"The Tome of Dissidius" by Dante Crossroad

"Really, LaKeisha?" Tiffany asked me. "You're gonna stay late again?"

"What can I say?" I laughed. "Being alone with all these books makes me feel right at home and helps me wind down after a long day?"

"If you say so," she replied, turning to leave. "I'm off for the weekend, so I'll catch you Monday."

She locked the doors as she left. I wasn't gonna tell her that my girlfriend broke up with me and moved out, that I didn't wanna go home to an empty apartment because I just couldn't accept the silence yet. She didn't deserve to know me like that, especially because she'd probably just reply with some casually homophobic bullshit. I would rather hang out at the library by myself and cry in peace.

I couldn't stop thinking about how I wouldn't hear Shaunda cussing at whatever game she would be playing on her PS5 as I walked up to the door. How a fresh, steaming pot of alfredo wouldn't be waiting for me once I got home. God, I loved her alfredo so much. It hurt. It felt like I might die. We butted heads a lot, sure, but what relationship doesn't have its problems? She was the only girl who didn't care that I was bisexual or goth. Hell, she even swooned with me over how gorgeous Patricia Morrison looked in the This Corrosion music video by The Sisters of Mercy. She was such a catch. But I suppose it just wasn't meant to be. And that thought made me weep.

As I sat at the table in the Thriller/Suspense section with my face buried in my arms, sobbing as hard as I could, a loud thud shook me. I gasped as I jumped in my chair and looked around the library. Nobody was there. I thought I was imagining things at first. But then I saw it: a faded red book, as thick as one of the last three Harry Potter books, if not thicker, entitled The Tome of Dissidius. I looked around the library again.

"Is someone there?" I called. I waited a beat. No response. "The library is closed, so you need to leave."

Dead silence. I looked back to the book. Who the hell was Dissidius? A Greek philosopher? Italian romanticist? Did I skip school the day we were supposed to learn about them? The book's title sounded ancient, so it had to be someone from, like, the Shakespearean era or something like that, right? I looked up once more to make sure I was alone. I definitely was. It was so deathly quiet in there, you could have heard a pin drop on the carpet several sections away.

"We are quite alone, my dear," I heard someone say. I whipped around in my chair, frantically looking about.

"I know you think you funny," I said firmly (well, as firmly as I could with my voice quivering), "but I will absolutely beat yo ass, then call the cops and tell 'em I did it!"

"I assure you, my dear," the voice came again, "I haven't an arse to beat. I haven't had one for, oh...three, four centuries. Give or take fifty or so years."

I slowly turned back around to the faded red book before me. I had to be losing my mind. Did this thing for real just talk to me? Well, obviously it did, as evidenced by the Joker-like, toothy grin illustration that I knew damn well wasn't there before.

"Greetings, LaKeisha. My name is Dissidius. How do you do?"

I screamed and bolted to the door. I'm a black girl. Black girls do not play this Edgar Allen Lovecraft mess, goth or not! Just before I reached the door, though, there it was. The book was floating right between me and the exit. With another scream, and my heart jumping into my throat, I fell flat on my ass. Have you ever tried to run for your life in platform boots? Yeah, I wouldn't advise it. Ever.

"Listen, I know this has to be a rather frightful experience," the book said to me, "but I assure you I mean you no harm."

"Th-then what d-d-do you want?" I stammered. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My anxiety was through the roof. I wasn't even concerned with how it knew my name. There was a book talking to me, and it wasn't just in my head.

"Only to help you," the book said. "I have seen your pain, your anguish. You don't deserve to suffer as you are."

The talking book not only had insight into my personal life...it had a freaking heart! I most definitely was not in Kansas anymore.

"How...do you know me?" I managed to squeeze out, terror and confusion practically strangling me.

"Does it really matter? I wish to help you. Will you allow me to do so?"

"What help can you possibly offer me?"

"Open me. Step into my world. And find out. You need only trust me. No harm will come to you, I promise."

