Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  ‘This thing is so weird.’ I murmur into the darkness, flicking off the lamp and steadily picking my way through the boxes. I have been here long enough to know where Charlie keeps everything and where the fire exit is, but I still trip over and knock into things. By the time I am out of the fire door and into the Mall, I rub the side of my head and my elbow, where I had walked into the edge of the large wardrobe.

  That’s strange. The Mall lights are still on, fluorescent and blinding, I stare up at the large round discs of light. Adjusting myself to the brightness from the darkness I had been accustomed to. I wonder what’s happening, I hope the cleaners are okay. I haven’t seen the early morning one in a while, he had said something about meeting the girl of his dream. I wonder if they got together, eloped out of East Hollow. I fumble with my hoodie, leaving it unzipped for now, if I’m walking through the Mall to get to the other fire door, then I don’t want to feel the icy chill sink though my clothes and into my bones, having been familiarised to the warmth inside.

  I hear voices, dull and slightly muted, but I hear them no less. I hear laughter, loud guffaws that sound a little too much to be the small cleaning ladies that clean the Mall at night. My pace quickens, curiosity fuelling me, and my weary limbs want nothing more than to crawl into a proper bed, that is the only thought driving me forward. Around the corner I spot the source of noise; hands drop to my side and I just stare, my mouth falls agape.

  Dozens, no, nearly a hundred, no, even more, I am unsure, there are too many to count in a single sweep of view. Men, women, all dressed in evening wear; noble suits and dazzling evening dresses. There are butlers scurrying around with golden trays, what looks like fine goblets and wine glasses all empty being refilled stealthily. My eyes, wide and disbelieving, scan the floor of the Mall, replete with finely-clothed people, all with loud voices and heart chuckles. Low hisses and gossiping tirades. I didn’t realise that the Mall had functions so late at night; my eyes glimpse a look at the clock in the heart of the shopping centre. No, the clock at work is right, it is after eleven, and nearly approaching quarter to midnight.

  ‘Tell me you are going to change.’

  I turn my head to find a tall, golden haired boy. He must be my age, the slight shadow on his face from shaving, but the youthful eyes that stare back at me with such scrutiny.

  ‘What?’ I answer, staring down at my clothes, feeling suddenly rather conscious of my old worn jeans and my hoodie, which I pull tighter around my body, ‘I was just leaving, I—‘

  ‘You dishonour me, it is my Princedom party and you wear that?’ his golden eyebrows knit close to his eyes as they narrow upon me, he takes a step closer, menacingly so, bridging the gap between us he takes the stray locks of my brunette hair and runs them through his fingers, looking at me with an alarming inspection. His nostrils flutter and I stagger backwards; he is sniffing me, he is smelling me! What sort of weird party have I fallen upon?

  ‘I haven’t seen you before.’ He announces, a hand going to his chest where I see him brush his necklace aside, I stare, more like gawk, at the golden chain that hangs around his neck, complete with the familiar red stone that is glowing just as much as mine. ‘You have stowed away haven’t you? You’re not one of the lower ranked, aren’t you? This party is for nobility only and if you are one of them, then you are not worthy of my—‘

  ‘Meriham.’

  My eyes flit from the obnoxious blonde to the guy who has just appeared next to him; he looks like a shadow, looming beside him with glowering eyes and an errant smirk. I take a couple of steps back, feeling like I can make my escape, just slip out unnoticed as the two glare daggers at one another, but just as I turn around I feel a hand reach for my wrist, pulling me back towards them.

  ‘Evander, I thought you would be lounging up top with your friends, looking at what mayhem you can cause.’ The blonde snaps at the air; there is quite a bitterness, such a cold reception that I feel almost like ice as he stares at me, but the guy that has his hand clasped around my wrist scoffs at him, pulling me to the other side of him and out of the way. I almost feel like a ragdoll, pulled one way and then the other. His grip is tight and I feel my wrist burning under his pressure.

  ‘This is your party, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be the centre of attention? Go back to the others, Meriham, leave this new acquaintance to me.’

