Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  ‘What are you implying, Alphie?’ I growl, pacing holes into the plush carpet, stalking over to the dark haired demon, looming a shadow over him and his forsaken book. ‘I will not be defeated by some human girl.’ I sneer, losing myself into the twists of anger, it writhes at my face and I can feel my human form metamorphosing. Twisting and shaping into the rage within. I stop, bringing both hands to my face, fingernails clawing down each eye, each cheek, leaving crumbling skin behind in tattered lines.

  ‘I implied nothing, Evan.’ He looks up and places his book to one side, getting up from his stool and meeting my height and my gaze.

  ‘You need to calm yourself.’ He eases, his words are as crisp and cool as the night air on earth, as cool and welcoming as the October chill in East Hollow. ‘You just need to find something she wants. Then it’ll be over. Simple.’

  Simple. I sneer at the word, I clutch it in my palm and screw it up, wanting to dispose of everything simple in my life. But when faced with a difficulty, something hardly simple, I struggle.

  ‘I can think of a lot of things she’ll want.’ Kai muses, cocking one leg over the other whilst he leans over and catches the goblet within his fingers, swirling the cup and looking into the bubbling red liquid before meeting it to his lips; stone grey eyes finding mine, a tilt of a smirk resting on his lips.

  ‘What was her response tonight?’ he asks, before taking a long gulp of his drink.

  ‘Before hitting me, or after?’ I can still feel the sting of her skin as it struck me, my fingers trail my cheek, remembering every little inch of tonight’s venture. Her soft skin, her wet hair, her sweet smell. I grip my eyes tightly closed, willing these ridiculous thoughts from my mind.

  ‘Well, before, obviously. You did something wrong.’ He adds, looking over to Alphie who walks simply to the table, eyeing up the half eaten bones and the nibbles of meat and succulents with a curious eye and probing finger. He opts for a lonesome finger bone and scrapes it along his teeth before turning to me, still with a little dribble of blood from his mouth, he speaks.

  ‘A human heart is fragile, we know that, you know that. Are you using that to your advantage?’

  ‘Her heart aches for her sister.’ I seethe, turning my gaze to the vast window, outside in the red haze of Hell, in the winds of heat and salt, down in her cell, is that bitch of a sister. She is nothing like Ellison. If I did not know, I wouldn’t even think they were related. How can one be so sweet, so kind, so innocent, whilst the other is so eager to sell herself out and bring her sister down with her?

  ‘Then use that to your advantage.’ Alphie says, picking at the nail on the finger and pulling it off, discarding it to the floor for the servants to clear up. ‘Drop a hint, something, to let her know that she is better off with you, well, following you.’ He stops, tears his eyes from the knuckle of his snack, to mine, where he holds my gaze for a few moments longer before continuing.

  ‘Being with you would be rather foolish.’

  ‘Alphie, dude, that’s rule number one. Everyone in Hell knows that a Demon and a Human can never really be like that.’ Kai leans his head into the velvet pillows, lazily draping his arm over the back of the chair, glancing to the door to the living room, hoping to catch a servant no doubt.

  ‘However, nothing stops us from having a bit of fun, just nothing on an emotional level – but who wants emotions when you can have a body?’ he winks, realising his own words, I see the wheels turning and I can tell exactly what he is going to say, even before he utters his words, I raise a hand.

  ‘I don’t—‘

  ‘You need to have another girl, Evan. You need to vent out your frustration. Why don’t we swing by Avalon and pick you up a nice, tasty little skirt?’

  ‘Do you really think adding another to the equation is helpful?’ Alphie says, and I am thankful for once, that he is the smarter one.

  ‘I know what she wants.’ I muse, my thoughts clear and free from the shadows that have draped them, from my own doubts and my own safety. The witch had warned me all along, I had ignored her warning and now, now I know exactly how to get her with me, but that… that would mean deceiving her, inviting her into a trap that would be most cruel, most torturous.

  And I don’t know if I can bear seeing her heart shaped face crumble.

  Alphie’s dark eyes are shadowed by something, I see them creep up from his neck, the darkness painting his pale skin a dull shade of grey, his fingers trail along the cooked skin on his finger snack, brushing off a bit of char, thoughtfully he turns, so slowly, to where he was sitting, scoops up the book in one hand and reads aloud a passage.

