Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  ‘Hey.’ His voice rolls like silk from his lips; maybe it’s the gin and the atmospheric pulse, but I feel his eyes undressing me, I feel his hand resting just above my waist, a little too close for comfort. I scrape my chair back and get up, once off the stool my legs have lost the will to move and I find myself wobbling, teetering on the kitten heels that should have been so simple to navigate in. The floor, all granite rip-off and marked with shoeprints and spilt drinks, is coming closer and closer, I feel myself falling but find a secure holding last minute and use it to rock myself back onto my heels.

  ‘Looks like you’ve got the girls falling at your feet.’

  A voice cuts through the haze of my mind and I am pulled back into a very vivid present. I push myself with my hands, from the square chest of the guy, but I find his hands, feverishly warm, pushing them off him before I had a chance. I stare up at him, his blue eyes engulfing me with the strongest and the longest of stares. If I had thought the guy before was undressing me with his eyes, this guy was delving deep into my soul and finding treasure.

  ‘Er, I’m sorry.’ I stammer, finding my feet and my voice I reel backwards, only getting a sly glance from the two guys he was with; the brown-haired guy, with eyes as dark as night, he stares with a slight risen brow but it was the silver eyed, pale haired monster of a man that spoke just a moment ago.

  The blue-eyed guy, his hair as dark as coal, he says nothing, just the simplest of gestures with his mouth, a cockeyed smirk. I close my eyes, stopping myself from swooning, instead I turn upon my heel and steadily walk back to the table where my friends are. Somehow, even though they are leaving, I feel he is still staring, I feel his eyes burning, more ice than fire, into me. I hold my arms, suppressing a shiver as I seat myself back. It seems the three guys have disappeared. Jade and Liv turn to meet me with gaping jaws and lively eyes.

  ‘Did you plan that?’ Olivia asks, her finger tracing the edge of a new drink (where are all these drinks coming from?)

  ‘Plan... What?’

  ‘Falling literally head over heels for that guy.’

  ‘Mr blue-eyes-I-have-enough-women-to-start-a-fan-club guy? I don’t think so Liv.’ I wipe my brow with the back of my hand, feeling rosy with the effects of the gin, the poison of alcohol starting to pulse through me. My fingers feel electric, my wrists still burning where he had gripped them.

  ‘Well, it worked for getting the creepers away. I’m sorry I brought them over, I thought they would be cool, but they were just after what’s in our pants.’ Liv places both hands over her eyes. I think that the alcohol seeping in our veins, pumping through our hearts, has been enough for one night.

  ‘Did he say anything, Elli? He sure stared at you for ages. Like... I will eat your face kind of staring.’

  ‘Like he was chewing on those girls earlier? Damn. It was kinda hot to watch.’

  ‘Hot? Liv. Bloody hell that was like an orgy. How the hell could they let that happen in public?’

  ‘Maybe they’re like rich kids or something.’

  ‘Or something.’ I murmur. Losing myself in the chatter of drunkenness and rambles of exhaustion, my eyes trailing after the three mysterious guys. I am surprised that no girls left with them. I guess they were so well-spent, teetering and wobbling as though they had sucked out every bit of life from them. No wonder they left alone, all three of them. I see his black hair, like inky quills in a quiff and a stylish mound of what looks like black feathers. I place my cheek in the cusp of my palm, continuing to watch as they exit the doors, feeling the crimson grace my cheeks once more when he dawdles by the entrance, over the top of writhing bodies, I see him glance back, the slightest, quickest of glances but I feel it, I feel my heartbeats thunder against my chest, uncontrollable and mismatched.

  There is something strange about that guy, something enthralling.

  I will be glad to not see him again.

  Evander –

  Avalon has left a bittersweet taste in my mouth; a mixture of sweet blood and bitter alcohol. The haze of the girls’ soul sits within my chest all the way back to Hell, where once inside the castle I breathe them out into vials and then leave them on the side of my cabinet, for later.

