Grey October (East Hollow Chronicles)

by Charlotte Munro

  I feel the eyes of the three Goth guys upon us, well, mostly Madison. And she smiles to herself, a pretty little pout, she turns to me.

  ‘When you find out one day, what it’s like to be wanted, you will thank me.’

  ‘Why would I thank you?’

  ‘Because you have my genes.’ She tilts her head slightly up, in a superior way and points out her perfectly chiselled chin. I smile to myself, pulling my cardigan closer as the wind whips though once more, taking that headline of the suicide and throwing it onto the tracks.

  I look down, the fog is so thick now I cannot see the oncoming train, but I can hear the whir of electricity through the tracks, I hear them rumble and strain. Then I see the piercing lights penetrate through the fog.

  ‘This is the passer through.’ I say, idly, knowing without looking that Madi is filing a nail, looking down and filing it some more, not even listening to me. I shake my head ever so slightly, looking up at the clock. The train is late by a few minutes. A hazy breath clouds my face, just as I see the flash of green and white whip by, followed then by pink, and then torrents of brown.

  I turn to my side, Madison is not there, I reach forward, just in time to claw out at her scarf, but she is gone beneath the train. I scream, and somewhere in the empty space I lean down, extending a claw like hand to reach out for her. I am pulled away abruptly, pulled back into a restraint of someone, their words are soft, warm, and I see a quick blur of black as they let me go and I rush back to the platform, only to see the fluorescent men picking at Madi’s coat, her bloody remains.

  My sister. My twin. My other half. She is gone.

  Evander –

  I have torn the room apart, pulled out the drawers, rifled through every bit of paperwork and scanned every little note of paper and every tucked away scroll. Nothing. No sign of a will, no sign of a letter saying anything to that effect. Nothing. So I return to Hell. Thinking at the very last minute as I sit on my heels and look up at the decorative portraits on the walls of Beaumont’s, that I know exactly where it could be. I stare at one in particular, a painting of a man resting on a bed, beside him a night table, there, right there, that’s where his will is.

  I’ve never flown as fast and as swift before; my wings leave a little trail of black down as I finally reach Hells gate and make my way down to the castle. As I set foot into the boundary of the noble circle, I am met with many apologies and condolences. A demon always says what they don’t feel. Oh, I am sorry about your father, he was a good demon, a great king. You didn’t care for him, you spineless piece of scum, you wanted him and me out of your way so you could have a chance. I say nothing and barge past them, running up the steps to the entrance I dodge past a few servants, a few dukes and marquis. They call back to me, saying that they will see me at the ceremony in a few days, they hope I am ready. No. no I’m not ready, I’m not ready for any of this.

  I don’t even know what I’m doing.

  I bundle through my bedroom door, not bothering to close it, I know what I’m looking for and make a grab for the envelope on the side table, bringing it to my face I scan the address, the handwriting matches Charlie’s, he wrote this envelope, it wasn’t a receipt, it wasn’t a bill…

  ‘It’s the will.’ My fingers grip the thick cream paper; a gold seal of authenticity at the top depicts exactly what I have in my hand. Charlie’s will, all his belongings in the store, the money invested into it and Beaumont’s itself is Ellison Rose’s.

  He gave her everything. He gave her absolutely all of his wealth. My eyes skim over the handwritten paragraphs. The only thing Charles Beaumont owned was the antique store, everything inside it was his. He rented his home, he lived on bare minimum there, what a man. What a humble, kind-hearted man.

  He doesn’t deserve to be down here. He doesn’t deserve to be in the Pits; he isn’t like Madison. He is a gentle soul, the only reason he is here is because of his deal with my father.

  ‘Father.’ I murmur, gripping tighter at the sides of the paper, so much so that the blistering heat from my fingertips char the cream coloured card. I fold it again and then slide if back into the envelope, shoving it into the back of my jean pocket. I need to get out of here, I need to find Ellison, and I need to give her what she wants.

  And then… my mission is done, she can come down here and be reunited with her sister—

  No. no she can’t. Charlie’s down here, I can’t let her come down here. And… and I don’t even need her anymore. My father’s throne is mine, I don’t have to do anything… she is free. She is free.

