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indie-bard-maiden · 5 months ago

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~The Haunted Manor~

(the witches/ghost story, apart of my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye' also available to read on wattpad)

Three witches (two Vespers and a Depraysier) and a mortal unite over a Ouija board in the Vespers' haunted house and try to commune with the spirits of their brutally murdered and dearly departed family.

Genre: YA Fantasy

Word Count: (to be determined)

(Pt 6)

Wind is an omen in nearly every culture. Considering it's the windiest day of the year, I hope it's a good one. It's off to a bad start considering I was caught between being upset that Fives had invited a stranger to tag along on our Halloween plans—and being stupid quiet because she'd stripped into the costume she hadn't worn to school. They wouldn't allow her to wear it. Not without the tights or the jacket or the long-sleeved shirt under it.

My eyes were glued to her legs. They followed her as she paced around her bedroom.

"What if she canceled? What if she's too scared?" She turned to me abruptly, her almond eyes frantic.

And for a second, we stared at each other. Because my mouth wouldn't open. And if I could find my words, they would've been along the lines of, 'Why couldn't you see that I wanted to be alone with you? Was it you who couldn't take the hint or is it me?'

She sucked in a deep breath, blinking rapidly all the while as if I'd actually asked the stupid question. Her hands straightened the bottom of her skirt, pulling it down slightly.

"Sorry..." And then her eyes widened.

Mine would've too if I weren't used to her already. Sometimes I think she can read my mind--the way she just knows things sometimes--but I know this is all my fault. I have an expressive face, and right now it's saying, 'I can't stop looking at your legs, and I feel really guilty about it.'

"Look, maybe we should talk about last night?" She pulled the fabric down further, as if she's had just about enough of my gaze, as if she's seen my thoughts and is disgusted by them. And I knew exactly where this is going:

'Abbotticus, I love you too. As a friend. Can you like please stop staring at me now?'

I bolted to my feet and finally, my mouth worked and my eyes found hers, and whatever words my lips couldn't form before, I tried to send her telepathically. And she flinched... My heart pounded in my chest. I was ruining this. I couldn't believe I was ruining this.

"I'm sorry, Sadbh," I would sayand I wouldn't use her nickname, something I always do, because I would want her to know that I'm sorry and I'm serious, and ruining this is the last thing I wanted to do, "I can make these stupid feelings go away. I promise."

But instead, I said nothing.

Because a deep, hollow knock came from the front door. Someone was using the actual real knocker, the Pentagram that traps evil within the segments and vertices. I never used it. Nobody ever used it. This stranger was a fearless fool.

The echo rumbled through the entire house, shaking the walls, vibrating the floors, clattering the windows. Fives' eyes widened, full of glee and I froze. She looked genuinely happy for a second, like the girl she was before everything.

"She's here!" She clapped her hands together and sped through the door, "Come on, Abbott! The spirit board is down here!"

My heart thrilled in my chest. A spirit board? She wasn't seriously expecting me to exist in the same room with something like that? It wasn't even like I believed in it, but I didn't want to go out of my way to prove myself wrong. Not in this house--which even Fernezra has said was haunted--not on Halloween night either. If anything out of the ordinary happened, it would be because we were asking for it...

I followed her anyway.

She didn't even bother to check the peephole before she opened the door! She was even more fearless than the fool!

"You came!" She shrieked. I flinched at the high pitch as she pulled Malin inside. And it was the craziest thing--I flinched even harder at her appearance. Her bone-white skin, sunken cheeks, almost-luminescent gray eyes... Who the hell was this girl?

Her eyes found me and jolted a shock down my spine. She didn't smile--didn't react at all-- when she greeted me, "Abotticus Jinx."

She knew my name... My full name...

"May-lin." A smirk found my lips. I wasn't even the smirking type. It brought me great joy though, pretending to have power over her the way she did over me.

"It's Malin." Fives cut in. My eyes snapped to hers and she was frowning at me.

