Harridan

Kieran was awoken from her nap by her trilling alarm, signalling the approaching time of promenade. She didn’t want to go anymore and planned to message Donnie those thoughts. In their chat, however, were a flood of GIFs and memes about the evening and his excitement. Her defeat grew but here, with Donnie, she caved in and resumed. Mind made up, against her own feelings, Kieran set up her makeup and her hair things ready before going to start the age-old routine. The thought that came to mind was how Anna wanted to do her hair and makeup.

The screech from the shower’s hot tap was welcoming and she eased her shoulders under it. Defrosting allowed her to think over somethings. So much had happened, and she didn’t know where to start. The scorching water was also warming against the absent mind. A mind heavy with all sorts of scenarios playing out, with how the night would go; it was another reason she didn't frequent parties or Blaine's social calendar.

The fragrance of peaches in her hair products were also aromatherapeutic and went with the body scrub. The feel of her conditioner she massaged her scalp with also eased her foul mood. She cupped her soapy hands together. Black mist started to form in her palms.

She balled her hands and took a deep, steady breath with her eyes closed. Kieran took another deep breath and a third before rinsing her hair. While rinsing, she continued taking deep breaths and felt the energy inside her subside. She stepped out of the shower and braced herself for the evening to come. The shower was so piping hot that steam radiated off of her when she stepped out.

The black tiled floor matched the shower tiles that were splattered wet with water and foam. The rest of the bathroom - including the bathtub, cabinets and towels - were all white. The harridan had a fleece bathrobe on, and a towel in her hair, roughing out the worst of the wetness. The flip-top vanity was set up with all the brand-new brushes, combs and the blow-dryer and curler. The detangling spray and brush, admittedly, was a step in the right direction on James' part.

The harridan dried out her hair with scrutiny in the mirror as she tamed the wild curls. She sat, remembering how Blaine straightened her hair once for Halloween. Blaine was Morticia Addams, and she forced Kieran to be Elvira. Blaine had a less than pleasant time straightening Kieran's hair; at some point her arms were so sore, Kieran took over. When Doreen saw it, she made Kieran vow to never straighten her hair again. A promise the harridan has faithfully kept.

Once Kieran had hair neatened down and dry, she could get started on her makeup - something she hadn’t mastered yet - and take her time with it. Another thing Blaine had promised to do for the night. With a towel wrapped around her torso, Kieran picked out dark reddish-purple, almost wine-coloured lipstick and dark eye shadow and started working carefully and meticulously. Her hands were steady around her eyes, and it paid off! She was chuffed with her handy work!

Per the norm, Magnolia let herself in without warning paying no mind to anything else but her own little world. "James and I are having a movie night. D'you want to start with comedy or horror?" She shot Kieran a confused frown then set her hands on her hips. "What're you doing?"

"Preparing for the Bride of Satan ritual."

"You're not going." Kieran rolled her eyes the continued with her thick line of eye pencil. "That entire school thinks you killed that girl, including their parents and the teachers."

"'That girl'? 'That girl'? Blaine was my sister. My only friend. The fact that you can't remember name says a lot." Kieran tossed the eyeliner. "Why am I surprised," she hissed under her breath.

"Rie, I'm just looking out for you. What if they pull a Carrie stunt or...?"

"They're more than welcome to; we all saw how that ended." Magnolia sighed then shook her head. In defeat, she made a silent exit with her under breath mumblings fading too. "Magnolia," Kieran sighed then spun her chair towards the door. "We take these no-holds-barred jabs at each other and then go on as if it's nothing."

"What do you want me to say? That you were right? That I did put you in special-ed because I knew I would be terrible at this? That, that paid-for abortion could've been the best decision I ever made?" Kieran shrugged a single shoulder weakly. "That after all this time I don't think I like you, like, at all. If it were at all possible, I would love to get rid of you. To this day, I don't know why I never did."

The harridan looked towards the vanity. "I don't like you either," Kieran admitted. "But you're still my--"

"Don't! Don't say it. I think I'll vomit if I hear you, of all people, say it. Just..." the journalist waved coldly as she turned to leave "... get out of my life, Kieran. I don't know where we go from here, but I don't you in my life any more than you want me in yours."

"You don't want to try and be civil?"

"Not with you," Magnolia confessed. "Not with whatever hellish, devil spawn... thing... you are," the journalist added then left.

Kieran looked back to the mirror, seeing pitch black tears swell in her eyes. She threw her head back and blinked profusely and sniffled softly. She swallowed the forming lump then exhaled a wisp of black breath. The gnawing black spreading from her fingers also began. The harridan shook her head then looked to her mascara collection Anna amassed. Kieran looked away, taking steady breaths. Eyes shut, the soccer defender released her emotions in stages of weak gushes of black mist.

The darkness in her fingers retreated from everywhere except her pointed nails, where the black remained. Kieran had to repeatedly stop doing her makeup to blink away her tears. A thundering knock came on the bedroom door. Before Kieran could bellow, go away, the intruder came in. Shockingly, it was Janice Madigan-Desjardins in her work scrubs. Kieran scrunched her brushed eyebrows.

"God, I can feel the tension in here," she commented. Kieran sighed then put down her mascara before even opening it. "I guessed you needed a hand; based solely on Magnolia's exasperation." Janice set her hands on Kieran's shoulders. "You okay?" Kieran only looked away. "Need some help with your hair?" A weak nod was all the medical examiner got. "Do you have hair pins?" Kieran handed the plastic tub over. "You makeup looks gorgeous."

"Thanks," Kieran mumbled, unable to stop her growing grin. Her phone buzzing snuffed Janice's influence off Kieran's face. "It's Anna," the harridan voiced, showing the proctor the photos and selfies. "Casa Loma?"

