Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  ‘My sister was dead. She is dead. She is not coming back… you showed me that… you showed me that I have my own dreams, that I am my own person... Evan, I don’t want my sister.’

  ‘I gave you money, you threw it back at me, I kissed you, that was not enough, tell me Elli, tell me what you want so I can set you free.’ I whisper the last few words, she doesn’t catch them, I am pleased she didn’t, because I don’t think she would have done what she does next. Her fingers trail my face, they run carefully along my cheekbones and to my lips, where they remain for a moment, her eyes staring up, all honest and true, all sweet and beautiful.

  ‘I want you.’

  Ellison –

  The doorbell rings, it vibrates through the entire house, it bounces from the living room to the kitchen to where I am standing just in front of the refrigerator, hand poised and ready to open. Just about to pull open the door, it rings again and again. I am in the house on my own, my parents are out, Madi is with Jack, and no one would be knocking for me. I ignore it, but soon the doorbell turns into a shake of the door, knocking, pounding, and knocking.

  ‘I’m coming.’ I say through gritted teeth, closing the refrigerator with a slam and running to the door, my feet pound at the linoleum with the same pace as the pounds strike into the door. I stare through the peep hole, but no one is there, I raise an eyebrow, press down the handle and open the door, to reveal nothing, not even a cold breeze, and not even a note or a parcel. I close the door, turning around, but fly backwards as soon as I lift my head. Perched on the stairs is the guy from the other night, his black hair falling over his blue eyes in a way that makes my heart skip a beat, he stands there, so casually, so nonchalant, with a hand lazing on the banister.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ I demand, my voice sounding less like the quiver it feels and more forceful. For that I am thankful.

  ‘I’m looking for your sister.’ He rolls the term sister with quite a sinister growl. He takes a step down from the three stairs and is directly before me, he towers above me by a few heads height, and I have to crane my neck upward as he stares down, pinning me with his gaze and stopping me from running. All I can think is how to escape, all I can think is how do I run?

  And then I think of nothing. My mind goes blank, empty.

  ‘Do you know where she is?’ he asks me, and I reply with a calmness, a strange informality, as though he is a friend, someone I know so well, not at all a handsome stranger who has intruded upon my home.

  ‘She’s with her boyfriend.’

  ‘Oh, she does like to run from responsibility, doesn’t she?’

  ‘What is this about? I ask again, losing the feeling of foreboding instead feeling like I know him, like I know him so well.

  ‘You dear sister has to pay up, and I’m afraid that her payment is quite pricey.’

  ‘Well, can I not pay in her place?’ I ask, glancing into the living room where my purse lays idle on the table.

  ‘Oh, you are already paying, Ellison.’ The way he stares, it makes me feel uneasy, the feeling of foreboding return, but also familiarity. His eyes. They burn bright like sapphires. This is a memory. This is a dream-like memory. I’ve been here before. The same with the station, the night of my date, each time I have seen him, his blue eyes, his unruly hair, his pale face, so handsome, so familiar.

  ‘Evan.’ I say, and he distorts, his body trembling in a way water does when you throw stones into it, it ripples and pulses, until he is gone and I am met with a strong smell of salt, of burning, of decay and blood.

  ‘Evan… Evan… I saw you. I saw you even before… even then, even then you saw me.’ my voice garbles and I look up, all I see is red, flames dance ahead of me in a rainbow of range hues. I see spirals of thick, dark smoke, and the smell of burning claws at the back of my throat, but then I see him, his eyes, his face, and I remember nothing else. I’m in his arms, my face buried into the nook of his shoulder; on his clothes I smell it, a familiar woody taint, smoky and sweet, spicy and burnt. He smells of this place. I claw at his back, my fingers pressing into him, pulling him closer. I hear him mumble something yet I cannot hear through the pounding of my heart.

  ‘You make me feel whole, Evan, you make me feel, me.’ I whisper, pulling myself out of his embrace, through the haze of sleepiness and exhaustion, my voice sounds like it is coming from miles away, it sounds like it isn’t even coming from my lips. He looks at me in a way that disturbs me, his eyes holding back things, his eyebrows are so low, that it looks like his eyes cast long, burdensome shadows across his brow. And then I see her.