I wanted to ask why she was protecting her. This girl didn't need protecting, her appearance did that well enough for her. I wanted to ask why she'd invited someone she'd barely known a day into her house. Something held me back. Something was always holding me back in that house.

"The dining room is through there--" she pointed through the archway, "--now where is-- FERN!" Malin passed through the door just as Fernezra's laugh answered from the kitchen.

"Coming, coming, I have treats."

I was about to follow them inside, but Fives grabbed my wrist. An electric warmth cascaded in waves all the way down my arm, all over my body, and then I turned and met her eyes, and the waves turned to ice in my stomach.

"I know you're upset--" she murmured. It was like she was scared she'd break me.

"I'm not upset."

"You're hurt." My mouth snapped shut. "And I'm sorry. I promise there will be time for us tonight, but right now, this is important to me... I need you to give her a chance." Her voice cracked and she turned back toward the archway, wiping her eyes, "If that's not enough for you then you can leave."

She was cold and tense. The old vulnerable Fives left, and I wanted the right to miss her, but I understood too well why she had to go. I nodded even though she couldn't see me, and I tried to free the tension all over my body. It was no use.

My instincts were telling me there was something wrong here and they hadn't shut up about it since Malin arrived. Wouldn't that make her the problem? Isn't she who they're trying to warn me about?

I went against them and followed Fives. Malin had already made herself at home, sitting at the head of the table, picking up the ancient wooden planchet, and peeking through the glass hole. The corner of her mouth pulled up.

"You were right. There are many haunts here tonight." Her pupil dilated inside her magnified eye. It was such a metallic silver it was almost purple, and she smiled, "They seem to be intrigued with your mortal."

A cold chill slapped me hard on the neck and it didn't leave. Her smile widened, and I was sure it was the cause of the floor swaying beneath me. My brain was melting, just something else I was sure of. The floor groaned as their chairs slid against it. Fernezra's voice cut through the fog.

"Jinx, you look pale. Try some of these," Her footsteps rattled my melted brain, her sharp nails cut into my palm as she pressed something soggy into it.

"What—"

"It's a cupcake. Perfectly moist too."

It dripped through my fingers, splattering into a thousand puddles on the rotted floor. I slurped what was left off of my fingers, and the shaking in my thighs ceased. I stood tall and strong when I sat down at Malin's left, beside Fives.

Neither noticed me, both watched as she traced a finger along the vines carved along the edges of the board. Fernezra was the only other person not trapped within her spell.

"It's been in our family for generations." Fives explained nervously. Her green eyes watched Malin for a reaction.

She only nodded, and her fingers followed the vines down to the words 'Hello' and 'Farewell'. Then they stopped. Suddenly. Coldly. She was still as a corpse.

"Our grandmother used it every day. She said she needed to commune with her mother before she made any decision."

Fern but in with a, "Yes! I remember that. She used to ask her everything! 'Ma, what should I make for dinner? Ma, does this perfume make me smell like a harlot?'"

Fives nodded, her smile fell somberly, "I always thought she smelled nice. Like a nice old lady."

"Mhm," Malin spoke cooly like mist, "Agatha?" Fern and Fives stared at her. Malin stared back. Then she blinked and her eyes focused on something behind Fern.

"Oh. My apologies." She blinked again and her eyes immediately found Fives. "She says you knew her as meemaw." Fern and I gasped, but Fives just clapped her hands in excitement. "She says the perfume did make her smell like a harlot and you'd do well to dispose of yours too."

Fives gasped and I rolled my eyes, "She does NOT smell like a harlot."

The second her eyes found me, I froze.

"Your family has their concerns about continuing this conversation in front of a mortal. They've asked me to inquire if Salem 1692 means anything to you?"

Fives grasped my arm, and it was like the spell broke. My lungs were working again. Those silver eyes had no effect on me. I was free! Her murder attempt failed! She must've been devastated.

