Page 47 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

Danny grins at her.

My attention is suddenly drawn to a rather chunky cat swaggering into the kitchen like he owns the place. The only thing marring the cat’s haughty expression is the thick layer of what looks like melting chocolate ice cream that encircles his face.

He mewls demurely and heads to Danny, who picks him up and snuggles him into his lap, then snags a dishcloth off the counter closest to him. The cat purrs contentedly as he allows Danny to clean his face.

“Okay, if I might summarise,” Tristan says, pointing to Chan. “You’re here because Dusty left you a message to stop by and check on us.” Then he turns to Dusty. “By the way, Chan says don’t use her favourite lipstick next time.” He glances at Sam. “You stopped by to draw phallic symbols and write dirty limericks on Danny’s cast.” Then he turns back to me. “And you, Harrison…did you stop by to say hello or was there something specific?”

“Um, well, I…” I try to think of something. “Just stopped by, I guess.”

“Fine. It’s late and I’m hungry. I really want some chicken noodle soup from The Golden Dragon around the corner,” Tristan says. “If you guys are staying, take a seat and we’ll order some food.”

Sam shrugs. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I don’t think–” I begin, but Sam cuts me off and winks at me! I swallow tightly and glare at him, annoyed that my stupid heart rate has picked up.

“Come on, Prickles. We didn’t get to feed you the other night, so this can be our do-over.”

I continue to glare. “I don’t need a do-over, and don’t call me Prickles.”

Sam’s voice lowers a fraction. “Don’t get me wrong. I like you all prickly.”

Heat flushes my body. “Y-you’re ridiculous,” I stammer.

“Ooooh, entertainment while we eat.” Chan smirks. “This is going to be fun to watch.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash of thunder outside and the power cuts out, plunging us into darkness.

“Nobody move,” Chan says. “Tris, honey, do you have any candles?”

“No,” Tristan says somewhat wistfully. “Apparently, I can’t be trusted with them.”

“It’s true,” Danny says in amusement. “Last time we nearly lost the curtains.”

Chan laughs from somewhere in the darkness. “A flashlight then?” she amends.

“There should be one in the cupboard under the sink,” Danny says.

I can hear her fumbling in the blackness and suddenly a beam of light clicks on. It swoops over the kitchen as Chan tries to get her bearings, first over Danny and then Tristan, but as she moves the light over the chair between him and me, the beam highlights a face that was not there before the lights went out.

Chan lets out a scream that could shatter glass, and I’m certain she’s got a career in B horror movies if she ever gets tired of being a drag queen. Seriously, what is it with Tristan and drag queens?

Suddenly, the electricity clicks back on and the whole kitchen is once again flooded with light.

Everybody stares in varying stages of shock at the stranger sitting quietly in the chair next to mine. They don’t seem to know who he is, but I do. I’m not sure how, but the awareness is just there inside me, and I know it with absolute certainty. This creature sitting calmly and watching all of us is not human.

He is Death.

11

“What in holy hell?”

Chan’s words break the stunned silence as Death sits calmly in our midst. An ominous bolt of lightning flashes in the dark sky outside the window, and a moment later, a loud rumble of thunder shakes the glass in its frame.

“You’re real?” Danny exclaims loudly, and Tristan turns to look at his boyfriend in surprise.

“Wait, what? You know who he is?”

I wonder how any of them know who this is.