Death is a Girl

Emma looked the truck over suspiciously before getting in.

“You okay?” Morrigan asked.

“So… this is just an ordinary truck, right?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“It’s just so strange. The grim reaper driving a normal car.”

Morrigan smirked. “Well, how else is he supposed to get around?”

“I dunno… on a headless horse or something?”

“There are no myths about headless horses. Just a headless rider.”

“Well, none of the versions of the Grim Reaper have him driving a Ford either.”

Morrigan laughed. “True.”

They climbed in, and Morrigan started the ignition. She took a deep breath as she looked over the graveyard. The top of the angel statue was visible in the distance with the willow tree standing tall somewhere behind it, both landmarks rising from the sea of dilapidated headstones and monuments. Morrigan set her eyes on the willow tree, thinking about all the times she’d spent the afternoon reading underneath it. She’d fallen asleep there more than once, and as she thought about that, she didn’t want to leave. Part of her wanted to go back in and disappear amongst the graves.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.

“I was just thinking… What’s the point? Even if I find the guys who did this to me… what am I going to do about it? Get revenge?”

“Not revenge, but… they are murderers right? They can’t just be allowed to get away with this, can they? Besides, they sound like total psychos. Think what else they might do.”

Morrigan turned to look at Emma. Something else was bothering her, and though Emma had brushed it off earlier, she felt like she should bring it up again. “How are you able to just believe all of this so easily? Before meeting up with you, I thought I was an idiot for even trying to explain it all to you. I thought if you didn’t run away in terror, you’d think I was crazy or pulling some elaborate prank.”

Emma smiled. “Maybe I’m a little crazy too?”

Morrigan didn’t feel satisfied with that answer but was still feeling a bit out of it, so had trouble coming up with a response.

“Look, I don’t know what I believe,” Emma said. “All I know is you were in trouble and frankly, you look like hell. Also… you showed me the scar. Your eyes are red, and that’s not makeup on your face. Unless you came down with albinism sometime in the last ten days, clearly something supernatural happened to you.”

“Why aren’t you scared?”

“Well, you’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

“No.”

“Then why should I be scared?”

Morrigan supposed that made sense. Emma always was energetic and quick to jump forward with both feet, so it’s not like this was entirely outside her personality. Morrigan reached down to her bag and pulled out a small case with her blue contacts.

“What’s that?” Emma asked.

“Contacts. To help me blend in a little better.” She held an eyelid open in the rearview mirror and put the left one in, then repeated the process on her right eye. Her otherworldly red eyes were now a much more natural shade of blue.

“Hmmmm… hang on a sec,” Emma said, as she started digging through her own bag. She eventually pulled out a face mask. “Covid was good for something after all. Put this on when we go in.”

“I usually just keep my hood low. It works fine.”

“Maybe for paying for something in some random gas station,” Emma said. “The guy who runs this shop is serious into black magic and stuff. I’ve been in there a few times, and I can tell he isn’t just playing around. If you’re showing too much skin, he might notice and get suspicious.”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at her. She remembered Emma being interested in horoscopes and occasionally telling classmates about their signs and stuff like that, but she didn’t see her as the type to frequent occult shops.

“Just trust me,” Emma said. “Can’t hurt, might help, right?”

“I’ll still look like a freak. The mask might even make me stand out more.”

Emma chuckled. “Na, think about the kind of people who go into places like that. You are going to be one of the more normal-looking customers they’ve had.”

Morrigan decided to just give up on arguing. “Fine, I’ll wear the mask.” She finally put the truck into gear and pulled out of the graveyard.

Emma gave her directions along the way. They ended up going down the same road that would eventually lead to Death’s cabin but took a different turn at least ten miles sooner. Morrigan once again felt this was strange as the occult shop they were supposedly going to wasn’t even in town where Emma could have just wandered in on a whim one day. It was back in the woods and down a road that didn’t seem to be used for much else.

Eventually, Morrigan saw a sign: Atomyst’s Magic and Occultism, three miles ahead!

“How do you know about this place again?”

“Ummm, so I have this cousin—she’s super cool—but she’s really into this kind of stuff. She showed me how to read tarot cards and stuff like that, but I never showed any of that off at school because…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, thought people would judge me. Horoscopes are one of the most socially accepted magic-related things around, so I never had problems sharing that with everyone. Besides, I wasn’t even the only one doing it. Anyway, I came to this place with her a couple times, and once by myself to buy her a birthday present.”

“So, just how into this stuff are you?”

Emma chuckled. “Let’s just say, I know what it’s like to hide a big part of yourself. That’s why I never judged you for doing it either.” Morrigan glanced her way to see Emma giving her a reassuring smile. “Oh, there it is!”

Morrigan slowed the truck down as they approached a quaint, rustic building nestled among the trees. The shop had an eerie charm, with dark wood and symbols etched into the door. A few odd-looking charms hung from the eaves.

Emma nodded. “This is the place. Atomyst is the old guy I mentioned. He’s kind of eccentric but knows his stuff.”