"Abbott Jinx isn't like those mortals. He's my bodyguard. He protects us from any harm this way comes."

Malin raised an eyebrow at me. I smiled back. "This boy is your familiar?"

We turned to each other. It took all of two seconds for us to start howling with laughter. It couldn't be real. This girl couldn't be serious. Only the heat of the flickering candles and the smell of the raw pumpkin spice cupcakes reminded me this was reality.

"You laugh in the face of your responsibilities, Mortal? You think protecting the life of a witch is an easy task? Especially the lives of witches that have been cursed and doomed for ages?"

We stopped laughing.

Her eyes were unforgiving, "If this is all a joke to you, perhaps my agreeing to help was a mistake."

Fives jumped up from her seat, knocking it backward. "NO! No, please! This means the entire world to me, please. We're sorry, very very incredibly sorry." I almost thought she was going to fall to her knees and beg for this stranger's forgiveness.

Malin stared her down.

Fives stared back, unwavering.

"Please."

There was a pause. A lull. That is until the sound of Fern slurping her cupcakes shattered the silence. She was barely paying us any mind. Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her fingers dripping batter.

Malin cleared her throat, "It would help if you'd tell me a little bit more about how they died, and when."

"Really?" Fern snorted, "You can't find that out by asking them with your little ghost board?"

Fives ignored her, "It was last winter... They were driving home after a Yule Ritual in the wildwood. Cops said they must've been drunk when they hit a patch of black ice, lost control, wrecked, and animals pulled them from the wreckage and attempted to hide their bodies."

"Animals?"

Fives nodded sarcastically, annoyed at the entire idea, at the incompetency of the force on her parents' case, "Animals."

Fern was more serious when she spoke now, "Okay, look, I get it doesn't sound that plausible when you say it out loud. But this is even more crazy, Sadbh. You're trying to find the person who allegedly murdered your parents through a goddamn spirit board. That sounds less crazy than, I don't know, a bear killing your parents when they wrecked their car in a literal forest?"

Fives waved her off, "Just admit you've never heard of hibernation, Fern. NO BEARS were out at that time."

Fern rolled her eyes, "Okay how about you admit you've never heard of global warming? Bears ARE out at that time nowadays because of overfishing and they haven't enough food TO hibernate, not to mention it doesn't get cold enough. They probably don't even realize it's WINTER anymore."

I regretted being stuck in the middle of this. I was glad when Fives' hand went back to my arm though. Her hands tightened around me. Almost cutting into my skin.

"If you don't want to be here, you can leave. Go gawk over Quinby Digby at the library before it closes or something." She growled.

Malin went to say something, but Fern snapped, "First of all, I gawk over Zaskia, NOT Quinby. Second of all, I'm staying, so when she pulls some rubbish out of her ass, I can say 'See this why we don't listen to scam artists who believe they can communicate with corpses through a plank of wood.'"

I tried to jump in, to maybe bring some peace to the mix, but they cut me off as soon as I got my mouth to work. Malin and I met each other's eyes and it seemed like we were sharing the same thought: This is going to be a long night.

Sadbh crossed her arms sarcastically, "How nice, well I want you to stay so you can find out who killed YOUR family too."

"Sadbh, come on. This is so obviously not real. Right, Abbott? You agree with me?" She looked between her cousin and me. Fives look at me too. And then Malin. Three pairs of eyes were on me and they were all hungry.

I'm no fearless fool, so I hesitated..., "Look, I don't claim to know how your parents died, and I'll admit it does sound suspicious. Maybe if the police did their jobs we'd have more answers..." I licked my lips; none of them looked satisfied, "But using a spirit board? I mean, they're bad luck. And they hold evil or something? And I understand you want to know what happened so you can get some kind of closure... And we will get that for you! Whether it was a bear or a murderer or whatever, we'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

I was rambling and it was obvious. What could I have said that would've made it matter for anyone? Malin rescued me with answers, "Actually..." her eyes focused, as if she were coming out of a foggy haze, "Have you ever heard of divine retribution?"

