The Horror You Inspire

The days changed like you wouldn't believe.
When he was here, the grass was green, the flowers were pink, & the night was so bright.
Life had sunshine & smiles, and all those things us pessimist's despise.
Home wasn't like it used to be, because a house was never home, & he was never really planted like the flowers that lead up to their house.
He was home, and anywhere they went, as long as they were together, they were home.
There is, in fact, no place like it.
After he died, everything suddenly lost taste, like he had taken it with him.
So, she had to become friendly with the darkness and all sorts of scum, like the sewer rats & the Venus fly traps that she thought sometimes talked to her.
She had become comfortably numb.
All the animals spoke highly of him, and they only really fear the Seventh Son, his offspring.
It wasn't quite prophecy, but his rage & evil were predicted not long ago; regardless, she ignored it for as long as she could, because ignorance is bliss, right?


6. Chapter 5

While reading through the beautiful solar spells book Tom had hidden years ago, Maybelyn admires the sun and the stars protection over mankind, and the courage they have to do the things they do. 

The mystic shop is open again today, and the man who comes in today reminds Maybelyn of the horrible night she had weeks ago, and she shivers at the thought. 

"And I die these horrible deaths. It's always random, I'll be at my office sitting at my desk and someone will come in and rip me limb from limb, slowly and with lots of sharp things, and then I'll pass out, and wake up and I'm fine. No limbs gone, no blood. 
It's horrifying, but of all people I figured you might have an explanation" he says, and Maybelyn nods profusely, understanding almost exactly his circumstances, because they were similar to her own not too long ago. 

"May I ask you to recall other instances so I can understand your fear more?" Maybelyn asks. 

"I... Yeah, okay. Well I was in my car, and then a truck hit me head on, but I was awake for the whole thing, and I remember other cars piling behind me and people flying through their windshields and I'm pretty sure I was impaled through the skull with a piece of metal from a vehicle, and I know mothers were clutching their children that were decapitated or destroyed beyond recognition, but I passed out, and woke up on the same street, still in my car at the wheel" he admits, and has a very unsettling feeling. 

"If I could hear just one more?" Maybelyn prods. 

The fear in this man's eyes and the guilt in Maybelyn's stomach makes her change her mind, as she clears her throat and says "you know what, Charles, never mind about that, don't bother. Here's what I'll tell you... Try passing out sooner, or blink a lot. When you go to the places you frequent, conduct a minor search for odd looking coins or small bags with mysterious writing and the contents of spices and bones and other unnatural things. It sounds strange, but if you want to stay alive, find those things if you can and get rid of them" Maybelyn explains. 

The man nods and seems like he comprehends these guidelines and suggestions, but Maybelyn can sense he thinks she's being over proportionate and taking this a bit too seriously. 

"It's your funeral" Maybelyn thinks. 

Still lurking, always lurking in the shadows, Maybelyn hears Mitchell's pen scratching words on paper, but the man does not. 

After his session is over, Maybelyn cooks dinner for herself, not having cooked for her son since he started coming home with bloody clothing, and as a mother she can truly only hope for the best of her son, and not assume what her brain tells her, which happens not to be in the favour of his innocence, even though she knows that his guilt is truly the case. 

Humming a tune as she cooks her soup in a pot on the stove, Maybelyn reminisces the times she had with her happy baby boy, and dreads that death can bring dark things into people's minds. 

"Would you stop that, it's really obnoxious" Mitchell scolds from the other room and Maybelyn stops immediately. 

The shop attracts a lot of extra attention on Friday the 13th, because some people are hyper-superstitious, and sometimes it gets ridiculous for Maybelyn with the theories her customers come up with, but she ignores those theorists for the actual customers dealing with actual problems. 

Today in particular, Maybelyn has an interesting client named Joan Ringer. 

"Weird things have been happening to me. I'll get a sharp pain in my head or fall over in the middle of something, and I've had a perfect driving record all my life, but I got into a car accident recently. I found this doll in my daughter's room, but I thought that voodoo junk was only in the movies" she admits, and passes over Maybelyn's desk a small, almost identical doll to Joan, but with a lot of injuries to the doll and a lot less to Joan. 

"No it's very real unfortunately, but it is very different from the Hollywood portrayal. Do you think you could bring your daughter in, or if she refuses, you could score her room for an old looking book in a different language or anything you might think may be satanic. Bring whatever you can in, and I will help you" Maybelyn promises. 

And Joan does. The things Joan brings in honestly surprise Maybelyn because this witchcraft and dark magic is deep for a teenager. 

"Would she come here so I can ask here where she learned this, and convince her to not take it any farther, but to back down, because abuse and murder is not the answer to anyone's problems, especially your mother" Maybelyn asks, a bit louder than usual, knowing Mitchell will hear. 

A week later, Joan finally works her daughter to come, promising a reward, and brings along all her witchcraft and spell instruments. 

"Maybelyn this is my daughter Battle" Joan introduces. 

"It's a pleasure, Battle. My name is Maybelyn and I was quite interested in the voodoo you have been conducting on your mother. It's a bit amateur, considering you only got her to fall about a few times and a no injury car accident, but you are in your second year of Latin so I assume you've taken spell books from online and decided to test your language?"Maybelyn assesses in a matter of seconds. 

"She's a bitch who deserves it. Of course I know spells, but since the book is from online, it's clearly not reliable, because I'm not an amateur, just those spells are" Battle says in an angry tone. 

"Why are you trying to kill your mother by using voodoo?" Maybelyn asks flat out. 

"She's controlling me. Won't let me move out till I'm 21, tracks all my mobile's data, and won't let me go to see my friends" Battle says simply, but with a tinge of anger. 

"You're, what, 19? Two years won't kill you. So that's no reason to want to kill her" Maybelyn counters. 

"Her so called friends are the ones that got her into all this witchcraft demonic satanist cult stuff" Joan snaps. 

"It's only one friend who taught me, yet you deprive me from all of my friends! And it's not a satanist cult!" Battle screams. 

"Young lady there is no need to yell in my house and shop, especially at your mother" Maybelyn says calmly, trying her best to hold back her anger. 
Battle rolls her eyes. 

"So if you want, I will keep the spell books and remove the voodoo from this doll?" Maybelyn asks Joan. 

Immediately Battle protests but is drowned out by her mother confirming to Maybelyn that that is exactly what she would like. 

Maybelyn disposes of the books in front of Joan and her daughter, but leaves them in the bin to inspect later. 

Maybelyn takes her wand and casts an unbundling spell to remove the voodoo from the doll, 

When the deed is done, Joan argues with Battle on their way out, but Battle stops and says "Mitchell?" 

Mitchell comes to the room he was called into, pure anger on his face, but that's usual for Maybelyn to see.  

"What are you doing here?!" He snaps. 

"All of my witching books were confiscated and my voodoo's lifted from my controlling mother" Battle spits venomously. 

"You know her?" Maybelyn asks Mitchell. 

"Never mind that" he replies curtly. 

"You know what time and place we will discuss this" Mitchell says angrily and walks away. 

Battle follows her mom outside once Mitchell has gone upstairs. 

"Mitchell, how do you know Battle?" Maybelyn asks up the stairs rather intently. 

"I said never mind that, woman!" He screams and slams his door. 

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