Preface: Greetings, all! What follows is the second chapter of my sequel to “The Wildcat’s Sister.” the first of my modern-setting series of mostly standalone tales. The first chapter may be found here. The primary monstergirls are a manticore, a hellhound, and a demon. This story features very little lewdness, so savor the fluff and feels!
And, to conclude with a standard disclaimer: The monster girls featured in this tale, and many elements of the setting, are based off of the works of Kenkou Cross, and as such this work is intended to be a tribute to his creativity. The characters, however, are my own. Pray neither sue nor steal; I have very little to take, but I love that which is mine.
Chapter 2: Unfaire Treatment
The Ricksville Fall Festival was an event that brought in everyone, of every walk of life. Grandmothers peered at handcrafted quilts and jars of homemade preserves while children clutched their parent’s hands and gasped at the colors and the rushing sounds of the rides. Taunting hawkers baited men to impress their dates by winning stuffed animals in rigged games of chance, while lines formed at the small trailer-wheeled food stands, awaiting their delectable rarities (often deep-fried snacks of dubious conception). The stand was set up for the bands, and some dedicated souls had already staked their claims to the best seats, eager to witness fresh stars flaring to life. It was a riot of color, noise, population – ever-moving, ever-cheering, ever-mingling.
The most predominant group to make up these teeming masses, however, were the teens, who enjoyed this excursion as an extra bit of freedom with their friends – a chance to see everyone, anything, to savor independence like the overpriced funnel cakes. Young lovers strolled through the crowds, blushing as they held hands – no one noticed, or perhaps they did, but there was always more to see and so they passed without being questioned. Preening young braggarts called out to their peers, slapping palms and clapping backs as members joined or left their packs. Kids a bit too young to be trusted to drive on their own could roam here, sworn to be back at a landmark before dark, and lose themselves in the spectacle and the heady intoxication of free will, of choosing their own destinations and recreations. Others clung close to their families, many having emerged from quieter locales they otherwise rarely left just to witness this yearly tradition, the world – or at least, something interesting – coming to their doorsteps. Many of these already dreaded their return to the boredom of their typical lives in the hollows they saw every day, but tonight was the festival, and so for now anything could happen.
Yet, despite the cavorting chaos of celebration and entertainment, one young man stalked through the crowd like a chidden dog, his broad shoulders indrawn, his head lowered as if he walked into a fierce wind, though his dark hair was unruffled. He would have been handsome, were his face not wracked by a sullen scowl that had become unconsciously familiar. No voices called out to hail him, to beckon him to friends or hopeful paramours, though he was witnessed – several faces turned aside, and, lips hid from view, whispered the pejorative he had come to loathe above all else, cruelly-sparkling eyes eagerly inspecting this lordling fallen from grace. He met a few of those eyes with a stare that they once would have quailed at, but his power – social, at least – had been spent over a month ago. He was friendless and outcast… for now. He knew he would reconquer his place and his peers soon enough.
Blaine Daniels paused at the edge of the forest that fringed the campus that had been loaned to the festival. The local community college was one of the sponsors for the event, complete with recruitment booths near the entrance, and so these grounds were far more packed than typical. Blaine knew the place well enough, since it tended to be abandoned in the early evenings – a perfect kingdom for young ne’er-do-wells who enjoyed the freedom to share a smoke or dip, make use of the basketball courts, and plot a little harsh mischief. He and his friends had spent a lot of time here in the past years, especially when Ritchie McConnell had led their group – but now Ritchie had moved to, well, wherever, and most of the rest had either scattered or been snatched up by girlfriends. Blaine had enjoyed his unofficial coronation after McConnell had left, despite the suddenness of his friend’s disappearance, and had expected to reign over the high school for his senior year. However, his circumstances had… changed.