"No?" Fives and I echoed together, and her hand squeezed me tighter.

Fern groaned, "Please don't tell me you're saying my Aunt and Uncle were killed because God had a bone to pick with them."

"No. Of course not. Your Aunt and Uncle were killed because A god had a bone to pick with your original ancestor and cursed his entire bloodline hundreds of years ago."

I laughed, "You're joking..."

Malin sighed, "I'm afraid not. Gods can hold quite the grudge."

"So, you're saying A GOD killed my parents." Fives' hesitated.

Malin was getting tired of the questions, tired of us not understanding, tired of us not taking witchy voodoo seriously, "No, I'm saying A GOD is why your parents met their untimely end, just like your aunt, and your family before them and you two will after them. It'll go on and on and on."

Fern threw her cupcake paper at the spirit board, "SEE! It's bullshit, Sadbh! She's just taking advantage of the knowledge that our family has all died young to come to some bullshit conclusion. Cursed by the gods, are you genuinely serious? Which god then, huh?"

I cleared my throat, "And which ancestor? Can't you talk to him? Ask him what he did? Maybe we can fix it? Reverse his mistake or something?" My heart was pounding in my chest. They couldn't all die young. Not because of one guy nobody remembered. Not when it's been so long.

Sadbh growled, her fingers cutting into me, "None of that matters! I still don't know who or what killed my parents! That's why we're here right now!"

I had to yank myself free. I couldn't bear her knife-like claws anymore, "No offense, Fives, I think preserving your life and getting rid of a curse that could kill you matters at least a little."

"Malin. Please. I need to know. I can't move on if I don't know."

Malin cleared her throat, "You ever notice how things change with the breeze? How new paths form, how you make choices you wouldn't have made otherwise, how a new you is born and the old you is remade?"

The omen. My eyes flash. I don't even realize I'm speaking, "What the fu--"

Fives interrupts, "What does this have to do with anything?"

Fern rolled her eyes, "Yeah, and why do you have to say it so pretentiously? You're literally talking about the wind."

It was all becoming less real by the second. Even the cold slap on my neck had disappeared. Malin's effect on me was nothing more than annoyance.

And it was almost like she'd felt my shock. Her eyes locked with mine, and they held an air of righteousness, "The Goddess of Destiny has everything to do with everything, and I wouldn't disregard the wind so easily. How do you think Mistraldaire was cursed in the first place? Arrogance and hubris--thinking you're better than the gods."

Fern cackled, "Mistraldaire? MISTRALDAIRE? That's not even a real name."

"Your name is literally Fernezra," I whispered.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. Whose side are you even on?"

"Well--"

"But thinking the decision to curse an entire bloodline is a little dramatic means we're disrespecting the gods?" Fives murmured, "My parents are dead because this Goddess of Destiny was offended by something a man who lived hundreds of years ago said. Maybe I don't want to respect a goddess who thinks murder is a fair punishment for an entire family."

Malin nodded, "Fair enough, but murder wasn't the punishment."

Fives shook her head, "I don't understand. If it wasn't, then why do we keep dying?"

"It's not so much death so much as the way it's orchestrated. And the first curse wasn't death, it was BECAUSE of death."

"Can you stop speaking in riddles for five seconds and just answer her questions?" Fern groaned.

Malin spoke reminiscently, "I recognize the name. Mistraldaire... A Veteran of the War of the Schools."

"Schools... Like a high school...?" I raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head as if it were obvious, "The Schools of Witchcraft. Every clan belongs to one of the three: Mind, Body, or Soul. Mistraldaire's were masters of the body."

"How do you even know this?"

Fives shushed her cousin, and Malin continued, "He's all over our history books of that period. He wasn't so much a veteran as much as he was a disgrace in the eyes of witches and gods everywhere."

Sadbh gasped, "Why? What did he do?"

Fern shushed her back.

