As much as Jahla wanted to close her eyes, she knew it wouldn’t do a damn thing. The thick coppery smell burning through her sinuses would never allow her to hide and pretend she wasn’t there. But that was how it always had been; covering one sense had never been enough. Not with what was littering the floor like discarded trash.
All around her were bodies—bloodied bodies. Bodies that were twisted and broken at impossible angles, with those whose faces were still intact holding the horrors of their last moments. But too many didn’t have faces at all, as if they’d been scraped off, their features removed in some sick and twisted game.
On hearing a noise behind her, she spun, her startled yelp catching in her throat as she stumbled away from the person who was right behind her, someone she hadn’t expected to see.Standing there at over six feet tall, was Noble. But this Noble was different, he looked younger. He had no lines onhis face, and his curly brown hair lacked any sort of gray. Not to mention, it was ponytail-long, and he had some major sideburns, the sides not faded like his hair was now. His clothing, on the other hand, was outdated. He was wearing scuffed up work boots, looser and slightly ill-fitting brown trouser-like pants, a thicker off-white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and what she’d describe as a brown waistcoat, just based on the era it likely came from.
More than the oddities of his looks and clothing, his expression was one she had never seen on the man’s face before—pure hatred and violence. The emotions seemed to be outlined and supported by the blood staining the man’s hands and clothes.
When Noble’s burning gaze narrowed pointedly at her, she?—
The soundof her alarm ringing had Jahla jerking awake with a gasp. Her heart was speeding away, just as it had been in her dream, so she took a shuddered breath and just laid there, trying to calm her breathing as her alarm continued to go off.
“A dream…it was—” She took another deep breath. “—just a dream.”
But what if…it wasn’t? No, well, logically, that dream had been vastly different than the first weird one. Less of a fishbowl looking out experience, for sure, yet...why did Jahla have this feeling that they weren’t different at all, and were in fact both visions of some kind?
Oh, right, because her best friend was now a witch, but she wasn’t, so like, they had to be just dreams!
Okay, so she could now see ghosts. At least, Jahla knew for a fact she could see the singular ghost that floated around Ollie’s library, but that didn’t make her a witch. Just idiotic enough tocontinue to stick by her redheaded friend who happened to be one.
Besides, no one in her family was a witch…as far as she knew. Though they were certainly deadly enough without being one. Not that she was even in contact to ask them, for very good mob-related reasons. Not that calling her dad up and being like, ‘hey, any witches in the family?’ would have been a good idea. It definitely wouldn’t blow over well with the highly religious, if slightly hypocritical mafia boss…
Speaking of dead bodies, and the possibly not-a-dream, Noble had now dealt with a total of two corpses while in Ollie’s proximity, one being someone he’d ended himself. And through all of it, the man had seemed, not only unshaken, but completely unfazed by pretty much every single thing that had happened with Ollie so far, witch-related and more.
It raised all sorts of red flags, and worse…he knew Mikael. And it wasn’t some bodyguard mob-related reason. No, Jahla was sure it was more than that. Noble knew what Mikael was, and in Jahla’s mind, now that she thought about it…
Well, there was really only one reason he would know, wasn’t there? Ah, fuck… Fuck, fuckidy, fucking, fuck…
Snagging her still blaring phone off her dresser with a groan, she killed the alarm, her brow raising on reading the short text from Ollie.
OLLIE
Come watch me train!
Train what exactly, and how? Well, it was definitely nothing athletic-related, as it was Ollie, and her friend avoided any exercise that didn’t involve running around the library like the plague. So, witch-related, for sure…
She hesitated for a moment before deciding that she was going to dumbly let her damn curiosity guide her…again.
Jahla sighed. What even were these choices she was making? She had officially become dumb enough to follow her equally as dumb white friend into the scary unknown apparently…
Ollie took a deep breath, eyeing where his red leather-bound, three-inch-thick grimoire sat on the ground in the middle of the clearing, before looking up and glancing around at the others. The others being Noble, Red, Jahla, and a very faded Annabel. He was guessing there was a limit to how far away she could be from the item she was connected to without being pulled back.
Currently, they were in the forest behind the library, in a circular clearing. Trees formed a border around the rather large space, and in the center, where they currently were, sat a set of ten stumps that had been used in the past for camp-related storytimes, while a few local schools booked the place for legit camp nights. Which was why there was so much empty space—plenty of room for tents.
Ollie cleared his throat, ready with his notebook and pencil. “So…my affinities?”
“Affinities?” Jahla whispered, clearly at a loss.
When he realized Annabel was about to answer, he squeaked, “Wait! Noble can’t actually hear or see you, Annabel, as far as I know? Is there a way to…” he trailed off.
“I mean, I don’t have to hear, I’m more here for support than anything,” Noble said with a chuckle.
“I thought that may be a problem.” Red sighed, as he jumped off the stump he’d been sitting on.
Ollie’s brow rose as, from behind the same stump, his cat pushed forward what looked like a small, brown retro radio with two knobs, but it lacked the larger dial that usually showed the numbers for stations. “Use this.”
“A spirit box. Haven’t seen one of those in ages.” Noble snorted as he crouched down and started turning the knobs. They all collectively winced, aside from Annabel, at the sharp, piercing noise that first came out before it settled on static.
Spirit box?Ollie knew of the concept, not that he’d believed any of the ones people used on TV had ever worked, but apparently, he was about to be proven wrong again.
