Chapter Text
"Well that's it, Mr Fitz, the place is all yours. No turning back now," the solicitor declared with a very nervous laugh as he dropped the keys into Fitz's hand. Fitz would have thought they were red hot the way the older man looked relieved to be rid of them.
"Thank you Mr. Poe. And thank you for taking care of all the paperwork so quickly."
"My pleasure. Really. Well, good evening then. And best of luck to you," the man replied. And without even waiting for Fitz to reply, he turned around and started walking away.
Frowning, Fitz looked down at the surprisingly heavy set of keys. Two had to be for the main door, one for the office inside, possibly one for some sort of safe but what were those three others for?
"Wait Mr. Poe, I don't even know what those keys are..." Fitz trailed off when he realized that the strange little man was already out of earshot, practically running away, his long overcoat flapping in the cold September wind.
Fitz would have been taken aback or even a little spooked but everything surrounding this store was a little strange anyway. He was well aware of all the stories people told about this place. He knew that none of the previous owners kept it for more than a year because it was supposed to be haunted and that, despite being in a prime location in a busy street in the heart of York, it had been on the market for almost a year before Fitz bought it for a lot less than it was worth. But Fitz didn't believe in ghosts or curses. He believed in faulty wiring, creaky hinges and an incredible opportunity when he saw one. It had been his dream to open an old, spooky bookstore full of old and strange books since he was a little boy but, as an adult, he never expected to be able to afford one before he was thirty.
There was a rumble and Fitz looked up at the darkened sky just in time for a fat droplet of rain to fall on his forehead. Having somehow forgotten to bring an umbrella, at the beginning of autumn, in York of all places, Fitz hurried to try a few keys before finally managing to unlock the door that creaked ominously as Fitz pushed it open and quickly walked in.
Looking around, he found a switch on the left side of the door and flicked it on, wincing as the fluorescent lights cast a sickly, almost aggressive light over the place. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened his note app.That was going on the list of things to change and renovate before the opening. Good thing he got such a good deal that he even had a comfortable budget for renovations. As he took the two steps down to enter the main area, he added "ramp?" on his note app then moved to the wooden shelves along the walls. The ugly beige wallpaper would also have to go, but overall, the place was better than anything he could have dreamed of. He loved the creaky wooden floor, the unusual shape of the room with its nooks and crannies where he could already imagine installing special little themed displays. Or maybe a little bench with cushions for people to sit and take the time to decide before buying their book. Or more likely, it would be Binx's spot since Fitz would be living in the apartment upstairs and he couldn't imagine the clingy little fur ball spending all his days alone. And what was a spooky old bookstore without a black cat anyway?
The previous owner had left a lot of his stock. Really it was almost like he'd left one day and never come back. Fitz almost expected to find a half eaten sandwich somewhere and money in the cash register. But there was apparently none of that so Fitz took a look around instead, picking out dusty books to get an idea of the kind of things he had to start with. Lots of classics apparently, which was always good. In one of the little hidden corners, he found what looked like a book of spells, which wouldn't have surprised him that much, he'd walked past a Harry Potter shop just a few minutes walk away from here that also had spell books. But this one looked actually old, its binding made of leather and the pages yellowed by time, not photoshop. Or at least that was what it looked like. He turned a few pages, appreciating the distinctive crinkly old book sound it made, and was marveling at the very delicate illustrations that accompanied the text when a strong gust of wind made the wood crack all around. Shaking his head at his own startled reaction, he wondered if this kind of thing had been enough to give the place the reputation that it was haunted.
Then the lights flickered, turned back on for a second and turned off entirely, leaving Fitz in a semi-darkness. "Well, that would do it," he said to himself, chuckling as he closed the book and put it back where he found it.
"Alright, time to get to work."
A month later
"Good night. Thank you for coming. Good night," Fitz said, standing by the door as the last group of people, mostly other shop owners from the neighborhood, left his store.
"Goodbye Mrs James, I'll have your books by Monday. You can pick them up whenever you want."
"Thank you dear," the sweet older lady said with a wide smile she seemed to always have on but Fitz was certain had gotten even wider with every glass of wine. "Good night."
With one last look around to check that everyone had left, Fitz closed the door and locked up before turning the open/closed sign with a happy sigh. He was exhausted and he still had a lot of cleaning up to do but it had been a good first day. A very good first day in fact.