Malin looked between them both and waited for silence. Once they gave in, she cleared her throat, "It's a long story but to summarize, in the early days of the war, thousands were lost every day. Undertakers couldn't keep up with the bodies, the land couldn't keep up with the graves, and ghosts from the dead buried carelessly would return and haunt both sides. Then the School of the Body joined and healers from all over Iyael were summoned to await their divine duty--to help the wounded and the fallen warriors."

Her silver eyes began to glow violet as she spoke passionately, "Mistraldaire was one of those called upon. He was one of the best healers. He could heal those on the brink of death, could bring back those just barely over the cusp. When other healers would attempt it, those brought back were different. They weren't the same that were lost. But Mistraldaire was skilled at his craft, a master. He could bring back the soul as well as the body."

"That's good then, right? So why was he punished? He was a hero." I wondered aloud.

Her eyes met mine again, but their power was no more over me, "It wasn't enough for him to be praised, to see the product of his divinity. He wanted to prove his valor. He wanted to show the schools he wasn't just the most powerful healer, he could be a warrior too. He could take life just as he could give it back. So one day, he decided to do just that. He abandoned his post. Took the sword of a warrior he didn't heal and joined the other warriors on the battleground..."

Fern leaned forward on her elbows and blushed, "Okay... Not that I believe any of this... But... What happened then...?"

Malin leaned back, "It was the bloodiest day the war had seen. More died not by the stolen sword but by the rejection of his duty. By taking his fate into his own hands, by deciding he knew his destiny best, by rejecting the blessing and the glory the goddess had given him, the witches that died on the battlefield weren't healed. Those that were killed weren't brought back. More ghosts haunted than warriors fought. He'd decided death was more important than life. For this decision, he was exiled by his fellow witch, and cursed by the gods who'd blessed him."

"So why not just punish him," Fives yelled exasperated, "Why punish us too? We had nothing to do with that!"

Malin looked as though she couldn't understand the question, "Thousands were lost because of him. Mothers lost sons, sons lost fathers, entire clans gone forever. Maybe they didn't think one man's blood would suffice. Maybe they wanted the entire Vespers' bloodline to fall."

Fern narrowed her eyes, "So you can ask the ghosts what our original ancestor was named, but you can't ask them why they deemed all this necessary."

Malin sighed, "Only your family is here at the moment. I can't ask them what every clan from every school thought when they cursed yours."

"I just think it's fuc--

Sadbh jumped, "Did you just say our family is here?"

Malin nodded.

"My parents???" Her voice reached that high pitch again, but I didn't flinch. I understood her need, her desperation.

Malin tilted her head, "Your father."

Fives' eyes were frantic, her hand reaching for mine again. I interlocked our fingers, though it didn't help much. "My dad is here right now? Can he hear me? Where's my mom? Why aren't they together?"

"He can hear you. and he says your mother was mortal. She wasn't cursed the way he was. She doesn't suffer the same fate as he." She spoke softly as if she was trying to soothe her.

Sadbh shook her head, "Suffer? He's suffering? Where is he? What happened? Why can't I hear him? Tell him I want to speak to him!"

I squeezed her hand gently, "Hey, hey, relax. Take a deep breath."

Malin spoke cooly, "I've already told you. Your clan are masters of the body. Your powers stem from there. Us Depraysiers are masters of the soul, and so I can commune with the dead."

Fives' voice was cracking. She was gone. I was losing her all over again. Just like last year. Just like when this was still new. She was beside herself with pain and sorrow and yearning for answers, "Then I should be able to feel him. He knows I can feel. I can feel things, emotions from other people. Why can't I feel his?"

I froze. She didn't notice. I didn't expect her to.

Malin sighed, "Because he isn't a body. He is a soul, an essence trapped here."

"Hey, can you shut the hell up for a second?" For a second, I thought Fern was talking to me. Me and my racing thoughts and my racing heart, but she was scowling Malin down, "Can't you see she's having a panic attack? You're not helping."

