Jinn, of the bottle

Chapter 2
The little shopkeeper

Chapter Description: The shopkeeper pays a very high price.

Inside the store, the little store keeper had locked up his shop, his till’s takings were placed neatly onto the counter as he spun the wheel on the safe’s door. With a creak it opened, before him placed neatly was an object that shouldn’t be, gasping with horror the little man wheeled slamming shut the open safe.

With his back to the safe he trembled, praying to the ceiling in a host of tongues, brandishing numerous religious tokens worn under his collar.

Inside was an object, it was not was he was expecting to see, it was thin, flat and wrapped in a green velvet cloth bound by golden cords of silken rope. “No” he whispered, “no it can’t be.”

Gingerly he re-opened the safe, with many a deep breath he wiped away the beads perspiring from his brow. His fingers trembled as they reached for it, touching the cloth for the briefest of instances, his heart thumped as a clap of thunder bellowed across the skies, he reeled from the safe and leapt down from his box hiding under the counter whimpering as the coward he is.

A bolt of lightening ripped across the sky, illuminating the shop momentarily, the wind screamed against the shop as its lights flickered and dimmed, the ground shook and a bulb smashed whilst a tree branch rapped on the windows to the terror of the little man.

From the safe above the velvet object teetered on edge, moved by the touch so gingerly made, with each howling gust the object teetered more so until finally it fell, so slowly, so delicately, the ties flailing, unravelling in a twirl as it descended unto the floor.

Striking the floor, it didn’t bounce or crash, it simply danced and spun to arrest beside the small man’s box, the velvet wrap partially undone it covered the glistening silver backing of a hand mirror before him.

The man remained cowering, whimpering under his counter brandishing his cane as if it were a weapon. The cane shivered in the frail hands of the man.

As he prod a howl of thunder bellowed across the skies, the wind whistled with fury as lightening lit up the heavens, the velvet wrap was flapping, lifting, still the wind hurled abuse on the shop windows, the lights were flickering and the trees were clattering their branches against windows, rattling and beating as the velvet peeled away from the object by the wind forcing entry to the shop, the revealed surface of a silver mirror was exposed as the whimpering man crouched to the floor in fear covering his ears, trembling in fear, “No, No” he screamed, from the glass erupted an arm, gnarled and weathered it reached, the mirror hollered and screamed whilst the shop keep scurried back under his counter, the arm searched the floor desperately snatching and reaching in hast and rage.

“No, Please, No I don’t want to, please, I don’t want anything, please” cried the little man as the arm grabbed his rigid left leg by the ankle, pulling hard as the man grabbed onto the counter, “please, I’m not ready, please, please” the arm squeezed harder, crushing the bones of the leg as the man screamed in agonising pain.

The arm squeezed harder recoiling the man lost his grip on the counter, he reached out grabbing at anything he could, scrabbling about but to no avail, his till tray tumbled, coins spilled to the floor rolling and splashing about as he dug his nails into the hard grain of the floor. The wood splintered as his nails peeled away from the tips of his fingers bleeding profusely as the arm pulled him into the mirror screaming.

The last lively coin rolled on the shop floor weaving and dodging all objects, twirling in the dust of the forbidden section where it spun to a rest under the furthest most rear shelf. It came to lay in the dust with the shop keepers pain stricken face imprisoned on the face of the coin, trapped beneath the coin’s surface.