  Madison.

  Over Evan’s shoulder, I see her face, her big eyes, and her flawless skin; though not so flawless right now. Marked, bruised, blood stained. She looks half of what I remember her. And then I remember everything. Alpheus, Evan’s friend, he was in the alleyway, not Evan, and he took me in his arms and said he would show me everything I wanted, he would give me what Evan would not. At first I was scared, I didn’t know what he meant, he lured me in with words of my sister, and along the journey from earth to… to this place, he told me what the three of them were. And where I was going and where Madison has been for the past year.

  I couldn’t believe him, and yet, here she is. Her pouty lips, her doe like eyes. But they stare at me with no sisterly compassion, no love, no kindness, they narrow upon me and I feel just like I did when she was still alive, insulting what I was wearing, telling me I shouldn’t do that, telling me how I should act, how I should be…

  ‘Madison?’ I stammer, staring up and moving towards her, outstretching my fingers, wanting to touch her, to see if she is real, or just another memory passing my mind.

  ‘How kind of you to finally notice me, oh wait, you’ve replaced me already.’ She snaps, her voice like venom, poisoning my ears. I feel the sting, as though her tongue has whipped me, lashed out and I stagger back half a step.

  ‘I… I have never replaced you, Madi, Madi you’re my sister, you’re my other half.’ I plead, my words falling out in quick succession, yet she does not listen, she doesn’t accept anything that comes from me, she raises her hand and I feel a sting across my face, my head is whipped sideways and I reach up to where she has smacked me. I stare down, as it happened so fast, Evan has pulled her down, a chain around her neck snaps her into place, his foot buries into her spine and I see her struggle, her choking against his hold, but he does not relent, instead he continues, his face contorting, his eyes burning, so dark, so hateful.

  ‘Evan… Evan, please.’ Tears well in my eyes, they burn before they run down my cheeks, mixing with dirt and the painful bruise I feel starting to form on my cheek from where Madi had clouted me. I reach forward, watching as Madison turns limp, her face pressed into the dirt. I step forward, closer and closer to him, at my pleas he drops the chain at his feet, it coils and snaps to the ground, lifting a cloud of red dust and white bone fragments up with it. I reach my hand to his face, touching his cheek, my fingers feel electric against his warmth, and they feel featherlike and ethereal as I stroke his cheek with my palm. Please, I think, please don’t.

  ‘Ellison.’ He says my name, he says it with a growl, it makes me drop my hand to my side, it doesn’t feel right, and it feels cold, heartless. My eyes draw to the chain on the ground, to Alpheus’s words. Demons. Souls. Contracts. My mind is a whir or thoughts, of memories, both old and new. They flash through my mind’s eye, I see Evan sitting in the cold January night on a bench, and I feel the warmth of his hoodie even in the cold that peppers my skin. I see him standing on the stairs, his eyes mischievous and dark. Then at the station. I see him in Avalon, he takes my wrists in my hands and I can almost feel him do it again, I hear my heartbeats racing against my pulse, flooding my chest with sounds of thunder.

  ‘There’s a lot you need to know.’ He finally says, in what seems an eternity of heartbeats and racing pulse. I connect with him, but he cannot meet my eyes; I feel like the roles have been reversed. I could not bear to l
ook at him, I could not muster the strength to even study his face, if I had, I would have remembered, surely. Had I repressed all these memories, when Madi died?

  ‘You made a deal with Madison… I know that much – I cannot believe she sold her soul to the devil, I can’t… I can’t believe you are one.’ I reel off as much as I can, before feeling the warmth of tears brush my cheeks, before I feel a heady pulse throb in my temples.

  ‘Elli, I killed your sister.’ Evan finally meets my eyes, but his words, his words I cannot hear, all I see is his lips moving, but I understand every word he mouths. He can’t. He couldn’t have.

