by Emily Walker
The ride over seemed to take forever and he pulled his reliable black pickup truck into the parking lot of a run-down looking building. Evermore Home for the Mentally Challenged was smaller than he thought it would be. When he walked inside there was only one small desk in the middle of the floor and nothing else. There weren’t any pictures or decorations on the walls. It was just one big white room with a lady at a desk in the middle.
He walked up to her slowly. “I’m here to see Z Perry.”
“Wizardhead is the third one down on the right.” The short red-haired woman didn’t even look at him. He got the feeling anyone could just walk right in. Man, she has some insensitive caregivers, he thought.
His aunt was sitting at a small desk in the corner of her room drawing when he walked in. It was funny how much he looked like her. They both had the same sandy-blond thick hair and green eyes.
“Aunt Z?” She turned slowly toward him and her eyes seemed to take a minute to focus. He realized they had her on something. His heart sank. She wouldn’t be able to give him any kind of information.
“Brent, honey, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I saw something I can’t explain, Aunt Z, and I need you to tell me I’m not crazy.” She smiled and stood up on wobbly legs to walk over and hug him. She seemed frailer than he remembered and a lot thinner.
“Are they feeding you in here, Z?” He was concerned.
“Yes, a lot of pills that make me feel like I’m floating.” She sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. “Tell me what you saw, honey.”
He explained how he and his girlfriend were in the woods when she had shifted in front of him. When he got to the part about the bullets being fired at them her eyes got a little wider. She sat thoughtful for a while after he finished telling her what he’d seen.
“So you know the story of my son being taken from me, don’t you, Brent?”
“Sort of.” He’d only ever heard the version watered down by his dad.
“Samuel was eight and I was lonely. His father had left us long before and I’d started to become addicted to black magic. There was a group of wizards in town that met and started to practice magic that was a lot less wholesome than what we’d been used to. I ended up owing the leader—I guess you could call it a cult—a lot of money. When you’re addicted to any type of drug, be it supernatural or not, then you make promises you can’t keep. The dark magic was just like that to me, a drug. She had found a way to charge the people who gathered around her to siphon some of her dark power.”
“So they took Samuel instead of the money you owed them.”
“She did. She took him and made him her own. Her husband was a wolf shifter. He simply held me down with his massive claws and I couldn’t do anything. I was starved for the magic they wouldn’t give me. My white magic was still there, but it was fading because I’d poisoned it with the dark magic. She was strong, Sarmia, I couldn’t fight her.”
“A female wizard?”
“All magic wielders are wizards,” she replied.
“You’re a wizard, or at least that’s what Dad said you told him.”
She sighed loudly and looked ashamed. “I was a wizard. The drugs they keep me on in here keep it completely dormant. I can’t do a tiny spell until they wear off. Sarmia knew if I went to anyone claiming she took my son she would just wave her hand and they wouldn’t believe me, ever.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s hard to explain. Dark magic is used to control people, to make them do what you want, and to hurt people. Sarmia had the dark magic down to a science. She knew how to get whatever she wanted. Your father never believed in our family’s magic legacy. He simply dismissed what I said and then put me in here.”
“He’s magic too?”
“Maybe, he was too stubborn to see if he was or not. Our mother was a powerful wizard, so I know he probably could be too. You could be too. It doesn’t just show up in females, you know.” She smiled and Brent shook his head. It was too much to take in.
“So, what I saw, she’s a wizard.” He was having a hard time believing Chloe was a wizard. Had he been one when they were kids he wouldn’t have been able to keep it to himself. Of course, from what Zazie was telling him, he might have been one all along.
“No, it sounds like she’s a shifter. They can change, but they don’t hold any magic within them. Well, besides the magic of shifting into a freaking animal!” She cackled loudly, startling him.
“Can you change into anything?”
“No, shifters are shifters, wizards can’t change shape. They can sometimes control animals or use them to help them.”
“Okay, so there are shifters and wizards in Woodland Creek, and they keep it a secret. Why?”
“Because humans aren’t necessarily the most accepting race. I say that with love because I am mostly one.”
“All right, I still can’t tell you that I believe it. I feel like I’m being way too accepting.”
“Maybe it’s because living in Woodland Creek, you’ve always known something was different. Now, my dear nephew, it’s time for you to check me out of this institution.”
“Wait, what?” Zazie started to gather what little possessions she had in her tiny room. “I can’t get you out of here, Aunt Z. That’s not why I came.”
“I know, but we look so much alike and they don’t know anything about my son. You simply sign me out as him and I’m free to go. I won’t bother you. I’ve got my house in town still. I just can’t be here another day with the drugs and the seclusion. I’m a curious woman, I’m clean of dark magic now, and I need to be out in the world. Please, Brent.”
“I don’t know. I feel like my father would be really angry with me if I did this.”
“We won’t tell Zandy then. He doesn’t have to know. Your father has never been the most open-minded person.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Z, I mean it. I already have enough going on with my girlfriend actually being a bird and wizards being real.”
She nodded enthusiastically and gathered the rest of her stuff. They went to the front desk and although he felt guilty about it he told them he was Samuel and ready to take on the great responsibility of his mother.