They parked and got out of the truck, Morrigan pulling the face mask over her mouth and the hood over her head. “So we just go in?”

“Yeah,” Emma smirked. “That’s how stores usually work, right?”

“Sorry, just thought there might be some kind of etiquette with a store like this.”

Emma laughed as she led the way, and as she opened the front door, a ding sounded from a bell in the top corner of the door frame. Inside, motes of dust danced in rays from the sparse windows, which provided only dim lighting. There were several isles of wooden shelving, which at first glance seemed completely unorganized and stacked with random trinkets. As she followed Emma, Morrigan glanced down the isles, seeing that some favored bottled substances, spices, and herbs probably, others held books, and another had jars with preserved animal remains, though which animals those might be, Morrigan could only guess. Whatever the case, this place certainly wasn’t some family-friendly trick shop.

Despite all this, Emma strolled confidently through, Morrigan herself feeling more unsettled than the normal human girl.

Morrigan heard a shuffling somewhere behind the counter, and her eyes were drawn to a doorway with beads draping over it like a curtain. The beads then jangled together as a hand emerged from the dark room beyond. It had black nails that at first seemed more like claws, with spots of white paint that Morrigan realized were symbols, or runes, or letters from another language.

The hand cast the beads to the side as its owner emerged, pointy hat first. For a moment, Morrigan wasn’t sure what she expected that oversized witch’s hat to reveal. Maybe a wizened old crone with a crooked nose and a cleft lip, or perhaps something not even human.

Instead, as the hat lifted, the brim revealed the face of its owner; it was a strikingly fair-skinned young woman, probably in her mid-twenties. She had thick black makeup around her eyes that stretched out into thin points like a simple mask for a masquerade party. Her eyelashes seemed abnormally long, extensions, and when she blinked her eyelids glittered with millions of tiny stars as if they contained mini universes. Though, other than her makeup and attire, she seemed to be completely normal and certainly human.

The witch cast a scrupulous gaze over Morrigan and Emma as she came to the counter. Her black nails clicked on the wood surface as she put her hand down, and her eyes eventually settled on Emma. A smirk touched the corner of her lips as a single finger raised, pointing to the left wall of the store.

“You can find beauty supplies and love potions against the far wall there.” Her tone was somewhat dismissive, clearly taking some kind of jab at Emma. Emma, however, took it in stride as she raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest.

“Not interested, I’m doing fine on my own, thank you.” She then smiled. “I was more interested in looking through some spell books.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, contemplative, as she took Emma in. Her gaze shifted to Morrigan only momentarily but seemed less interested as she returned to Emma. Then, her contemplative expression gave way to a grin. “Oh wait, I recognize you.” She pointed one of her black fingernails at Emma. “You’ve been here before. You’re Hilda’s younger cousin, right?”

“Yeah, Emma. And this is my friend Morrigan.”

“Pleasure,” the witch girl said, holding out a hand to Morrigan. “I’m Arietta, granddaughter to the great wizard Atomyst.”

Without thinking, Morrigan removed her hand from her pocket and shook the witch’s hand. Morrigan was wearing her fingerless gloves, so it was safe to touch her. However, as Arietta’s hand grasped hers, the witch’s eyes briefly flicked down to the exposed fingers uncovered by Morrigan’s glove. For a fleeting second, Morrigan felt a surge of panic, wondering if Arietta could somehow sense what she was.

But just as quickly as the scrutiny came, it vanished. Arietta’s expression remained unchanged, her demeanor casual as if nothing was amiss. She released Morrigan’s hand and turned her attention back to Emma with a smile.

“So, spell books, huh?” Arietta said, moving away from the counter. “Oh, and sorry for the shtick. I was building into the whole ‘I’ll grant you beauty beyond measure, but in exchange, I’ll take an equal portion of your youth’ spiel.”

“Do I look like I need something like that?” Emma said with a grin.

“No, no, of course not,” Arietta chuckled.

“Can you actually do that?” Morrigan asked. “Trade someone’s youth for beauty?”

Arietta turned to her with an amused smile. “Oh yes, quite easily. Though, I’d never actually do it. Those are truly black magics. The kind that comes with a price no matter which side of the deal you are on.” She shrugged. “I like to scare pretty girls with it, though. It helps with word of mouth, spreads rumors, and ultimately ends up being good for business. Normally I end up selling them some harmless trinkets and send them on their way.”

Morrigan was still trying to decide if this woman was the real deal or just really dedicated to putting on a show.

Arietta led them to a shelf with so many books on it that it bent under their weight. She ran a finger across the bottoms of the spines as she looked them over. Some looked ancient with worn leather covers, while others appeared newer, their spines still stiff and uncreased. “So, what kind of thing are you looking for?”

“What do you recommend for beginners?” Emma asked. “Lately, I’ve been wanting to get more serious about it.”

Arietta stopped and picked out a leather-bound book with runes etched into its cover, similar to the white ones painted on her fingernails. She blew some dust off of it and handed it to Emma. “Here, this is a collection of herbal remedies and protective spells. It’s a great way to work on your attunement without getting into any trouble.”

