" the girl squeaked in confusion. "Did I miss something? Jack and Sally married? Was th-there a time skip?! How long have I been gone?!"

"Rosie" was disturbed and heartbroken at the, apparently not impossible, likelihood she had missed out on who knows how many years. Had she fallen into a time loop while out of town?

"No no, nothing like that," Zeldabourne said, unconcernedly waving away her apprentice's fear. She scratched her long nose and groaned. She turned on her heel and muttered "tea" under her breath.

Rosie looked at Annalise as the elders left.

The two stared for about two seconds before following.

Annalise ducked to follow Rosie down the stairs. "You always introduce yourself with a knife?"

"If there's someone in my bed, yes," she looked at the skeleton. "What?"

Annalise snorted. "There's a joke here…I swear."

"When you find it let me know," Rosie said as she jumped the last two steps and entered the kitchen.

Annalise frowned and stepped out of the stairwell.

Rosie seemed very young, but by now Annalise knew not to trust someone's physical age. Apparently, the witch was old enough for the Helgamine and Zeldabourne to trust her to go out collecting things who-knows-where for a month by herself.

Annalise was absolutely sure this Rosie was probably decades older than her.

"So uh…I didn't realize my room belonged to someone else."

"It was always supposed to be a temporary dwelling for you, dear," Zeldabourne said with a yawn.

"Temporary?"

"Of course. Now that your mess with Jack is sorted, I supposed you'll be moving in with him," Helgamine said while Rosie looked very confused as to why the skeleton was with them in the first place.

Anna would have paled if she could. "What? No! I don't want…"

"It very little to do with what you want, Annalise," Helgamine scolded.

"You can't possibly expect me to go haunt with the one man in this afterlife I despise."

"Despise. Now that's a strong word."

"Despise? Why in Halloween would you despise Jack?!" Rosie seemed alarmed.

"Well explain later, Rosie," Helga assured.

Meanwhile, Anna looked ready to throw a fit. "I thought I was going to stay here!" She looked at the witches in a mild bit of desperation. "I can't just… we haven't even discussed…"

"Annalise."

Annalise clicked her jaw closed and it was quiet for a moment.

Zeldabourne glared at her and pointed at a chair.

Annalise sunk into it staring at the table. She was shaking a bit.

"Why can't I stay here?" she whispered.

"Simply put, we don't have space and Rosie is not to be sharing her room," Helgamine said and Zelda nodded along. Her voice softened, just barely. "This was always temporary, dear. Jack is supposed to be your master, whether or not the two of you like it. He is to provide you room and board, either with himself or arranging with someone else. That's exactly what he did initially, asking us to let you stay here. However, in light of recent events…"

Annalise glanced up to catch the two elders sharing a look.

Zeldabourne sighed. "The bonehead needs a push. And apparently, so do you."

Annalise looked confused as both of them shared another glance and raised their left hands.

They snapped their fingers.

Annalise shouted as she suddenly found herself outside the front door, falling on her rear as the chair went out from under her. Or more accurately, she went out from over it.

She scrambled to her feet just as a change of her clothes smacked her in the face.

"HEY!" she shouted, banging on the front door when it wouldn't open, a shirt and pair of pants hanging over her arm. "You're kicking me out?!"

Helgamine's face poked out the side window but Annalise couldn't get close. A ward kept her in place.

"You need to find someplace else to haunt, Annalise." She didn't sound cruel, just matter-of-fact.

"Helg-!"

"We'll pack up all your things for you, dear," Zeldabourne said from the other window. "Come back to get them when you've settled."

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, we're very serious." She leaned back, "This is for your own good, Annalise!" Helgamine sang as she closed the shutters.

"Helgamine! Zeldabourne! Oh for the love of…" Annalise cursed and kicked the door. "You can't just…"

"Actually they can. And very much should."

"Shut up, Jasper," Annalise snapped and glared at the cat as he jumped from the roof to a bench outside the shop.

"I'm just saying. We're not responsible for taking care of you. It's well within our rights to kick you out at any time."

"Halloween has a lovely welfare system."

Jasper chuckled. "Assured accommodations and guidance for newcomers? I supposed we do."

Annalise gestured at the door.

"Oh but you see, Jack is the one who must-"

"I know," Annalise hissed. "I…I don't want to ask him for help. The last thing I want to do is beg that…"

"Watch your words."