  I throw on a black hooded sweater; one of the human style garments I’ve come to acquire. I stare momentarily at my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror, my pale body, every muscle rigid like stone, I stretch out my arms, pulling the sweater close to my body, just glimpsing the blackness of my tattoos; my father’s crest of medusa and the summoning sign of destruction and death. A circle of stars in between an inverted cross and three wavering lines. It has detailing, quite like Kaiser’s, but mine promises far more than being just an artistic piece on an arm. The curves of my tattoo have been penned with magic, black sorcery of Hecate herself. The darkness inside of me, it is my true calling. Becoming a Great King, becoming more. I zip up the hoodie and slip out of my room. Leaving the flicker of my image in the mirror frame.

  When we returned from Avalon, I had thrown away the jeans and the shirt, they stunk of human sweat and desire, of lust and sin. Not that I am deterred by sin, but those girls, all six of them, they were not worthy. They aren’t worthy of me, of my eyes, let alone my hands, my touch. There are very few I have lain with that has given me what I wanted, the desire, the lust, it means nothing, but I do long for that connection. Strange indeed, a Demon wanting to feel something, but it sits in my mind, at the back. I want to feel something with someone, I want to feel the quake within me, if only for a moment. Maybe that is what the witch meant…

  Ridding myself from ludicrous thoughts and even more ridiculous notions, I sit myself in the plush of the chaise lounge. One arm lazily hanging over the headrest, the other sprawling behind, my fingers are loose and lax. The living room is proving more of a meeting ground for the three of us, myself on the chaise, Alphie on the stool and Kaiser looming in the corners, flitting to and fro, leaning on the cabinets, the tables or just stretching out completely flat on the floor and gazing up, at the candlelit chandelier, like he’s doing now; the crystal and diamonds glinting with the flicker of flame catching his eye, making him look like he is enraptured by it, but then I notice him sigh, rolling over and facing me, propping his head on a bent arm.

  ‘You know, they’re going to notice your lack of pendant soon.’

  ‘I know.’ I answer, mildly amused by his risen eyebrow and his drawling words.

  ‘Especially with Merihim’s coronation. The handover of the pendant to him will very much draw attention to your lack of.’ He stretches his arms out in front of him, staring at his fingers, then his forearm, noting every line of his tattoo with scrutiny – you are marked with the tattoos of your father upon coronation of Princedom as well as being gifted the pendant. The necklace is a rite almost, to be part of the noble circle of Hell. Sitting up within the luxe of the thrones of royalty. Without my pendant, I look normal, lowly almost. I thumb my bare chest, feeling the lack of heat from the firestone of my necklace. I am bare, naked without it.

  ‘I’ll get it back soon enough.’

  ‘Any plans for that, by the way?’ Alphie urges, his nose still hidden behind the velvet covered tome he keeps up by his face, totally engrossed in the parchment, so much so that he still manages to eavesdrop on our conversation.

  ‘I’ll get it back, don’t you worry.’

  ‘With a heart attached?’ Kai teases, a glimmer of mischief in his grey eyes as he rolls back onto his back, laying his hands beside, palms up, as if dead and corpse like.

  ‘Wasn’t that what the witch said, Evan?’ Alphie, intrigued now by our conversation more so than his book, drops it into his lap and stares my way, studying, after information, gossip. There are few things for Princes to do, one of which passes the time is gossip. These walls and halls are filled with whispers, most of them are started by royalty. Presumably bored Great Princes.

  ‘Well she doesn’t know you very well, does she, Evan? Because you’re always breaking girls’ hearts.
’ Kaiser chuckles, silver strands of hair falling over his cheek as he does so, the sound of laughter breaks the sudden thick and tense atmosphere.

  ‘So, what is your plan for her, anyway? You said she was your boredom breaker, how so?’ Alphie, now fully indulging in our conversation turns the stool more toward us, he pulls it, scraping it along the floor, muffling the wood on wood scrape as he moves it onto the tapestry carpet that the fates had made. One of the future, the past and the present. The future’s tapestry is strewn within Satan’s room, no one sees that except him, so no one knows what will occur in the future. Not even that ridiculous skeletal witch...