Emma looked it over and flipped open the cover, quickly skimming a few pages. “What if I wasn’t worried about trouble?”

Arietta shrugged. “The fun ones are in the back room. But if you end up pissing something off and getting cursed, I don’t want to be the one to explain that to Hilda.”

“Can we at least look?” Emma asked, closing the cover.

“Maybe,” Arietta said, and leaned against a wall, adjusting the brim of her witch hat as she set her eyes on Morrigan. “How about you? What brings you here?”

“Oh, I’m just tagging along with Emma,” Morrigan said.

Arietta tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed Morrigan. “Just tagging along, huh? You don’t strike me as someone who’s just along for the ride.”

Morrigan shifted uncomfortably, feeling Arietta’s gaze piercing through her. “I’m just... curious, I guess.”

Arietta pushed off from the wall and led them back towards the counter, her movements fluid like a cat. “Alright, let’s take a look in the back room.”

“Really?” Emma asked.

“Sure, just a peek,” Arietta said as she held the beads to the side and gestured inside. “Please, right this way.”

Morrigan tugged Emma’s sleeve, giving her a look. Emma whispered, “It’s alright, she’s just trying to spook us.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s go.”

The back room was dark, but with much more open floor space. The first thing that caught Morrigan’s eyes was how more of those runes were painted on the walls with luminescent paint that made them glow in the dark room. She then glanced along the shelves that lined the walls; more books, more bottles, a rack with wooden staves in the corner, and another shelf with what looked like wands. Morrigan had to squint to peer through the darkness.

“Woah, so what are those symbols?” Emma asked, moving towards the center of the room and turning in a circle as her eyes glanced along each of the inscribed walls.

“Runes, not symbols. Some are protective, and some are meant to create a seal, so nothing escapes. Others are meant to help strengthen our attunement.”

“Attunement?” Morrigan asked as Arrietta walked over to the bookshelf. Morrigan kept herself close to the beaded doorway, feeling a bit nervous about stepping too far in. She didn’t know why, but this place unnerved her. Emma shared none of those fears as she followed Arietta to the bookshelf.

“Every living thing...” Arietta began, as she selected a book and opened it. “...has some level of magic. For most, it is quite weak, but some lucky few are naturally attuned. In the case of my family, we are from a long line of witches and wizards. To say it’s in our blood isn’t quite accurate, but it is certainly a part of our essence. So, we take to it easily. There are ways to strengthen your attunement, even if you are completely ordinary. The best way is to regularly practice with simple spells. Just like exercising your body, you can exercise your energy. Understand?”

“I see,” Morrigan said, looking over her shoulder, peering through the beads back into the main part of the store.

“Here, Emma, take a look at this,” Arietta said, handing Emma the book with it open to a specific page she’d seemed to be looking for.

Emma turned her head, looking into the oversized tome and squinting her eyes.

Arietta clapped, then slowly opened her hand and Morrigan saw a bit of light coming from her palm. She opened her hand fully, letting it act as a sort of flashlight. Emma looked at her and grinned.

Morrigan wondered if it was some parlor trick, or if she was using real magic to create that light.

“I still can’t read it,” Emma said, “It’s written in uh… is this writing the same as those runes?” Morrigan was finally curiose enough to step further in, and get a closer look.

“No, runes stand alone, they are not like letters. But, I suppose they can be combined in a manner similar to letters in a word. A sort of magical language. But either way, you don’t read runes,” Arietta explained. “This here is something different. It is an ancient dialect that hasn’t been spoken outside of witchcraft in many thousands of years. Here, I’ll show you.”

Arietta placed one finger on the pages and began to read in a language Morrigan didn’t understand, though it made her think of when Emo-boy was reading from a similar book back in the graveyard when he was preparing to cut the small boy they had forced along with them.

“Es’cathari endelosa, mi’scaladi en’to neir.” Arietta looked into the book from over Emma’s shoulder with her arms practically wrapped around the younger girl, one hand holding the light, the other moving a black-nailed finger across the pages. A chill ran down Morrigan’s spine as she watched Arrietta lean in closer until she was saying the words directly into Emma’s ear. “Esta’tato mi’alsca en’fali destrada, ershalda en o’freza.”

Arietta’s lips were practically on Emma’s earlobe when she then whispered in English. “Now. Stay still and ignore all that you hear, child.”

“H-hey!” Morrigan said as Arietta stepped away from Emma and faced her. “What are you—”

Arietta snapped a finger, and the runes on the wall lit up, now bathing the room in light. A pulse of wind blew through, and Emma gave no reaction, holding the book in complete stillness as if she were frozen.

Arietta scowled at Morrigan. “Now, what are you really? And what are you planning to do to this girl?”

Morrigan stepped backward, her heart jumping in fear. She glanced back to the doorway and noticed the beads glowing as brightly as the runes on the wall.

Arietta’s smile was ominous. “Don’t think about running, spirit. You are sealed in. And I don’t plan on allowing you to leave.”