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The story begins with the young boy Rook Ramsey. A pale lad who hasn't much but the clothes on his back. Traveling along the world, always taking the road not taken, finding new novelties to bring joy to his life and feed his hunger of curiosity.
One abnormally cloudy day, Rook found an old and abandoned town by the name of Helkingburg. All the houses were in bad shape, with shingles hanging by the tip, windows cracked, gardens dead, and wells dried up. Rook was beginning to wonder if he should leave the town and find fun elsewhere. But just then, he heard someone beckoning in an old workshop.
Rook knew better than to follow voices from abandoned houses, but curiosity got the best of him. He went inside to investigate the source of the peculiar sound. The house was filled with the usual cliches, spider webs but no spiders, dust but no one to clean it up, and other messes that made Rook cringe at the thought of getting his clothes dirty.
Rook was almost fed up with the lack of any new discovery and he was about to leave, that was until he heard a voice from a dusty glass case on the wall. It was big enough to hold a person! As Rook stepped closer ever so slowly, the voice from the case sounded as if it was getting impatient. With comments such as "What stopped you from walking at normal pace?" and "When someone finally arrives to my side he's glued to the floor!" made Rook aggravated, and as a result made him walk even slower.
Rook blew the dust off the glass to reveal a truth so shocking, so unforgettable, so mind blowing, so wildly absurd that the author had to think up crazy ways to add suspense to the already obvious conclusion!
What Rook found was a...silhouette of a young girl.
Rook wasn't pleased with anti-climactic discovery, and after a few minutes of no response Rook turned around to leave. Then he heard a whistle and turned around. The silhouette was in the shape of Rook himself now! "Paper shouldn't be able to change shape like that."
"Says who?" replied the silhouette.
"Nor should it be able to talk," added Rook.
"And a human shouldn't be so pale," said the silhouette in a witty manner.
Rook, remembering his manners stuck out his hand for a hand shake. "Where are my manners? My name is Rook Ramsey, but please call me Rook."
"How wonderful, I would love to shake your hand, I really would. But as you can see, this glass case makes it hard for me to do so," replied the silhouette.
"You're a magic silhouette with the power to shape shift and speech, but you couldn't get out of a simple glass case?" replied in an even wittier manner.
"Oh yes, paper can definitely break through glass, how silly of me," it said quite sarcastically.
Rook turned around pondering on what he should do next. On one hand, a talking silhouette can be the fun he was looking for. On the other a talking, shape shifting piece of paper isn't something one can trust. "I guess you don't want to leave that cozy, glass container of yours," said Rook while walking away, smirking.
"Wait, wait! I'm sorry for my rude comments! But being in a glass cage can make one grumpy, you know? I'm sorry please break me free!" pleaded the silhouette, turning back to it's original shape.
Rook thought a bit. Of course he had it all thought out, one false move and splash of water would be all it takes. "Okay fine, but you better not do anything funny," with that said, Rook proceeded to taking an old chair and using it to break open the glass box releasing the enchanted paper. It stretched out it's arms and legs and proceeded to turn to Rook. They both gave a long stare, neither giving a single blink, until it stuck out it's hand.
"My name's Sylvia Ette. And the narrator can stop using 'it' and start using 'she' anytime it feels appropriate." she said, rather rudely, not knowing she broke the ever so precious fourth wall.
"Pleased to meet you Sylvia!" Rook said while shaking her hand. "Why were you locked up in that glass case?"
"Oh, no reason," She said with a remarkably sinister grin. "No reason what so ever. Though, I'm why everyone left this town."
"Well you are rather annoying," Rook said, reminding her of her comments that were said earlier before.
"Out of curiosity, did you think that if I were to go rouge, what would you do?" asked Sylvia acting curious.
"Well, I was going to take a bucket of water and just throw it at you if you were to do anything that was ominous," said Rook, quite confident that he had things under control.
"Did you happen to know," now Sylvia seemed to be even more sinister than a moment ago, "there is no water in the wells around here?" With that being said Rook's confidence broke in half.
"Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't harm you. You seem to be tons of fun." said Sylvia just a bit less threatening than before. She took a seat on a table that was near by, her paper legs swaying on a draft from the run-down walls.
"That sounds like a challenge," Rook said, with a new found courage. "What may be the catch?"
"Well, it can get boring around here, especially with no one around to entertain me," she said. "And the last thing I want is more people around to prosecute me for every little thing, so I want to go to sleep." Rook was very surprised at this request. "Sing a song, or make a melody, what ever it takes to make me go to sleep." Rook is no musician, nor is he a singer, but if there's one thing about him, it's that he never gives up.
"And if I refuse?" For the most part.
"I'll make your life an everlasting hell." said Sylvia in a very happy voice.
Rook's life was already miserable enough. The last thing he needs is a bothersome piece of paper. "Okay, deal."
"Great, now what will you do to make me sleep?"
"Close your eyes."
"..." Sylvia was not amused.
Obviously, Rook wasn't going to succeed in this impossible task. Making paper sleep? Rook was beginning to question such logic. Then it hit him. "I'll be right back, I know a great way to make you fall asleep," said Rook, as righteous as he could possibly be. "I just need to gather a few ingredients for this plan and you'll be asleep in no time!" With that said, he left the building. He walked at a normal pace for a few yards and then checked behind him to see if Sylvia was watching. Coast was clear. He hauled ass.
For a good hour or so Rook was running as fast as he could possibly run until stopping for rest. There was no way Sylvia could catch up to him, he thought. As he was walking down the trail he started to get sleepy himself. "I guess I can take a short nap," he said out loud. He sat down, back resting on a tree trunk and drifted away to sleep.
When he woke up it was unnecessarily bright out. The crows were cawing a happy tune, or as happy as crows can sound, which got Rook back in a cheerful mood. He forgot all about the events of the previous day and went on his way down the path.
A few miles down the road and Rook put his hands in his pockets and started to whistle a tune. He immediately stopped when he felt something inside his right pocket. He doesn't remember ever getting a map or taking any notes along the way. He took his hand out to hold up to his face a black, folded up piece of paper. And it began to giggle.