  The present is in the throne room, where the meetings are held and the coronations take place; it is there we will be going come Merihim’s Princedom, and then off to the human Mall for a party off grounds. A suit and tie affair, one of great times, both scandalous and yet rather dull in my eyes.

  ‘She’ll know soon enough.’ I muse, staring at the embroidered patterns of the past monarchs. The older Kings and Dukes. The Earls sitting around the lesser table, but still one thing remains prominent. Satan, sat upon his golden throne, a permanent look of disdain and boredom on his face. The fates had captured it so well.

  ‘But you keep us in suspense?’ Kaiser moans, propping himself back on his elbow and looking back at me with eyes full of intrigue. They are twinkling, like silver moons upon a pale grey night.

  ‘Her heart, her soul and her mind—‘

  ‘What about her body, she had some awesome looking curves, dude.’ Kaiser interrupts with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows, but I roll my eyes and continue,

  ‘I will have her all. Every inch of her. And when I’m through, she will be nothing, not a trace of what she once was.’

  ‘That all sounds very interesting and all, but what if she doesn’t want you?’

  ‘Are you serious, Alpheus?’ I turn my head fully to face him, propping a hand under my chin, staring fully at him with piercing eyes, tearing through him. He doubts me. He doubts my abilities. Like all the rest. But I’ll show him, I’ll show them all just how powerful I can be.

  ‘I’ll give her what she wants, just like all the rest. But her contract will be far more expensive than normal.’

  ‘So why is it her, why are you so fascinated with her, Evan?’ Alphie muses, staring back at me with an intensity that makes his black eyes look like oblivion.

  ‘Because she is the one I was meant to take.’ I speak through tense lips, my teeth biting into the sides of my mouth. I know this now. It had taken me all the time travelling back from Avalon to Hell, all the time sitting and watching her from afar, to realise just why she was so familiar.

  ‘She’s the Twin?’ Kaiser gets up, leaning forward, hunching over himself, staring with one risen brow and one rather close to his silvery eye. The sparse white of his eyebrows blend with his skin, almost invisible.

  ‘Yes.’ The memory comes back to me; the foggy October afternoon, a year ago yesterday. I caught glimpse of her face, half covered by a pink scarf. It was all I had to go on, but it was her. I pushed her, her contract was through and it was time to pay up. She fell, landing in front of the passing train. It was rather messy, the sickening crunch of bones, the splatter of blood and the screams that came from onlookers. It was just another suicide to them. Another jumper. But then the girl, the one with her, the one that was screaming with such fury, such pain, I had overlooked her at the time, I wish I hadn’t.

  She was the one I was meant to kill first. Then the other. Technically I guess I still would have fulfilled the soul reaping on the pair of them, it has just taken a little longer to achieve, but they both will grace the Sea of Sorrow, I will make sure of it.

  ‘Does your father know?’

  ‘He will do, when I’ve completed it.’

  ‘But does he know, now?’ Alphie says, I meet his stare, cutting through his dark veil of hair, through to his onyx eyes.

  ‘You dare tell him, Alphie, you dare.’

  ‘I won’t. Not if you have it all under control.’ There is sarcasm, it drips from his lips.

  ‘Lighten up guys. The coronation’s tonight. It will be another fun-filled fest of lust, sin and drink. We want to show Merihim what it’s like to be like us, don’t we?’ Kaiser coaxes, thankfully changing the subject from me and my failures to Meriham and his title ceremony. I flex my fingers, leaning my head back into the chair, closing my eyes and feeling the bitter taste of the alcohol come back into my throat, the sweetness of the girls’ blood reminding me just how pleasant they can be, just how fun things can be while you’re a Prince. This will all change when I take over my Father’s reign, but that won’t be for a while yet, I still have much to do, many stones to bleed, many girls to reap and the secrets of Human emotions to find and understand.

  ‘Let’s hope your father doesn’t notice your lack of pendant.’ Alphie states thoughtfully. I can see him calculating the images in his head: my father noticing my lack of necklace, his raised voice, the whole ceremony looking at me like I am worthless of being called a Great Prince. Their shadows looming and swallowing me whole.

  ‘I don’t plan on being my father’s shadow, Alphie.’