  I pull back the curtains that adorn the doorframe to the balcony, with swift and noiseless steps I push the door open, revealing the iron pillars holding up the balcony, each decorated with insignia and curse spells, etched into the metal the ever staring eyes of Satan and his horns. I place both hands upon them, feeling the cool metal against the hot air, against my feverish palm. This whole place is alive, the castle, the metals. All powered by the souls of those who have bargained a great price in their life. I feel it throb, like with all the jewellery made in Hell, it pulses with a soul inside, and it rages with life, it glows with the warmth of what would have once been a human heart.

  I lean into the barrier, fingers gripping the iron railings with a newfound strength. I have beaten the witch. I have foiled the plans that were conjured within her glass orb, I am myself, I am Evander, and soon to be Great King of Hell, and I have foiled that bony old witch.

  I have won.

  Staring at the districts below, the Torture Pits, the burning pyres, the bazaar of bizarre, I close my eyes for a moment.

  Have I really won? Just what have I accomplished, really? These walls I have been trying to get out of, they seem even more like prison bars each second I stand here. Elli, I will be giving her what she wants, setting her free from the contract her sister bound her with, she will be free, but will I? She will have the store, she will have it all to herself, she will have her friends, her life and she will be happy.

  Then why do I feel a darkness creep inside of my chest, a hurt tugging within my heartless body; can it be the black organ that sits motionless inside? I feel it ache, I feel it pull with each thought of her, she will move on, find love, grow old, and be happy.

  There, there it is, the feeling of being forgotten, of being discarded.

  I have known all along how she had felt, I had seen it that very day in East Hollow over a year ago. I had watched Madison preen and pout, her eyes fluttering in Kaiser’s direction. A tease, a harlot. I heard the things she had said to her sister and watched as Elli followed, always within her shadow. Maybe, maybe I was meant to do it this way, thinking back, remembering each little detail, I had meant to leave her. Take the evil and leave the good – it isn’t the Demon way, but it worked, I still have everything I want.

  Or do I?

  My thoughts run away, and I do not bear to capture them; it is like finding a moth, capturing it in your palms, only to find it dead, lifeless. That is what my dreams are, a Demon, a Prince, a King. They cannot dream of anything more than what is here, paved for them in stone, in iron. Fire, the pits of darkness and a castle of brimstone.

  The least I can do now is hand her the letter, get the medallions back from her and wish her luck, but first, first I want to pay her sister a visit, and see if I can get Charlie out of those cells. He’s paid enough, the old man, he’s paid more than enough to be given the sea. But her sister, Madi, she deserved nothing but more torture, more pain. And with me feeling like I am, I want to be the one to give it to her.

  ***

  The hot air tangles with my shirt, I’ve rolled the sleeves, ripped them apart, pulled them up to my shoulders; I feel obscenely warm, every fiery blast of hell’s furnace, fills me with more and more coal, and inside I am burning.

  Every step I take, brings back a memory of my father, brings back memories of being trapped inside these burning walls. As every thought passes me by, I realise that each one is telling me so
mething I should know, that I am holding back. I am envious of Ellison. Envious of her life without walls, envious of her ability to be completely unaware. Even when severed from the binds of her sister, she remains loyal and kind-hearted. Visiting her gravesite, always thinking of her, never once trying to move on, to let go. I think if the roles were reversed and it was Ellison down here, Madison would not even batter an eyelid. And to think, sweet, naïve Elli thought her sister loved her, thought that they were each other’s halves.

  She couldn’t be more wrong.

  I think I helped her. Showing her that she can be herself, that she has her own dreams. If only, if only she knew what she had done for me. For the short while of getting closer to her, of trying to find what makes her tick, what makes her happy, I have found what it is like to care. Foolish really, a demon, thinking he can care, thinking he can love – even Charlie had seen it. The way I look at her, I want nothing more than for her to be happy. Living in someone’s shadow and being let go without knowing it, it is quite hard, but watching her try, watching as the smiles grew broader and more often, I realise, that when I look at her, I don’t see a soul to take, I see a heart, a heart to steal, a heart to hold.

