deathdream
@popgag | lance +1
Books were supposed to be the one safe thing in the world. Books couldn’t hurt you (except with very good plots that usually had plenty of catharsis and the ones that didn’t simply weren’t for Bernie). Books definitely couldn’t yell at you. And books would never, ever, drag you off to places you didn’t want to be in and tell you to stay there for an indeterminate amount of time until they decided it was okay for you to come back now.
So why was it that that was exactly what this book was doing!?
Bernadetta sniffled. Everything around them was so...non-descript. There was grass that seemed to stretch on forever under a light blue sky. Bernadetta couldn’t see anything in the distance at all, not trees, not rivers, not anything! The road itself seemed to stretch out before abruptly fading out of sight, as though it was only there for set dressing.
Well...except behind them. Behind them stood a large gate, tall and imposing. Behind it, Bernie could see what looked like a village...she thinks? Not one she recognizes, nor any kind of flag or banner floating in the wind that might give them some idea of where they were.
“This is...” Bernadetta sniffed loudly again, twisting the edges of her hooded sweater in her hands. “W-we can’t really be in a book, can we? There’s no way that magic like that exists, right?”
“You there!” Bernadetta yelps loudly and jumps backwards to hide behind Alois.
“Sorry, sorry, we’re so sorry!”