Wiccan Act One: Occult

6 | My Murder Town

Dedicated to chaotic_silence17

Christian

VI

Cyrus' house had a tasty chocolate aroma floating around from the cookies in the oven.

The idea was to come here and leave a note for his aunt in order to escape a heavy scolding later on. Christian sat on a kitchen stool leaning over the counter, chin in hand, staring at his surroundings. Ms Laveau was a saint, the nicest person he had met, so when his best friend would describe her lectures, Christian wondered how an angel could turn into a fire-breathing dragon in a heartbeat.

At his house he didn't get lectures. He got glares and sighs of disapproval.

'Christian you shouldn't talk to people like that.'

'Christian you do it because that's the right thing to do.'

'Christian you took it too far.'

That's what he heard on repeat from both of his mothers whenever he said anything out of line. It wasn't his fault he didn't see why he shouldn't correct someone when they were being idiotic or why there was no point in cleaning something that wasn't dirty. They blew his words out of proportion, apart from his occasional argument with his sister over who actually won their Scrabble matches. He won, of course.

Cyrus viewed their world differently. Christian knew that from the day he and the boy met in kindergarten, how Cyrus would always help the other kids with their arts and craft or try to make everyone feel included around him. Christian wishes he could be similar, but people didn't like him the way they liked Cyrus. No, people loved Cyrus because he was kind, helpful and put others first. Christian had been a know-it-all, stuck up and a sore winner. At least that's what they said.

However, somewhere between that time and now, that Cyrus died.

Cyrus sat at the other end of the table, flipping pages of an old book Christian plucked from his shelf back home. One that barely had a cover, revealing the stained pages down below. From coffee to ketchup and what he hoped was mud, its paper cracked and buckled under Cyrus' touch. He assumed they were white at some point, but now they resembled a child's teeth after Halloween.

"How did you read all of this?" Cyrus asked, peeking a look at his friend. "It's so boring."

Christian shrugged. "I find it quite informative."

"All I'm seeing are farmers and weather patterns."

"You only got past the first three pages."

"Because it's boring," he groaned, slamming the book shut before sliding it over to Christian, who picked it off the countertop.

"Besides, I thought you said the book with all the information is at the library."

Ding!

Cyrus made his way over to the stove, putting on one of many mittens hanging around. A searing heat enveloped them the instant he cracked open the oven door to remove its red hot pan. Even reheated, Ms. Laveau's cookies made Christian's mouth run, his gaze fixed on their golden brown colour.

"It is, but this is also fascinating," Christian informed. "Oakwood had been a tiny farming settlement barely making it by a little over several hundred years ago and as if overnight, it became a prosperous town with a robust economy and hundreds of residents."

Cyrus gave Christian an unamused look, signifying he wasn't enjoying the history lesson as much as Christian enjoyed telling it.

"Go on," Cyrus stated.