"It's a museum in Toronto," Janice said, working the comb and pins into the thicket of black curls. "Don't let her fool you, Kieran." The senior nodded weakly. "Just breathe easy and enjoy your night away from the wayward world. Got it?"

"What's going to happen at graduation? When she...?"

Janice saw her look down and droop her phone into her lap. "The woman you met and the thing sending those letters, aren't the same person. I know it can be hard to separate them like that, but..." Kieran's dark eyes pooled with tears, and she tried her best to blink them away subtly but failed. "We'll have proctors all over the school," Janice deflected. "If she's brave enough to attack in front of ordinaries, the sonic emitters will douse out the worst of her senses and we'll move in from there as discreetly as possible."

"If she attacks somewhere quieter?"

"We kill on sight."

Kieran looked at Janice pinning her hair in chaotic directions with a scrunched pensiveness on her expression. "Wha-what if I-I want to kill her?" The medical examiner froze at that then dropped the handful of curls in her hand. "I can't let her go on. Not when Blaine is dead because of us."

"Typical harridan," Janice butted in and continued working. In spite of the glimmer of shock she had initially, there was a playful smile on her face that was identical to both Donnie and Macy. "To quote Faustus Sulla, A harridan’s wrath knows no limits and will result in sheer vengeance against anyone who wrongs them. Kieran, it's only natural you'd feel that way, but you're not a killer. To live with yourself, knowing you did something so ungodly for an ordinary and a wayward? It's one thing to kill for food, it's something else to kill for revenge."

"I'll roast her over a spit. Alive."

"Not how it works," Janice went on. "Ordinaries pass judgement based on evidence, waywards pass judgement on intention. If you were to attack Anna, we'd have no choice but to retaliate against you. Possibly, very possibly, end your life." Kieran's lips parted but she shook her head. "Please don't put me, or Donnie, or James in a position where we'd have to do that."

Janice saw the conflict register on Kieran's face before she pressed the last pin. Kieran didn't look up, not even when Janice started packing up the small mess she made by spilling a few pins on the carpeting. Kieran looked over the photos Anna had sent; still not digesting that the same apple doll-like face was the one and only trickster behind Blaine's death. How Anna comforted her, made her lunch, stood by in-the-know about the 'stalker'. Bile rose in the harridan's throat and clenched her fists tightly.

"All done," Janice concluded chipperly. Kieran looked up to see how the medical examiner had pinned her hair into a faux mohawk. "Need help getting into your dress?" The speckles of black faded and Kieran nodded.

James, meanwhile, had pulled his popcorn machine that was churning corn from the dangling pot inside. Macy was leaning her chin on her folded arms that were resting on the granite top, watching absentmindedly as the popcorn overflowed. The master of the house was setting up his flavoured salts, along with the popcorn buckets. He poked Macy in the ribs, making her giggle. Leaning against the kitchen archway was Donnie.

When Janice came down the grand staircase, she saw Donnie with a flickering, jagged grin and a bead of ice cold sweat on his eyebrow. Macy came trailing after James with their steamy buckets of popcorn. Janice cleared her throat dramatically, halting the first floor. She set foot on the foyer then looked to the top of the stairs. Magnolia too - scrolling through the screen's options - came to spectate Kieran's stiletto platform pumps descend.

Her sweetheart, strapless black evening dress matched Donnie's all-black suit. She laced her fingers together, unable to feel the extent of how clammy they were from the black opera gloves Blaine had picked out. She swallowed hard, looking at the pinewood floor, with Donnie in front of her. His cologne paired well with the scent of his yellow rose boutonniere. Kieran looked to Janice for support, but she only stole a handful of butter popcorn from Macy's bucket.

His cool, minty breath was on her face, showcasing how close they really were. She gave a flickered smirk. "For you, as agreed on," Donnie added, holding up a small bouquet of white peonies. Kieran felt herself relax at the sight of them and gathered the flowers with a budding grin. “You look stunning,” the young proctor stated.

"You look grim," Kieran retaliated, taking in all the black. Macy sniggered while Kieran went to work at straightening his yellow bowtie. "You look dapper, Donnie. Really," she corrected, daring to look him in those hazel eyes.

"I think that's the first time you've said my name."

"Don't get used it."

"Okay, I got my camera," Magnolia bemoaned, as if it were a chore.

Donnie cleared his throat then cupped her waist with an equally clammy hand, making her gasp. Kieran bridled from feeling her date casually slither his arms around her waist more persistently as he stood behind her. He felt her rigid shoulders on his chest, and she felt his warm breath on her ear. Donnie's clammy hands rested over hers that were tightly holding onto her white peonies. She exhaled a fume black, halting Magnolia.

That puff came out like warm breath on a snowy day and vanished just as briskly. Magnolia shook her head and ventured deeper into the house, leaving the family to deal with her daughter. Kieran gave another puff of black, this time it came out like thick smoke through her nostrils. Macy's eyes went wide but, contrastingly, she blew roughly to cut through the dispersing smoke. Donnie squeezed her waist comfortingly, but her capabilities reacted instead.

Macy and Janice's shadows shot projectiles off the wall and cross the foyer into the wall, narrowly missing Donnie and Kieran. The harridan sighed, looking away from the two of them. "I'm sorry," she replied with Donnie in synch. Kieran took another deep breath and her outward breath was unseen.

Janice took her phone and gave a wide smile. "Say 'elephant snot'." Kieran couldn't help the smile that escaped her when the medical examiner's flash went off. Donnie felt her shoulders melt into his chest. "Gorgeous."