  ‘For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.’ His tongue rolls over every syllable, he dawdles upon the last word, his eyes meeting mine as a twisted smirk plays upon his face.

  ‘Shakespeare?’ I ask, to which I hear Kaiser laughing, choking and laughing whilst leaning forward and bracing himself against the table.

  ‘Did you steal that off him when you visited him last?’ he pauses, ‘Any other of the literary geniuses catch your eye or just the forlorn old guy?’

  ‘Laugh all you want, it is not me that thinks this some doomed romance.’

  ‘There is no romance, but there is doom. There is always doom.’ Kaiser adds, still laughing, still choking. I turn away from their laughter, drowning out their own chatter with my runaway train of thoughts.

  She wants the shop, which is her main dream, she said it herself. I cannot be that high up in her mind, not if she slapped me. Would you slap the one you are falling for? No. you’d pull them into your arms and never want to let go, you’d whisper promises you cannot keep into their ear, you would tell them that nothing in the world is out of their reach, that they would pluck stars from the sky, and light their face with their light. Steal the moon from the dark blanket, for nothing shines as bright as her starry lit eyes.

  You wouldn’t slap someone you were growing fond of.

  You wouldn’t.

  Well, I wouldn’t.

  I will give her Beaumont’s, I will find a way to make her happy, to find what she wants and give it to her… she can have her fair share of enjoyment out of life before…

  Before the inevitable.

  Ellison –

  Puddles drip and form from my clothes, trickling down my side, my legs, from every fingertip, they drown the plush grey carpet underfoot, but it is not the carpet, or the concern for cleaning it up that is the cause of the cry, the hands that shoot to their faces, it is me, me standing there, drowned by rain and tears, white ice underneath mounds of dripping clothes, it is not the mess I traipse in, wet mud and gravel, it is my tears, my leaking eyes that they get tissues for, it is my sorrow that that in turn makes the kettle click on and pour out Tea.

  Tea cures all ills.

  Even ills of the heart.

  ‘Is he a jerk? I knew he’d be a jerk. Rich, Princely type, bound to be a jerk.’

  ‘Liv, I don’t think talking like that will help.’ Jade hands me a mug of tea, strong and sugary, just how I like it, but my numbed fingers can barely hold the white ceramic still, chattering teeth can barely string a sentence together.

  ‘Did he hurt you, Elli?’ Liv asks, curled in front of me, on the floor, with her knees up to her chin, her pyjama bottoms tartan and holey. Her black hair piled atop her head in a mess of quills. Her soft eyes warm, the house warm. Yet I cannot shake the cold from my bones, from inside of my core.

  I shake my head, just as Jade hands me a towel from the bathroom. She drapes it over my shoulders and starts to rub my hair, the sodden mess knotted and frizzy.

  ‘He didn’t hurt me. I hurt him.’

  ‘What?’ Jade questions, steadying my shaking tea mug with nimble fingers.

  ‘I hit him.’ I say, through clicking teeth and a clenched jaw. I feel so cold. So numb. But inside, inside of the frost and the ice, I feel the chill of failure, of embarrassment.

  ‘Why?’ Liv asks.

  ‘He
gave me an envelope filled with fifties—‘

  ‘He gave you an envelope with money in? Where is it?’ Liv asks but Jade hushes her by throwing a pillow at her face, nimbly the black haired girl catches it and pulls it to her chest, leaning into it and closer to me.

  ‘I threw it back at him.’

  ‘Well, that was silly.’

  ‘Liv! Money isn’t everything. Material things don’t matter all the time.’ Jade talks in a low, gentle voice and as I stare up at her from the confines of the soft chair, I think just how much she looks doll-like right now. Big green eyes. Pouty lips and porcelain skin, her fingers so delicate, her nails painted pink, they clutch at my hand in the sisterly fashion. So caring, so loving.

  This is all I need to break me down once more.

