6 | Nah, She Is

895 78 23
                                    

I sat in a chair where the cushion was a large pelvis bone. It was much more comfortable than I'd like to admit.

The woman, monster—whatever she was—hummed at the stove. She stirred the pot of blood with a ladle of bone bound together.

She clanked the spoon against the pot, turning to me with a smile. "While we wait for it to boil, why don't you sing me a tune? I've been growing bored with the ones I know, not many stop by to share with me anymore."

I rested my elbows on the table, setting my chin on my entwined finger. "What kind of tune?"

She leaned back on the counter, tapping her nails on the bone. "I do enjoy those nursery rhymes or songs. The ones parents sing to their newborns. Did your parents ever sing to you as a child?"

"No." I couldn't imagine what horrors or propaganda my parents would sing to me. Their version of music was probably the screaming of unfortunate souls. Though, I wasn't so sure this creature's version of music would be much different. "But my brother did."

"Let's hear it then. You can sing to me while I tidy my home." She walked to the corner, grabbing her broom of hair.

My skin itched to get out, to take the flower and leave now. Only, she knew this forest better than me. If I didn't play this right, I would join her collection of bones and blood. And so would my mates.

"I don't sing." 

Her sweeping paused, magic rumbling off her. 

I had to bite my tongue, keep from pissing her off. Using my powers here would prove more of a bane. The more I used the easier she'd sense me, our similar magic humming to each other. It was how I was able to see through her illusions.

"But I can make an exception this once." I blew out a sigh.

The sound of bristled hair brushing against bone continued. The sounds were so similar to a mundane home. It made the situation all the more disturbing. I wouldn't ever be able to sweep a house the same after this.

I swallowed my emotions down, the images of my brother choking me as I tried to recall the words of his song. "Hush little baby—"

She huffed. Her nails scrapped against the handle of the broom and she clenched her fist. "I've already heard that one."

"I doubt it." My brother had a knack for turning anything peaceful into horrors. It was why I was so fucked up. 

She tapped her foot on the floor. Her loose skin jiggled with the motion. "You're not the first from the Mortal Realm to pay me a visit, child. I've been alive longer than the fae have existed, guarding this forest."

"This is a different version of the rhyme. I think you'll enjoy it more." I kept most of my attention on her but surveyed the rest of her house.

"Hush little baby, don't you cry.
"All the monsters can hear you scream outside.

"And if your eyes continue to weep,
"They'll try to smother you in your sleep."

No windows. Light poured through between the crack of bone in the ceiling and walls.

There were only two doors built of skulls. One led back into the forest. The other was cracked open by my side. It wan't open wide enough for me to peer into the dark room, but to smell the pungent odors wafting through. Death lurked mere feet from where I sat.

"And if you wake before the door breaks,
"They'll climb down the chimney to block your escape."

It was very minimalist. The only thing that stood out was a rope of braided hair leaning against the wall by her front door. Of course the entire house stood out, but that seemed to distract me the most—the rope of hair. I didn't want to know what she'd used it for, hair being twice as strong as most ropes.

Kingdoms of GoldWhere stories live. Discover now