In just a little over a month, Fitz had managed to do most of the renovations he'd wanted to do, from the wooden walls and floors he'd polished and waxed to the electrical system he'd fixed, without forgetting the new, dark green wallpaper which he was very proud of. He'd done most of it on his own since it was ridiculously hard to find anyone willing to work in this shop except a few of his friends. And even they had been a little bit ridiculous on a few occasions. But, thankfully, clients didn't mind the possibility of being in a haunted bookstore for a moment. In fact, since Halloween was only a few days away, Fitz had decided to lean into the haunted bookstore narrative and had decided to throw a themed opening party from closing time to midnight and it had been a success. Sure, some people had just been curious to see what he'd done with the place but lots of people had come in to actually buy books and quite a few of them had stayed until the end of the party.
Overall, this first day bode well for the future of the shop. And tonight had been worth it even though he'd be tired in the morning. Stifling a yawn, he went to get a big cardboard box behind the counter and started piling glasses, small plates and cutlery to bring them up to his apartment upstairs to wash. After that, he made quick work of putting away the leftover food and drinks and cleaning up everything else until all that was left to do was sweep the floor. Which he would do in the morning since it was quite dark in the shop and he didn't feel like turning on the harsh overhead lights at the moment.
A movement caught his eye on the other side of the shop and Fitz frowned. He thought Binx had gone up a while ago, most certainly annoyed with all the people and their refusal to share their food. And the little black cat was indeed nowhere to be found. Probably just a shadow or someone walking by the store, Fitz thought as he still bent over to check under the bookshelves. Binx wouldn't be happy if Fitz locked him in there all night.
"I like what you've done with the place."
Fitz startled, hitting his head against a shelf as he stood up. He started grumbling about it as he rubbed his forehead but the words died in his throat when he saw her. The woman he could only guess had just talked and prompted him to hit his head. She was standing right behind him, the amused smile on her lips contradicting her somehow shy posture, with her hands linked in front of her.
Fitz would have been annoyed, and in truth he was a little bit, but she was so pretty he was distracted for a moment. Her wide hazel eyes and full lips even made him forget for a moment that she wasn't supposed to be here.
"Uh...thank you? But I-I didn't do much really, just restored it to its initial state."
She took a few steps closer. "Oh I'm sure you did a little bit more than that, Mr. Fitz."
"I uh..." She was right, he was being modest. Why was he being modest? He lacked confidence in many domains but not when it came to what he was able to do when he put his brain and his hands together. He supposed she was just very distracting. And a little...strange. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, were you here tonight? I don't think I saw you."
He would have noticed someone like her for sure but he wasn't going to say that. That would have sounded like a line when it was just fact.
"Oh you wouldn't have. I avoid big crowds. I don't want to scare people off."
Fitz frowned. "Why...why would you scare people off? You look perfectly lovely to me."
So much for not wanting his words to sound like a line. And really, there was definitely something a little strange about her but she was very pretty and, he thought, kind of flirty so, apparently, it wasn't his brain controlling his mouth at the moment.
She gave him a wide smile and took another step closer. His heart jumped in his chest. "How nice of you to say, Dr. Fitz."
It took him a moment to take his eyes away from her lips to realize what she'd just said. "How do you know I'm a doctor?"
"That man called you that the other day. I think it was last week when you were working on the wiring. I meant to ask a doctor of what, by the way?"
A shiver ran down his spine and he took a step back. She seemed to ignore his reaction and took another step closer. "I would say literature since you own a bookstore but you also seem rather inclined towards science so--"
"I'm sorry, what are you doing here? We're actually closed now."
She seemed surprised for just a second before an easy smile spread over her face and she said matter-of-factly: "Oh, I'm afraid I can't leave this place."
Fitz's eyes widened. His hand slowly slid to his back pocket but he remembered he'd left his phone on the counter. Was she some sort of stalker? She didn't look dangerous but that was what everyone usually said about serial killers. Nice, friendly people you'd never think could hide dead bodies in their basement. Or in someone else's bookstore basement.
"Oh I'm sorry, that sounded threatening!" she said, lifting her hands up as if to appease a scared animal. "Don't worry I'm not here to hurt you or anything. I physically can't. No it's just that I kind of live here. For lack of a better word," she added with a nervous little laugh.
So not a serial killer but possibly delusional. Which didn't bode much better for him if most horror movies were to be believed.
"What do you mean?" he asked as calmly as he could. "I've been here for over a month, I think I'd know if someone else lived here."
"Come on, I'll show you my book, it'll make things clearer."
"What? What do you--"
She started towards the back of the store where he'd stocked some of the old books left by the previous owner that he still didn't know what to do with.
"No please. I'd rather you left now," Fitz cried out but she ignored him and carried on faster instead.
His eyes widening in disbelief, Fitz just had the time to see her walk through a bookshelf before he hit his head against it full force then collapsed on his back and lost consciousness.