𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊

"You need what?"

You rolled your eyes, swinging your leg back around the body of Michael's newly-renovated motorcycle. Between him and Sam, he was taking the whole witchcraft thing the worst. "Rosewater, lavender, and a black candle. It's not rocket science."

"Jeez," he shook his head, steadying the bike so you could dismount. "My grandpa has you doing some weird shit, huh?"

Michael parked the bike right at the entrance of the boardwalk. Much less crowded than before, only half of the rides were in operation and most of the night-life was taking place down at the beaches where the locals tended to cultivate away from the prying eye of tourists.

"It's just a simple protection spell," you smiled, "who knows, maybe you'll need me to cast one on you one day."

He must've known you were joking, but the way he bit the inside of his cheek in silent terror made you giggle before pointing your thumb behind you at the row of gift shops that lined the interior of the entrance. "I'm joshing you. The metaphysical shop is just inside. Two minutes tops."

"You're not going alone, are you?"

"You're more than welcome to join me," you said, spinning around on the toe of your shoe. "As long as you don't mind smelling like incense and myrrh for the rest of the night."

Michael paused and wrinkled his nose in what you assumed was polite disgust. "I-uh-I'll just stay by the bike, then."

You laughed, accidentally shouldering a group of girls who were stumbling drunkenly through the exit. "That's what I thought," you said to yourself, offering him a short wave before disappearing inside.

The shop had everything you needed and more. You were able to grab all of the items on your short shopping list along with some other things that caught your eye. Nothing special, just ingredients you'd been meaning to pick up but never had the proper time.

A few minutes later you were back outside, painted in the fleeting light of the tall passing lamps. The entrance seemed so far away now when you had to pass so many tourist traps that were designed to distract you from reaching your destination.

Carnival fanfare wafted in and out of your ears along with the joyful screaming of the brave souls who dared to take a ride on the rickety, ancient-looking roller coaster. Games with flashing lights and appealing prizes were stationed all along the walkway, begging for you to stop and take just a look.

And so against your better judgment, you did.

Just a couple feet away there was a young girl sitting alone on a wooden stool, nervously shifting her sneakers against the chipped pegs. Her eyes darted skeptically between the two adults who stood over her, one holding a rusty piercing gun and the other a massive wad of cash. You watched from a safe distance, subconsciously reaching up and tugging on your earlobe.

You'd never gotten your ears pierced, despite how much you used to beg Mr. E to take you into town to have it done. You grew out of the Glamour phase pretty quickly to focus on your work, but that little seedling of childish desire still clung to the back of your mind.

Without thinking, you took a single step forward to read the tall wooden sign propped up next to where the little girl was now howling in pain. 

"It's a scam."

The silky voice coaxed you out of your stupor and you glanced over your shoulder to see the girl from last night smiling at you. She was wearing the same thing as yesterday, though the skirt was significantly different and she had a thin shawl draped over her tan shoulders.