“Well, look who it is…” called a voice from amid the trees, the tones sweet and sticky like blackberry jam, and Blaine looked around in growth for a sign of the speaker. Even as familiar as that cloying, sultry moan was, his stance was no less guarded – if anything, his eyes narrowed as he braced for the abuse to come. In his world, age carried a certain solemn authority (at least for a few years above his own, after which it become a liability), and thus he had been forced to obey the whims of this girl’s fickle sadism by an accident of birth, by a handful of months and relations close enough to ensure living proximity. She was some sort of removed cousin on his mother’s side, and a bitch – a demon, quite literally.
Dela Blackburn walked out of the trees with exaggerated feminine grace, her hips rolling as if she wore stilettos instead of sandals. She wore as little clothing as possible, like usual: a halter top that exposed a dangerous amount of her blue-skinned breasts, and a skirt that advertised her thighs more than concealing them, leaving one certain at any moment the mystery of her underwear (or lack thereof) would be revealed. Her attire should have been scandalous, but her years as one of the most daring cheerleaders at their school had almost numbed her to the leering eyes seeking the more mundane, safe thrills, and so, even though she had dressed down for this event, she haughtily demanded furor and misaimed lust. Just behind her and above the line of her skirt spread her midnight-blue wings, and a spade-tipped tail swayed behind her like a prowling cat’s. Her hair, a dark violet, fell far down her back, covering more of her than the united collection of her clothes, but even it bent to her heart of controversy as she twirled a curl of it near her wine-dark lips, revealing pointed nails painted the same shade. Her arresting eyes were inverted in hue: dark sclera around an indigo iris, making her seem imbued with darkness even then, an hour before the sun would fall behind the rolling mountains. In her other hand she loosely held a jumbo-sized cup of some caffeinated concoction, which looked to be mostly foam and cream but probably had cost as much as a light meal, knowing Dela’s tastes. She idly swirled it as she stalked closer to her cousin, her eyes taunting him more than any of his former friends would have dared, even in his social exile.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Blaine replied, offering her a smile that wouldn’t have passed for genuine in complete darkness. “I figured you would be living it up at college – how’s South-East going for you? Found enough nerds to wrap around your fingers to keep from having to do your own work?”
Her smile crumpled momentarily before she could catch it in its fall, but she still stalked closer despite the effectiveness of the jab. “Things are great up there – you would love it,” she purred, walking past him to make him turn to follow her with his gaze. She circled around him, looking him over as she did, as if seeing if he had grown in the months that she had been gone. He remembered how angry she had gotten when he had finally grown taller than her, and hoped that was still a frustration. “It’s nice, meeting new people, seeing so many new faces without having to worry about everyone remembering your old mistakes…” It was his turn to scowl, and he could see that she enjoyed watching him squirm. “I bet that sounds real good to you right now, hmm, Little Lainey?” The childhood nickname brought his teeth out of his scowl into a snarl, and the stare he offered her would have sent most others scurrying away – but Dela was eternally unaffected by his anger, instead reaching out to lightly graze his arm with her wicked nails. “Take a walk with me – it’s too loud here.” She didn’t pause to see if he would follow, instead following a path back into the treeline. He paused, wanting nothing more than to go in the opposite direction, to spare himself the pain to come, but he followed in her footsteps the way he had since they were kids, leashed by her charisma and willpower once again.
His discomfort only grew as he realized where she was taking him. This path led to a small clearing not far from the main drag of the faire, where trees circled a small gap at the rear of a storage building. It was a fairly useless space, and so some guileless sage had decided to place a bench there, intending to create a quiet space for introspection or study – but young adults being who they were, it had turned into a convenient make-out spot. As a matter of fact, that was how it was being used at the moment: a squirrel-girl was sitting astride a boy, their lips pressed together and their arms tightly clutching their lover as she rocked atop him, both lost in the suggestion of privacy the removed space afforded them. They were perhaps sophomores, though Blaine didn’t recognize either of them – too young for him to acknowledge, even if they did go to Shallow Creek High. “Excuse us,” Dela demanded, stopping with her hips canted at an angle and her drink precipitously leaning to the side. When the squirrel didn’t even pause her rolling, the demon coughed. “I said-”
“Go. Away,” growled the ratatoskr, glowering venomously at the older girl for a brief moment before recapturing the boy’s lips – he was too dazed to even comment, or maybe even to realize why the kissing had momentarily stopped. Dela’s reply was a wordless gasp of outrage, her face twisted in affront that her social primacy had been forgotten in just the few short months since she had graduated, but the squirrel-girl was still too busy trying to coax the boy’s hands forwards towards her chest to even care.