Macy too wore a bright grin. Janice's smile faltered when she looked in the direction of the parlor, where Magnolia went to go hide. Macy took the flowers from Kieran but James saw the senior's crestfallen expression return. Macy set the flowers into the vase of water already on standby. Still, Donnie kept his hands on Kieran's waist, and Kieran firmed her hold on his hands. It was brief; she slid out of his hold when she felt Donnie fold against her.

She allowed him to rest her hand in the nook of his elbow as they exited the double doors to be faced with a lavish car with ribbon running down the hood towards the grill. A pearly white Aston Martin convertible was parked the and Kieran tilted her head when Donnie held the door open for her. The Vanquish was sleek, smooth and Blaine's dream car. The black interior merged with Kieran's apparel.

Donnie in the driver's seat was a welcoming change from the Mercedes-Benz pickup truck. He drove at a cruising speed through the residential areas, heading for the country club. Kieran's eyes took in the passing homes; from the high-end mansions on Rosevelt Drive to the homely lane of Fourth. The Vanquish took a light right turn, making Kieran's chest ache. There was a mundanity on this line of homes.

The husbands of Calloway Street, when they weren’t working, were mowing their lawns. The children of southern suburbia, the ones not afraid to be away from their phones, would be outside. Each quaint little Victorian townhouse had that same-shaped lemon tree on the left-hand side of the front yard. The same white paint job with deep dark blue accents; same red door; same length grass; same three recycling bins on the right side of the house.

Beyond that, was open road that to the Pecanwood Country Club that was the picturesque setting in all of New Bristol, with its open-air halls, and easily adaptable spaces. There was a cluster by the Monte Carlo Hall; with deluxe cars and stretch limos and camera flashes. Another breath of black came, and Donnie squeezed her hand, slowing into the parking.

Behind them, a bright red Ferrari revved angrily un the cobblestone valet route. In it was the hired driver with Addison Lillard and Miles Wagner - prom queen and king nominees - and heads spun in their direction. Their attention was overpowered by Donnie aiding Kieran out of the Aston Martin. Gossip ensued but Kieran merely tucked her hand back into his elbow's nook. With her hair pulled back, the extent of Kieran's full cheeks were revealed; showcasing how much she truly looked like Magnolia.

Her heart raced in her chest, something like how it would before a soccer match. Her hold on him tightened. Donnie petted her jittery knuckles with his free hand as they ventured inside Blaine's hard work. The venue was mostly open with just pillars holding up the roof. The surrounding area was drenched in lanterns along the path. There was also a fountain with candles floating in all its sinks before the entrance.

With a stringed quartet in the air, the prom committee certainly outdid itself! Upon walking in, after taking their entry photos, servers stood with flutes with sparkling water, flavoured with watermelon liquor. There was also deejay, with speakers throughout the makeshift hall playing mellow and ambient music that was still easy to dance to. The tables were round with soft pink tablecloths and the chairs were white. The tables were set up away from the space in front of the deejay’s table, which formed the dancefloor.

Donnie looked to Kieran expectantly and took a sip of his flute. "Sitting, or dancing?"

"Food," she declared.

He gave a small laugh with a smirk too. "You know your body only craves ordinary food for the taste, right?"

"You know that's the point of fast-food chains, right," she countered. Donnie stammered but no coherent words came from him. "Food," she groaned.

Kieran divorced from Donnie. He rushed after her, humoured, and Kieran brushing passed her schoolmates towards the tables lined with food. Platters of dessert hors d'oeuvres: floral-decorated mini donuts, berries and chocolate rolled crepes, fruit tartlets, cupcakes; and marshmallows on a stick by the chocolate fountain. Kieran turned to face Donnie with a plate layered with baklava fingers, macaroons and chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Blaine wasn't kidding about that sweet tooth; you're like a kid in a candy store."

"Tell anyone, I'll barbecue you."

"I don't doubt that," he sang.

Kieran slumped into a seat - near the back of the hall, in its shadows - with a view of the entirety of prom. She ignored everything for her sweet eats! Including Donnie. He was watching everyone else go about their evening with a high. He turned to Kieran and her ungraceful devouring. She hummed, smacking her lips but didn't slow down in the slightest. Donnie reached for a stray curl, and she slithered away.

The basketball captain turned to the table that less-than-subtly had a spotlight over it. The prom queen nominee - and the menace of Blaine and Kieran's childhood - Catherine Harto. Her date, Hakeem Jones, was one of Donnie's closest friends on the basketball team. He and Catherine were looking between each other with smiles but jaded stares towards them. "If you want to go, go," Kieran murmured. Donnie looked back to her. "We were bound to be a controversy. Go back to your world."

Donnie shifted his seat closer to take her gloved hand. "That hasn't been my world for a long time," he confessed. "Before we moved here, my father and I watched my mother kill a mongrel. That's when she told me what we are. Then my father told us about his abilities." Kieran licked her top lip with a scrunch in her eyebrows. "He's not classed as a wayward; it doesn't require tapping into your internal energy."

"What was he?"

"An empath; he can sense what people are feeling, and he always knew what to say. He didn't have a problem with me being a proctor, but Macy?" Kieran took in his hazel eyes fill with woe. "One day, we woke up and he was gone. He almost sent my mom into premature labor." Kieran squeezed his hand back. "Little did he know that Macy was more like him."

"What is Macy?"

Donnie gave a weak shrug. "The books call it psionic, but she prefers to call it ventriloquism. She digs into your mind, kind of takes over your body and she can control you, so long as she looks at you to enter."

"Sounds like you had a first-hand experience with it."

"It was the only way to teach her not to be afraid of it." Kieran gave a small smile to him. "What about your father?"

