It was night time when Cain finally returned from the castle of the three witches. He stepped inside The House of Mystery carrying a small pouch of magic dust they had given him and was immediately overcome with a sense of deja vu. There were no lights on in the house again, save for a faint flickering glow that could be seen at the end of the hall coming from the same sitting room where, days ago, Elvira had sat waiting for him. Cain shrugged, shut the front door, and headed towards the light. Upon entering the sitting room he was not terribly surprised by what he saw, although it was quite a sight to see.
His son, Klarion, was sitting there in a large, leather armchair near the room's glowing fireplace with a villainous grin on his face. In his lap sat his cat, Teekl, as well as the book, Et Non Tanget, which was still safely locked. Standing silently at attention on either side of the chair were two suits of medieval armor.
"So there they are," said Cain, casually, to himself. Then to his son he said, "Where's your uncle?"
"Your brother's dead," Klarion said.
"Is he?" said cain. He was only slightly curious.
"How'd it happen, did the fat pig gorge himself to death on free food from my kitchen?" he asked.
This angered Klarion who figured he'd get much more of a reaction.
"I'm serious," he said. "Dead serious."
"You're seriously a pain in the backside," said Cain. "Did you finish your chores?"
"There's not going to be anymore chores, or anymore of this familial nonsense either," said Klarion.
"I see," said Cain, stroking his bearded chin. "So I take it you haven't been enjoying our time here together, is that right?"
"You got it, pops," said Klarion. "You know, I actually thought it would be fun to find my real parents, to see where I came from. I figured they'd be a couple of badass mages or evil sorcerers or something; people I could relate to, who could help me achieve the greatness I was destined for. Instead all I find are an old geezer with a dilapidated house and a slutty late night horror movie hostess."
"Now just a minute," Cain said angrily, taking a step forward.
"Ah, ah, ah," said Klarion, wagging his finger at his father. "Not another step."
"Or else what?" asked Cain. "You can't do anything to me. I have The Mark. No one can hurt me."
"I know that," said Klarion. "I'm not stupid. But the House of Weirdness has no such mark. I could tear this place down with a snap of my fingers."
Cain smirked at his son. He knew full well that it would take more power than any witch boy had to damage the House of Mystery, but he decided to play along.
"What is it that you want, boy?" he asked, patiently.
"I want the key to this" Klarion said, holding up Et Non Tanget.
"Ah, I see. You know, there's a very interesting story behind that book-" Cain began.
"I don't want to hear a stupid story!" shouted Klarion. "I've already figured out all I need to about this book. It holds power. Great power. Otherwise you and uncle wouldn't want me not to have it so bad."
"Is that so? said Cain. "Well, you're not wrong..."
"Just give me the key, old man, and there won't be any trouble," said Klarion.
"W-w-what's going on here?" came a voice from behind Cain. He turned to see his brother, Abel, enter the room wearing clothes stained with dried blood. Klarion's eyes widened.
"You're dead!" he shouted, pointing his finger at his uncle.
"You certainly seem to know everything," Cain quipped.
"Oh, I'm j-j-just fine," said Abel to Klarion. "But you are a v-v-very n-n-naughty boy. Cain, do you know what he-"
"Just shut up," Cain said, turning his attention back to Klarion. "My son was just demanding that I give him the key to that book there, weren't you, Klarion?"
The boy nodded.
"And I think at this point I am happy to oblige."
"But, Cain-" Abel tried to voice his objection, but Cain put up a hand to silence him. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small silver key.
"Here it is," he said, holding it up with a smile.
Teekl jumped down from Klarion's lap and padded over to Cain. Cain bent down and let the feline take the key out of his palm with its teeth.
"Just remember what curiosity can do," he said to the cat.
Teekl returned to Klarion and dropped the key into his waiting hand.
"Now, let's see what you've been hiding," Klarion said, putting the key in the lock and turning it.
"By all means," said Cain.
Klarion slowly opened the book wide in his lap. Immediately a white, eerie light shone out of it, right into his face. Klarion looked at the book, into the light, transfixed. His eyes began to move rapidly from side to side like he was reading very fast. His hands gripped the sides of the book tightly. It seemed as if he couldn't let go. Teekl backed away from the chair as a low humming sound began to emit from the book. It sounded like many voices talking at once.
Cain smiled and took a step towards his son.
"I don't know if you can hear me, " he said, "But perhaps now you'd like to know a little bit about the history of that book. You see, its only had one previous owner before me, a man named Ricardo Hornsby. Hornsby was a veracious reader who loved books, but hated his boring everyday life and the people around him. He dreamed that one day he'd be able to live in one of the fantasy worlds he read about in his books. One day a book mobile came to his town driven by a queer old gentleman who told Hornsby that he had just the book for him and gave it to him free of charge. The book was called Et Non Tanget, or in English, Do Not Touch."
