He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late.

Leafy tendrils stretched from the book and brushed her cheek. She didn’t stir. On she slept, unaware of the creeping threat. Hadn’t he told her to stay away from his library? Hadn’t he explained to her the danger of his books? And yet here she lay, that book lying mere inches from her sleeping form.

“Stupid girl,” he grunted.

Vines slowly encircled her neck. In spite of himself, he started forward. No one – no matter how stupid – deserved so ill a fate. The barrier forced him back. He cursed under his breath. He was powerless now. She had opened the book, and she had to face the consequences. He bit his lip as more vines sprouted from the pages, wrapping around her wrists, elbows, and shoulders. The vines tightened and began to tug her into the book.

She yawned, blinked, and looked down at herself, confused. The plants pulled on her body, but she was too stunned to resist. Her hand disappeared into the pages of book.

That’s when the screaming began.