"I will say what I want! I don't want to go beg that coward for a place to rest."

Jasper shook his head. "Hell's gate, you're just as stubborn as him. And near as shortsighted."

"Understand," Annalise said, following the cat down the street in her nightdress. "Look at this from my perspective. Can't you see how angry I am?" She pointed at herself and tilted her head back in exasperation. "He traded me like I was some pickup truck or a casserole dish."

"At least it was an equal exchange, skelly," Jasper purred. "A life for a life. Far better that than trading you for fame or fortune. You must admit as least there was some honor in such a deal."

"You weren't there! You don't-"

"Are you were?"

The skeleton and cat stilled and looked at each other.

Annalise scoffed and crossed her arms. "Of course not."

Jasper turned around and sat down in the street in front of her. "Then how did you learn of this deal. We learned from you and Jack, but Jack didn't appear to have revealed anything to you."

"An angel told me."

That certainly got a reaction. Jasper made a weird choking noise. "What?"

Annalise didn't answer.

"Girl…"

"I won't say more."

Jasper glared at her. "Petulant little beast."

"I'm not a mirror, Jasper," Annalise said, cracking a weak smile.

Jasper didn't get a chance to retort as the light from a doorway fell across them.

"Newcomer?"

Annalise looked at the porch of the place she and Jasper had stopped in front.

"Sir…" Annalise greeted as Jasper ran off.

The Creature stared at her dubiously. "Child…why exactly are you standing in the street barefoot and in a nightdress?"

Annalise was too tired and angry to be embarrassed. "The witches kicked me out."

"On your way to Skellington Manor then?"

Annalise's glare at the cobblestone was her answer.

He let out a deep sigh. "Hurry in. There's a back room where you can get changed. I'd expect Jack's granddaughter to have more class than disrobing in the middle of the street."

The bottom rims of Anna's eye sockets glowed purple as she kept her head low and ducked through the door past the large monster.

She was immediately accosted by the smell of books. That wonderful rich dusty smell of faded ink and wood pulp.

She pulled up short at the sight of hundreds of books lining the shelves as far as she could see.

"I didn't realize this was a bookshop. Unless this is your personal collection," she said.

The Creature chuckled. "Perhaps you should explore the town properly one of these days. I say bookshop, but citizens often borrow and return what they wish if they wish. I find my collection a bit less daunting than the library. I'm insulted the Gatekeeper didn't inform you."

"It's beautiful."

"You like books then?" The large man sounded pleased.

"Yes sir."

"Hmm. There's a room you can close off down that way," he pointed.

Annalise was back a few minutes later to find the Creature nowhere but a cup of tea with a slip of paper scrawled with her name.

She looked at the shelves. Arranged alphabetical by author's name. Some had dust. Some had cobwebs that looked intentionally placed (she wasn't surprised).

Just out of curiosity, she wandered until she found the "S" section. Part of her was shocked to find what she was looking for and she pulled one of the books off the shelf, not sure what to think about the Creature's choice of keeping that book, much less several copies. She tapped the cover thoughtfully and went back to where what she assumed was her tea sat.

She had to be reading for at least an hour before she was startled.

"What are you reading?"

Anna looked up, starting slightly as a shadow fell over her. She blinked dumbly at the Creature for a long moment, too jarringly pulled out of her book to differentiate the story from her reality at the moment.

"Should I rephrase?" the Creature chuckled at the young one's expression. "Whose story are you reading?"

Anna straightened, embarrassed as she realized she hadn't answered him aloud. "Your story actually, sir. Is that alright?"

The Creature looked down at the small tome in the skeleton's hands, that...name scrawled across the paper cover. That particular edition was fairly new, a cheap copy with annotations printed for scholars in university studies. Anna must have felt self-conscious about removing one of the older copies from the self. "No individual's discomfort should stop you from reading what you like. That said, it's fine. Thank you for asking."

Anna nodded hesitantly.

"I am curious though," the Creature said, lowering his frame into a chair a little ways away with another book in his thick hands. "Have you read it before?"

"When I was alive? Yes. Most schools required it, but I read it long before then. More out of spite I admit." She cringed a bit at her long unnecessary answer.

"Spite?"

"My parents said it was too old for me," she said sheepishly.

He chuckled again, a deep rumble that Anna could barely feel in her bones.

"What's so...funny?"

"I wasn't aware school children were told to read my story," he replied, "What an awful idea."

