a mix of all things that make me happy

But the kids made it a rite of passage. Cross the bridge and come back. Some of the more daring kids would stick their arm over the edge to taunt the troll into grabbing them.

I was the only kid who hadn't done it yet. Darren was the one who practically dragged me there on that boiling summer afternoon. I felt like I was about to be baked alive, the back of my neck already felt stiff and tender with a sunburn. He gave me a shove and I nearly fell on my face.

I swallowed. “I’ll do it, I'll do it!”

Darren nodded and crossed his arms, everyone's eyes on me as I stood at the troll bridge.

Just there and back, I told myself, and maybe they'll finally leave me alone.

My intent was to leg it as fast as I could. Like ripping off a band aid, the trick was to do it quickly. First pass I did just that. I reached the end before I knew it, turning around and throwing my hands in the air. I did get a few cheers but Darren was less than impressed, just staring me down as I began the return journey.

I came to a stop when I heard music.

My mom was making me take violin lessons at the time and it had become habit to listen carefully if I heard it playing on her CD player or if there was a busker at the local farmer's market. But this wasn't a CD or an amateur. This music sounded almost ethereal with how perfect it was. And much to my shock, it was coming from right under my feet.

Forgetting about my friends waiting for me at the other side, I walked to the side and stuck my head over the edge. I heard their startled gasps as I teetered a bit, trying to get a look at the musician making that delightful sound.

On first glance I thought they were a woman, their nearly white blond hair was so long it almost reached to their thighs and they were startlingly beautiful. They weren't wearing a shirt though and they were absolutely a dude. They didn't have shoes and only wore mud spattered jeans. Their violin was pristine, the brown wood shining as the bow hummed across the strings. The man sat near a puddle, eyes closed as he continued to play.

“Ryan, what are you doing!? We get it already, let's go!”

Darren's irritated voice shook me from my daze and I stood back up, sheepishly walking back to my friends. Somehow the few feet of difference made it impossible to hear the violinist. It didn't matter though, everyone was cheering me on and clapping my back. Even Darren looked upon me approvingly, a rare occasion indeed. The sound of an ice cream truck in the distance caught our attention and ten minutes later we were all enjoying a delicious frozen treat and all talk of the bridge was forgotten.

But I didn't forget the violinist. And I couldn't forget how perfect his music was.

The next day was supposed to be my lesson, but Mr. Birk had come down with the flu so I was free to do what I wished with my time.

So I chose to go back to the troll bridge. Alone.

I was lucky I didn't break my neck sliding down the bank, even more so that I didn't accidentally drop my violin case. My mom would've blown her top if I'd broken the damn thing.

My perilous journey had not been in vain, as the moment my feet touched the ground I heard the music. I looked up and there he was. The violinist.

He clearly knew I was there, judging by his smirk, but he paid me no mind as I walked through the empty river bed up to him. I almost reached the puddle next to where he sat when I came to a stop. I don't know why exactly I stopped, I suppose some instinct deep inside told me I should go no further. Or maybe it was common sense not to get too close to the weirdo with the long hair playing a violin under a bridge.

So instead I opened up my violin case and presented it to him. “Hey, um… I play too,” I said, my voice shaking.

The violinist's playing came to an abrupt stop and he looked up at me. My skin crawled as I stared back into his eyes. I'm not quite sure what was wrong with them, it was like the river blue color of the iris had started to bleed into the whites of his eyes, making them unnatural in appearance. “... Show me,” he said, sounding breathless in his excitement.

And so with shaky hands I managed to squawk out ‘Happy Birthday’ to this incredibly talented man. My cheeks were probably bright red when I finished. I felt ashamed that I'd performed for someone so incredibly talented.

The violinist was quiet for a moment before raising his hands to clap. “Bravo, bravo! It's been so long that I've had someone play for me, it's a real treat. Would you like me to show you some things?” He said.

I couldn't nod any more vigorously and he laughed, picking up his own violin and starting to play.

I was there until the sun was going down. My fingers were cramping and my arms ached but I was learning so much. I only realized so much time had gone on by when I looked up and saw the sky was turning orange. “Crap! My mom's gonna kill me, I'm late for dinner!” I hurried to pack away my violin. “Sorry for taking up so much of your time, can I come back next week?” I'd been having so much fun that I never even bothered to ask his name.

“I'm afraid, my little friend, that next week you should stay as far away from my bridge as you can.”

The man was now beside me, tilting up my chin as he shook his head. His eyes seemed to be an even deeper blue now that it was starting to get dark. “You're just lucky you did everything right, not knowing who you come to. But it's going to rain next week, and it will rain heavily. So keep your distance, because next time your luck will not save you,” He said.