  ‘He thinks I’m a charity case. That’s why he took me out, that’s why he said what he did… that’s why… I’m not good enough… I’m never good enough… it should have been me, not Madi, it should have been me—‘

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Liv is up, hands curling into fists by her side, her teeth bared as her eyes glare at me, ‘don’t you dare be feeling sorry for yourself and don’t you even think about saying it should have been you. He’s just another guy, he isn’t worth these tears and Madi, she is watching you and hoping you’ll do well, don’t wish that on yourself, don’t wish that on us.’

  ‘Don’t do anything silly, Elli, it’ll be alright in the end. Maybe it is just a misunderstanding.’ Jade, ever the optimist, ever the gentle. A contrast to Olivia who shoots her a harsh glare before taking both of my shoulders in her hands and forcing me to look up at her.

  ‘You know what you should do? You should dress yourself to the eyeballs, you should make him see just what he’s missing, just what he overlooked. Charity case. Who does he think he is?’ Liv starts her rant, always the same, when it comes with boys and hearts and romance and love. Deep down, like every girl, she falls head over heels at first sight, but it develops to the point where it hurts when it doesn’t go well. I guess, I guess I was starting to trip and fall at his feet. Fallen under his gemstone eyes, willing to be swallowed by his gaze and captured by his whimsical words.

  Madison would never make that mistake.

  ‘A charity case.’ I chuckle, finding the light side of it in the end; it has taken a whole mug of tea and a few towels to get it, but I have seen the light in the darkness, I have found my torch when I needed it, and it is my friends. My best friends. Without them, I think I would be in the ground beside my sister.

  ***

  The past few days have gone by in what seems like a time warp – fast and non-existent. Only a few more days left of October; the grey month, the month of sorrow. Beaumont’s Antiques has been quite busy, the ding of the door sounding out throughout the entire day, people coming in with wants and needs, and leaving with more than they bargained for, and the cash register has started to flow with regular money, the drawer no longer squeaking in protest. I have spent most of the day in front, serving customers, cleaning up, rifling through a couple of boxes, but I have left Charlie doing that in the back of the shop, the occasional cough and splutter and sneeze coming from him, but nothing more. I was hoping, secretly hoping without Liv and Jade knowing, that Evan would appear at some point. That he would stroll through the doors and look at the jewellery, pick out a few of the vintage gothic style and pour money into the register and meet me with those brilliant eyes.

  I even found a few more pieces, a few necklaces, rings and even a talisman. I had polished them up, to the point their gemstones glowed, just like his eyes. I put them on display in the glass box, waiting for him to pick them up, but nothing. I have no number to contact him, no way of finding him. I am starting to think that maybe this is all just some dream, some fantasy I have conjured up in my head, to try and help me cope without Madi. I am starting to believe that, but then I touch the jewel around my neck, feel its pulse, feel its warmth. I rifle through my jean pocket and feel the softness of the black feathers, and think, maybe, maybe it is real, and he will walk through the doors any minute, and it would be me apologising. Not him. He had no need to apologise. It was a nice thought. Wads of fifties in an envelope. But I didn’t want money, I earn my wage, I put it away for a house, for Madison’s house. Everything ticks by, I need no more than what I have.

  Except to mend the hole within me, to try and find the puzzle piece to make me feel whole again. I was starting to think I never would, that Madison was the only part of me, and with her gone, I thought I would never become whole again. The short while I have known Evan, each little meeting, each conversation, every stolen glance, he makes me feel as though my puzzle piece is not too far.

  He makes me think, that he is my missing piece.

  But then another day goes by and another, and before I know, it is the last day of October. Halloween and still no sign of him, still a thought in my mind that he is a figment of my wants, my desires. The perfect guy I have dreamt about, he isn’t real. The necklace, it is a gift from Charlie. The feathers, they come from a crow, a blackbird. They are coincidences. Nothing more. Just coincidences…

  Ding. Ding.

  I do not look up, I kneel just behind the counter, rifling through the drawers to find a magnifying glass that Charlie has misplaced. Though all the paperwork and handwritten envelopes strewn all over the floor, I just about miss it.

  Ding. Ding.

  Another customer deciding to leave, just because I’m not standing behind the counter, for their whims. I sigh, heavy and burdensome, grabbing the magnifying glass and getting up, hovering by the door to the back room.