  For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo – star-crossed lovers, doomed to the very end.

  I kick a shard of skull with my foot, watching it skitter and hit a few rib bones, eyes stay fixed upon them, and in the haze of salty clouds and smoke, I see two figures, I hear raised voices. Focusing upon them instead of what’s on the floor, I can see who they are.

  Kaiser’s hair looks white as the flames roar behind him, his silver eyes pupil-less almost, he is shouting, shoving his hands into Alpheus, who is just standing there, arms by his side, fingers outstretched, weak and numb. Still staring at them, my pace quickens and I am by their side in what would have been a human heartbeat – something is in-between them, curled on the floor a bundle of material, dust covered and red from the haze of Hell. Junk. Clothes.

  What are they doing so far out from the castle?

  Kaiser sees me first because Alphie has moved, his back now towards me, I see he is slightly wet, damp, the hood of his jacket frayed and mussed. I stride over the last few steps, to have Kai shoot backwards, raising his hands in defence, mouth wide, eyes even wider, I’ve never seen him so shaken.

  ‘I told him! I told him that she was your responsibility!’ his voice quivers just as much as the flames behind him, wavering and flickering, he adds, ‘Evan, dude, I really did!’

  I shake my head, turning from Kaiser to Alphie, he does not lift his head, and his eyes remain fixed upon the bundle of clothes, all mucky and discarded.

  What’s happened? What does he mean?

  I want to shake Alphie’s shoulders, I want to slap some sense into him, and I want to pull Kaiser back, knock his retreating form to the floor and demand to know what is fucking wrong with them! But I lose my voice, I lose my vision, I lose everything. I stare down, between the flickers of flame and the shadows that dance and loom around us, I see that the pile on the floor has fingers, has hair, has a face.

  ‘What in Satan’s name are you doing?’ I find my voice, it comes out as a roar and without thinking my hands reach for Alphie, pulling at his neck, clawing at his clothes, ripping his damp jacket, pulling off buttons as I throw him aside and peel my gaze from him to stare at the broken body on the floor.

  ‘I told him—‘ Kaiser yells, he hasn’t quite run off yet, but I can see in the way he prances, the way he rakes his fingers through his hair, that he is torn, torn from retreating or staying. At the moment he stays, his words cut off by my own as I demand, as I seethe, feeling my face crack, my appearance darkening.

  ‘What is she doing here?’ I feel the harshness of my rings bite into my palm, Baphomet’s head leaving indentations within my skin as I ball my hands into fists by my side, refusing to bow down, continuing to confirm my suspicions. Kaiser acting like he is and Alphie’s silence confirms that already.

  The bundle on the floor, her chocolate hair, knotted and mucky with brimstone and red clay. She still looks as innocent, as beautiful as she does upon earth.

  I stalk towards Alpheus, who finally meets my eyes; as I stare into his, I see a whole new flame dance within the caverns of his eyes. I see a passion, a hatred, a glowing fire that burns brighter than ever. He did this. He planned this… I can see it written in the frown lines on his wrinkled brow.

  ‘What did you do?’ I growl, slamming my teeth together. Every second that goes by, I feel another part of my appearance falter. My flawless skin cracking, my teeth turning into fangs, my blue eyes, widening into full moons. The pain in my skull excruciating, as I feel my horns starting to pierce my scalp. It won’t take long before the anger takes hold of the spell and diminishes it; and my human form will reveal my true self. The true Evander, Great Prince, soon to be Great King. A real Demon.

  ‘You don’t need her anymore, Evan. You have your kingship – abandon this mission, leave her for us underlings to take care of.’ Alphie’s dark hair wavers by his face, the longer strands covering the true intentions in his eyes. But his toothy smile, broad and sickeningly charming, tells me everything I need to know.

  ‘What is she doing here, Alphie?’ I ask again, feeling Kaiser’s shadow loom up behind me. I keep a sideward eye on him, but he does not betray me, not like Alpheus. He stands by my side, but still as fidgety and unnerved as an animal that knows its end is near.