  ‘So she is one of us, is she?’ his scrutiny makes me feel so small, I cannot bear to look him in the eye, so I manage to pull myself out of the black-haired guy’s grip and stand just behind him.

  ‘Did you fail to notice something?’ A dark chuckle breaks Merihim’s concentration, he narrows his eyes at the other boy with such disdain I am sure he wants to pummel him to the floor in that very second, but instead he laughs at the black-haired one’s words and turns upon a heel, leaving with a swoosh of his ebony cape.

  ‘Of course I didn’t. She just looks like trash is all.’

  ‘Trash?’ I repeat, narrowing my eyes as he disappears into the crowd, I feel my fingers curl into my palm, balling both hands into fists. ‘Who is he calling trash?’

  ‘Well you, evidently.’

  I turn back around to face him, noticing the gleam of mischief in his sapphire eyes, the way he folds his arms over his chest in a dignified manner, it does not account for his unruly black hair, looking like quills, like black feathers. Little diamond cufflinks do not hide the creases in his shirt, or the looseness of his knotted tie.

  ‘You... You were the one in Avalon last night.’

  ‘You observe well.’ he has a cool voice, like crushed velvet, course to the ears but feeling smooth as he rolls his words over his tongue. His eyes sweep over me, judging me just like the other one. I pull my hoodie closer, but not before he takes hold of my necklace in his fingers, cocking his head to one side as if examining it, as if remembering it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, feeling him loom right above me, so close, I feel the warmth from him radiate as he leans down, still with a slight tilt in his head, still with his fingers running over the chain, pulling me closer towards him. I cannot help but remember how he had all those girls last night swooning, how they had left his side teetering and wobbly, glassy-eyed with euphoria.

  ‘You have something of mine.’ There is a darkness that creeps over his pale face, a bitterness framing his voice, but all I see when I stare up at him, is blue eyes so dazzling and a smirk so playful, I cannot see how he can speak so darkly, so menacingly, yet maintain such mischief, such trouble tainting his features.

  ‘I don’t have anything of yours, I don’t even know you.’ I state, my voice betrays my trembling hands, it is stronger, more resolute than I intended, and it does cause him to take a step back, in that time I peel myself out of his reach, sidling back into a wall, and feeling very much like prey in his predator-like eyes.

  ‘Look around. See something familiar, something that everyone is wearing?’ he gestures with his hand, as he does I clock his ringed fingers, gold and silver, all with emblems, thick and thin, upon his forefingers, his thumbs, his middle fingers. Adorned with many rings, rather gothic and vintage. His head turns and he looks over at the crowd of people, their laughter fills the Mall and I feel suddenly so ice cold, yet so feverish, I wonder if there is something in the air, some sort of drug, a poison laced in the air vents. I feel slightly light-headed, suddenly so full of goose bumps.

  ‘Suits. Everyone’s wearing suits.’ I say, my voice low, hoarse. I push myself closer to the wall and out of his shadow, but he looms again, his glinting eyes engulfing me, his lips twisting into a smile.

  ‘I take back what I said. You aren’t very observant.’ He rolls his tongue over his lips, the way he does it, he makes it look rather suggestive. He pockets one hand and the other he leans against the way, so casually it doesn’t look that menacing, but he is closing the gap between us and I feel rather suffocating, I step aside, out of his gaze and his shadow, rubbing my arms with my hands. I just want to get out of here and this
weird cult like party.

  ‘What is everyone wearing that I am not?’

  ‘But you’re wearing a suit—‘

  ‘What are you wearing, that I am not?’ there is annoyance in his voice, the way he snaps the last few words, the way he captures me by the wrist as I start walking, and reels be around to face him. It makes me feel exposed, unsafe. He bends his head down, eyes level with mine, his fingers pull at the necklace and I realise, by his bare chest, bar the exquisite black suite with stark white shirt, he has no necklace, like the others, like me…

  ‘But this was a gift, Charlie gave it to me, it can’t be yours.’ I say, hand automatically finding the pendant, but finding it too hot to touch. Whilst the black-haired boy easily brushes his warm hand over it, clasping it in his palm. His closeness makes me feel very heady, very uncomfortable. How could those girls be on his lap, so close to him, having his hands wander their bodies?