"Why?" Anna said, a little harsher than she intended.

"I killed many people. Surely the stories of monsters are left to children frightening those younger than them on dark stormy nights. Not schools."

Anna shook her skull. "Your story is hailed as the foremost of science fiction. An important literary milestone."

"Imagine that. If you've read it before, why again?"

"I fear you'll think it silly, sir," Anna admitted.

"I doubt it."

Anna thought for a moment before answering, "I've read the stories of a good number of townsmonsters when I was alive, including yours. But I never...You were never real," she looked at him almost pleadingly, "It was always fictions. But I'd sometimes imagine what it would be like to meet my favorite characters." She paused, eyes drifting down to the book laid open in her lap. "Then I died and this place..."

The Creature hummed, "You are in a rather unique position."

Anna looked up, not disagreeing, but wanting him to continue.

"You have the memories of a human life up there," the Creature tapped his head, "A Real human. No Undead has those memories as clear and unfoggy as you do, forget that everyone gets pieces over the years. As for Legends such as myself, even if one was human before, does it really count? We were never aware our lives were ink on paper or the imaginings of one human in your world. Those Legends may have though themselves human, but they still were never Real. The division between reality and fiction never existed for citizens here. "

"I've thought about that a lot...especially since..." she trailed off, then shook her head, "I'm going to reread as many stories as I can. Mostly because I have such a different frame of reference now, with my own neighbors being the characters."

"I see. Well don't let me keep you, young one."

Anna sat there awkwardly staring across the room as the Creature leaned back and opened his own book. There was a question itching the back of the inside of her skull for a while now.

"I have a hypothetical question."

He didn't glance up, "Ah. The most suspicious of phrases."

"This really is hypothetical. The premise for this is impossible," Anna defended stiffly.

The Creature looked up, gesturing with a nod for her to continue.

Anna swallowed, or did something that felt like swallowing.

"If by some unknown reason or power, if Mary Shelley, or Bram Stoker or some other author came to Halloween, what would happen?"

The Creature looked at her curiously. "If they came here when they died?"

"No, like if...uh..." Anna sorted her words for a second, "If the veil between Heaven and us was thin enough for them to come over and visit."

"If that happened, we would have much larger problems."

"The Veil is not the issue! I'm just curious about Mrs. Shelley visiting. What would happen then?"

He didn't answer at first. "I suppose it would be extremely strange for me."

Annalise was quiet for a minute. "Do you hate her?"

The Creature stared at her with his piercing yellow eyes. "Do I hate my true creator? Would I treat her the same as him? When she was above my crafting more than even him? My pain? My sorrow? All the product of her imagination?"

Annalise looked down.

"Is this question truly for me or yourself?"

Annalise glanced at him. "How much do you know?"

"You tell me."

"Do you know I'm the product of Jack's folly? That he…cursed me. Signed my death warrant before I was born."

"I didn't. Not all that. Did he do so intentionally?"

"Intentionally enough!" Annalise muttered. "He was dead already. A ghost wandering earth. His daughter-in-law was going to die in childbirth. Either that or the baby. So he traded some of my years for the baby's. That's my understanding."

"Are you're looking for me to justify your hatred for your 'creator'?" He seemed amused almost.

"When you put it that way…" Annalise muttered. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You barely know me, child. Don't go with my flawed opinion."

"Hm."

"But I will say, be cautious," he said.

Annalise looked up. "Why?"

"There are those who will want to use your hatred against Jack. That hatred you're so desperate to hold on to. It will kill you a second time." He paused. "If is really is hatred. But I look at you and do you know what I see?"

Annalise didn't respond.

"I don't see hatred. It's too strong a word for you. I see pain in your eyes. Pain and betrayal. You don't hate Jack, as much as you want to. Trust me. I know hatred. Hatred enough to kill. And that's not what's in your soul, skeleton."

"I wasn't expecting this kind of conversation."

"I'm an old monster with a lot of time to think. You looked like you were too upset to realize this yourself."

Annalise mumbled something under her breath.

The Creature rumbled out a hum. "I'll just say this. Don't act on that hatred you think you should have."

Annalise didn't answer. She glanced toward a window and noticed the sun.

"…thank you for the tea…" she whispered and got up, setting down the book and tucking her rolled up nightdress under her arm. "Have a frightening day, sir."

The Creature nodded to her and went back to reading as she left.