She had to force herself to take a few deep breaths so she didn't start going into that shock-like state she went into what could barely now even be recognized as, possibly, half an hour (or less) ago. Despite this, she still just stared at the manuscript in her hands. She was in her teacher's house. Without permission. Heck, he probably didn't even have a clue as to how they here there.

Now she really regretted letting Batim mess with his stuff. She was regretting all of this, really.

When she fully examined the room though, she knew she should have realized this sooner. It almost- actually, she did feel like a moron now. Who else would own this kind of stuff in this dull town? How did she not realize this before now? And she was meant to be smart.

That feeling of remorse only got worse when she started hearing something coming from somewhere around the room. It sounded a lot like growling and moaning, but when she glanced around, she didn't see the source. But the noises persisted. They sounded close, but where were they coming from? She even considered a second she was going insane until Batim dropped the shrunken head she was caressing on to the floor. She could hear it two.

It didn't comfort her though. It only meant the noises weren't in her head.

That's when she looked down and realized where the commotion was coming from; the very book she was holding. She reluctantly lifted it up closer to her ear, so she might be able to get a better idea of what was going on in the manuscript. For a little bit, she contemplated on the fact doing this was pointless. It wasn't like she was going to hear anything else but groaning and snarling.

She was genuinely surprised when she did though.

It was just one, raspy voice, but it almost made her... concerned. At least when she just heard animalistic noises, she didn't feel as if there was an actual person trapped in there, but now it sounded like there was one. All she could make out were the words "Let me out Stine!" within the other monstrous, gravelly noises.

She was almost entranced by it. She hadn't even realized Batim had knelt in front of her, showing another expression she'd never drawn her with; concern- just like she was feeling. But for some reason, she felt like it was concern for both her and the origin of the voice.

Batim hadn't had any clue why Abigail was grasping that novel like it frightened her. Why would anyone be frightened by a dusty old book? Then again, she couldn't understand how humans could be scared of any of the stuff in this room. If anything, the shrunken head in her hands just looked ridiculous.

But the noises from that book would have made her hairs stand up straight (What do people call it? Goosebumps?) if she had any. She didn't even realize that she dropped the artifact onto the floor. Instantaneously, her mind had gone back to all those years of being locked up and left behind in that studio. She didn't know why that popped into her head. She guessed that, in a way, she empathized with the lifeforms she heard within the pages of that book. They probably knew what it was like to be abandoned, just like her.

She didn't even know if those memories were even real now that she was real, but she still hoped Abigail, (or as she liked to call her, Abby or Abs), was right when she said they were. She desperately wanted them to be. It let her know that everything she went through wasn't fake- that it wasn't all a rouse. It helped make her feel as if she was just as real as everyone else. Her being made of ink didn't change that, and one of the last things she wanted was for it too.

"Hey, Abs, you alright?" she had asked the 14-year-old when she approached and knelt in front of her, who had still seemed a bit shook up when she lowered the book from her ear. She had to snap her fingers two times just to get her to snap out of it and look at her. (hah, pun!)

Abigail had nodded her head in response before replying "Yeah, I'm fine- I just..." She'd never continued her sentence, as she began to look back down to the cover of the manuscript again, clearly perplexed on the ongoing situation. She looked as if she had no real idea of what was happening.

That's when she noticed the lock on the book cover and the key on the desk. She'd seen some peculiar things in her time, or she hoped she did, but a lock on a book with people inside of it was pretty high up that list.

She stretched out her arm over to the desk, plucking the key off the writing station (that's what she assumed it was anyway) and shrunk her arm back to its normal length. She looked up at Abigail, who stared back at her, allowing a silent conversation to form. That's how close their bond was, even though Batim was only walking and talking for (what was likely) 3/4ths of an hour. And she was proud of that.

After what seemed like a few minutes, Abigail nodded her head. She must have known how important this was to her, and how those living beings deserved to be free like she was. After all- she made her.

"Let's do this." Abigail quietly stated, kneeling down on to the floor fully as she rested the book in front of her. Batim could feel herself beaming up with joy as she bent down a bit further, so she was a bit more at eye-level with her creator. She knew there wasn't any going back with this, and she was perfectly okay with that.

Abigail had no clue what she was doing, or why she thought it was a good idea. All she knew was that it seemed important to Batim. When she considered the story she wrote her with, she must be relating to how... whatever was in the book was feeling. So, she went along with it. She wouldn't have been able to handle seeing Batim's energy and optimism die.

She felt like she was being watched, even though Batim was looking at the book in anticipation. Then she realized something. If she could hear the beings in there, they may be able to hear her... maybe even see her, two.

She knew it was probably stupid, but she felt obligated to tell them something if they could hear everything they were saying. They at least needed to know they were about to be released. She carefully set the book down on the floor, sitting down in front of it, with Batim kneeling down on the other side.

"Ok... uh... we're going to let you out now- so... yeah." Abigail managed to stutter out, feeling utterly ridiculous while she did it. Batim seemed to nod in approval though. However, the things in the book seemed to get furious at this, as they began to scream, growl and moan much louder. She could even hear the only human-sounding voice among the crowd shouting louder as well. Then it degraded into what resembled arguing amongst them... like they were fighting over who got to come out and who didn't. But why would they be fighting at all?

"Ok- ok- uh, calm down- please-" she pleaded, but it didn't seem to have any positive affect. If anything, it began to increase in volume. That is, until Batim slammed her fist onto the book cover, causing everything inside of it to grow silent.

"Listen up, and listen well. We're going to let only ONE of you out for the time being. Then, when the time's right, we'll let you ALL out. No fighting about it either. If I hear a peep out of any of you in there, I will throw this book out that window and find a lake you fling you into. Got it?" Batim demanded.