  ‘No. no. not you… she jumped, she fell, it was an accident.’ I fall, I stumble, losing my balance, my breath, I cannot breathe and when I suck in to try and take a breath, all I get is thick sulphur and ash. I choke, I cough, the floor comes too quickly, and I’m going to join my sister, face first in the dirt. But an arm reaches for me, wrapping around my shoulders, bracing me and tilting me back into the cold stone. It feels ice cold as I brush my hand over it, I feel the traces of dried blood, I smell it, and it smells revolting. Death, decay and blood. Ash, fire and sulphur. I cannot swallow without wanting to be sick. I feel bile rise in my throat, bitter and tainted it claws and burns the back of my throat. I cannot believe this. It isn’t real, just like my memories this is a dream, a nightmare.

  ‘I saw you there… I saw you at the house… I saw you at the station… you did do it… you killed her.’ I admit, feeling the hot air reach my neck, sending the small spindles of hair to stand on end, the ash fills my nostrils, assaults my senses. This is no dream.

  ‘She wanted me to kill you too.’ He does not try and hide the fact he despises my sister, his lip curls into a scowl as he takes a lasting look at her before bringing himself to me.

  ‘No. she wouldn’t… we were twins, we were sisters, we were each other’s half—‘ I cannot believe it, it feels all monstrous and evil, all lies and deception.

  ‘She signed a contract with me, for perfection she would barter two souls, hers and yours. Elli, she wanted you taken first, she was so selfish, so self-centred, and she bargained her own sister first.’ he hisses, his voice like a snake, his eyes like a rat, narrow and cold, like ice, staring at me in the shadows. A nightmare, this is just a nightmare.

  ‘Then why didn’t you…?’ I struggle against the pull of reality and dream, this is real, and this is real. I squint my eyes and look straight at him. If this is true, then why didn’t he take me instead?

  ‘I told you before, Elli, you are the better one. If it were you or her, I would let you live. And I did.’

  ‘You… you let me live. Then what about now… why am I here… why am I—‘

  ‘I needed to know what you wanted, Elli, all you wanted was her, all you wanted was your damn sister. To complete the deal I needed to give you what you wanted, to bind you, to take your soul—‘ I cut him off, lifting a hand to him and stepping forward. His words tremble, they quiver like a butterfly in my hands as I reach for his cheek, he trembles, his skin so warm, so blistering hot, it is like touching burning white stone, but not flinching away. I don’t want to flinch away from him.

  ‘My sister was dead. She is dead. She is not coming back… you showed me that… you showed me that I have my own dreams, that I am my own person... Evan, I don’t want my sister.’

  ‘I gave you money, you threw it back at me, I kissed you, that was not enough, tell me Elli, tell me what you want, so I can set you free.’ My fingers trail his face, fingertips dance so softly over his cheek, by his nose, to his ear, under his jaw. I feel every part of his face beneath my touch, it quivers with life, with pain. I see his eyes squint at me, not understanding. My fingers reach his lips, where they stay, even they tremble, I feel his bottom lip extend, pouting, quivering.

  ‘I want you.’ I whisper, staring up at him, dropping my hand to my side. It is no use, he just stands there motionless, and his eyes like ice. So cold, so freezing. I feel that his stare can ice up every vein in my body, stop my heart with one glance. And he does. One glance and one kiss. That is all I feel as I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me, this is what I want, I want to feel whole, I want my missing puzzle piece.

  His kiss is electric, it pulses through me and I feel my heart skip a hundred beat, so warm, so hot his hands move to my face, where his thumbs brush away the tears that have left their marks just underneath my eyes. He brushes his fingertips down my cheeks and cups the back of my neck. I can see every little detail in his eyes, and I see that they shine with a wetness, a shine of tears. He tilts his head forward, his forehead touching mine, our noses just brushing, another kiss and he mumbles into me.

  ‘I will always remember you, but you, you will never remember me.’

  Evander –

  My hands shake, I cannot control my fingers as they peel away her wet hoodie. My breath catches in my throat as I lift her slender arm, moving her so carefully onto her bed. I keep an eye on the door, it remains closed for now, but just above the door, the glass shows a light blinding from the living room. Beneath the crack in the door I can hear television voices arguing. Her friends are here. I must be as quiet as I can, but catching my lip with my teeth is all I can do to try and stop the urge to scream, the urge to claw at the walls, exposing my horns, my real self.