"He has no idea I exist," she admitted. "Apparently." Donnie slid his hand from under her to over it. "Magnolia got pregnant in college, apparently the dude didn't want that; even paid for the abortion. She got an internship at some bio-tech company but it was hard to do with a cannibal baby. Moved back, became a stone-hearted workaholic in a career she hates that she's been doing for almost twenty years. That's literally everything I know about him."

"You're not curious to know more?"

"No."

"But... no even a little?"

"Not in the slightest. I had my grandfather and I thought I had chief Sulkin. I'll just have to make do with James now," she added. "Tell anyone that, I'll--"

"You're Jeffery Dahmer, I get it." Donnie nudged his shoulder into hers playfully. "Look at you, embracing your taste for long pork." Kieran giggled then leaned into him. Over her head, Donnie saw their crowd grew to a few more tables around Catherine and her clique. "We've got an audience."

Kieran huffed then straightened up. She raised her ungloved hand and rippled her fingers. The prom court tables' shadows accumulated against the wall. Kieran flared her fingers and formed a silhouette. "Bear!" The two tables of four each screamed and shriek and jumped away. Kieran dropped her hand to her lap and the shadows returned.

The deejay cut the music while teachers and chaperones began to ridicule the students. Kieran chuckled menacingly and watched Principal Avery and co. yell over the abrupt silence. "Don't do that again," Donnie hissed. Despite the harsh tone, he was trying not to laugh. Kieran scoffed at him. "I'm serious, Rie. You're not supposed to use your capabilities on ordinaries unprovoked."

"They started it."

"They're ordinary teenagers being ordinary. That's their covenant, and mine would be to maim you as warning not to do that again." Kieran looked over Donnie and seeing his humour fade. "I have to ask, don't you feel lonely living in your own little world?"

"Don't you feel powerless living in other people's world?"

He smirked at her. Kieran looked away to slide her glove back on. "Do you have a comeback for everything?"

"Except for intelligence, dark humour, and common sense."

Donnie dared to lace his fingers into Kieran's again and she arched her eyebrow at him. "Wanna dance?"

"With the devil? Sure. With a future Boston Celtic? No."

"It's sad you think I was giving you a choice."

Donnie turned to her who exhaled her disdain and still he offered her his hand. She flung her hand into his coldly, and he led the way to the dancefloor. Needless to say, that there was whispering on their route. Some were surprised. Surprised that the Kieran Arclight was a social function and dressed the part. Others were still raving about the video of her 'sororicide'.

It was getting harder to ignore them, especially when it felt like every laugh; every whisper; every pulled face; and every eye roll was directed to her. She clutched Donnie’s hand tighter and he saw the insecurity register on her face. There - on the outskirts of the dancefloor - he gathered her free hand in his. Donnie rested both her hands on his shoulders before cupping her just under her ribs. It was kind of hard to slow dance to Ed Sheran’s ‘Bad Habits’. Deeper on the dancefloor people were jumping rhythmically to the pounding beat.

Her date wasn’t in favour of eye contact either; he looked everywhere but at the young woman in front of him. Donnie wasn't immune the suggestion either. Every laugh, every look; any and every motion in their direction made him uneasy. "Okay," the proctor caved. "This was a terrible idea. Can we go outside?" Kieran nodded and all too eagerly beelined, leaving Donnie behind.

Throughout the garden were wrought iron benches. Some were in full moonlight and others were in the cold shade. Yet, all the benches had glass lanterns on either side. Their soft light directed the way to away from Ed Sheran's bop. In the clutter of trees was a round birdhouse perched on a tree trunk. The trunk had candles around its base and a brim of white rose petals.

There were so many trees that they formed a small forest. It blended perfectly with all the boundless trees everywhere else on the property. String lights illuminated their blossoms. What would naturally be white light, was now softer if not faintly pink. The leaf vein-like paths ran passed the lake and through the rest of the garden. On the other end of the water was the solarium, covered in vines of jasmine to colour the air with the stringed quartet. Beyond the brightly coloured glass construct were a line of chandeliers overhead, just underneath the canopy of green, white and pink.

Endless blossoms and leaves were hiding the crystals but they were only brightened from the candles that burnt on the chandeliers. Strong trunks with stark white blooms and black leaves. Sparkling from the string lights draped there. The prom committee did phenomenal work with the lively surrounding grounds. On either side of the aisle, guests sat on wrought iron benches. Some had white cushions, black cushions and all had white anemones and dark roses.

"Blaine really went all out for this," Donnie commented.

"Hay fever and all."

Donnie laughed upon their stroll. "Did you see the cupcakes?" Kieran scoffed at the piss-poor yet blatant attempt at copying Blaine's school spirit icing pattern. "D'you remember those honey and lemon ones she used to sell outside the flower shop for a dollar?"

"Unfortunately; she made me sell them with her." Kieran gagged at the memory then looped her arm with his. "The first time we did it was the day you moved to town," Kieran went on. "Your mom was still pregnant, so Blaine lied and said there was a two-for-one deal, so the baby got one too."

"Once upon a time when we were still innocent."

"You know, I helped her draw up her resumé for the bakery, in exchange she made my black forest cupcakes for extra credit in AP French."

"Isn't that German, tough?"

"Yeah, but Beaumont gave me an A-." They walked to the dead end on the cobblestone path. Beyond that was the livelier end of New Bristol Wood. Kieran smiled an unnaturally broad smile and tossed her head back with her eyes closed. "A murk moon," she breathed.

"A what?"

"A full moon where the sky is at its darkest." Donnie furrowed his eyebrows at her permeating form. "I don't know if that's what it is or if it's actually a thing," Kieran confessed. "I just know that I feel the shadows' on the outskirts of the moon's light. It's the darkest darkness I've ever felt."

