317. Help Wanted
Amy decides to inquire about the job. She walks up to the front desk and rings the bell. The moment she does, a mighty wind blows around her, raising her arms in the air and pulling her dress off! Soon the dress is replaced with a new one, extremely conservative, with white lace in the front and at the sleeves. The one oddity is that the skirt length only barely covers her bottom, exposing black stockings held up by lace garters. A pair of half-glasses on a chain falls onto her nose, and her black opera gloves are replaced with a pair of small white gloves. Amy glances in a mirror and decides she looks like a Nineteenth Century schoolmarm, or...
“A stereotypical librarian,” she gulps. She then notes the cut of her skirt. “A stereotypical sexy librarian,” she corrects herself.
Suddenly Amy finds herself whisked behind the desk, her butt firmly attached to her seat. Her right index finger extends itself and attaches itself to her mouth; no matter how hard she tries, she is unable to move her hand from her lips.
“What the heck is goi-SHHHHHHH!” Amy says. She crosses her eyes to stare quizzically at her finger.
“SHHHHHHHH!” she says again. It quickly becomes apparent that she is now no longer capable of making any vocal noise except a shushing sound.
Amy soon adapts to her new job as a librarian. The talking thing is annoying, and she can't leave the library, but she finds joy in helping the mansion's residents find the information they seek. She never does see Shanon again, but she consoles herself that it's not guaranteed that she's dead. After all, Shannon had never been much of one for libraries.
Amy is in no condition to continue this adventure.