The Pagemaster Richard Tyler Novels & Stories

His paddle still sat untouched on the table. “You’re not going to bid?” I whispered. Tyler looked at me. “No. I’m not interested. I’ve gotten so many art collections, I can’t even count. This one isn’t for me.” “Oh…” Was all I managed to say. What else could I say? The bidding just went on and on. My heart was racing, trying to follow it all. Then the next thing I heard was… "$40,000!" It came from Mr. Richard, the same man Tyler had introduced me to earlier when we just arrived.

His presence smothered what little air remained. “Well,” he drawled, pacing slowly before them like a king admiring his trophies. “Look at the mighty protectors. Shackled like dogs, caged like beasts.” His smile was sharp, venomous. “I should thank you. Your suffering is the sweetest weapon I’ve ever wielded.” Tyler bared his teeth. “Go to hell.” The Master of Evil’s smile widened. “Oh, but I’ve already dragged hell here.” He flicked a hand, and the shadows surged, curling around Tyler’s neck for a heartbeat before slithering back to the walls. Tyler gagged but didn’t break eye contact.