The heat of the day didn't take away from the chill that shot down my spine. I only nodded wordlessly before bolting, clambering out of the river bed and scraping my arms up something good before I ran home. As predicted my mom was about to send out the dogs for me and I was just lucky she didn't send me to bed with no supper.

I'm not sure what else I expected coming from a crazy guy living under a bridge. But his weather prediction ran true. Storms and pouring rain. All week. I imagine that river bed overflowed with raging water.

My mom woke me up early on Friday morning to tell me the news. Darren and another of my friends Jacob had drowned last night.

The theory was that they’d gone down to play and one of them fell in. The other tried to help them out and ended up getting washed away as well. During the funeral all I could think about was the violinist under the bridge. Had he drowned too? They hadn’t found another body, but he could’ve just been washed away.

I didn’t make the same mistake that Darren did. I waited until the water levels went down a bit before heading back to the troll bridge. It wasn’t close to overflowing anymore, instead it was just a small stream that probably wouldn’t go above your ankles. I crossed the bridge and listened carefully. All was silent except for the sound of bubbling water for a few minutes.Then I heard the violin once more.

I ducked my head over the edge and looked down. There he was, still playing, his feet resting in the water. I felt relieved and almost called out to him when I realized he had something stashed behind him. A bright red bicycle.

Darren’s bright red bicycle.

I didn’t stick around. I took off running and never looked back. I never went back to that bridge and I never will.

As I’ve become an adult, I’ve found out two things about our little town. One, that we’ve always had an abnormally high amount of drownings for the area. It’s not uncommon to lose five or six people a year, sometimes more, usually children or women. Unusually it doesn’t even have to be a flooding season for people to die, all there needs to be is a few inches of water for a body to turn up. And two, that bridge had a name before we called it the troll bridge.

Juliette smiled meekly before opening her purse to show that only a wallet and her cellphone was inside. “I’m unarmed. You can stop looking like a deer in headlights,” she said.

Isaac swallowed. “Right. Didn’t pick you for the type to go to McDonald’s after midnight,” he said.

“I made an exception once I found out you worked here. Can we talk?”

Oh boy. Isaac sighed before he whistled. “Hey, Ed?”

Ed walked out of the back, another goddamn blunt clearly visible in his hand. “Yeah, Isaac?” He asked.

“I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in ten.”

Anyone who blinked would’ve missed Isaac’s catlike eyes flashing. Ed blinked a bit before he nodded dreamily and wandered off to the back again. With that settled, Isaac ripped his stupid goddamn hat off and slapped it on the counter. “Right, let’s head outside.”

One good thing about working with someone who was permanently stoned- it was far too easy to glamour them.

The McDonald’s parking lot was completely vacant save for Juliette’s car, which given it was a weeknight, that wasn’t overly surprising. Juliette walked over to her car and sat on the hood, patting the spot next to her. “Come on, I won’t bite,” she said.

“That’s my job.”

Nonetheless, Isaac plopped down next to Juliette. The pair sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like forever, although it was probably only a few seconds.

Isaac broke it by asking, “So, how’s your kids?”

Juliette blinked a few times in surprise. “Oh, um, they’re good. Serena accepts that you were a vampire, but she still thought- nevermind. Marley’s asked twice if you’re going to come babysit again. Cole’s, well, he’s an infant so not much changes on that front,” she said.

“Your sister’s still not back?” Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow.

Juliette shook her head. “Haven’t heard a peep. I’m retired, she’s not,” she said.

Damn. Isaac breathed out. “Then she’s, well…”

“Everyone in my immediate family is a slayer. Fifth generation and going strong,” Juliette flashed five fingers real quick, “so we know our shit.”

Again. Damn. Isaac instinctively reached for his chest. “I got lucky then,” he admitted.

“For sure. If my family knew I let a vampire who works at McDonald’s get away-”

“Hey!”

Juliette snickered. “For real though, fucking McDonald’s? Loving the hat hair, by the way.” She reached over and fluffed up Isaac’s blonde hair that was stuck to his scalp.

Isaac rolled his eyes and gently swatted her hand away, watching his strength so he didn’t accidentally snap her wrist. “Listen, I don’t know computers and I have nothing in my resume worth a damn. At least on the third shift everyone’s too stoned or shitfaced to notice if anything’s weird about me, or they don’t give a shit because they’re a freak too.”

“Just not one of the bloodsucking variety?”

“Mmm, sounds about right.”

