Those Cold November Winds - Morgo/Mr Voice x Reader (Little Misfortune)

The Slow October Fall

The air sank heavily against your shoulders, bloated with silent dread. The sudden lack of any birdsong filled the misty air with a sort of intangible fragility, as if at any moment the sky would split apart and swallow you whole. Every nerve in your body began to hum, as instincts that had been honed for millennia whispered that what they would really like to do is to run away now, thank you very much, and could you perhaps please lock the door and set fire to the stairwell on the way back down?

But centuries of instinct were no match for a healthy dose of teenage angst and untreated trauma. Instead, you remained rooted firmly in place, fists clenched resolutely at your sides, as you glared bravely (desperately, foolishly) into oblivion.

....Which would have been far more impressive, if oblivion didn't look exactly like empty air.

You breathed out sharply in barely-contained alarm, eyes sweeping the rooftop in front of your gaze. But there it was, clear as the sweat beading at your brow - nobody else was there. Just you, and the stiffening corpse of the crow at your feet. A soft chuckle wormed its way sheepishly past your lips as you stooped down to slip the poor thing onto your school binder, gingerly lifting it to chest height as you mulled over how to give it the proper send-off.

The door handle was almost in your grasp when you heard that molten silk pour over your ears, comforting as a weighted blanket sewn from nettles.

"Really, is that how your mother raised you? To slink away when someone is trying to strike up a conversation?"

Your breath died in your throat, your heart slowed to a tremorous ache in your chest, your stomach clenched around a hard ball of ice, your knees grew weak and treacherous under your weight, your-

(Yes, yes, I believe they get the picture. Can we please get on with our story now?)

-Inch by inch, step by step, you circled to face the voice again. Nothing. Only dead air, empty space, a complete absence of anything but the twisting cityscape below. A sudden rage boiled within you, melting away the anxiety, as you screeched at the nothingness in front of you.

"If... If this is some kind of prank, then guess what? I'm! Not! Laughing!"

A period of silence hung over your attempt at protest, drawing on long enough to bring a sense of fragile relief. With a soft huff, embarrassed and more than a little ashamed, you took a single step back. Perhaps you hadn't gotten enough sleep, perhaps the book of ghost stories you furtively read in the comfort of your room, to escape the constant war your parents waged against each other, had made you begin to see things that simply weren't there.

Or at least... That's what you allowed yourself to believe, until a sudden chill snaked over your left hip, slipping across your back, as a rumbling voice murmured into your ear.

"A prank-? No, no, nothing childish like that- I was hoping we could have a little talk, just you and I."

Your feet swung to face the sound again, eyes narrowed as you peered into the ether. There on the asphalt, drifting over the ground with a slow, aimless purpose, was a shadow. It was cast by no object, formed by no figure, and yet... There it was. Dark. Slender. And oh, so very, very tall. The light itself appeared to bend and twist away from it, as if afraid to let itself brush against the yawning black. The effect made your head swim, and the crow's poor, prone body fell to the ground with a muted thud as you rubbed at your eyes to ease the ache. 

"Yes, yes, take all the time you need. After all, it isn't as if I have a special surprise in store for you."

"A- What...?"