  ‘I found it Charlie; it was with all your old envelopes and letters.’

  No answer. I leave the magnifying glass on an empty part of the cabinet just inside the back room, before slipping back into the front.

  Ding. Ding.

  I look up to the door. I swear those chimes will fade out and crack, fall to the floor and break if people insist on doing that.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I ask, watching the customer with intent; their shadowy hood pulled up around their face, concealing them from view. Menacing. I hate not seeing the face of someone who wants something. I ask again, but this time, I get an answer, but it is more than I intended.

  I see his eyes first. and then the tattoos on his arms as he pulls off his hoodie, the rings on his fingers, and then the twist of a smirk, so familiar, so familiar it causes a pang to knock against my chest, butterflies to flicker in my stomach, wanting freedom

  ‘Elli.’ He mentions my name and it feels like a dream again; so surreal, his voice like silk and velvet, wrapping around my neck, suffocating me, pulling me closer and closer to him until all I can do is drown in his eyes. Then I remember the rain, the cold, wet night. The sodden money, the envelope.

  The kiss.

  ‘Hello, Evan.’ so nonchalant. Olivia would be pleased.

  ‘Are you free?’

  ‘I’m working. As you can see.’ Another thing Olivia would be pleased about – hard to get, play it hard, let him chase.

  ‘Have anything that might intrigue me?’ he asks, the smirk growing on his lips. He stands with his back to the glass box, yet gestures with his hand, moving closer to the desk.

  ‘There’s a few bits I could show you.’ Keep things light.

  ‘Please do.’ he says, still the smirk does not fade. He leans one arm casually against the counter, as he does I see the ripples of his muscle, the ink of his tattoo. I can see it more prominent now, not under the iridescent flashes of light in the club. I see snakes, eyes and stone like facial cracks. The portrait dances and moves, it looks almost like the snake-haired woman is smiling, screaming, crying…

  ‘Does that mean anything?’ I ask, pointing to his arm, Evan looks down, cocking his head and rolling his shoulder forward, looking over the tattoo with wistful eyes.

  ‘Family thing.’

  ‘It’s medusa, right?’ gorgon. Snake hair. It’s definitely medusa. B
ut the insignias around it, the swirls, the glyphs. They don’t look Greek, they don’t look like they match. It reminds me of a few of the swirls on the talisman.

  ‘Oh. I found this.’ I step out from behind the desk, stepping over the piles of letters and notes, accidentally kicking one. I’ll pick it up in a minute. Mind focused on finding the key in my pocket, I then manage to open the glass box, keen hands picking out the talisman. The silver chain is quite thick, very heavy. Like lead, maybe iron. The heart of the talisman has the same medusa head as his tattoo, but the eyes, her eyes are far from stone. Precious gemstones, brilliant sapphires.

  ‘Medusa.’ I word, stringing up the chain so that the face can dangle freely, rocking back and forth. Her eyes almost entrancing; the same with the carved glyphs around it, the same etchings as what looks to be on Evan’s arm.

  ‘Is this yours too?’

  He is right in front of me, so fast, so swift. I did not even hear him move. His eyes are curious, eyebrows knitting low and together, ‘Do you mind?’ he asks, stretching out his hand to take it, I nod letting him pull the chain from my hand and hold the talisman up to the light, as he does, I see the full extent of the glyphs; they glow, making shadows on the ceiling, they appear hollow, carved out from the metal, so that the light moves through and makes the shadows. It fills the shop with a cold feeling, a few chills run over my arms.

  ‘Is it like this?’ I ask, thumbing the gold chain around my neck, he looks up from his distraction, only to shake his head.

  ‘No. This is different.’

  ‘So, it is yours?’ I ask, only to have him drop the chain and talisman into his hand and then hand it back to me.

  ‘No. But I will have it.’ he rummages his hand in his back jean pocket, pulling out a few worn fifties; I notice that they are crumpled where they have been sodden, and ironed out, dried and hung up. I try not to think about that, try and keep things neutral. He hands me the money and I go to hand him the talisman but he lifts his hand, stopping me, a smirk twisting upon his lips, brilliant eyes shining behind a few curls of ebony hair.