I hesitated. This creepy ass, floating book was somehow going to help me, take my pain away, make the heartache end. They say if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Well, against my better judgment, I ignored that all important adage.

I got to my feet and took the book into my quivering hands. I walked the book back to the table I was sitting at and sat down. I flattened my hands on either side of it and stared at it with equal parts disbelief and blind hope. Could this book, this Tome of Dissidius, really do for me what it said it could? My heart hurt so much from loneliness and depression, I was ready to believe anything.

"Take your time, dear child," the book said softly. "I know how bizarre and sudden this must be for you, and I wouldn't blame you for changing your mind. For the record, you are more than free to leave me where I am and return to your life. Walk out those doors, you will never see me again. However, I do implore you to at least allow me the opportunity to show you what I have to offer."

I had nothing to lose at that point. I took a deep breath. I opened the book and was met with a blinding flash of light. A second later, I found myself standing in what appeared to be a penthouse suite. I’d never been in one before, and its sheer size alone was nigh on unfathomable. My apartment could have easily fit inside the living room a good three or four times. And it was so lavish, having three velvet couches, a marble coffee table in the center, and the crimson carpet was absolutely to die for. What really impressed me, though, was looking out the window, which spanned the entirety of the living room, to see the skyline of New York City. Bruh, how did I get in New York City?! I don’t live anywhere near there!

"It's a lot to take in, I'm sure," said the book from behind me. Well, the voice was that of the book anyway. When I spun around to look, however, I saw a fine ass androgynous, black person wearing a three-piece suit that was just as fine. Was this really the voice I'd been talking to in book form? 

"I'm sure you've gathered by now," they said, "but I am Dissidius."

I stood with my mouth wide open for a hot minute. This person was inhumanly good-lookin'. Like, imagine if Grace Jones were five times hotter and then double that. When I could finally form words again, I asked them what their pronouns were.

"I'm a man," he chuckled. "My pronouns are he/him, but that's not what's important here. The important question is what do you want or need from me?"

"I, uh…" I started. "How can you make my pain go away?"

Before I knew it, he'd taken me into his strong, warm arms and pressed his lips against mine. I don't know what came over me, but my entire body flooded with ungodly desire. I threw my arms around him without thinking about it. I jumped up and slapped my legs around his waist. I wanted him so badly, so suddenly, and I cannot explain what kind of magic brought out such carnal behavior in me. Shaunda had brought it out of me on multiple occasions. But I was not thinking about her. The very next second, we were in the bedroom, ripping each other's clothes off, kissing, biting, caressing each other. I couldn't tell you how long we went at it for, but my God the stamina on this being right here, not to mention his skill!

After an eternity of passionate lovemaking, we cuddled nude, drenched in sweat, both of us breathing heavily. Dissidus kissed my forehead and asked me with a voice of pure honey, "How are you feeling now, my dear?"

I had to think for a minute to remember how sad I was earlier, but I couldn't for the life of me remember why I was sad.

"I'm...I'm amazing," I cooed, gazing into his piercing, golden eyes. I hadn't noticed their color before. They weren't a light, shimmering brown. No, his irises looked as though they'd been carved of solid gold, which made his gaze utterly entrancing. "How are you such a good lover?"

"I've had centuries to practice. Unfortunately, those centuries have been most lonely, unbearably so. I figured if I am to find companionship, I should at least be worthwhile in bed."

"Well, you most certainly are. No doubt about that." I laughed and snuggled into him. This was the happiest I'd been all week. I didn't want it to end. Sadly...it had to end.

"Stay with me, LaKeisha," he proposed. "Stay with me, and I promise you you will never feel sad another day in your life."

I sat up and smiled at him. "The offer is tempting, it really is. Somehow, I know you have that power...but…"

"But...?" 

"But...I can't. The fact is I probably cried myself to sleep at the library, which means this is all a dream. An extremely pleasant one, don't get me wrong. But it’s still just a dream."

"What if it isn't? This doesn't have to be a hit and run, as the kids say."

