The door jingled, a small brass bell unsettled by the teenager roughly pushing the door open. The boy, Colton Reed, was a tall, All-American boy. Broad-shouldered, he was undoubtedly a football player, but if one was uncertain his letterman jacket was a dead giveaway. Looking around the store, his bright blue eyes surveyed the dusty knickknacks and forlorn looking instruments. He took a moment to brush his blonde hair up and to the side, even slightly windswept, he was the image of masculine beauty.
He walked into the store hoping to find something to buy for his girlfriend, a vain and demanding cheerleader by the name of Alice Barlow. Colton was hoping he could keep this gift cheap, because he needed to save for the 30 rack of beer he planned to pick up from the shady guy on the corner of Linnet street, not too far from the antique store he was in now. It was a chance to kill two birds with one stone.
Colton saw no one at the cash register, but he paid that no mind. He walked down an aisle of strange artifacts, not seeing anything jump out at him immediately. There were a wide assortment of objects to be had, though. Among the various items he saw a brooch that was a deep red, and all its facets glistened as if caught in a perfect day of light at every angle. Too garish for his Alice, though. Another item was a jade hairpin that seemed malevolent in some way. He prodded it with his finger out of curiosity, only to find it cold and uncomfortable on his calloused hands.
Further still in the store, he saw a pearl dish that hummed slightly as he walked close, and seemed to sob as he walked away. Strangest still was a mirror that reflected him with a smile - a maddening smile that would not quit. He was certainly not smiling, yet his image would only grimace. He left that item alone with much haste.
It was after a while, nearly an hour he’d wager, that he found an item that seemed to call to him. It was nothing he could see giving to Alice, but nonetheless there was an unmitigated attraction to the item. He was seduced by it, and he immediately grabbed it.
He held it up in his hands, a strange ivory stick that had the most curious of grips. On both ends was an ornate wrist guard, one that swooped under and around his right hand. Along the shaft was a grip that carried the same ornateness of the wrist guards. It appeared to be a coursing river.
The stick was mirrored though, he noticed. It seemed that if it was meant for one person, the wrist guard would fit a right hand on one side, and the left on the opposite. This was not the case, however. If extended from the right hand, another right hand would grasp it comfortably.
Colton, forgetting his girlfriend for the moment, marched to the front of the store. He approached the counter, expecting someone to be there after all the time he spent in the aisles. However, the counter was just as unmanned as when he entered. He looked around, expecting to see a person in a back room or sitting behind the counter. No one was in sight. It was only upon a closer inspection that he saw a note on the desk, framed in a plastic case.
“Enter and browse. The item you take is the item you need. No charge, and use the item well.”
Astonished by the charity of the store, Colton tucked the strange stick into his coats internal pocket. He left, and walked into the waning light of an afternoon melting into night.
As he emerged from the store, a sudden gust of wind blew towards him, scattering the fallen autumn leaves. It was a right whirlwind for a moment, his eyes assaulted by dust and grit from the nearby street. When he opened his eyes as the wind settled, he spun about to see a vacant lot. The store had vanished, only cement and asphalt where he had been a moment before.
In disbelief, he patted his jacket... sure enough, the ivory stick was there. An ominous feeling washed over him, but he brushed it off as exhaustion. He actually brushed off the whole experience, thinking he must have inadvertently walked down the street during the gust of wind blinding him.
He knew it was bullshit, but he also knew stores don’t just... disappear.