hellraiser

Bo kept her gaze on the stranger, pocketing the surgical mask. At the question, she remained quiet - she didn’t want the woman to know she was alone, but she didn’t really have the luxury of lying. “…I’m alone,” she answered, moving to sit down. It didn’t seem like the brunette was about to attack- even if she did, the stranger would definitely win. “I’m guessing you’re alone, too? No random people about to walk in here?”

She was tired of being on edge, and the way her opposite decided to take a seat seemed submissive enough for Ria to let her guard down. Not entirely, of course, but enough to relax a bit. “I’m alone.” Eyes dulling, the witch too, took a seat on the other side of the aisle. “How’ve you been doing?” She decided to ask, feeling sort of like a post-apocalyptic survey. On a scale of one to ten, how well would you rate your survival skills?

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Ria quickly shifted to face what turned out to be a young girl crawling out from under a pew. Dark brows lifted in surprise as she waved around a surgical mask, followed by a quiet apology. The witch let the silence rest in the air for a moment before her shoulders slunked down and her overall cautious stance relaxed. “...don’t be,” the dark haired woman casually packed her knife back up, not sensing an immediate threat from the girl before her. “You alone? Or should I get down and check under the rest of the pews?”

Bo couldn’t remember the last time she prayed. Truly prayed, not bowing her head down and shutting her eyes at fancy dinners with her parents. As she hopped up the steps of St. Timothy’s Catholic Church, a chill went down her spine. Eerily quiet. No zombies but for some reason, the distinct lack of sound made her uneasy. The doors creaked as she opened them, the girl cringing at the sound. Too loud. Her footsteps echoed when she walked, Bo taking in everything she could. Cobwebs hanging off of columns, abandoned bibles left on the floor, the last light of the day drifting through cracked stained glass. Alone. She knew the feeling. “Sad,” she whispered, stopping in the middle of the pews. She shuffled down one of them and sat down, letting out a sad sigh. At least it’d be a decent place to stay for the night, possibly a few days if she was lucky. She had enough water to last a while, thanks to a couple of filtering water bottles she had in her apartment. But food was a different story. Just as her stomach was about to rumble at the thought of eating, the sound of footsteps hopping up the steps outside caused her to freeze in place. Shit. Not the slow shuffle of a zombie, but quicker. Human, she was certain. As quietly as she could, she sunk to the ground and rolled underneath the pew, thankful for her petite size. And, as she heard the loud creak of the door, Bo found herself praying to a god she didn’t believe existed that whoever had come in wouldn’t find her, or at least be kind.

Olivia smiled as she felt Ria’s arm wrap around her, doing the same to her cousin as she shuffled up the steps. “Working actually, but I think they’ll be done soon. This has been a pretty busy year for them,” the young witch replied, opening the door. She dropped her arm around her cousin for a moment as she walked through, turning around to flash her a wide smile. “All four of us have to do something fun tonight,” she added, reaching to take Ria’s hand as she led her through the house “Momma, Auntie!” She called out excitedly. “Guess who’s haunting us todaaay?” The last word was sung out, a giggle following it.

It was lucky the witch had appeared, Marley realised. She didn’t want to ruin the surprise for her mother by not making frittatas right. When Ria suggested helping her with the recipe Marley’s face lit up and she widened her eyes. “Really? Yes please!” Manners were important, she’d been taught that a lot. “I’m not allowed near the hot things.”

“Good thing I’m here to deal with the stove then, huh?” She teased the tiny ghost, in a playful manner. Taking out the eggs and a few other ingredients from the fridge, the witch brought them to the counter. “Could you grab the salt?” She asked, spotting it on the table before she ducked down to grab a skillet out of the lower cabinet.

Eyebrows raising further at her response, Alec’s smile waned. To say he was uneasy about her admission would have been an understatement–considering what had happened the last time he had allowed himself to feel for another woman. Swallowing a small lump in his throat, he willed himself to smile once more. “A light? Are you sure about that?” 

“Through all the darkness I’ve known and come across, I know the light when I see it,” the witch cooed, her gaze soft as she studied her opposite. “That’s not to say that darkness isn’t there ---- we’ve all got it, some more than others, but not everyone has the light. Many have smothered it, crushed it, starved it until there was nothing left but that cruel, hungry darkness.” Catching herself in a deep stare, she broke the eye contact with a swift turn of her head, crystal hues then meeting the floor. “...hold onto it.”

Marley turned to face the witch, scrunching her nose for a second before nodding. “Mhm. I’m gonna make that!” She’d never heard of a frittata, maybe it was another name for cereal? She pulled out a half empty box of cocoa puffs and poured some, messily, into a bowl, before turning back to Ria. “Is this right?” She knew she needed milk, but maybe frittatas had something different, like orange juice.

A crooked smile pulled at Victoria’s features as she ghosted to the fridge. She wasn’t the worst cook ---- in fact, it was a talent she hadn’t used often, as she wasn’t much of an eater in the afterlife. “Mm, close, but I’m afraid the recipe I know calls for a few different ingredients.” Ria smiled to the child, opening the fridge. “I could show you how to make it, if you’re up for the challenge.”