I laughed. "You funny. Regardless of what the kids say, I gotta wake up."

"LaKeisha. Please do not abandon me. I simply could not bear it." There was sorrow in his tone. But there was also an eerie coldness to it.

"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy. We had some great sex, but I'm leavin', baby."

"LaKeisha. You. Cannot. Abandon me." He obviously wasn't a Carly Rae Jepsen fan because the honey voice turned to acid real quick. Just as well, the temperature of the room plummeted what had to be a couple dozen degrees.

I slowly slid off the bed and reached down for my clothes. "Look, we had a good time, but you're starting to scare me. I just wanna go home and process my grief in peace, okay?"

"I scare you, eh?" He sat up. Such a simple movement, yet it chilled me to the bone. "That's what my peers said of me. It's why they gave me the name Dissidius...the one who creates conflict."

I gathered my clothes into my arms. There was no time to put them on. I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, and I needed to do it yesterday! "Look, I don't really care what your old homies decided to call you, but it ain't none of my business, okay? I'm gone."

"Through what door?"

The question froze my spine. As I gazed about the room, I could see no doors or even windows. I'd had some freaky ass dreams before, but this one really took the cake. I was ready to be done with it. 

"Please, just let me go," I pleaded. "You said you would do me no harm. Please, just let me go."

Dissidius rose from the bed and stalked toward me. "You're giving me that same despicable look they gave me. As long as my power pleased them, they loved me, adored me, but the moment I asked for something in return, they distanced themselves from me. Why are you doing to me what they did all those centuries ago?" 

As he approached me, I pressed myself against the wall, my heart trying desperately to escape as my thoughts raced for a way for me to do the same. I slumped to the floor once he was upon me.

"Please…" I whined, helpless. "Don't do this to me."

"I made that same plea. The next I knew, I was sealed inside my own grimoire." He crouched down in front of me, slamming his hands against the wall, barring me in. "I can give you everything you have ever wanted. You need only love me, remain here with me, and the world can be yours."

I don't know whether or not he realized it, but his voice did not match the sweetness of his words, not remotely. His voice carried a veiled threat. Every word stabbed into me, intent on shredding my sanity. The room got colder. I sobbed on the floor. I just wanted to go home. 

"LaKeisha⸺"

"Just let me go!" I shrieked. The room quaked as my voice rang out. Everything around me shattered like glass, and I fell through a horrific, endless void that wailed and clawed at me.

"LaKeisha!" He called for me, his voice distorted, otherworldly, and terrifying. Every hair on my body stood on end as I fell. The longer I fell, the more distant his voice became. Just before I passed out, I heard one final whine: "Please...don’t leave me."

I crashed into something. I lay there, wherever there was, holding my shoulders, crying, trying to catch my breath. As my crying slowed and my breath steadied, I could hear nothing. It was stark silent all of a sudden. Dissidius' voice and that of his void disappeared. I cautiously opened my eyes. I was in the library again. My chair was on its back about a foot away from me, and I was fully clothed. I was confused. And still terrified. Had it all really been a dream? I got to my feet, looking around the room. Nobody was there. I was alone once more. Then I saw that faded red book on the table. The Tome of Dissidius. I crept back over to it. The smile on the cover was gone. The book was silent. I reached out to open it again, just to see if it would pull me back in, to see if it really was just a bad dream. I stopped. I listened to my gut instinct this time. I was not gonna touch that weird ass book again.

I checked the time on my phone. Only twenty minutes had passed since Tiffany left. I knew I was in that book for at least a couple of hours, though. Wasn't I? It didn't matter. I gathered my things and bolted for the door, setting the alarm and making sure the place was locked up good and tight before taking off. 

I'm not quite sure what went down that night in the library, but it was freaky as shit. I'm not quite sure who or what Dissidius is or was, and frankly, I don't care. All I know for sure is my therapist would never believe this. A bottle of Grey Goose certainly would, though. And damn, did I ever need one.