Her eyes narrowing, Dela walked forward with barely-contained fury, ready to instruct this whelpling upstart on why it was a bad idea to confront her elders. She leaned down, her face close to the amorous pair’s, and watched them for a moment with a harshly-analytical gaze. After a moment, she loudly sniffed the air. “You know,” she offered with disingenuous charity, “if you’re planning to dry hump the first boy you see, you should probably go for deodorant.” The squirrel-girl opened one eye to glare flensing knives at the demon. “Oh, no, I’m sure you didn’t think you’d get this lucky – you know, I’ve heard of girls being apples or pears, but your body shape is more… garbage bag. But maybe he doesn’t mind?” It was clear from the fact he still might not have noticed Dela’s presence that he did not mind the girl’s shape at all – that, and the fact his hands were firmly attached to the squirrel’s rear. “But you might want to move – if you cut off the blood flow to his legs for much longer, the damage could be permanent.”
With a snarl, the ratatoskr pulled her face away from her lover’s. “Come on, Kendall,” she growled, her face jutting towards Dela’s wrathfully. “This old hag needs somewhere to sit down before her own legs give out. She needs the bench more than us, judging from the wrinkles around her eyes.” She grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled, and he straightened – mostly, hunching over a bit and turning away from Dela and Blaine as he blushingly allowed himself to be tugged in the direction of the crowds beyond the trees. Blaine watched the squirrel-girl with something akin to admiration as Dela gaped in horrified outrage at the insults, before rallying to lob her own final shots.
“Please use protection!” she shouted at the retreating lovers, sneering at the middle finger the squirrel raised over her shoulder. “We’re full up on ugly people!” Huffing and crossing her arms before her chest, the demon turned away from Blaine for a moment to recollect herself, and then whirled on him sharply. “Do you see?” she demanded of him, as if this vitriolic exchange had somehow been his fault, “This is what happens when you don’t have people keeping the trash in line. They get uppity.” She plopped down onto the recently-vacated bench, crossing one leg over the other in an indelicate display that answered one previous mystery – yes, dark-colored and lacy – before opening her eyes to sneer at Blaine. “It should have been your job, but you went and let Patty Hall’s chubby little dork of a sister humiliate you, didn’t you?” And anything Blaine had that resembled a good mood – and the last vestiges of a hold on his simmering anger – flashed into nothingness.
“I’m surprised that having a life up at college hasn’t kept you out of the gossip back here,” he said, still composed enough to layer a veneer of false politeness over the gleaming razor edge of his words, which included the silent suggestion that it should have been enough, and she should keep her nose in her own business.
Dela smirked at him, leaning back on the bench as she raised the straw of her drink towards her lips. “Oh, I wish,” she told him, smiling even though her dark eyes were wrathful, “But Patty and those self-righteous bitches in the O3 sorority have had plenty of fun dropping your new nickname just where I will overhear.” However tenuous their consanguinity might be, Dela was just as adept at hiding her anger as he was, which was to say he could see the shudder pass through her as she named her rivals up at South-East, and see her face twist into a mask of spite. She glared hatefully into the darkness as if she would choke them from where she sat, if she could only concentrate hard enough.
Blaine, however, had tensed solid, praying that Dela would have the good sense not to actually speak the loathsome nickname in question. He rushed to press on, fighting to steer the topic away from its current course. “If it wasn’t me they were bothering you about, it would be something else,” he suggested.