"And what do you mean you can feel people's emotions?" I muttered.

Fern eyed me then, "You too. Just shut up. Sadbh, relax, okay? Get your feelings under control and she'll answer more questions, okay? You're going to make yourself sick."

Five's voice was small, barely above a whisper, her eyes distant, "She said he's suffering, Nez. He's suffering and my mom isn't there with him. He's all alone."

Malin shook her head. She clasped her fingers together with a hum, "He isn't alone. Iris is there. He says she's been helping him since he arrived. She's been trying to help him contact Yuna... Yuna is your mother, yes?"

"Is he in pain? Just tell me that." Her voice cracked.

Malin cleared her throat, as if she was attempting to clear Fives' as well, "He says he's alright. He feels no pain. He suffers only because of his punishment."

Her voice only shook more. "Punishment? What punishment."

Malin goes quiet and pale. It's the first time she's looked remorseful. Probably the first time in her entire life. "He doesn't wish for me to say."

Sadbh shakes from beside me. She's restless now. I grab her hand, trying to still her and her racing heart. She doesn't notice any of us are there. She barely notices Malin anymore. Her eyes dance around the room, searching for her father's spirit. "Tell me! Please. Please I need to know."

Malin shakes her head, "He says it'll bring you no comfort."

She launches to her feet, nearly knocking over her chair if I hadn't grabbed it with my knight-like reflexes, "Well then remind him that he's dead. That my mom is dead. Remind him that I feel no comfort anyway because they were both taken from me and nobody will tell me the truth about what really happened."

Fern begs on her behalf, "Uncle Dillon... She's right. If you're really there and this isn't just some scam. I've seen it. I've seen her suffering. Answers could only help. There's no way she could be more lost than she already is."

I narrowed my eyes at her. Not because it wasn't true. Of course it was true. Sadbh wasn't the same and she would never be. How do you go back to the way you used to be before something like this happened? You couldn't; she couldn't. There was an innocence lost, a naivety, an ignorant bliss. No, I wasn't staring angrily at Fern because she was wrong. I was staring at her with an edge because she was right.

Malin pauses. Hesitates. "He hears her screams the night she died. Over and over again. Screaming for him to help, begging for the pain to leave. He tries to run to her, to reach her, and to help her, but she's too far away. As soon as he reaches the Maple Tree in your backyard, she goes quiet. He falls to his knees because he knows it's not because the pain is gone but because she is. He knows Yuna was killed because of him, because of HIS curse."

Sadbh falls back down in her chair, "Oh..."

Fern sighs theatrically, "So I was wrong, then... Maybe you didn't need to know that. Nice going, Uncle Dillon. You should've said your punishment was that morbid."

Malin picks at her fingernails, somehow uninterested, somehow uncaring, "He didn't say it. Mistraldaire did. He says your parents died a death of valor."

I try to bite my tongue, but I can't anymore. I just can't. "Like he'd know anything about valor, he sounds like a coward."

The walls rattle and collectible dishes fly off shelves. The planchette zooms from one side of the board to the other, and Malin just smiles at it.

"You can throw dishes at me all you want, it's true! You're the reason they died ~a death of valor~ in the first place. You're the reason her father is being punished like that. You're the reason her mother was in pain when she died. You're the reason the gods hate the Vespers." My voice doesn't crack, nor waver.

Fives grabs my arm, but I shake her off, "Abbotticus--"

I frown down at her, "No, it's true! If you die tomorrow or next month, when you DIE, it'll be all because of him. Because he couldn't handle healing people even though that was his entire power. he wanted to kill people instead. The gods were right to punish him, but to punish you? To punish your parents? To let your father suffer in death like that and your mother who had nothing to do with it? That's fucked up, and more than that, it's not fair. Because he went against the Goddess of Destiny now it's your destiny to pay for a crime you didn't commit?"

Malin smirks scoldingly, I didn't even know that was possible, "Easy, mortal. Don't tempt her. On Halloween of all nights."