  I had undone her window, opened it carefully with nimble fingers. Elli lay upon my shoulder, her hair falling over her face. Lost in a world of sweet dreams and a utopia of good memories, she knows none of what I am doing. Her last conscious thought is our kiss, my retreating words, but in the morning when she wakes, she will remember nothing of me, nothing of Hell or seeing her sister. It will be like the beginning, but this time… with something to keep her going strong.

  I pull Charlie’s will from out of my back pocket and lay it on her bedside table. She keeps it bare, save for an empty water glass. When she stirs in the morning it will be the first thing she sees. I stare down at my hands, still they tremble, and still they cannot control the inner turmoil, the inner battle of emotions. I want to hold her right now and never let go, I want to remain here for an eternity and just watch her, to lay next to her sleeping form, watch her twitch in her dreams, and see her chest rise and fall as she breathes.

  But I can’t.

  I’ve fought myself the journey here from Hell, I flew as slow as possible, wanting to retreat, to take her back with me. She could stay, stay with me, in the courts eyes, as a servant, just a female – it isn’t uncommon for Kings, for Dukes and Lords to have a female they keep within their rooms. It is all sordid gossip around the castle. The idea passed me, but I let it slip by. She is no common whore, she is not like her sister, and she is not like anyone I’ve ever met. She is too good for me, so I must return her to her own life, her own world.

  My eyes run over each ring, sitting upon my thumb, I play with the red pentagram. I easily slide it from my thumb and rest it just atop the envelope. Something of me, without knowing it’s from me.

  I lean her back into the pillows, pulling her up so that her head rests against the soft curve of the pillow, as I do that, her necklaces move, they shift and fall out from her t-shirt. My pendant, and the medusa talisman. I run my finger over the red jewel, it seems different now, she has worn it for that long, and it has lost my connection. I unclasp it. The same with the talisman and pull them from her neck.

  She cannot have any reminders, any clues to what has happened. Her friends I will leave, they will just think she has fallen into a slump, the death of Charlie, me leaving the scene, they will think she has repressed everything, forgotten. Just like she had the first time with her sister.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, my hand near hers, I can feel her heartbeats tremor through her hand, and I can feel every pulse fight through her body. This tears me apart inside, it feels like nothing has ever hurt like this; not being stabbed in the back by a sword, not having my head nearly decapitated by a scythe. The bru
ises within me that Alpheus has left, betrayal, they will fade. New skin will grow in its place. After all, in a few days’ time, I will have the kingship ceremony and I will wear around my neck, my father’s medallion. In a few days’ time I will be sitting in his throne, listening to orders and giving orders. I will be one step closer to my feeble goal of becoming Satan’s right hand.

  And I will also be one step further away from her.

  I hear footsteps in the hall outside, I shroud myself, invisibility, I remain still perched on her bedside, watching her, when the door creaks open. It’s her black haired friend, her hand shoots to her mouth, she whispers something, something I cannot quite grasp, but she shuts the door.

  She’ll be fine here. She has her friends, she has her life. Beaumont antiques is now hers. She has everything she could possibly want.

  Bar the memory of me.

  I want you. Her whisper echoes in my mind and right then, I decide it’s time to leave. I lean towards her, brushing her lips with my fingers, she stirs slightly, but still is lost to reality. I lean my face down to hers and I brush my lips along her cheek, they find her lips and my fingers trace the curves of her ear. I have to tear myself away, I cannot torture myself any longer. I must leave her, it’s for the best, it is only for her that I am doing this.

  I am a Great King now, I have no need to finish that mission. I can right this off as a failure.

  Ellison Rose doesn’t belong in Hell, we have her sister, she is enough to torture for years to come, and even then, it will never be enough.

  I stand by the window, looking back at her sleeping form, I clasp onto the pendants in my hand, so tightly that they bend to my will. I cannot look back, if I look back I will not want to leave.