"You can feel... outer space?"

"I don't think that's what it is, but yes. You know how the moon influences the tide?" Donnie's reply was a silent nod. Kieran didn't desist from basking in the scattered moonlight. "It feels like that; like the dark pushes and pulls on me."

The proctor faced the moon, resting a hand on his date's shoulder. "Oh that. The fact that you can just feel it, is another reason you're such an anomaly."

"Don't call me that."

Kieran pulled away and returned down the lantern-lit path with her heels flexing into the cracks and ruts. Donnie mentally slapped himself before jogging after her. "Poor choice of words. I just mean..."

"There you are, Desjardins," Mr. Burgundy declared. "You're needed inside, now."

Kieran furrowed her eyebrows at her biology teacher and at her escort. Donnie too wore the pulled look of confusion as they re-entered the Monte Carlo Hall. Mr. Burgundy shoved Donnie away from Kieran and towards the raised platform that was drenched in white flowers. On it was Principal Avery, Miles Wagner, Colbalt Dawson, Demarius Johnson Junior and, now, Donovan Desjardins. The music faded out before the principal began with his yawning and void speech.

Kieran gagged then retreated against the wall, unintentionally clustering shadows over the green wall the committee installed. The jasmine too wilted as the flowers in the meadow usually did. Principal Avery called Miles' name and a mild applause followed. Kieran watched him cheer with his plastic gold crown in hand. Jordan Kwon, Adddison Lillard and Catherine Harto. The prom king and his nominees remained on one end of the stage while the girls were squealing among themselves.

Cherelle Whitcomb, as she did with the boys, held up the velvet pillow with the silver tiara of plastic as well as the matching fleur de lis sceptre. Kieran looked away; Blaine would've been up there, glowing like a ray of sunshine in the white and yellow prom two-piece. Instead, she and that lovely garment were buried six feet in the New Bristol Cemetery. Of course, Catherine Harto would be crowned queen; the menace on the lacrosse field had a better part of the school eating out of the palm of her hand. She was seconded only to Blaine.

The music resumed while the nominees and winners merrily being photographed. Kieran meandered through the edges of the dance floor, passing by schoolmates who otherwise wouldn't pay her much attention. Some had let the matter go but others, Logan chief among them, would have recoil painted all over their faces. The harridan kept her head down while drifting away from the rush. She exhaled a puff of black and her eyes stretched wide.

Kieran cleared her throat, looking around then cupped her arms and inhaled deeply. The harridan squared her shoulders before letting out a heavy sigh that was unseen. Her heart was rapidly racing in her chest and her eyes were darting over everything in around her before she hugged herself tighter. Even with gloves on, Kieran could feel her fingers blackening. She gave a series of deep breaths, feeling the calm return, although her heart still raced.

She dropped her arms back to her side and rolled out her neck and nodded surely to herself. "Look what Jack Torrance dragged in," Catherine purred. Kieran rolled her eyes before facing the lacrosse attacker. "What brings you out from the grave, retard?"

Kieran looked to the platform where Donnie and everyone else except Principal Avery had left. She flared her nostrils and the veins around her eyes began to tint. Catherine purred a laugh and held up her flute of watermelon liquor-sparkling water, swirling it suggestively. Her other hand had a firm grip on Kieran's wrist as she poured out her drink. Visible to Catherine's hardened light brown eyes the stain spread down the front of the dress. Right on the neckline, black studs were running across and damaging from the sparkling drink.

The prom queen pouted watching, Kieran's eyes point down to her chest. A tremble filled her hands that clenched so tightly, the black mist squeezed out. "Cry," Catherine ordered lowly, leaning in. "I hope that's not a rental."

Catherine's smirk vanished when she saw the tendrils escape her prey. She pulled back with her overly plucked eyebrows pushing together. Kieran lifted her head, revealing the fully-consumed black eyes. The prom queen stepped away with the hall getting noticeably darker around them. Kieran crept closer to the red glittered mermaid gown. The darkness spread throughout the Monte Carlo Hall.

Among a few of the basketball team's horde was its captain with his hands in his pants' pockets. He rolled his eyes at the Cheurfa twins' banter and those hazel eyes settled on the dessert hors d'oeuvres' table. The gloom was spreading and spreading fast. He looked around but Miles and his crown-wielding hand blocked his view. Donnie slipped away from the group, ignoring their hollering. He squirmed across the dancefloor, scanning everywhere. The students, teachers and the bundle of parents started noticing the growing dim.

Catherine whimpered stepping further away from Kieran who didn't desist. The harridan held up her hands, gathering the shadows towards her and gaining attention from students. Blasts shot upwards snuffing out the lights on the vine-coated chandeliers. Lightbulbs burst from the cold shadows on them. Kieran gained eyes from more people seeing the dark magnetise towards her. Donnie among them.

The shadows hunched over Kieran like a tidal wave, the scattering students who weren't brave enough to stand put and start filming. Donnie shoved through the crowd and passed recording students. The wave of shadows narrowed to a jagged blade. Catherine stammered away but the black-eyed Kieran tilted her head. The blade struck. Donnie slashed through it! The iron knife was arched in front of him as he squared off with Kieran.

The harridan flared her fingers which snuffed out the light completely. "Kieran," Donnie bellowed. "Look at me." Despite the lack of visible irises, he could tell she didn't. "Don't make me hurt you." Kieran smote a hand and a tail of black shot him across the dancefloor.

Catherine screamed and took off, creating a panic. Students shoved and stampeded to get out with another growing wave of black filling the grand hall. All the flowers wilted; on the tables, on the walls, the platform, the bouquets in tall vases scattered around the room. They all went brown like their leaves and stems. The teachers - failing at maintaining order - were equally awestruck by one of their more promising students' lashing out. Most were too terrified to try and bolted among their students.

