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She was known as Blythe Pearl on earth, but in hell and beyond, she was Mortala. My Mortala. My bride. My deathly dark reaper queen. On her way home to me. Her last love. Did they think I’d play fair? I am the devil, after all.
Most people will tell you growing up means you stop believing in Halloween things — I’m telling you the reverse. You start to grow up when you understand that the stuff that scares you is part of the air you breathe. Peter Straub, “Magic Terror: 7 Tales”
If I wasn’t a gentleman, I would have fucked her five more times. That little pink sundress just begged for more of my knotting, and I wanted to give it to her.
On some nights, I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio. Hunter S. Thompson
My feathers ruffled. They didn’t yet know that I’d now lost my beloved friend to the pits of hell. Worse, they didn’t know my secret… the deepest secret I carried beneath my sealed beak. I’d hidden it from Blythe for so long now. If the familiars knew, that would cancel out any sort of nobility they believed I possessed. If the Halloween Boys knew… they’d kill me. Oh, the wretchedness I’d agreed to made me want to weep in sorrow. Thankfully, the subject changed.
What secret?!
I stepped forward, realizing what I was walking toward. I was having dinner with the most feared man in all of time and existence. The Devil.
“Dreadful and beautiful, much like you, sweet death, my little terror of decay.”
“You’re not going anywhere. You belong to me now.”
“You danced with the devil and lost your head, huh?”
“Hello, Mortala. My bride. Welcome home.”
“Under similar circumstances. A romp in the woods, a scream in the night, and a scene of horrors awaiting us.” “Sounds like your dream date.”
“There is no more Onyx, or Wolf, or Ghost. There is only me for you now, Mortala.”
He stood between my knees, shirtless and broad, before dropping to his knees slowly. “You are the only one I have ever or will ever kneel before.”
“When I’m on my knees for you, my sweet death, I will do anything for you.”
“Because you are haunted just as I am.”
“What do you want?” “You, all of you, with me forever and all of time,”
“While you’re down there looking pleased with yourself, the least you could do is please me,”
“Look at you. How I’ve wanted you, my death. And now I’ll never let you go again.”
The Halloween Boys were safe. And I never would be again.
“Well, too fucking bad. Hell stole our girl.”
Wolf rasped, “Come on both of our cocks, little one. Come on our cocks as we come inside you and fill you up with us.”
They were all pieces of me, and I was pieces of them, and we were all one. Ghost, Dragon, Wolf, and Devil. They were mine; they were me, and we were all made for each other.
Until I met the Halloween Boys. And they showed me, each in their own unique ways, that I was more and that I was worthy of love. I was worthy of staying in one spot. Of standing still and letting the evils have their go. And my boys were there for me, always reminding me that I had the power inside me the entire time. And they were right. They were right in the deepest and truest of ways. Because I was more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Despite my fear, despite my past, I was strong.
She’d always loved Halloween. A magic night. A night when anything could happen. Monsters could be real. Magic could whisper in the air. Cynthia Eden
Though maybe in
everyone we love we are simply finding missing pieces of ourselves. Maybe they help us remember who we truly are. Maybe that’s magic.
And they haunted happily ever after.
