The King and I

I was standing at a bookstore in Castle Rock, which is somewhere in Maine, about 37 miles south of Portland. I really loved the atmosphere, as it was a cold winter's day, dreary and wet.These sort of environment always made me feel alive and invigorated.
The few people in that bookstore were browsing through rows of books on horror fiction and I wondered why. Suddenly there was a silence and everybody looked towards the door. I did too and saw a tall thin man walked in, aided by a cane.
For the first time in my life, I was rooted to the ground as I watched the renown author Stephen King walked in. I mean, I read this man's work since his first book Carrie. I watched the movie too and swooned over John Travolta...not that he would have been interested in a pre-teener. I read Christine, and almost smelled the awful car, I read The Shining...what else have I not read of this man. Misery, The Dark Half, Needful Things...I could have read his shopping list on a toilet paper.
The few people in the shop approached him tentatively as did I. He was quite aloof, but deigned to smile at us. His smile did not reach his eyes, but his pen scrawled his signature on an assortment of items, notebooks, his books, papers...was one a paper plate, I saw?
When my turn came to meet him, I looked into his eyes. It was silvery grey and had this unsettling way of looking deep. He then said softly, his voice deep "I know You."
I backed away, and he moved towards me..."You are back aren't you. They always come back! You are the portal. Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”  
"Huh? I just want...your autograph..." I stammered.
“The trust of the innocent is the liar's most useful tool.”
"Eh...? Wha...?"
He snatched a book from the shelf and thrust it into my hands. I grabbed at it, gaping at him.
"The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there...and still on your feet.”
He then turned and walked away,  still using his cane, but no longer limping. I saw a black rolls Royce drive in up front and he entered, slammed the door and the car moved away almost silently. A lone bat hovered above and disappeared into the grey wintry sky.
I looked at the book on my hand it was called Dark Magic and within was a very beautiful script that stated “Perfect paranoia is perfect awareness.” ― Stephen King
To this day, I still could not fathom what that meant. What was the book all about...I never read it all really. Ancient languages was never my forte.

*Quotes by Stephen King*