  ‘She wanted you—‘ Kaiser is cut off by Alphie ramming into him, knocking the burly monster to the floor with a simple clout. He reels, pushing himself up like a fallen turtle, but with more oomph. My fists collide into Alphie and I end up on top of him, pinning him to the floor, both hands wrenching at his shoulders to keep him down.

  ‘Tell me, Alphie, Tell me.’ I growl, my fangs now biting into my lips, my horns piercing through my scalp, the pain is almost unbearable, but hurts far less than betrayal.

  ‘She wanted to see her sister again – I gladly obliged.’ Alphie chokes at me, staring up and meeting my eyes with his. I see sparks of familiarity. Himself, not the jealous fool that has taken over. Not a demon who has let his emotions best him; just like I have.

  ‘She didn’t fair too well on the trip down here. Mortals never do.’ he adds, I see the truth in his eyes, the lies wanting to spill from his lips, but I can see through his fabrications.

  I feel arms wrap around my chest, pulling me back and off of Alpheus. I feel burly arms like steel hold me in place, fingers digging into my chest. His voice is low, a warning, and a promise.

  ‘He’s told her, Evan. He’s told her what we are. He’s told her what her sister had done.’

  ‘I was lenient, Evan, I called her payment, I said she was the last cheque to clear. I didn’t tell her it was you that had killed her and sentenced her to this Hellish nightmare – I’ll leave that to you.’ Alphie pulls himself to his feet, kneeling, holding his chest where my hands have bitten and razored his skin, through his clothes; I look down and stretch out my fingers, my fingernails are tough, like talons. The metamorphosis is nearly done. I need to stop. I need to calm down, but I can’t, I look at Ellison on the floor, her chest rising and falling so slowly, almost not at all, and I feel all my emotions rampage against me, continuing the change.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ my fangs draw blood now, leaving holes in my bottom and top lip as I growl, slamming my teeth shut as I flail against Kaiser’s grip, wanting to launch myself back at Alpheus and tear out his throat and rip out his guts. Wait till he stirs and do it all again – the fun of being immortal.

  ‘It’s wrong Evan.’ Alphie says, his voice now calm, normal – I see his change has stopped, the burning fires in his eyes have dimmed, now black oblivion once more.

  ‘You should have just taken her when you had the chance.’ This time Kai urges me, his grip loosening and letting me go. He had felt me loosen my fight. I do not shove his decision in his face, I step forwar
d, in between the two of them and Ellison, and I listen.

  ‘This has proved an expensive boredom breaker, Evan.’ Alphie starts, I meet his eyes with a glare of my own, but I stay completely still, hearing him out, seeing just why he would betray me, we were brothers, we were all Great Princes together, we are friends.

  ‘You knew what she wanted all along, Evan. She wanted her sister. You should have listened, you should have just shown her; how easy would it have been then. No problems, no issues. At least we wouldn’t have you getting involved with her like you have.’

  ‘Getting involved in an emotional level… Evan, dude… what were you thinking?’ Kaiser talks, his voice, it sounds so far away and distant. So soft and low. I understand them both, I really do, and I know I am wrong, I know, I feel it tear inside of me. A big gaping hole.

  ‘I…’ I feel my outer skin returning, I feel my face mending; the skin knitting back together and closing the holes that gape from my cheeks, from my chin and forehead. My teeth revert back into my gums, and my horns retreat to my skull. When I kneel beside her, hands moving underneath her to lift her up, scooping her close to my chest, I am normal. As normal as I can ever be.

  I stare at her face, as I move her upwards with me, her hair rolls from her cheek, exposing her closed eyes, her plump lips. I can see from the rawness beneath her eyes and their sunken appearance that she has been crying. I turn away from the pair of demons, I hear the bones skitter beneath their feet as they move forward and I stop.

  ‘Let me tell her, let me show her Madison. But…’

  ‘But?’ Kaiser asks, his voice no longer soft and faraway, but hard and unyielding.

  ‘She’ll go back… she won’t remember a thing about this.’ I say, still staring down at her quiet face, wanting so much to brush the hair from her eyes and kiss her forehead, but I don’t. I can’t.

  ‘Wipe her mind?’ Alphie asks, his voice is his usual tone, a quiet simper behind a low baritone.