“Oh, it’s everything,” Dela sighed bitterly, taking a deep draw from her straw. Her face winced at the flavor, and he watched her reach into her cleavage – the only pocket possible in her current attire – and draw out a couple of thin strips of plastic. Tearing off the ends, she dumped the powder contained within into her frothy drink, stirring it with her straw. A second sip seemed more to her liking, and he shook his head at her indulgence.
“Isn’t that synth-mana stuff just going to make you fat?” he asked, hoping she would chase after the taunt. Instead, she mutely raised her middle finger at him as she drank deeply.
“So, tell me…” she finally returned to her topic, “Are you just going to let things keep going like this? With everyone knowing that some little pipsqueak and his nerdy little bat-winged slut humiliated you in front of all the other boys?” Her smile grew in proportion with his snarl, and with a languid wave of her eyelashes she twisted the knife firmly. “Are you happy with everyone calling you ‘Cum-stain Blaine’?”
The nickname was enough to cause his fury to erupt. “You know I hate being called that!” he shouted, though they had never discussed it before – the logic of his words wasn’t important to him, just the anger. That rage, however, was not having the intended effect, as Dela sat and watched him with mocking eyes, placidly sipping on her drink as he ranted. “Of course I don’t want things to stay like this! If I had a chance, I’d jump that little junior and beat the shit out of him. And I tried to get everyone to understand that what I was doing with Valerie made sense – of course I was never going to take her to the dance! – but now the basketball girls are the ones getting everyone on her side, and…” He couldn’t say the rest – that his own support had abandoned him after the day he had accidentally let it slip that he was using Valerie to try to make another girl jealous, and in return she had jabbed him deeply with one of her aphrodisiac spines in front of the others. He had reacted strongly to it, instantly nutting in his pants – hence the nickname, and the shame.
“Aww,” Dela replied, her tone like saccharine acid, “Little Lainey can’t do anything because he doesn’t have big tough boys to back him up?” His growl showed her his teeth, but even as she dropped the singsong, she didn’t let up. “I’ve seen the Carroll kid – he’s a stick, nothing like his meathead brother.” Her eyes narrowed. “But you can’t get caught fighting… right? Trouble on the basketball team?”
He looked away, burying his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t get scouted for football, so my folks are hoping I get a basketball scholarship. So yeah, I have to…” Dying unfinished, the words lost their flavor in his mouth like old gum, excuses bleached of their effectiveness, but the truth of it was what made it stick slightly: his coach had heard about what had happened from the vice principal, and had not-so-subtly warned him against getting caught fighting. It galled him, to know they were all taking the other kid’s side, but there wasn’t much he could do about it, no matter how furious it made him.
He glanced back to see Dela standing from her seat. She reached up, and he shivered as her fingers lightly caressed his cheek – but the cruel points of her nails soon scraped the same skin. “Poor thing,” she said, walking around him like a stalking panther. “It’s good that you were born pretty, cousin, because you don’t have much upstairs to offer.” He glowered at her, but her tail wrapped around his wrist, and he let it tug him to face the opposite direction, where she stood behind him. She planted her palms against his chest and grinned up at him, close enough that he could smell her perfume, sweet and musky, and she gently pushed, steering him back to plop onto the bench she had just occupied. Now he was looking up at her, and she loomed down towards him, tracing her lips with her tongue. “So, instead of just using those muscles, let’s find another way of hurting them, hmm?” Her hand squeezed his bicep, and for a half-second she glanced down at it, before returning to his face. “Let’s humiliate them, and then they can be the ones dealing with the gossip instead, hmm?”
He rolled his eyes at her suggestion. This wasn’t his kind of game – Ritchie had been good at it, but he preferred to handle his issues physically whenever possible. “What the hell am I supposed to say about them? Everyone knows they’re nerds. They’re both goodie-goodies, so there’s nothing there to spread. They haven’t even been caught messing around at school yet – and everyone does eventually. So what am I-?”