She had such a strong sense of superiority and harshness in her tone. Even Abigail believed she would go along with her threat. Batim was designed to often be chaotic, energetic, and outright cartoony, but she had almost forgetten she also had a temper that could activate and go off the rails with certain cues and a lot of emotional, built-up sorrow. When it came down to it, Batim could be really good at laying down the law.

Abigail let out a breath she hadn't realized she held, then nodding towards Batim. The ink woman had soon inserted the key into the lock and turned, pulling it out, keeping it in her hand for later use.

They both had paused for a few seconds. They were expecting the cover to suddenly fly open on its own. It was actually pretty anti-climactic that it didn't. At least, that's how it felt to her.

Figuring she didn't have any other option, she slowly began to pull the book open. A pale blue light seemed to come from the pages of the manuscript, despite the lack of any logical source. Out of seemingly nowhere, a lot of things occur at once. What appeared to be the claws of zombies and a werewolf, vines of venus fly traps, the bandaged hands of some mummy, and even some weird pink, gelatinous blob could be seen squeezing their way out of the pages. They were all trying to squeeze their way out of the partially opened book, clearly impatient with each other in their attempts to be the one to come out first.

One hand in particular caught her attention- it looked relatively human, but kind of small- like a child's. 'Oh god, is that a kid in there!?' was the first thought that crossed her mind. She swayed away from the idea when she realized it was hitting the other creatures, trying to force them back into the book so he can get out first. It made her feel a little bad for the other creeps and crawls within the manuscript. They must have been in there for a long time if they were all so desperate to escape.

'Why would Stine make anyone suffer through this? I thought he was a good person...'

She didn't want to see them all go through such agony anymore. She stuck her hand within the madness. Batim was just trying to keep the book from opening up fully by using her bodyweight to push the cover down a bit, but she eased up slightly to accommodate for her. Abigail just shut her eyes tightly and attempted to grab a random hand, letting it be a choice of chance.

She could feel the touch of cold bandages, relatively soft yet wild fur, slimy... slime and vaguely fuzzy vines go against her skin, but none of the owners of said features seemed to get a decent hold on her. It was like something was holding them all back.

Eventually, she felt a hand that seemed to be composed of wood grip tightly on to her wrist with what she could only describe as super strength.

She tugged back with all her might as she heard the book be slammed shut and the lock click, permanently sealing the others in again until unlocked once more. She could also hear something slam into the bookshelf with a bit of force when that grip was released from her wrist. She could even recognize a slight groan of pain escape from that direction.

However, she couldn't hear any of the burnt books fall to the floor, so that was good. It was also good that she couldn't hear her English teacher come to the stairs. Stine could come up any minute after hearing any of the noises up here, but it meant there might be fewer sounds to attract his attention... if they didn't already catch it.

She finally opened her eyes to see Batim staring down at the book, then picking it up and putting it against her chest. She could see her put a bit of pressure against it and the book begin to sink into her chest until it enveloped it entirely. She'd almost forgotten she gave Batim the ability to store some things inside of her and then pull them out whenever she needed them. She just hoped the inky abyss the manuscript was now in didn't affect it or anyone inside.

She soon took notice of a small figure pushing themself off the cold, hard wooden floor. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

He was only about three feet tall. At least, that's what she guessed. She didn't have a tape measurer on her. What she could make out was that he wore a grey suit and matching pants, with a red collared bowtie and fake carnation. He even had a white, collared shirt underneath and dark brown dress shoes. He looked like quite a gentlemen, with a swoop of brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes that reminded her a lot of her the Goosebumps author. He may have passed for some small, fancily dressed kid if it wasn't for the fact he was made of wood, as revealed by how he had two chips in its 'skin'; one on his nose and the other on his chin.

She just watched with suspicion as what could be clearly identified as a ventriloquist dummy dusted itself off a bit. He seemed to shoot her a look for a quick second- as if he were actually upset she had pulled him out. Well, he was probably just mad that he got thrown into the bookshelf. After all, if he didn't want to be freed, then he didn't have to grab onto her at all.

She saw him glance over at Batim. She couldn't help but notice how his eyes slightly widened at the sight of her. It was more likely out of surprise than fear, though. Why would a living doll be scared of another supernatural entity?

He seemed to look back and forth at the two in confusion... like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It hadn't taken long for the eyebrows to lower though, giving him an expression of anger.

"Who the heck are you two?" he seemed to rasp, his jaw going up and down with each word he spoke. He almost behaved as if he wasn't expecting these two to have let him out. He even looked as if he was upset about that.

'Maybe he thought it was Stine reaching his hand in to pull him out?', she thought to herself.

"Well, you're welcome." Batim quickly retorted, her arms crossed in a bit of a huff. Abigail just reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, causing the ink woman to sigh in defeat and let her hands rest in her lap. That didn't mean she wasn't still glaring at him though.

"My name's Abigail, and this is Batim..." she then said, insinuating over to Batim when her name was spoken.

"What's yours?" she had found herself asking them, only to get one of the strangest responses in the history of plausible answers.

"Slappy." He'd spoken it with a bit of suspicion, likely because he didn't fully trust the duo yet.

That's when she recognized him. He was Slappy the dummy- the most well-known villain in the Goosebumps franchise. She felt herself flinch a bit at the name when she realized it. To think, it had been hours before her life was following its everyday course. Now she was having to deal with being the star of the strangest life anyone could ever have.

Of course, life had to be a jerk and throw another curveball her way. Because that's when she started hearing noises from downstairs.