Donnie crawled across the hall, knife at the ready with Mr. Gravely at his side. The basketball coach ran with his captain towards the harridan. Kieran held her hand out. Mr. Gravely took the battering ram of black while Donnie persisted. He wrapped his arms around her. He pressed the length of his blade into her shoulder. The burn ran down the length of her spine. Kieran went weak in the knees, moaning her defeat.

"Calm down," the proctor ordered. "Deep breaths," he whispered into the quivering frame. Kieran's black eyes narrowed on Catherine with Mr. Gravely standing defensively in front of her. The harridan clenched her fist. She sighed but her fists wrapped around the muscular frame. The black receded in her eyes. "Hold it together."

"I'm back," she murmured but she still scowled at Catherine's pallid face. "Tell me I at least scared the shit out of Harto."

"The entire hall, actually." Kieran shrugged with a chuffed hum. She was still shaking in Donnie's hold and tightened her hold on him. Kieran only watched Mr. Gravely escort Catherine out, leaving her tiara and staff behind. "Let’s get out of here.” She nodded.

Kieran first tightened her hold on him as the last of the darkness sailed away from them. Donnie's hands were on her waist, feeling the tips of her curls brush on his fingers. She felt him pat her lower back before she pulled away. Donnie ran his fingers under her chin before taking his jacket off. Kieran hummed feeling his warmth still on her, along with his cologne.

"What happens now," she murmured. "They all saw..."

Donnie shrugged nonchalantly as he shifted for the doors and Kieran clung close to him. "Nobody got hurt directly, and there isn't really protocol for exposing the wayward world. Waywards choose to keep secret because of historical persecution." Kieran picked up the silver tiara, smugly. "The rest of New Bristol and the Internet is a different story."

Kieran huffed the last of her blackened breath as they exited to a crowd of uneasy schoolmates and teachers and country club staff. She squared her shoulders, looking to Catherine half hiding behind Mr. Gravely. The plastic silver in her hands filled with darkness, going black. She tossed it into Catherine's hold. "Long may you reign." Kieran looked ahead modelling down the front stairs towards the Vanquish with Donnie at her side.

Donnie sped off leaving the appalled prom in his wake, along with chief Sulkin's distinct cruiser and back up blaring towards the venue. Kieran threw her head back with the jet wash blasting on her face. Donnie drove like a lunatic, skipping red lights and swerving harshly on turns. Leaving a trail behind them was dissipating shadows. The driving time was cut to a fraction of the size from reckless joyriding.

He only slowed down when he went off road and cruised over uneven terrain towards the beech tree. Kieran leaned her head against the dashboard with a defeated sigh. Donnie pet her shoulder reassuringly but didn't say anything. The harridan stripped off the gloves to find black over her hands still. She left him there; meandering towards the little stone house with crickets filling the woods. The evening's low visibility was snuffed by the solar powered lanterns a thirteen-year-old Kieran helped pick out.

Kieran unlocked the grey wall, finding another beldam letter taped to it. She grabbed it but let herself inside, finding the homey little square. The dark was nothing to her; having no impact on her sight. She sat on the deluxe down-feathered bedspread and sunk into it as she kicked off her heels, breathing in the heavy dust but the old-lady-smell left behind was new, although it was Doreen's trademark odor. Donnie's footsteps into the homestead were heavy but slow.

Kieran unfolded the letter and felt Donnie's shoulder brush against her. "My favourite, most beloved dolly, I cannot express how beautiful you looked on your prom night. I imagine by the time you read this, you will be preparing for graduation. I'll be watching. Mommy."

"That night vision thing is kind of cool," Donnie commented before turning on his phone's torch. In his hand his phone buzzed with rapid notifications, as it did throughout their drive. "Logan posted you on YouTube." Kieran tossed the letter aside to see the video of her in stasis, gaining momentum in views.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Nobody's going to believe it's real," he stated and opened the comments. “The Internet is wonderful place. See."

Donnie handed his phone to Kieran with a warm smirk. Kieran scanned through the comments, reading each one carefully. It varied from anything like what movie is this? to comments like this looks so real! One person had written, whoever filmed this clearly isn’t a pro. The way the camera is bouncing around and just from the overall angle. I hope whoever did the CGI finds someone who is equally talented with a camera as they are. Also, who’s the actress? Freaking beautiful + super scary. Good job!

“Most of the videos of real capability on the Internet have similar reactions. People won’t believe it’s real, if they have no reason to.” Kieran sighed a weak relief then hunched forward. "Kieran Arclight," Donnie called with music starting to play from his phone, "will you dance with me? For real, this time." The volume on is phone turned up when she gave pouting nod.

Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars started filling the cottage. Kieran cleared her throat awkwardly when Donnie dared to get closer. With her eyes still beyond date, she too stepped closer to him. A hummed, short chuckle came from the proctor when his clammy palms trailed a little lower. The harridan only pursed her lips and continued scanning passed his shoulder. Slowly his sweaty, shaky hands sailed down to the curve between Kieran’s waist and hips.

Donnie laced his fingers around Ridley’s lower back and leaned his head against hers. She pursed her lips then rested her chin on his chest. Without her four-inch platforms, Donovan's 1.88 meter height left her below his chin. Her arms only just managed to link around his neck. His hold around her waist began firmer when he felt her melt into his chest. The buttons on his black shirt pressed into the side of her face but it didn't take away from their moment.