There was another pause, interrupted by Juliette as she cleared her throat. “Listen, I’m gonna leave you be, but I need to know your breakdown.”

“Only slayers call my vampire powers a breakdown, you sound like a dork,” Isaac teased.

“Well fuck you, what do you call them then?”

“Talents. You never asked a vampire that before?”

“I’m usually too busy putting a stake through their heart.”

Fair enough. Isaac sighed as he mechanically listed them off. “Talents are strength, speed, two sheathed canines,” he demonstrated by opening his mouth and allowing his fangs to slip out, “glamouring, aversion to the sacred and to the day, traditional slay, and the need for invitation.”

Juliette nodded. “Not crazy powerful then, no shapeshifting or weather control, and you’re killable by a stake. I haven’t ran into any vampires that need invitations before though, the only ones that are still around are turned by…” Juliette trailed off before her eyes went wide. “No, wait. Were you turned by-”

“Don’t say her name!” Isaac hissed, his pupils going tight, but it was too late.

“Rose… the Red Lady of Rome.”

Isaac found himself looking around while Juliette’s jaw dropped. “I’m… damn. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. She-”

“She never asks permission to turn. I know. My dad knows another one of hers.”

Isaac twisted his mouth and turned away from Juliette. “I hate Rose. It’s not even her name, you know, it’s Valentina. Which one of my ‘siblings’ did your father meet?”

“Thomas.”

Isaac sighed. “Well, that’s good for him. Thomas is one of the good ones. Does all he can to keep Rose in check, tries to keep the ‘family’ together, for better or worse,” he said.

Juliette twirled one of her curls around her finger. “Dad doesn’t talk much about Thomas. Only that he’s one of the sources and is respected in both vampiric and slayer communities. Sounds like a great guy.”

“He’s fine, I just…”

God, this was such a stupid place to have this conversation. Talking about that woman, sitting on the hood of a car under the flickering lights of the McDonald’s golden arches, while raccoons feasted off of stale French Fries in the dumpster.

“I can’t forgive her. I won’t. I don’t care how unstable she is, she ruined my life- hell, she took my life from me.”

“You don’t have to tell me anymore, if you don’t want to,” Juliette said, her voice shockingly soft.

“I don’t give a damn.” Isaac forced himself to look back over at Juliette. “She turns people because she thinks they’re beautiful. She really thinks if she allowed me to get old, get all cracked and wrinkly, that she’s done a terrible wrong. It’s a fucked up compulsion and if I was stronger than her I probably would’ve snapped and killed her ages ago.”

Juliette cocked her head to the side. There was no judgment or pity in her eyes, only a kindness that Isaac hadn’t seen in many people, especially of late. “… How old are you?”

“One hundred and seventy-one. Born in 1850, in London. And that’s all you’re gettin’ out of me for my tragic backstory. I’m not spilling my guts in a goddamn McDonald’s parking lot.”

Juliette laughed quietly. “You’ve pretty much already done that, idiot,” she said, giving Isaac a light shove.

“Fuck, you’re right, ain’t you?” Strangely, Isaac found himself laughing too. Maybe it was the stupidity of it all, but Isaac couldn’t stop the chuckles from bubbling out.

After the chuckles died down, Isaac got back up to his feet. “Well, I gotta get back to work. Gotta pay rent this month,” he said.

Juliette got up as well. “And I gotta get home- I left Izzy to watch the kids and he has a job to get to tomorrow. Potential mad werewolf up in the park, tearing up animals and will probably move to humans soon. I just have something I want to ask.”

“Go ahead, but I’ll probably say no.”

“My dad uses Thomas as a source, a way to keep track of the pulse in the supernatural community,” Juliette stepped forward, resting her hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “I’m going to ask you to do the same, but for something specific.”

Isaac paused, wracking his brain for a moment before he realized what she had to be talking about. “You want to find out what happened to your sister?” He guessed.

Juliette nodded. “Her name’s Bianca. Yes, my parents have a bit of a Shakespeare thing going, it’s the same for all my siblings. When she dropped Cole off all she said was that she had a big job in Michigan’s upper peninsula and that she’d be back when she could… and she hasn’t contacted anyone since. Not our parents, not her boyfriend, and not me.”

“She’s probably dead,” Isaac said before he could stop himself and he cringed at his lack of grace.

Thankfully, Juliette wasn’t overly perturbed by this possibility, only nodding. “That’s the most likely ending to this story. But I need to know for sure. I love Cole, but he needs his mom. So whoever you know in your part of the world, ask. Anything will help.”

Isaac chewed the inside of his cheek before he nodded. “I mean, I’m not as well connected as Thomas, but I’ll do what I can,” he said.

