Red Inked Books

Tobya brushed hair out of her eyes and walked into the bookshop called “Tomes and Thyme”. Lordess Thyme greeted Tobya from his perch by the front desk, smiling and offering his complementary spiced oatmeal cookies.

Tobya, like always, declined the cookie, headed for the ladder and climbed up to the open second floor, sitting at her usual spot on the elevated bay window. She dug through her satchel and brought out a thick handmade leather bound book.

She was incredibly proud of this book; it took her two and a half years to make. Tobya tanned the hide herself, made and aged each page of parchment, and bound it all together. She also hand painted and applied the gilded and painted illustrations marking each new part {of which there were twelve}, added embossing and decorative enamel and gilded metal to the cover as well. Gathering every material she needed had taken a while, and most of her money, and then putting it together took so much longer than expected. But she had to applaud herself. Even with working her three jobs.

Within this huge 600 page tome, she was to write the most epic tale that she could think of. One that would go down in history~ one that had a bit of everything for everybody.

If only Tobya knew how to start it.

The door to Tomes and Thyme opened and in walked a young man who looked to be around her age. He had decently long brown hair and dark olive skin with freckles. Tobya could see that he had stark grey eyes that never lingered on one thing for too long.

Except when he caught her eye.

The world inside the bookshop seemed to stop: Lordess Thyme didn’t move to greet the young man or offer him a complementary cookie. Other regulars around the shop stopped moving and stood statue still. The young man smirked at Tobya and then looked away. Blush crept onto her cheeks, she promptly turned and faced the large bay window. The bookshop went back to moving and Tobya, unsuccessfully, tried not to think of this young man.

Tobya held the book she made in her hands, turning it this way and that, looking over every crevice and nook. She still can’t believe that she made this, with her own hands.

Tobya felt like she was being watched. She felt eyes on the back of her neck. She turned to look behind her. The young man stood behind her, a curious look on his face. Up close, Tobya could see that he had thick, full lips that rested in a permanent smirk, eyes shaped like almonds with eyelashes that were unfairly long. His nose was long and flat, and had a distinct button~like quality to it.

“Excuse me, sir, why are you watching me?” the man laughed and sat down in front of her. “I never said you could sit down…” She said, but her voice faded as he started to speak.

“Are you Ms. Oleander?”

“Who's asking?” She crossed her arms and squared her shoulders. “What do you want?”

“Ah, Ms. Oleander, I am Odysseus Kasse.” he held out his hand and magically whipped out a shiny business card. “I’m from The Society of Recorders. I have an interest in offering you a…job at my family’s manor.”

“Odysseus Kasse?” she raised an eyebrow. He was a very well known Author. “And what do you want to hire me for?”

“You enjoy reading and writing, do you not?” He gestured around the bookshop and to the book in her hands. “We have a knack for finding one of our own, Ms Oleander.”

“What do you mean by that?” Odysseus chuckled and flicked sepia brown hair out of his eyes.

“We offer money, loggings, if needed, and access to all the books you can read and all the parchment and ink you could ever want. What do you say?”

Tobya thought for one moment. “What would my position be?”

“Writer. I believe that you will be great at…bringing stories to light, Ms Oleander.” he gave her a smile and stood. “Think about it, will you? The address is on the back of the card should you want to…join our society.” Odysseus straightened his rich basil green waistcoat, flicked long strands of hair from his eyes and walked away.

Tobya didn’t take long to figure out her answer. She was going to join The Society of Recorders and become a Writer. Even if that meant moving her and her two siblings to the next town over for a job that she might not even like.

When Tobya arrived at the Kasse Manor, she made sure that her and her siblings looked their greatest. Tobya wore a rich prussian blue bodice and a simple a line skirt that flowed like water, both with buttery yellow accents. Her sister, Mabel, wore her best purple dress that she usually wore when she went to church. Her brother, Charles, wore his blue and black suit that was still slightly too big on his wiry frame.

Tobya took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the manor. It was answered by an elderly man who let them inside and offered to take their coats. Mabel, unaccustomed to this, held her coat closer and said that she would very much like to keep it. Tobya apologized and all three handed him their coats. The butler guided them to a sitting room and told them to make themselves comfortable.