The cottage's darkness too had a warmth to it and swirled around them in spirals that circled them. In Donnie saw the circle around them take on intricate patterns. Upon closer inspection, the details were vines and trees, interlinked, with leaves and little blooms in them. The mandala spread across the entire floor and over the cobweb-coated skirting. He looked down to Kieran's airy gait. She looked up at him and hummed before resting her head back on his chest.

Kieran looked towards the ajar door; the only door in the cottage. The song hadn't reached its bridge yet when she pulled away unexpectedly. Her tunnel vision made her harden. "Do you hear that?" Donnie reached to pause Bruno Mars, only to be met with chirping crickets. "It's like buzzing." Kieran narrowed her eyes at the door. She wheezed, hunching forward.

Donnie reached for her but Kieran let out a screech and fell to her knees. Her talons were pressed into her ears. She screamed with tears falling. Blood started dripping from her ears. Donnie looked around frantically. He made for the door but the cottage filled with Kieran's panting. He rushed back to her side, sliding to his knees. The light from his phone on the bed showed the blood pouring more persistently from her ears.

"It's okay," the proctor whispered, tugging his yellow pocket square from his jacket that she still wore. "It's just James' sonic emitters. The sound is painful to wayward ears and will drive them away. He must've set them up in case Anna showed up." He pressed the handkerchief just under her ear. "But..." Donnie shook his head, earning her attention. "They shouldn't go off; he had them set to recognise your capabilities." Kieran narrowed her eyes at the door. "Rie..."

"She killed Blaine."

Kieran shoved Donnie off her. "If the emitters went off, then James is on his way."

She ignored him, marching for the door. The mandala whooshed into a trail that dragged across the untiled floor like nails running down a chalkboard. Outside, in the light of the garden's lanterns, Kieran saw the distinct gorilla-like silhouette she saw on the surveillance footage of that night. The beldam - though hidden by shrubs in the distance - was well within the harridan's sights. Unlike a gorilla, she was extraordinarily skinny. Like the bones were only held together by the dark skin.

Kieran left the shadows to spread right up her arm during their stand-off. The beldam tilted her head with a smirk. Despite seeing her features, Kieran couldn't make out Anna's face. An inhuman growled escaped the senior. The blackness swirled all over her. They drowned out the towering Donnie behind her. The harridan flared out her arms! An armada of glistening projectiles fired at the creature. One moment she was there, the next the gorilla figure was gone.

"Is that any way to greet your mother," the voice asked, seemingly coming from everywhere.

She was fast as she was silent; her haughty laugh came from every direction all at once as she taunted her prey. Kieran, however, was taken aback. "That's not Anna's voice," Donnie pointed out, hearing it wasn't the housekeeper even through her distortion. Kieran's eyes filled with tears as she tried to follow the laugh. It echoed off the cluster of trees on her right. "Rie?"

Kieran frantically looked around, trying to pin down the beldam that stopped laughing. Donnie grunted before flying into the trees a ways from the cottage. "S-stop," the harridan ordered weakly. "You're not her."

"My precious, little wildflower," the beldam sang. "Mommy's here. Don't you recognise me," she added, stepping into plain view.

The defender hurled a ball of her signature mist at that damned face. The beldam raised a claw, slashing through it. Donnie saw Kieran's black tears catch the light and shape her full cheeks. The hunched woman knuckle-walking closer struck fear into the dark brown-almost-black eyes in front of her. The thick-as-thatch hair was clustered upwards and unnatural ear-to-ear grin on her face. A face Kieran knew all too well.

"How can Magnolia call herself her mother, when I took care of you for a better part of your life," Doreen inquired. Kieran shot another black ball at her grandmother, sobbing. She fell to her knees, looking away. "I made your favourite."

Donnie flung his knife at her. Doreen leaped to her hind legs and stammered backwards. In a ghostly blur, she was gone. A Tupperware filled with the scent of buttery cinnamon hit the dewy grass in front of her. Doreen's famous butter fingers... long pork fingers... ten in all, were in front of her. The beldam's shriek ripped through the trees. Kieran looked up to see her disproportionately long arms fling and thrash whilst trying to grab the knife.

The basketball captain let out a battle cry before he rugby tackled her aside. Doreen grabbed his ankle and stood on her hind legs, revealing how easily she towered over him and the cottage! Donnie shoved his Converse into her engorged jaw. He swung himself around her. He tore the knife from her ribs. Doreen bucked like horse, roaring, and Donnie stabbed at her endlessly. Doreen threw herself to the ground, slamming him to the ground.

Kieran shrieked over their lashing exchange. The shade around her drew outwards into jagged wings. She growled loudly, whipping her head up. Abyssal, emotionless eyes looked to them both. The shaking young woman bared her jagged canines and incisors. Upon flaring her makeshift wings, they had a hint of iridescence and were clawed like a bat’s. Doreen and Donnie were frozen with bewilderment from her display.

Rigid arms stretched out with her fingers curled in and the shadows responded by solidifying. Doreen flicked her wrist. The grass underfoot jerked Donnie off her. Kieran snarled at that. Doreen stood on her hind legs again, squishing Donnie under her weight. You have great powers, doll, the beldam signed. She pressed her foot harder on Donnie, making him wheeze. There's so much more Mommy can teach you. Come away with me. Kieran only tilted her head.

Kieran flared her fingers and hurled obsidian shards at Doreen. Doreen ripped bark off the trees to shield her. Kieran rapidly hurled blasts of balls at the beldam. In hand with that, her wings shot projectiles too. Doreen tore chucks of tree trunks, boulders, even parts of the treetops as her countermeasures. Kieran charged with shadows encapsulating around them, both. Kieran pranced with a wave of projectiles coming from behind her. Doreen smote a boulder from near the Aston Martin and threw it.