Dela had turned away from him, but he could still see her roll her eyes. “Then we make something up,” she scoffed, shaking her head in disappointment. “The weirder, the better. That way people believe it quicker.” She raised her hand to her face, idly biting at the tip of the thumb opposite the nail – an old habit he recognized. “But something we can have a little proof of…” Disgusted by his shrugging shoulders, she looked further away from him. “You know… there’s always… cheating.”
Blaine raised a single eyebrow. “But I thought monster girls never cheat.”
Dela laughed. “That’s because we never do. Old instincts, from when we were made. But you always hear about it, though – someone knows someone’s third cousin’s roommate’s friend from college who slept around, or stole another monster’s husband, or something. Really, it’s more of an urban legend thing, but it weirds us out plenty, to think about someone so messed up that they could actually do it. Kind of a warning story… but it makes for a really good scandal. And if anyone was ever credibly accused of being that kind of freak, it would be social suicide…” She glanced back down at Blaine, her tail brushing up one of his arms.
“Yeah, that would be fine – and that would show the Carroll kid, too – but how do we…” His eyes widened in sudden realization. “Oh.”
Dela’s smile grew like an unsheathing claw. “Yep. We have the perfect setting. We just need to keep him occupied for a while…” She bit at her thumb again, before her smile grew even more insidious. “And I think I know just the person we can use to do that, too.” She grinned down at Blaine, and he felt a surge of excitement burning deep within him. “This is just perfect.”
And, hidden in the shadows of the trees, they continued their plotting, drinking deep of the chance to redeem themselves through the ignominy of their enemies – to avenge wounded pride through a hell of their own creation.
******
“Alright, girls,” said Kyra Collins, her simmering eyes looking into the rearview mirror to inspect her two daughters. “You know the rules. Gabbie, you have to stay with the group at all times, okay? Stay where one of your friends’ moms can see you, and no going off with strangers, okay?”
“Okay, moooommm…” whined Gabbie, squirming in her seat, eager to be free of the car now that it had stopped. The hellpup was dressed in a brand new shirt and skirt and had allowed her mom to work ribbons and bows into her pigtails, but the process of getting ready for this outing had utterly drained her already-scant stores of patience. She fidgeted as her sister reached over to help extricate her from the seat belt, looking longingly at the door handle but too aware of her mom’s burning gaze to be bold enough to reach for it.
Mattie, on the other hand, handled the situation with her usual calm, even when Kyra’s gaze turned onto her. “And Mattie, you be careful too. There’s people in from all around, and you know a bunch of boys got in trouble last year for smuggling in alcohol and getting into fights. Just keep a level head, okay?” Mattie nodded along to her mother’s unneeded advice, knowing that it would take a very drunk person indeed to mess with a hellhound – they had a fierce reputation for a reason. “Your father and I will meet you both at the carousel at ten, and you both have your money for food, right?” Both girls nodded along, Mattie sitting placidly, Gabbie staring out the windows at the glittering shapes of the rides whooshing and whirling. “Be on your best behavior – we’ll hear if you get into trouble, okay?” Mattie glanced up as, unusually, she felt her mother’s eyes on her during this rote admonition, and sure enough Kyra was staring straight at her. “Yes, mom,” both girls sighed in unison, and with a cautious nod their mother opened her car door, signaling to the younger hellhounds they too could disembark.
Mattie came around to the driver’s side of the vehicle to find her mother fussing with Gabbie’s outfit as the hellpup stared at the sky in mute dismay, enduring the worst torture imaginable with her lip pouted. “Mom, mom, do you, uh, do you think Tyler will be here?” Gabbie erupted as her mother tightened one of her bows with a keenly-analytical eye.
