“Just—will you get outta here? I’ll be fine. My social battery is officially fried.” It pained me to think she always felt utterly responsible and concerned for my well-being. I had told her a thousand times that she didn’t need to worry about me. Even with bitchy mermaid, I could handle myself just fine. I was used to people looking at me like that and treating me that way. Not that it was right, it just didn’t phase me that much.
“You’ll text one of us if you need something?”
I nodded and restarted pushing her toward the door. “Go! You’ve got a cowboy waiting.”
As the last of the attendees headed out for Irvine Avenue and other parties along the way, the Greek House was left in quiet contrast to the way it had been just moments ago. Despite there having been far too many people in the house, the party had mainly been contained to the main living space, meaning it would probably be fairly easy to clean up the next day, depending on hangovers, of course.
I moved about the kitchen picking up red solo cups and shovelling half-eaten plates of food into a garbage bag before placing it on the porch outside. Most of the food had beenscarfed down, courtesy of this year’s drunk athletes and one nasty mermaid.
Once I felt like the space in the kitchen was clear enough for me to relax, I took out my phone and typed in the number forFrank’s. Every town, every city, every place inhabited by people had its own version of ‘the world’s best pizza,’and I knew that every person swore by whatever place was closest to them, but none of those restaurants had anything onFrank’s.
His sourdough pizza was scientifically perfect. The thinness had a precisional accuracy that would have made supermodels weep; not to mention the dough was well-salted. Whatever they put in the sauce was as delicious as it was addictive. When I really thought about it, though, it was difficult to go wrong with garlic, basil, tomato, and cheese.Cheese is always good.
“Heya, Frank,” I called down the phone. “How are you doing tonight? Is it busy?”
I wanted to tell myself he recognised my voice immediately. I wanted to tell myself that I was one of his most prized and loyal customers, and that was why he chuckled, a warm baritone sound pouring down the phone, the moment I’d said hello. But given it was the twenty-first century, it would be silly to assume they were operating without caller ID. In a small town like this, working out deliveries was a whole lot faster, too, if you didn’t have to work out someone’s address every time they called in.
“Meh, you know what? It’s a little quiet for a Friday. But it's expected with it being Halloween. I’m hoping to cash in tomorrow when everyone’s a little hungover,” Frank mused.
I laughed. ‘Well, I’ve got my fingers crossed for you on that one, Frank. Can I get my usual, please?”
“Pineapple and ham, you got it.” I know it’s universally hated, but I like what I like.
“Oh, Frank!” I yelled a little too loudly, almost forgetting Iwas nowhere near my apartment. “Could you please send it to the Zeta Sigma Noctura house, please?”
“Sure thing, Quincey. Albie will drop it round in about forty minutes. He’s just on a few other delivery runs right now.”
“All good, Frank, thank you.” And with that, I hung up the phone, taking a breath and letting go of my high-pitched talking-to-an-acquaintance voice before trudging upstairs.
The loft room was small, with sloped ceilings on either side, framing a small twin bed in the middle of the room in front of an old, wide double window. The bed was simple, made up with a floral bedding that looked like it had belonged to someone who had likely lived some fifty years before. I flopped onto the mattress, feeling the way it shifted beneath my weight, the springs more than a little worn with age.
I settled onto the bed, sitting up and letting my back rest against the pillows as I pulled my overnight bag toward me. Since the moment I had gotten to the party, there had been a gnawing sensation at the back of my mind. One in addition to the general gnawing of my own anxiety. I pulled out the tattered book from my duffel and ran my hand over it again.
The Malediction Codex
For Everyday Curses and Hexes
Use at your own risk.
I opened it carefully, not wanting to disturb any of the loosely kept pages, before turning to the contents. There was all manner of spells available to me as I ran my finger down the page. Although I didn’t really believe in anything wiccan or witchy, I’d always found the occult as a general area of interest fascinating. From my course, it was clear that there was such a vast world and a wealth of knowledge to be gained from occultpractices, even if there was no scientific evidence behind any of it.
When people heard occult, they usually thought of five-point stars and cults and murders that plagued the country in the nineties. But that really wasn’t what any of it was. Occult Sciences originated centuries ago and encompassed three main practices: astrology, alchemy, and natural magic. For the most part, the practices were shunned because they were mystical and spiritual and a little toowoo-woofor the likes of normal people. But there was something so enthralling about things that went beyond the realms of what could be described as mere coincidence.
Fuck you, science, not everything needs to be empirically proven. Ever heard of a little thing called what if? Because that’s what truly makes things exciting.
I even took up using tarot cards every now and again when I felt like I couldn’t trust myself to make a good decision. Once again that could likely be chalked up to overthinking and anxiety but those cards hadn’t led me astray yet.
There were hexes and spells for everything. Everything you could possibly think of. Most of them harmless and impractical, but fun to read about nonetheless. From theForget-Me-Nothex that made the receiver more and more forgetful until they forgot who they were completely, to thePerpetual-Raincurse that meant the receiver was always subjected to torrential rain even if it was sunny across the street.
That just sounds like the everyday weather in Darling.
There was aLuck Reversalhex, which meant the user was rewarded with something good happening in their life, but it was always followed up with something twice as bad.
“Is there a way to undo that hex because that sounds like my everyday life…” I muttered to myself as I shifted to get more comfortable. I turned to a page that promised to let all malevolent things befall your worst enemy. Anything from embarrassment to bankruptcy to serious injury or maiming.
“I’m looking at you, cannibal mermaid.” I laughed as I continued to flick through the book. From what I could see, there was no step for specifying what malevolent thing would happen, so I thought better not.Just in case.
After flicking through a few more hexes, I found myself on the last page of the book.