Odysseus took his sweet time getting to the three siblings. When he finally came into the parlor, he was wiping something off of his slender hands with a towel, a grim look on his handsome face. He set the towel on one of the desks and sat, flicking sepia hair out of stormy eyes. Tobya caught a look of the towel and all she could see was a deep red. She managed her small gasp into a polite cough.

“I see you decided to come, Ms Oleander. Did you want to join our Society?”

Tobya nodded and cleared her throat. “If you would be kind, me and my siblings live in the next town over, could we perhaps have lodgings while I work here? I know I shouldn't ask but, I can’t afford to~”

Odysseus held up his hand and smiled. “It’s fine, you’ll have lodgings and food for both you and your siblings.” Tobya thanked him and he shrugged. “Don’t mention it, Ms Oleander. First, a few rules.” Odysseus went over a few common rules and regulations. “The final request and rule is that you stay out of the basement. That is no place for you. Now that that is settled, let’s talk about your position.”

Tobya started her work as a Writer of The Society of Recorders the very next week. She enjoyed writing the small short stories for The Society’s big fables tome, and often added her own illustrations that the actual Illustrators hated. The only odd thing that she could find about her job was the unusual amount of people that went in and out of the basement to the Kasse Manor. But Tobya didn’t mind. She had her siblings, a job she only dreamt of , and a comfortable, if not cozy, house to live in.

Odysseus had given her 5 300 page books, 7 quills and 3 pots of red ink to start with. He said that the ink was a home perfected recipe that insured the ink would never fade.

It was all great.

That was, until Tobya found the first corpse.

Tobya was on the way to the kitchens for an incredibly late night snack. She had been up writing for hours, but she couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close to finishing the book. She padded down the steps that led to the kitchens, a singular candle in hand. She didn’t know her way around the manor well, but she knew the kitchen was down 2 flights of steps. After 1 flight, she began to think it was 3 flights. Tobya went down another flight just to be safe.

She reached a door at the bottom of the steps. Her brow furrowed. There wasn’t a door to the kitchens, it was all open.

Maybe she was misremembering. Nervous, she nudged open the door. The door slowly creaked open and a coppery smell hit her. She held a handkerchief to her nose with her left hand and stepped into the kitchen. There, in harsh white hospital-like lights was a dead body, the blood leaking out into a drain that dripped the red liquid into jars. Tobya bit back a scream. She heard voices. Panicky, she shut the door and bolted up all the stairs, her want for a snack completely gone.

The next morning, Tobya didn’t get out of bed. Her younger siblings were already outside, playing in the Kasse Manor’s large backyard maze. The room from last night had haunted her in her dreams: Sometimes the body got up and chased her, others it was her siblings, and occasionally Odysseus found her down there and then all went black. Tobya rolled onto her left side and faced away from the window.

Odysseus knocked on her door and asked to enter. She responded weakly and sat up. Odysseus came in with a tray of breakfast. He sat it on her desk and seated himself in her Writer’s chair.

“Ms. Oleander I had wondered if you finished your newest story?”

Tobya nodded and pointed to the stack of paper on her desk. He picked them up, briefly looking through them. “Ah, I knew I was right to recruit you. You write so fast and yet the stories are all thought out and rather detailed.” Tobya smiled as a way of a thank you. “You are awfully quiet, Tobya, is everything alright?”

No. No,Odysseus I am not alright at all, she thought. She liked the way Odysseus said her name, with the emphasis on the “To” and not the “Bya” part.

“Everything is fine, Mr. Kasse. I’m just feeling a little… under the weather,” She coughed for added effect. Obviously she laid it on too much.

“You can talk to me,” He offered. She shook her head and he stood, exiting her room. “I’ll let you rest, Ms Oleander, I’d advise you to stay in your room until you feel better.”

Odysseus shut the door and Tobya sank back into her bed.

God help me what the hell?