Klarion suddenly began to rise from his chair. The book fell from his lap onto the floor, still open, as the light shining out of it grew brighter. Klarion floated in midair above the book, suspended in its white light, his eyes were still fixed on the pages as if he was looking into another world. Teekl kept a safe distance from the whole scene, but hissed at the book angrily. Abel hid behind Cain, who showed no sign of fear whatsoever as he continued his story.
"As I'm sure you're no doubt realizing," he said to his son, "The book really grabs your attention. Old Hornsby always knew that the very best books are the ones that suck you in, except once this particular book has you, it doesn't let you go."
The light became brighter and brighter and then what looked like a spinning vortex came out of the book and swept Klarion into it. Be began to spin around in the air as if caught in a tornado.
"Maybe now you realize how powerful stories can be," said Cain. "And you'll have plenty of time to reflect on this lesson while you're trapped inside one."
Klarion spun and spun. He began to wail in anger, which blended with the voices coming from the book into a loud, moaning din. Teekl, not knowing what to do, just stood there watching as Klarion went in circles.
"And take this with you," said Cain, going up behind the cat and giving it a swift kick in the ass, which sent it sailing through the air and into the swirling vortex of light. Both Klarion and Teekl spun around faster and faster, growing closer to the book with every spin until they were finally sucked into it along with the light and the voices. The book slammed shut and all was calm once again.
"What w-w-will happen to him?" asked Abel.
"He'll have a grand old time sailing the seas with Captain Ahab, wandering the moors of Wuthering Heights, exploring The Secret Garden, and so on," said Cain.
"But will he be able to g-g-get out?" asked Abel. Even though the boy had murdered him, Abel wasn't one to hold that sort of thing against someone for too long and he did enjoy having a nephew, even if he was a little monster.
"I'm sure there's some way to get him out. Maybe a spell or whatever, but quite frankly I couldn't care less," said Cain. "The boy has proven to be nothing but a disappointment to me."
"But you can't-" began Abel, but Cain cut him off.
"Don't tell me what I can't do, or I'll put your flabby face in a copy of Seduction of the Innocent," said Cain. "Now, I'll tell you what you can do, you can get those suits of armor back upstairs into the library for me while I attend to the book."
"What are y-y-you going to d-d-do with it?" Abel asked, fearfully.
"Oh, I know just the place for it," Cain said, and a wicked smile spread across his face.
A few days later, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, lay lounged across the red velvet couch in her dark and spooky basement apartment. A large television camera was pointed at her. She stared down the lens.
"Well, I hope you all enjoyed tonight's feature, The Beast of Yucca Flats," she said in a breathy voice. "This is Elvira, the girl who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'flat', saying goodnight and unpleasant dreams."
She waved her dainty fingers at the camera for a few seconds and then a little light on the top of it went from green to red indicating that the transmission feed had ended. Elvira quickly sat up from the uncomfortable position and patted her beehive hairdo.
"I really need to get me a Laz-Y-Boy," she said. "I already know plenty of lazy men."
She laughed at her own joke and slapped her knee. Then she looked around and remembered she was alone. She shrugged. Suddenly a knock on the front door drew her attention.
"Ooh, visitors!" she said, and ran over to answer the door.
Standing on her door step was a delivery guy holding a small package wrapped in brown paper.
"Delivery for Miss Elvira," he said.
"That's me," said Elvira. "Who's it from?"
"Doesn't say," said the delivery man, handing her the package and a clipboard to sign.
She scrawled her signature across it, handed it back, and then waved goodbye. Then she shut the door and took her package inside and sat down on the couch.
"Gee, I wonder what it could be," she said to herself. "Probably a box of chocolates from one of my many admirers."
She tore open the paper and frowned. It was just an old book called Et Non Tanget. Taped to the front was a small note that read "Dear Elvira, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did."
"Ugh, a book," said Elvira, making an unpleasant face. "Who would give me a book? It doesn't even have Fabio on the cover."
She thought for a moment and then an idea hit her.
"Oh well, I know a good use for it," she said, and bent down to lift one of the legs of the couch.
"This thing's been wobbling for weeks," she said, sticking the book under the leg. Then she stood up and rubbed her hands together like she had just done some difficult home repairs.
"There, that's better. Now, where did I leave my sudoku puzzle?" she asked herself and walked away into another room. She didn't even notice the low, murmuring sound coming from the book. The one that sounded like voices calling out from within.
The End