“All right,” the nurse behind the desk said.
“That’s it?” Brent figured there would be some kind of struggle or paperwork involved. “Nothing to sign?”
“Nope.” The nurse was done with them and Zazie was pulling him toward the door.
Brent had a feeling his aunt wasn’t just going to go home and stay out of his hair like she’d promised. By the time he’d started to regret signing her out they were already in the truck.
Chloe raced into work just a little late. After leaving her parents, she’d sat in the house feeling sorry for herself for a long time. It was going to be difficult to face Brent.
She wasn’t sure where her boss was, but there were already customers and she needed to clock in and grab her bank before she could work.
He came out behind her and poked her in the side. “Hey, Chloe, you’re late.”
“I know, Ash, I’m so sorry. I’ll get right to work.” She nodded and started counting her bank.
“It’s okay. I took care of our lovely regulars over there.” Mr. Lail was a seventy-two-year-old man who came in every day to drink from morning to dinner time and waved from his usual booth. Mr. Agnes was a seventy-six-year-old man who came in to drink from morning to around four o’clock and he tipped an imaginary hat at her. They never sat together, but would yell across the room at each other if they thought of something important.
The only other table in the Barcade was a family. It wasn’t quite eleven yet, so she assumed they were waiting on lunch and brought their two small boys in to play on the games so they could have some peace. Tired parents sipped coffee and the kids ran around, putting in quarters and winning tickets.
“Just keep an eye on them. I have some errands to run around one, so I
’ll be here to help until then. Your shift is only until two, so it won’t be too bad,” Ash said and headed back to check on the kitchen staff.
Ash Manning was a kind guy who’d given her the job even though he had enough waitresses. As the owner of the Barcade, he was well-known in Woodland Creek as an eligible bachelor, but he never seemed to be interested in any of the women throwing themselves at him. He was very handsome, but Brent was the only guy she had eyes for.
The Barcade had lots of Arcade games, including old school favorites like the original Pac Man. There were air hockey and pool tables, a dunking booth, and so many things to do. Outside there was a climbing wall and go-karts. They stayed busy at all times, so the tips were good.
She went about her business, making sure everyone was taken care of. The shift went by fast as it got busy and her co-workers both called in sick, meaning she and Ash were the only ones helping with the games, waiting tables, and trading in tickets. Ash left around one and still hadn’t come back when it was time for her to get off work. The next waitress hadn’t showed up yet either.
She was one of Layla’s druggie friends, so she wasn’t really reliable. Layla had been trying to get clean lately and Chloe had been so proud of her. She was really making progress. Deidra, the waitress who was late, had not gotten clean, but Ash was too nice to fire her. He would end up doing the work for her until she showed up.
Layla and Chloe had plans to go shopping that afternoon and she thought it was strange she hadn’t texted her yet. She hoped there wasn’t a relapse that had her sleeping on the floor of someone’s hotel room. That had happened a couple of times.
Brent came in and she completely forgot about all of that. It was time to face the music and see how he was handling the fact that his girlfriend was a bird. He walked over to her while she was cleaning a table and having a hard time getting the ketchup off that had already started to harden. She sat down to work on it while he approached, not making eye contact.
“Hi, Chloe.”
“Hi, Brent.”
Their eyes met and an awkward moment passed between them. It was like they were strangers. She wanted to break the silence after a minute. “So, it’s nice day, right?”
“Chloe, you have to understand...seeing something like that after getting shot at...I should have made sure you were okay before now, I just didn’t really know where you’d gone.” He was talking to her differently, almost like he was scared of her.
“I get it,” she said, working really hard on cleaning the same spot. “I’m a freak.”
“No, I—” he started, but something caught his eye toward the front and he stopped. She followed his eyes to an older woman walking in the door. She wore a long, red dress and had braided red feathers into her hair. Her makeup was done prettily with a bright eye shadow. She was a very pretty and eccentric looking older lady.
“May I help you, ma’am?” She smiled. “Would you like something to eat?” Deidra had snuck in and was standing behind the bar like she’d been there the whole time. At least she’d be able to leave on time since Ash still hadn’t returned.
“I want a drink, a strong one, little lady,” she said. “I’ve been in the nut house and I haven’t been able to put alcohol into my system.” She walked over to Brent and put her arm around him. “Did my nephew tell you he’s probably a wizard?”
“Aunt Z.” Brent jumped and raised his voice. “Why don’t you go over there and get a drink? I’ll join you soon. I was just trying to have a moment with Chloe here.”
“Ah,” the older woman grinned at her, “the little bird.”
Chloe’s eyes grew wild and then she looked at Brent in disbelief. He’d found out the biggest secret about her and immediately told this woman. That wasn’t okay with her.
“Okay, I need to explain Z to you before you get mad at me. I know you feel like I have been talking about you, but I needed someone to talk to who wouldn’t think I was crazy. We’re still friends, Chloe, it’s just a lot for me to take in.”
“Friends.” Chloe couldn’t believe he’d said that. Yes, they were friends, but they’d just started dating, so the word had a hurtful meaning.
