Is that snoring.

It sounds like it.

Is a cat sleeping behind a bookshelf? She didn't think Pancake snored. Better check to make sure the cat's okay...

Nope. No cat.

It sounds like it's coming from maybe the Weird Books bookshelf?

Why would the Weird Books bookshelf be snoring?

She must investigate, clearly.

Well, it's not snoring anymore. Noise's gone.

On the other hand, that is a very suspicious glowing book.

She doesn't have a stick to poke the book with it, but she does have a shoe. She takes hers off and prods the book with it.

It acts as any other book would, i.e. doesn't.

Ooooookay.

She reaches tentatively for the book.

It's quite the pretty book, with a winged tiger on the front cover and a pretty image on the back cover.

Also, when she takes it, it stops glowing.

Also also, it unlocks on its own.

She jumps a little, at the unlocking, then inspects the lock. Faulty, maybe? Some old locks can do that, she thinks. Probably. She's not an expert, or anything. But that and the glowing makes it very mysterious, and consequently very interesting. What were there, LEDs in this book for effect, some kind of fake magic book to impress people?

Clearly she must figure out how it works. Where are the lights on it?

Uh. Nowhere. Is. Is where the lights are. They're nowhere.

What? No, that's impossible, there has to be lights, maybe the lights are inside and cleverly redirected, somehow.

This seems flimsy to her, but so does the magic glowing book was snoring and then unlocked itself, so she opens the book to figure out where the lights are to wonder which flimsy explanation it's going to be.

No lights in there! Not proper pages, either. Or, well, there are pages, and a rectangle has been cut neatly off all of them, and a stack of cards is in it.

She takes a minute to be annoyed at the fate of the poor, pretty, probably excessively clever book for the sake of fulfilling a murder mystery trope. She's sorry, book. You deserved better. And then she's back to business.

Why aren't there any lights? It's not a glow in the dark book, the glow would still be present, it wouldn't disappear so quickly, nor shine so brightly. Some kind of convincing reflection? Of some kind? She closes the book and brings it to the window to see how it catches the light. Suitably close to glowing?

How does she replicate the weird shit she saw, weirdness doesn't just happen, things make sense if you study them enough...

No more weirdness. That gem on the cover of the book sure is refracting light prettily, but other than that, nope.

That is complete bullshit, and she refuses to be beaten by the pulped and bedazzled remains of a tree.

She opens the book again to begin gently removing the cards so she can investigate every inch of the inside of the book.

Removing the first card reveals that what she had seen was actually its back. The front of the card has a very prettily drawn lady and the words 'The Windy.'

... Headtilt?

"The Windy? What, not even something poetic, like 'The Tempest'?" she wonders, to no one in particular.

When she says that, the card in her hand glows, bright enough that it looks like it's made of light. A whirlwind envelops her, and the cards start flying away from the book, one by one in quick succession, flying off in random directions and going through the ceiling and walls like they weren't there.

She yelps, dropping the book. She stares in alarm and confusion at the cards flying free before her knowledge of fiction and the failures of its protagonists compels her to fling herself at the book to shut it right now.

She does! She does shut it right now.

The book feels pretty light, though, as the wind settles.

Yvette is not quite brave (or stupid) enough to attempt to open the book again immediately. She has no idea what her explanation for this is, there is no rational explanation, magic shit just started happening. She cannot explain this with LEDs and faulty craftsmanship. Maybe the magic cards were good, maybe they were bad, maybe she's the new Pandora and just screwed over the world, who even knows.

The book stays very firmly clamped shut, and she carries it in a vice to her brother's room to steal a belt and keep this fucker shut until she can figure out what to do about it.

Well, she might be able to ask the floating plush winged bear that's emerging from the book's cover, glowing slightly.

She bites her tongue to keep from yelping, again, and has a brief debate over the benefits and downsides of dropping the book and running for her life.

Whatever this is, whatever she just accidentally did, it's her responsibility. She'll be damned if she runs from that, fourteen or no. She keeps the book clamped shut, but holds it out from herself to let the - the - whatever that is emerge from the book. It's cute and fluffy, storytelling says that clearly it must be good because of that, right? Right. But it also might be Cthulhu, so, no pressure. Just if it looks evil, try to kill it very very sincerely.

She wishes very dearly for something sharp, but all of the knives are in the kitchen, and she's not close enough to retrieve one. Note to self: get a pocketknife.

"Helloooo!"