  ‘Does this Charlie often give away possessions that do not belong to him?’ he lifts an arched eyebrow, his blue eyes narrowing upon me, yet his lips twist into a smirk, one most dazzling, if I wasn’t feeling rather scared, I would say he is just like any other guy, flirtatious and egotistical.

  ‘I... didn’t realise it is yours.’ I stare down, the hot gold feeling molten under my grip as I try and remove it, ‘do you want it back?’

  He curls my fingers back around the hot metal, I feel it burn, but say nothing, his eyes, they stare, so intensely that I feel trapped beneath his gaze.

  ‘You keep it, for now.’ the smirk grows more sinister, yet he chuckles, ‘it is the only thing that is stopping them all from tearing you apart.’

  ‘Tearing me apart?’ I feel a lump form in my throat, one that I cannot swallow, a breath I dare not take. He looms again, a menacing shadow in a suit, quill like hair falling over his eyes. I see a glimpse of glitter by his left ear, three single hoops of silver adorn his lobe, and they sparkle beneath the fluorescent lighting, just as dazzling as his sapphire gem eyes, just as haunting as his smirk.

  Who is this guy? Who are all of these people?

  ‘Keep it until you leave.’ His stare is unsettling, but not as much as him looping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him; I catch his scent, he smells of burning, of sulphur and smoke, of crackling wood in a fire. He takes a few steps, pulling me along, his arm still draped over me, keeping me in the nook of his arm, stopping me from running, stopping me from thinking; I’m all heady by the intoxication of his smell, of his presence and of all the rest.

  ‘It is a party after all, shall we not join the festivities?’ he looks down at me and I meet his gaze, not wanting to, but being compelled to by an invisible thread – it feels so strange, my feet they want to turn and run, but I feel stuck by his side, trapped under his gaze, his weighty arm looping me close.

  Evander –

  ‘I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.’ I warn, eyes keeping themselves upon the curious girl; her fingers outstretched to a tray of fine goblets, filled with claret, but not exactly what she was thinking it was. I push her with my shoulder, budging her on through the throng of chatter and rigid eyes – I feel the pressure of their gaze, the hardness in their eyes, if I’m feeling their gaze, I wonder what she is feeling. Knitting her hands into her hoodie, occasionally glimpsing a look at a few of the succubus that strut by with their half-naked bodies writhing in silk and velvet. Her eyes are wide, doe-like and confused but she says very little, I can see the cogs in her brain working, the wheels in motion. She has many questions of this little foray, many questions indeed. But there is only one that sits upon her darling lips, one I can see forming in her mouth, ready to slip from her tongue.

  ‘Are you some sort of… cult?’ her voice is innocent, naïve. I feel like I am leading a lamb to slaughter – not yet anyway, for now I will have my fun – with her soft heart-shaped face, big brown eyes and gentle waves of chocolate hair, she looks ever so much like the sister, apart from their personalities. This one, darker, gloomier, the shadow of the twinset I am certain; standing within the loom of her dearest sister’s light. I get that feeling, I get that feeling a lot.

  ‘Do the suits give it away?’ I chuckle, biting at my bottom lip, succeeding in moving her out of the bustle of the centre of the party, to the outskirts of the Mall, she is safe from the likes of my father, the other Lords and Dukes and Kings. And safe, right now from Kaiser and Alpheus.

  ‘That and these.’ Her hand goes for her neck, fingers clasping the red jewel in her hand, flinching slightly at its burning temperature she pulls it back, looking up at me with questioning eyes and a slight rise in her lip. I am unsure if it is a hint of a smile, or a question that wants so much to slip free, but is being held back, in her throat and burning in her chest; next to the lively beating of her heart.

  ‘I dare not think what it is you do…’ her eyes wander for several moments, the way she tilts her head, it lets me see the chiselled shape of her cheekbones, her profile is rather smooth, a work of art, that a sculptor would love to replicate. The soft curves of her cheekbones to the gentle slope of her nose. I clutch hold of a stray goblet, thumb and forefinger running over the rim, I watch her with narrowed eyes, hearing her heartbeats pound with a fever, a ferocity that only comes with fear, with unknowing. I’m sure her eyes are darting for an exit, an escape from this place, from us, from me.