“I mean—” he started, but Chloe’s phone rang and she held up her hand.
“It’s my best friend, Brent, I have to take this. Hello, Layla. Where are you, girl? We’re supposed to be on the road soon.”
“Chloe, it’s not Layla, it’s Connie. Layla went for a run this morning and she didn’t come home. I know it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I think she’s using again. She was acting really weird last night and now I just don’t know what to think. I have a bad feeling.”
“Okay, Connie, where did she go running?” Layla’s shifter was a doe, and when she was feeling stressed she would change and sprint through the woods. Brent didn’t know his two best friends were shifters, but he would find out soon enough, she figured. The word friend stung her as she thought it, but she pushed aside her hurt and focused on finding Layla.
“Behind where your parents used to live. She likes that stretch of woods for some reason.” Chloe’s heart sped up. She was running where they’d been shot at. Could it be?
“Okay, Connie, I’ll find her and then I’ll let you know where she is.” She hung up quickly and looked at Brent. Her stomach churned. She had a bad feeling too.
“Brent, Layla went running this morning in the woods where we were yesterday.”
“She saw that crazy gun guy?” he asked.
“Brent, she didn’t come home and there’s something you should know about her to understand why I’m concerned.”
“Oh man, Chloe, are you going to tell me she’s a badger or something?” He laughed at his own horrible joke.
“No, she’s a deer, and someone was shooting in the woods.”
His eyes widened and he realized what she was saying, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go.”
“I’m coming too.” Aunt Z was right behind them and she put a hand on Brent’s arm.
“Z, I thought you were staying out of my hair,” Brent said as he pulled Chloe to the door. Her legs would barely work. She was terrified something bad had happened to Layla.
“She can come, Brent, we have to go.” They all piled into Brent’s truck and took off toward the woods on the other side of town. Chloe hoped she was wrong, that Layla was just on drugs and lost track of time. She would deal with being angry with her when she found her safe.
The gentleman looked down at the body of the woman who lay at his feet. The bird had changed and dodged the bullets easily the day before, but the deer hadn’t been so lucky. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair spread out on the ground. She’d recently dyed the tips purple and her eyeliner and lipstick were both dark. The bullet had gone straight through her heart. He was an excellent shot. She’d gone for a morning run through the woods in the same place her best friend had escaped him the afternoon before. It was an unfortunate accident. The fog rolling in through the trees was a part of his plan to buy some time so he could get far away from the scene of the crime. He’d come back after she’d been lying there for around five hours so rigor had set in. At least he’d smartly put her the way he wanted before he ran out of the woods.
She’d seen him, so she had to die. It was that simple. It still felt a little wrong leaving her there. He’d arranged the body carefully so it looked ladylike and proper. She would have called her mother if she was going to be late, he thought. They would be looking for her soon.
As if hearing his thoughts, he heard the nuthatch’s high pitched voice as she spoke to the boy. They would come back where they had so narrowly escaped the day before?
Pulling the magic within him around his body, he pushed it out to mirror the forest. He moved away quickly, running so they wouldn’t see him. The reflection he created could be moved through, but it was an illusion. It would take the search party longer to find the body and he would be long gone. He laughed at himself and his clever magical ways.
&n
bsp; He mourned having to kill. Mourned was the wrong word because he reveled in the sorrow of others. He truly enjoyed watching the shifters suffer when he took one of them away from the world. It wasn’t his ultimate goal, however. His ultimate goal was to see the world turn on them and get rid of them for him. Exposure and humiliation would be so much sweeter. He’d discovered quite by accident that the shifters were motivated into changing quickly by fear. Some, like the sweet little nuthatch, couldn’t control it when they were frightened, which gave him the perfect way to expose them.
“Perhaps I’m a bit bipolar,” he said to a tree as he passed by it. “You try having insane parents.” The tree unsurprisingly didn’t respond, but he felt its judgment.
It wasn’t something he wanted to do. It was something he had to do. The cause he lived for was bigger than his regrets, bigger than his momentary hesitation before he killed someone. Fear drove the creatures from their bodies, and sometimes he went too far or made a miscalculation that resulted in one dying. This was the first who would be noticed. She had a family and friends. She would have people missing her and there was no turning back now. He put more distance between him and the body, careful not to move inside his own illusion and get turned around.
Ducking in between trees and around logs, he sensed them nearby. It’s the bird, the little bird and the boy she exposed herself to, he thought. It would be fun to stick around and see her find her friend. Fun and heart-wrenching. Laughing loudly, he had to clamp a gloved hand across his mouth before they heard him. He knew it would be a while before they could find her because of the obstacles, but now he truly wanted to see what was going on.
It was time to get a bird’s eye view. He grinned while he was looking around for a big stick. He swung it at a passing bee and missed, cursing. Well, he was a wizard, not a baseball player. Taking the stick, he drew a pentagram on the ground and stood in between two points. With the tip he drew a line in the dirt and put a slight v toward the end of the line and a line from the top of it that represented the beak of the crow. All it would take to summon his black feathered friend was a spell spoken and he could see the bird and her friend stumbling around, looking for the doe.