“Maybe he will be, dear,” Kyra suggested blandly, straightening to glance at Mattie, who had raised her eyebrow. The older hellhound leaned close enough to whisper to her teen daughter, “He’s a boy in her karate class. They had to practice together, and he accidentally made her cry.” Mattie glanced down to see her sister, face scrunched in concentration, practicing punching motions with all the ferocity of a trained warrior. “I think we’ve got a little crush.” Mattie laughed quietly at the idea and at her mother’s knowing smile, while Gabbie looked up at them both with deep suspicion, before reaching out to grab her mother’s hand.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” she demanded, and Kyra obediently complied, letting her daughter guide her towards the main gates and the people selling tickets. Mattie followed behind by a few steps, watching her sister with a warm smile. She remembered being excited like that when she was younger, and still remembered the feeling of the faire as a dazzling spectacle of lights and sounds. It was less special at her age, but still fun – she just wished that at least one of her friends had been free to go around with her. She hoped to briefly meet up with Angie and Nikki, but after the conversation at lunch the other day she was still embarrassed that she hadn’t picked up on their romantic conflict or changing situations, and it sounded like they would be somewhat busy waiting for the chance to hang out with David. The thought of the two of her closest friends being with the bulky, broad-shouldered boy with the messy black hair brought a smile to her lips; she knew David fairly well, and he had spent some time eating at their lunch table – which made more sense, now, really – and he had always been nice to her. He had even talked to her about his best friend, Jake… Her heart twinged in her chest, and despite herself she looked around, wondering if Jake would be at the faire tonight, if she might run into him. If he was, though, surely he would be with Valerie… Her tail, which had begun to beat the air, dangled limply as her perked ears drooped back against her skull. Her mother was paying for their tickets, but she glanced back at Mattie with an appraising eye, and sighed to see her daughter searching the crowd with a crestfallen expression.
As the trio of hellhounds made their way through the gates, Gabbie tugged again at her mother’s hand, emphatically pointing to the lines of food vendors. “Mom, mom, mom, I smell grilled hot dogs!” Mattie laughed as she saw her sister’s tail was frantically waving, and her ears were standing straight upright. Ironically, hot dogs were the hellpup’s favorite treat by far, especially grilled, which worked well with their father’s fondness for cooking outside. “Can I-?”
“Of course, dear,” Kyra chuckled. “That’s why I’m giving you money – so you can buy dinner. But don’t waste it all, and remember to take it a little easy: you were sick last week with a stomach bug and we had to go to the doctor, remember?” The hellpup paid her mother only a fraction of her attention, sniffing at the air eagerly enough that she was standing on her tiptoes, eyes blazing with anticipation. She whined a little when her mother reached out to smooth her hair back down, tugging at her metaphorical leash. “Just don’t stuff yourself before you do the rides, because I don’t want you getting sick on them, okay?”
“Okay, mooommm,” Gabbie whined, but then she perked back up. “Mom, mom, it’s Aggie!” Kyra followed the gaze of her waving, bouncing daughter, noticing the pair drawing towards them. Just like Gabbie, Agnes Townsend was waving, her slow-growing smile spreading across her face as she tugged at her mom’s paw. Ursula and her daughter were bear-women, decidedly tall and black-furred, and tended to amble wherever they went, so Gabbie was quick to lose her patience and sprint towards them, all but tackling her best friend, who withstood the loving assault stoically, barely wavering in the face of the smaller girl’s aggressive embrace. Kyra smiled at Ursula, walking up to chat with her and to thank her for taking Gabbie around the faire, while Mattie hung back, taking the chance to search the crowd once more.
Mattie failed to see the messy blonde hair she was seeking, but something felt off about the crowd to her. She almost felt like someone was watching her, her hair standing on end and an unconscious tenseness gripping her muscles. She searched as well for the source of that feeling, her nostrils flaring as she tested the air – there was nothing out of place that she could sense, but still…
“Alright, Mattie,” Kyra said, walking back to her elder daughter with a subtle smile, “Gabbie’s taken care of, so that just leaves you.”
Mattie shook her head. “I’m fine on my own, mom. You know that.”