Donnie gnawed at Doreen's firm foot, only for the old woman to stomp him into the dirt. Kieran rolled across the cottage's makeshift garden. She rolled to face the hunched woman. Looking closer at Doreen, her lips curve upward which give her a permanent snarling expression. Sharp teeth, snake-like wide-opening jaws; Doreen was unrecognisable! Gone was her harridan ability to manipulate fire, too.

The young harridan stretched out her hand out and coiled the shadows behind Doreen began to form. A scorpion tail-like hardened shadow arched over her. Too distracted by pounding Donnie with a hind leg. A blinding light made the shadow puppet and its puppeteer wither. The roar of James' red BMW was snuffed by him ramming right into Doreen. Donnie groaning was the only indication James had that he was there.

Janice threw a knife - identical to Donnie's - at the knuckle-walking form. Donnie tiredly crawled out from under the car. James helped pull him out while watching his twin square off against the gargantuan humanoid gorilla. Janice unearthed her belt that flexed into a sword. Black eyes watched as Kieran stood up. She held a hand up to her face, gathering gushing darkness. A matching sword formed in her hand.

She fired it, nailing Janice into a tree. Doreen's Joker grin turned on her. Kieran shot more projectiles at James and Donnie. James was pressed into the hood of his car and Donnie was stabbed in the shoulder, stammering to the dirt. Kieran stalked to the behemoth, feeling the stasis fade from the car's light. Kieran blinked off the daze, catching her breath. Despite her staggering pants, the harridan continued to the beldam.

You're more like me than you're willing to admit. Kieran smote her hand whilst starting to circle the perimeter as Doreen did. Thick, hard shadows corralled around them both. I can teach you to be more powerful, I can show you how to bend life, itself, to your will. It can be like the old days, just you and me. Kieran glanced at the trio of proctors before looking back to her grandmother.

Doreen came back onto her knuckles, tilting her heavy grinned face at her granddaughter. A prehensile tongue ran over her lips when she sniffed in Donnie's direction. The musk from his blood made her mouth water. She took a meek step towards him. The corral went pitch-forked. A hoarse laugh came from the fanged mouth. She thumped back to face Kieran and the darkness radiating off her.

"My lost, little lamb, that treacherous girl you think you love; we both know you were star-crossed from the beginning. Like I said all those years ago, 'Jesus was friends with Judas', no?" Kieran said nothing and narrowed her eyes. "You have tremendous power. A power I gave you, which is why you should've been my daughter. Not that nightmare blank. If my mother or grandmother ever met Magnolia, they would have put her in the Christmas stew. But you? You put us all to shame."

"That's so sweet," Kieran murmured. "And you're right. Blaine and I were bound to break, but you..." If it were possible, Doreen's never-ending grin broadened. "You were my constant." Kieran dropped her hold on the shadows and looked down to her ruined dress. "Let's go. Anywhere but here."

"Anywhere but Princeton," Doreen corrected.

"No," Donnie bellowed. Kieran forced him back with the remnants of her barricade. "Rie..."

Kieran walked off with the gorilla of her grandmother following behind her. Donnie sprinted! Janice nicked his arm with the tip of her sword. Her other arm was pressed into James' chest to stop him too. The lights from James' car contoured the rolling darkness at the waywards' ankles. Janice lowered her arms, watching as an irregularly shaped hand form. The longer digits snatched at the beldam, latching onto her limbs. The headlights showed Kieran facing Doreen as the latter lurched to be free.

Janice arched her sword. Donnie drew his knife. James unsheathed an iron machete. The family charged! Kieran held up a hand. A cage of blackness encased them. She kept her left hand towards them; reinforcing the umbra from the iron breaking through. The harridan firmed her right hand, restraining the beldam to a point where Doreen's jerks were reduced to strained flinches as she suffocated. Kieran brought the old woman down to eye level.

"Kieran, don't!"

"If you want to kill me then kill me, doc," the harridan stated.

"Rie, please!"

"She doesn't have the balls," Doreen stated. "Deep down, you know I'm the only one who will ever understand. Look how you handled the last few months without me. Since my 'death', you've needed to let it out more frequently. Setting your house on fire was just to show you how little you can trust Magnolia," Doreen hissed. Kieran eyes went wide. "What? You think you did it? Oh, my doll, do you see how gullible you are? You still need me."

Kieran bared her teeth with her lip twitching from her snarled. "Kieran, no!" She ripped Doreen's throat clean out! The harridan spat out the mouthful of flesh and esophagus, looking back. Doreen's soggy gurgles and yelps were paired with blood squirting out, and the proctors unable to do anything more than watch. Doreen's eyes were wide and blinking chaotically at her granddaughter.

"You killed Blaine."

Kieran dropped her hands, releasing the proctors and Doreen's wriggling form. Donnie rushed to her side, squaring off with his mother and uncle. "Stay back," he declared. Kieran ignored them for the life leaving Doreen's eyes. "Please don't touch her." Kieran arched her chin in spite of the tears pouring out of her.

"This's a messed-up family," Janice mentioned. The medical examiner faced her brother. "One under your personal protection. If we're going against the rules, then what happens to Kieran is up to you."

The harridan turned her head towards then. James didn't look at her - from Janice - until he spoke: "can't execute someone for the death of someone who was already dead."

Donnie pulled her to his chest, swallowing her in his hold. Kieran relaxed in his chest - both of them shaking from the adrenaline - and Donnie looked over her crown at the nearly decapitated inhuman corpse behind her. "I'm sorry it was her." Kieran only nestled deeper into his chest. "What happens now," the senior directed to his mother and uncle.

"Silence of the Lambs, anyone?"