  ‘Just let it remain a mystery. The unknown has a daring quality about it… one most intriguing.’ I place down the cup on one of the servant’s trays, he is weaving around the perimeter of Demons, a look of exhaustion and misery lining his hollow cheeks and black-rimmed eyes. My attention is drawn back to the girl, whose eyes find mine once more.

  ‘You know, I can just give you the necklace and go if you’d like… I’m obviously interrupting something—‘ she says, her eyes dropping to stare at my feet.

  ‘Merihim will forgive you from showing him up; it’s already forgotten, look.’ I gesture with my hand to the heart of the foray, my father is talking with the new Prince, his beaming grin sickly and bright. I was like that once, basking in the rays of nobility. It means nothing when you remain in your father’s shadow, until he steps down and you take his place, and then eyes will burn into you, with such scrutiny, one slip up and you pay. No more basking in those luminary rays.

  ‘Are you all some sort of visiting royalty?’ she asks, once again her intrigue peaks, her eyes lift and scan the room, watching most intently on the servants who scuttle around, I see she is looking at Manson, whom is plucking my father’s empty glass and handing him one newly poured. His tiredness shows in his strides, there is a limp, I wonder if it is through exhaustion or a trained hand across his back.

  ‘You could say that.’ I say, leaning back into the free wall between the coffee shop and the novelty store, resting both arms over my chest, eyes training upon the girl; her sister, Madison, I remember, but hers… what is hers…

  ‘I remember you from Avalon, with those friends of yours. You all caused a bit of a stir.’

  ‘Then the night went as planned.’

  ‘Is that what you do, you rich Princes? You like to come to a little town, with no life, with all its misery, just to cause more?’ there is a darkness that drapes her words, a shadow that creases her face, I notice it, and I am sure all the others in the building can – she is too susceptible, too open with her bitterness. She is a prime target for a demon to lure into a contract, to bind themselves to Hell, for one desire, for a few wishes.

  No. I can’t have that. She’s mine.

  ‘Your town, East Hollow, it is wide open… and last I checked, Avalon is a club, clubs allow patrons, do they not?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was all that special... For royalty and all.’

  ‘Do you not think it’s not the club but the club goers that catch our attention?’ I stare at her, all my allure, all my charm lifting in my half smirk, it does nothing but cause her to take a step back. I forget I am a predator… I forget that i
t is their souls I am after, but this one, this one, I want everything. So I move with her, in one quick stride I am by her side and take her hand in mine and pull her close, so close all she can do is look up, stare into my eyes absent and hollow.

  ‘Er…’ she pulls away and I am lost for that moment; her soft skin leaving mine, the thunderous gallop of her heartbeats in her chest now dull in my ears as she leaves the close proximity and swerves away, bracing her arms around her torso, so childlike and innocent, it makes me want to show her all the horrors of Hell. All the dastardly things that happen in this world, all by Demon hands. I wonder if I showed her what her sister looked like, would she still be so eager to pull away and act all innocently tough.

  ‘Elli, right?’ I say, smooth and charming; debonair and beguiling. Like a real Prince should be. I watch her, lifting half my lips into a cocky smirk as she turns back around with a curious rise of an eyebrow.

  ‘How do you know my name?’

  Because your sister screamed it for days. Because it was the only thing upon her tongue before she was thrown into the iron cells of torture…

  ‘I heard your friends call you it. Is it short for something?’

  ‘Ellison.’ Her eyes do not meet mine, she is determined not to be caught in my gaze, to be swallowed by my presence; wise girl. This will make it that much harder on my part.

  ‘Evander.’

  ‘Huh?’ she asks, a deluded stare meets me for a split second, rather self-consciously she draws herself away, inch by inch I can see her working her way to one of the fire exits. She is definitely not like her sister, not like all the others…

  ‘Evander. Evan. My name.’

  ‘Evan.’ she rolls it upon her tongue, absorbing it for a moment, I see her repeating it, noiselessly. The way her mouth moves and words my name, it is quite special. Quite human.