“But none of your friends will be going around with you?” When her daughter shook her head, Kyra frowned, but a sharp smile tugged at the corners of her mouth a moment later. “Well, think of this as an opportunity.” Kyra gestured to the crowds as Mattie raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Faires are always special occasions; the kind of thing that’s almost magical. Anything can happen. Keep an eye out… you might find a cute boy wandering around on his own and needing company, and introduce yourself to him-”
“Mom…” Mattie replied, the faintest hint of a growl in her tone.
Sighing dramatically, Kyra shook her head. “You have to step outside your routine, Mattie. Do you think your dad just fell into my lap?” She gestured to her red dress, a bit formal and form-fitting for a night at the faire but perfect for the date she was making of it. Mattie rolled her eyes at this, well-accustomed to the stories of her parents’ romance. “I had to hunt him down, chase him… it wasn’t easy, and it took a lot of guts. I know you have that – you just need to forget about…” Kyra paused as flames flared at the corners of her daughter’s eyes, and sighed once more, though more authentically this time. “Fine, fine. Just… have fun, okay? Your dad should be done with judging the contests he signed up for, so he and I will be walking around, but if you need us, just… call…” Kyra dug into her purse, locating her phone and switching the ringer on, but her brow furrowed at something else she found. She plucked it free from the purse, revealing it to Mattie: an orange plastic pill bottle, topped with a white twist lid. “Oh, drat,” she grumbled, “these are Gabbie’s antibiotics, from that stomach bug she had last week.” She shook the bottle, and only a few pills rattled inside. “She’s supposed to take these with food… I wish I had given them to her before she wandered off with the Townsends…”
“Just give them to me, mom,” Mattie suggested, extending a hand to take them. “I’ll be going around anyways, and you and dad will be too wrapped up in each other to notice anything, so they’re better with me.” Kyra blushed at the accurate tease, and relented, handing the pills over to her daughter before reaching back into her purse to pull out a tube of her favorite hellfire-red lipstick and a small mirror.
“She’s almost done with them anyways, so it’s no big deal if she misses one, but… give them to her if you see her,” Kyra instructed her daughter, applying the lipstick as she watched Mattie slip the bottle into one of her pockets. The elder hellhound smiled at her daughter, dropping the tube of lipstick and mirror back into her purse and reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Mattie’s ear, and her daughter obediently allowed the grooming with only a patient smile. “We’ll meet up with you at ten at the carousel, but don’t hesitate to call if you need us, okay?” Nodding to her mom’s reminder, Mattie started to walk away, but paused when she felt her mom grab her wrist suddenly. She turned to see Kyra looked at her intently, but with a cautious smile. “You know I love you. I’m sorry for what I said about Jake. I just want-”
“What’s best for me, I know,” sighed Mattie. She nodded to her mother with a faint smile, and Kyra looked at her for a moment more before letting go and stepping back with a smile of her own. “I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you at ten, I promise.” And with a final wave, she turned and immersed herself into the flowing stream of bodies making its way through the faire, swept away from the gates in just a moment as she let herself experience a glimmer of that excitement that Gabbie had felt as she had marveled at the colors and motion of the faire from beyond the fence.
Her nose twitched as she smelled the food booths ahead – or maybe that was the pair of goblins walking by sharing a plate of funnel cakes, a reddish fruit spread – strawberry, probably – plopped on the center. One booth ahead was selling street corn, while another seemed to specialize in drinks, with deep plastic cups and jaw-dropping prices for lemonade. There were trailer-stands from several local restaurants she knew, including a BBQ place and a pizza franchise, and some taco trucks her friends had raved about. It was a banquet of smells, overtaking most – most – of the press of bodies around her.