"He has a point. but the fact is... None of this is real... It can't be... And even if it is, we're getting out of here. You and me... we won't have their fate, I promise..."

Fern doesn't even sound sure, doesn't even sound like she believes herself or her words. Maybe because she's said it so many times before. Maybe it was a lie she was trying to convince herself was true, only it's not working anymore, maybe it never worked.

"Malin, please. Ask them what happened that night. Ask them who did it. I don't care if I die, if the curse reaches me too. I need to get justice for them, I need to know what happened."

Fern reaches for her across the table but they're too far, "Are you sure?"

I grab her hand for her, "Yeah, Fives. This doesn't seem like it's helping."

Sadbh nods, resolutely. It's what she invited Malin here for after all. "I need to know. It won't help but nothing will. I won't rest until I know."

Malin clears her throat, stares off into the distance, and communicates with those lost, "Well..... He says........ There was a woman... A woman in the road and your mother didn't see her through all the snow..."

A cold wintry air overcomes the room. Frost blossoms on the dishware, snowflakes dance slowly from the ceiling, the walls blur around us, the lights dim until there's only a glow resembling a pale moonlight. My lungs burn at having to adjust to the dramatic dip in temperature. Just as my fingers start trembling with frostbite, Sadbh grabs my fingers and interlocks them. If I wasn't so sure this was all a dream that surely couldn't be real, I would've realized that she must've felt my chill. That's why she wrapped my fingers in her warmth. It had to be.

I'm too busy staring in awe at the shifting reality to notice Malin's mouth falling open, slowly, slowly. Fern screams. I flinch and look at her, only to see her horrified at something happening beside me. That's when I see it; her. Malin frozen in pain, mouth wide open stretching wider and wider, jaw creaking and cracking, eyes bulging. A squeak of pain exits her throat, but she struggles to let it out. Like there's a pressure on her lungs we can't see.

And then, all at once, in the time it takes me to blink, there is no more Malin. Not the Malin as I'd come to know her. '

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indie-bard-maiden · 4 months ago

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Black Crescent Bay

(my NOVEL on wattpad, not to be confused with the short story in my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye'! This is just another siren story that also takes place in my fictional town of Hollowfaye. Different characters but same setting.)

Esmarie Kestrel is a human girl. A normal human girl. She's 21, attends Hollowfaye Community College, and JUST wants to make it to the fashion show at the end of her senior year. She's a seamstress, a designer for her school's Theater, and that's ALL she cares about. Who needs math? But also who needs sleep? ESMARIE DOES! So she'd appreciate it if this siren fishboy who calls himself her mate would stop haunting her dreams and giving her DREADFULLY awful romantic visions of their lives together! And while he's at it, he could TAKE her stupid mermaid tail back because EW!

(2)

a party

My best friend is an old lady named Waverly Adler, and her best friend is a middle-aged man named Heath Merrick. Waverly's been divorced twice and made it out, luckily, without any children to waste her life raising. Her second husband did have three children of his own, and she was happy to never see any of them ever again. She moved to Hollowfaye when she was 68, ready to start her life over and go to college, determined to make something of herself.

Heath was an ex-con, ex-drug dealer who'd lost everything including his husband and their five adopted children when they moved to a place only reachable by goblin tolls and portal-circles made of mushrooms and flora.

I figured he was still micro-dosing whatever drugs he used to do when he explained his sad life story. It wasn't far off. Plenty of people in Hollowfaye had issues dealing with reality.

On the third day that I was too exhausted and anxiety-ridden to endure any of our lectures, Waverly stopped by my apartment with a carton of cigarettes and a bottle of rum.

"Get dressed," she demanded, and gasped when she saw the ghastly circles under my eyes, "And clean your face up, girl. You're gonna scare everyone away." She pushed past me and inspected my disatrous humble abode with a scoff. "Goodness me, what have you been doing in here?"