Juliette sighed with relief and a smile caught briefly on her lips. “Thanks, Isaac. I’ll see you around… and who knows, maybe I’ll hit you up for babysitting again soon.”

Isaac watched as Juliette got in her car and drove off before he walked back into the McDonald’s.

Somehow, the idea of watching Juliette’s kids was the one thing keeping him perked up through the rest of his shift.

But unlike most of my other friends, I didn’t get paid minimum wage, I got paid pretty damn well. So I shut up, smiled, and let myself be pointed to the nearest pile of vomit because Billy ate his pizza too fast. I say pizza in the loosest sense of the word, but you get my point.

I figured out quickly I was the odd man out when I walked into the break room and not one person acknowledged my presence as I ate my packed lunch. I was okay with that, I mean I was the janitor. I didn’t know anyone else there, none of my friends were hired, and I hadn’t met anyone here before. I wasn’t part of the clique.

Then one day I got a damn migraine and Bunny came to my rescue.

Bunny was just what I heard people call her, she wore these pink floppy bunny ears and had her face painted with a nose and whiskers. She wore this oversized magenta onesie and always sung the birthday song for the birthday girl or boy. That’s really all I knew about her before the migraine.

I get migraines pretty frequently. And this was a bad one. I knew it was coming on by the time I clocked in, but I didn’t exactly have someone else to call in for me. I just hoped it wouldn’t be a bad one.

Yeah, it got to be a bad one after an hour of squawking children and flashing lights from the stage.

I felt like I was about to faint when Bunny popped out in front of me. “Robin? You look pale. Do you need to sit down?”

I opened my mouth to say ‘yes, I really do’ but all that came out was this pathetic gurgle. Without another word, Bunny lifted me up, put me over her shoulder and carried me off like I didn’t weigh any more than a feather.

She took me to the break room, laying me down carefully on the threadbare couch. “I’ll bring you some water, would you like some Advil too?” She asked.

I nodded and she gave me two thumbs out before skipping out of the room. She returned a few minutes later, handing me the pills. “What’s wrong, lovely?” She asked, and this was the first time I noticed her British accent.

“Migraine. Sound. Light hurts. Didn’t want to call in.” I swallowed the Advil and took slow sips of water.

Bunny nodded before getting up and mercifully dimming the lights. “Just lay back here, I won’t tell Mr. O’Brien. I’ll go bring you a blanket too,” She said, and before I could object she was gone.

I was quite embarrassed to be treated like this, but Bunny wouldn’t hear any apologies. Every half hour until the end of my shift she came in to check on me, got me more water. And feeling her gloved hand run through my hair was so genuinely soothing I almost cried.

Luckily I could drive myself home at the end of my shift. Bunny put her finger to her lips and told me it was our little secret that I rested for a ‘little while’ of my shift. Bitch, I was useless for over half of it, but Mr. O’Brien never found out.

Bunny was sweet. But Bunny and the other employees had a secret.

Like I said earlier, I didn’t know any of these other guys. Not that weird, I live in a small town but it’s not like you can know everyone. And I’m a bit of a hermit. I don’t go out except for work. But over time, I began to realize that I never saw the other employees leave.

Sure, they’d sometimes disappear for part of the day, but I never saw one leave the building. Not even to chill out back for a smoke break. I didn’t think too hard on it, it’s really easier not to think when something weird happens. I bet some of you have witnessed something that was in fact quite bizarre but just didn’t think of it that way. You made an excuse.

Course, it’s really hard to make an excuse when you walk in on your coworker literally pinning another one’s back together.

I should’ve already gone home, but there was a nasty shit explosion in the men’s bathroom and I was late. I just entered the back room to clock out when I saw Bunny and another performer called Pumpkin sitting on the couch. Pumpkin’s shirt was off and I nearly backed out, thinking I walked in on something a little private when I realized there was something very wrong with Pumpkin’s back.

Between her shoulder blades there was two deep red gashes, painfully swollen and oozing pus. She had tears in her eyes and I realized Bunny was holding silver pins in her fingers. A few pins were already in Pumpkin’s skin, forcefully keeping the skin together like a quilt my grandma would work on.

I dropped my water bottle, startling both women and Pumpkin yelping quietly as one of the pins slipped out. “Fuck, B… Bunny, it hurts so much,” She gasped.

Bunny set down the pins. “I can explain!” She said.

“I hope you can,” I hurried over to Pumpkin’s side to examine the wounds, “Jesus Christ, she needs a doctor!”