  ‘Not yet, anyway.’ Alphie chuckles, somewhere in that laugh I detect the bitterness, the sardonic tease.

  ‘No, Alphie, he plans on getting everything he wants before stepping into his father’s shadow.’ Kaiser breaks Alphie’s absorbed and scornful smile, making him frown in slight distaste.

  ‘Damn right I am.’

  I am up and out of the chaise in one quick movement, disappearing into the shadows and out of the room. I have other places to be, plotting, scheming. I have things to do and sitting and hearing Alphie’s sarcastic digs, is certainly not one of them.

  His father sits upon that throne with an iron grip, and regardless of having an heir or not, I am sure death will be the only one to pry him from his place as Great King. My father, on the other hand, he is approaching his retirement, he has said it himself, and I just have to prove myself worthy before I get the title in my grasp. Something I plan on doing very soon.

  Very, very soon.

  Ellison –

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  My eyes flicker, groggily I shift my head, eyes hazy with sleep and weary with dreams. There is a kink in my neck that my hand automatically finds, messaging the start of my spine. Okay, so falling asleep at the desk at work is not one of my brightest ideas.

  As I shift, I feel achy, my head spinning; hang overs do not sit too well with me. I still feel the throb in my chest, the sting in my brain, it flushes to my cheeks as I peel myself up from being face first on the desk.

  Something slips from my shoulders and falls into my lap, I look down, adjusting to the faded light of the desk lamp, to see an old blanket. My eyes flicker and adjusting to the darkness of the room and the dull bulb in the lamp, I realise that I am still half asleep, the light, however low it is, still blinds me. My hands claw at my face in vain to lighten the assault on my eyes, shielding them.

  ‘Charlie?’ I call out, my throat feels scratchy, as if I have been wrapped in barb wire. I rub the remaining sleep from the corners of my eyes and feel the effects of slumber still weighing me down.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The clock on the desk, the small Edwardian decahedron style thing, ticks loudly, the second hand flicking around the worn pearlescent clock face with vigour. I squint, underneath the hazy lamp light I see just how long I have been asleep. I should have left work five hours ago. Clocking off at six ‘clock and meeting up with Jade and Liv just outside out favourite coffee place, the Jumping Bean.

  ‘Oh.’ I rummage through my jean pocket, pulling out my phone. Pressing the buttons in vain as it has ran out of battery. Propping my elbows on the desk I stare down into the deep wood grain, eyes still too hazy to make out much of what I had been doing, but flashes of recognition blind me, as well as the array of rings and bracelets, medallions and brooches scattered in fron
t of me. The thump in my temples I try and message out, ineffectively. How could I have fallen asleep just like that?

  Questions fill me and I decide that I cannot find answers just slumped at the desk. I slide back the wheeled chair, disorientated arms finding the desk to prop myself up with while I gather my head, my loose legs and my jumper that I had draped over the back of the chair.

  The small backroom is replete with boxes of antiquities that people have brought in, old attic clearances, heirlooms of those that have passed on. They litter the floor so much so that I must pick my way through, my way only lit by the jaded yellow bulb in the desk lamp. I push open the door to the main part of the shop and am met with the metal grill, the shutters closed tight.

  ‘He just let me sleep.’ I muse, trying to recall if Charlie had even tried to wake me; no, I don’t think he did. Only some hazy memory of feeling a blanket drape around my cold shoulders, but not much else. Gin is definitely not something I should touch again in a hurry, not if it leaves me hanging terribly the day after. Around the anniversary of my Sister’s passing, I always struggle to sleep, I’m sure that doesn’t help either. But I can think of worse places to wake up, Beaumont Antiques is definitely not one of those places.

  With the front of the shop locked, I tread carefully over the boxes in the back room, snatching up my keys in the locker and pulling my hoodie closer to my chest, I fumble with my t-shirt underneath, sleep has done it no justice. As I rearrange my shirt I feel the throb of life around my neck, my necklace is glowing quite feverishly. My fingers touch the pendant jewel, it feels blisteringly hot so much so that I snatch my finger away sucking on the burnt tips of my forefinger.