Tobya, after sleeping for an extra four hours, got up and sat at her Writer’s desk. She shuffled up some paper and took out one of the 3oo page books, flipping to the last used page. She unstoppered the ink pot, dipping her quill into the ink and brought it to the page. Tobya paused. What was that smell?

She looked around. It smelled like copper and warm metal. She sniffed the page of the book and then the quill. Tentatively, she picked up the inkpot and sniffed the ink. It smelled like copper and warm metal~ like…blood.

Tobya dropped the inkpot, the image of the body on the table flooding through her mind, the smell of the rotting body and the sight of all that blood. The blood… shit. The blood.

Tobya jumped out of her chair and stumbled to the bathroom that connected to her bedroom. She barely made it before she vomited on the linoleum floor. Oh my god, the ink is blood~what the hell is going on? She heaved again but nothing came up. She leaned against the sink and counted to thirteen, then started to clean up the mess.

What exactly is The Society of Recorders?

Tobya took a deep breath and carried on writing.

The next day, Odysseus was nowhere to be found. She looked everywhere for him, in all the libraries, in the numerous Writing rooms and Illustrating halls, the countless Recording studios and Readers nooks. He was nowhere and none of the staff would say where he was.

Except Tobya knew. He was in the basement. And she wanted to know what he was doing.

Late that night, Tobya crept down the stairs, careful to not make any noise along the way. She had an escape plan~ say that she was on her way to the kitchen but misremembered the way. If that didn't work, then she would most likely be out of a job.

After a few minutes, she reached that solid metal door. She took a deep breath and eased it open slowly. The room was dark and barely lit by two dim overhead lights that glowed blue~ish white. In the center of the room, was a stainless steel mortuary table that had a different body on it this time. She crept in the room, holding a handkerchief to her nose and peering around. Nobody seemed to be in here so she shut the door behind and went over to the body.

It was a girl with dark ebony skin and used~to~be~shiny black hair. Her blue eyes were lifeless and dull. She wore nothing but a thin blue hospital gown that barely covered her legs. Tobya noted a dripping noise and when she looked around, she saw the drain and the jars. The girl was being drained for her blood. Her mind flitted to the ink that she used to write her books and stories.

“Ms Oleander.” She looked up and saw a figure in the shadowy corner. It stepped forward. “What was my last rule? Don’t. Go. Into. The. Basement.” Odysseus cracked his knuckles and stepped closer to Tobya. She stepped back, not wanting to be near him. “Why are you down here?”

“I wanted to see where you were, and this was the only place I hadn’t checked.” She was surprised that her voice didn’t shake. “What are you doing here? With The Society of Recorders? What exactly is The Society?”

Odysseus sighed and ran a hand through his long silky hair. “We write stories.”

“Then why the bodies? Why use the blood for the ink?”

“To bring the stories to life, dear Tobya. The outlines we send you for your stories, they are all real stories that happened to people. The people preferred to stay anonymous so they did. Like her.” He pointed to the girl on the table. “Her name was Marjani.” There was sadness in his eyes. “The blood of the person whose story it was…It brings the story to life. It makes it real, it makes people read the words with understanding.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. It was my mother’s idea, but she passed and left the legacy to me.”

“Why?”

Silence stared at them. The silence felt like an eternity.

“You weren’t supposed to find out. None of the Writers are allowed to know. Not until you become a Recorder. YOu can’t know this.”

“Odysseus…I’ll keep my mouth shut, I swear, Mr Kasse,”

“It’s too late, Tobya. I’m sorry.”

“Odysseus. NO.”

He advanced toward her, hands raised. She braced for the blow but it never came. Instead he put his hands on her shoulders and said “I am giving you a chance to forget this and leave. I will pay you to forget, I’ll pay however much you want. You need to leave before I’ll have to kill you too. Please.”

“Odysseus…but~”

“Tobya. Live or die. Do you want to keep reading?”

She knew her answer.

Tobya Oleander enjoyed reading and writing more than anything. She personally enjoyed stories that made her feel things, like sadness and betrayal and anger and happiness. She loved these stories because she knew they were real.

They were written in red ink and the red ink brought them to life.