I tried to shut the door, but Heath stopped it with his beer belly. He shoved his way through with a smile which quickly fell when he saw me and my surroundings.

"What happened here?"

"Homework," I muttered, and moved stray fabrics from one side of the floor to the other side with the tip of my toe.

They both tsk'ed me. "Well... We're going to a party." Heath looked at Waverly, "You did tell her that we're going to a party, right?"

Waverly gestured at me before sitting down on the velvet sea-blue sofabed. She set the rum in the cup holder and pulled out a cigarette and placed it saltily between her lips.

"I did, but she won't listen to me."

It was only then that I registered their outfits. Heath was in a powder blue tux from the seventies with a ruffled black button-up and a fuschia bow tie, Waverly was in a neon chartreuse-sequin formal gown that looked like it belonged in 'Gentlemen Prefer Blondes' or 'The Divorcee'. I couldn't even form a comment before Heath was ushering me into the bathroom. He sat me down on the toilet and got to work beating color into my face and beating the color out of my bags.

He didn't touch my hair. Well, he did. Just curled some of the tresses around his fingers with a smile before he said, "We'll leave this be. It really frames your face."

"Thanks... But I cannot go to a party tonight. I'm distressed. And overwhelmed. And I'll just ruin the night for both of you."

He scoffed, "Please," he lined my lips with a jewel-tone plum liner, "you don't possess the skills to ruin my night." As he was glossing on a blood-red lipstick over the plum color, he shouted to Waverly, "Doll, find her an outfit and some shoes!"

There was rustling in my bedroom and then the sound of shoes being thrown across the floor and drawers being pulled open and slammed shut. I was scared of what I'd find when the door opened. But then there was Waverly with a wide smile and the chiffon sage green and slate gray dress I only just finished the night before.

"This is just gorgeous. You have to wear it tonight."

I blushed, "Thanks. You should've seen how long I struggled with the boning of the corset."

She looked down at it and held it up to her chest, staring at herself in the mirror and adjusting the red in her otherwise white hair. "This will just work wonders on your bust, won't it?"

I blushed harder. This time out of embarrassment. I hadn't done that intentionally in the design, but the corset did create a look that was nothing short of a miracle on my flat chest. It gave the illusion that there was something there worth grabbing. The asymmetrical waterfall skirt, however, was intentional, and it made my buns look like the finest in the bakery.

It wasn't my proudest creation, but it was up there.

I was almost excited to wear it, and then Waverly pulled out the vibrant red thong she'd paired it with. My smile fell at once.

"What? Just in case,"

I shook my head, but Heath held me still as he finished sculpting my eyebrows, "I never wear that."

"Never say never. Besides you might find yourself a handsome beau tonight, and you'll be quite disappointed in yourself if you decide to wear your granny-panties instead."

"Listen to that one, Sweetheart," he gestured at her with the tip of the makeup brush, "she knows allllll about granny-panties, don't you, hun?"

Waverly let out a hmph and dropped the red-violet wrap-up chunky heels on the ground, "A lady never reveals her age."

She had. Literally the first day we met. She was 69 next spring.

It took only a few more minutes for Heath to add the finishing touches to my face. A touch of highlight on the tip of my nose, some sparkly setting spray, and a spritz of Chanel No. 5 on either side of my neck and behind my ears.

"Gorgeous! Now let's get you dressed."

I stopped them as they both reached for me, "I'm quite capable of doing it myself, thanks." I put it all on in a flash, forboding the thong, and opting to just let my cheeks hang free. It would at least rid me of a burdensome panty-line around my hips.

"Where is this party anyway?" I asked as we were leaving.

Heath explained it was some celebratory thing to cheer on the one of our sports teams. He forgot which one, and we all figured it was unimportant anyway. We all thought sports were for people who WEREN'T us. Waverly grabbed the rum and the cigarettes on her way out, and we pre-gamed on our way to the New England, eggshell yellow colonial-house where there was nowhere to park and barely anywhere to stand.

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