She paused, deciding, with effort, to wait on finding something to eat. She took measure of the way the faire had been set up this year. Like usual, most of the agricultural contests had been placed in the agri-science buildings in a depression off to the side, and from hints of a pungent reek she knew the livestock show had a good turn-out. She was tempted to go down there to see if they had the usual petting zoo area and display of baby ducks, but the size of the crowd milling in and out of the buildings made her hesitate. Safely away from the smell of manure was the stage that would host the concerts – such might be a pleasant distraction for a while, but Mattie wasn’t ready to settle down just yet. Further uphill, in several of the campus buildings, were different booths and displays put on by local organizations. One of those, she knew, was the haunted house that Angie and Nikki had mentioned, and with a shiver she turned away from that direction, looking instead towards the main drag leading towards the rides. That felt the most exciting to her, but she also knew she would be passing by the game booths, and she steeled her nerves. More than one year in the past, she had stubbornly refused to surrender when one of the arrogant hawkers had called out to her, and she had walked away with all of her money gone and a consolation prize at best. She made herself promise that it would be different this year, but part of her doubted that she would manage to overcome her own competitive spirit.
She continued panning around, letting herself drift to the eddies at the sides of the river of people, in an open space between booths. That feeling of being watched had re-emerged, but, before she could begin to hunt down its cause – there! That scent!
Her ears stood upright and her tail wagged as she looked around the crowd, her eyes dancing back and forth in an incredibly challenging game of “Where’s Waldo?” – though she didn’t know what he would be wearing, so that made it even worse. Still, her nose promised her that he was near, if she could only…
A shiver passed up her spine, and, pausing in her frantic hunt, she let herself turn away from the crowd. She glanced further afield, searching… in the trees, near the edge of the campus, in part of the forest that it was embedded into. She jerked as she saw someone there, leaning against a tree… staring back at her. It was a blue-skinned girl, someone she almost recognized, dressed in half an outfit and smirking, sipping on a plastic cup. As Mattie watched, the girl curled a finger, beckoning to… her, she was certain of it. Mattie checked to either side, but sure enough, she was the only one standing still nearby. The other girl’s indigo eyes were locked onto her, and even despite the distance separating them Mattie could see the cruel humor there.
Part of her instincts told Mattie just to walk away – she was pretty sure it was her common sense, but she knew it could also be the fear that often embarrassed her. Another buried part of her, flame-eyed and sharp-fanged, welcomed a challenge, whatever it might be. A final part of her despaired that the familiar scent was gone, gone!, and so there was no reason to stay where she was. And so, teeth gritted and ready for anything, Mattie let herself be drawn towards the shadows of the trees as the sun continued to sink behind the mountains, painting everything in dimmer tones of orange and red. Before she could reach her, the other girl turned, her skirt flaring dangerously, and marched into the forest, beckoning over her shoulder… and still Mattie followed, determined not to let her fear get the better of her yet again.
And so the shadows enveloped her, and Mattie left the faire behind to follow the demon into the darkness.
Author’s Note: I’m pleased that the transition to summer break hasn’t slowed my pace as much as I had feared! I still have lots of work to do on other projects, but I intend to keep plugging away at this story. I’m raising my estimate from four to five chapters, but it should stay there, as long as the ending cooperates. Otherwise, it’s progressing as planned, so… hooray!
I don’t have much I will (or can, really) reveal about this chapter right now. I originally planned to have the next section, starring Jake, as part of this chapter, but… it fits better with the next one anyways, beyond the length that this chapter reached. There are some character notes that will have to be saved for the ending… oh, and, for those who haven’t read my other modern-day stories, there will be cameos interwoven into this one, but don’t worry overmuch about that, as I try to make the stories able to be read in different orders without much being lost. As a matter of fact, characters appear in this story from a couple I haven’t written yet!
And, as is my habit, I close by thanking you for reading. Some of your comments have really helped this time around, since this time of year is always a pain, and I hope that this chapter continues to build upon the anticipation some of you had for this sequel. There’s wild rides to come (literally), and of course romantic drama… I hope to see you around for the next chapter.
But, before I let myself get to writing it, first… a summertime delicacy: sleep…
~Wynn Pendragon
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