You might as well suggested I take Pumpkin out back and shoot her in the head with their expressions. I raised my hands in the air. “Or not! What do I know? Those wounds are infected though! She needs serious medical attention!”

“I need my wings back.”

Pumpkin sobbed quietly, holding her shirt up to cover her chest as she rocked back and forth. “I can’t do this anymore, Bunny! It hurts so much, I can’t dance like this!” She said.

Bunny rested her hand on Pumpkin’ s shoulder before looking at me. “… You’re a normal person, right, Robin?” She asked.

I nodded dumbly, wondering what the hell she could mean by that. Bunny nodded before she unzipped the back of her onesie and turned to let me have a look.

Right, I told you how Pumpkin’s back looked, right? Well Bunny’s was about a hundred times worse. Same two wounds, leaking pus and painfully swollen, only Bunny had the added bonus of having actual maggots crawling about in sores surrounded the slits. I nearly threw up as one squirming grub fell onto the ground.  

Bunny zipped herself back up before sitting down. “The best we can do is pin ourselves together. Mr. O’Brien won’t let us leave,” She said.

“Why?” I asked, shaking my head, unable to burn that horrid image from my head. “What did he do to you?”

“He took us.” Bunny wrapped her arms around herself. “He took us from our home and took away our wings. We can’t go back without them. If he suspects we’ve left… he’ll destroy them.”

“Then he still has them?”  

Bunny nodded and picked up the pins, pushing them through Pumpkin’s back to force the wounds together. “In his office. But we can’t go in there.”

I had already made up my mind by the time I walked to the door. “I’ll go then.”

Pumpkin’s eyes filled with hope but Bunny’s were filled with fear. “If he catches you, he’ll kill you,” She said.

“Hope he does,” I joked, although the joke was not taken well judging by Bunny’s horrified expression. “I’m kidding! I’ll be quick, he’ll never even know I was in there.”  

I slipped out of the backroom and headed right for the office. Whether it was luck or fate, Mr. O’Brien was out, and he never locked his door.  

I may have spitefully knocked the horseshoe off his door on the way in, I always thought that thing was stupid and really didn’t match the theme of the place, but I didn’t care. I don’t know if I’d let it sink in what Bunny and Pumpkin were, but I didn’t care.  

I found the wings stacked in the closet. Each were sealed in clear plastic, in every imaginable color and shape. I grabbed the whole stack, not sure which ones were Bunny’s or Pumpkin’s, and walked on out.

I almost was back to the break room when I heard Mr. O’Brien yell after me.

“Robin! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

I bolted into the room and locked the door behind me, throwing the plastic packaging at the girls. “He saw me! Find your wings!” I yelped as I held the door shut with my body.

Pumpkin pulled out a pair of monarch butterfly wings and crowed with joy as she stood, more bloody pins falling onto the ground. I felt Mr. O’Brien slam into the door behind me, I knew we didn’t have much time.

Bunny pulled out an incredibly large pair of pink wings and I saw her smile triumphantly before she held them to her back.

The door came off the hinges and I was thrown to the floor the same moment the room was filled with a white light.

When the light died down, Bunny was no longer in bunny ears and a onesie… and her eyes were much colder. Both her and Pumpkin stood side by side as O’Brien came into the room, going white as a sheet as he realized he was too late. “What have you done, Robin? Do you realize-”

Pumpkin crossed the floor and without so much a single moment of hesitation clawed out Mr. O’Brien’s eyes. He screamed in agony before Pumpkin tackled him to the ground, from where I was pinned under the goddamn door I could see squirts of blood coming from Mr. O’Brien’s general direction.

The door was lifted off of me and Bunny picked me up, setting me on my feet. She wasn’t short and cutesy anymore, she looked almost feral and towered almost two feet above me in height. “We’re even now, Robin,” She said as she patted my head, “I knew you’d do whatever I wanted you after I helped you with your headache. You wouldn’t like to owe a person, you’d hate owing a fae even more.”

She pressed her lips to my cheek and I was back in my bedroom.

Shit’s gone sideways here since last week. People disappearing only to reappear saying they’ve been gone for years, people who have been missing for literal decades have popped up thinking they’ve only been gone for a minute. People have bizarre Rube Goldberg machine-esque accidents that result in horrific maiming or death. Kids are gone for just a second suddenly act completely out of character, laughing at nothing and never sleeping. Nature is reclaiming any place abandoned by humans. I see people dancing down the streets, people with glowing wings and beautiful faces.

So I might’ve screwed my whole town and now we’re under attack by a bunch of fae who’ve been cooped up for fuck knows how long by a bastard who made them perform at his shitty pizzeria joint.