The Faerie Slayer

I closed the book after rereading that second page. I had shivers that warred the surface of my skin and had the sudden urge to google the author. I typed in Robert Schmidt into the search bar and stumbled into a whirlwind of hundreds of people by the same name. Nobody that stood out of course until finally I was on the third page of results and I seen an image of the books cover.

I was brisk to click on it and read the four sentence paragraph associated with the name.

Robert Schmidt was an Ohio-born writer who graduated from The Ohio State University with an M.A in philosophy. He was best known for his work; How to kill Seven Ghosts With One Stone. Robert Schmidt was diagnosed with severe schizoaffective disorder at the early age of twelve. He later died in a tragic swimming accident in 1982.

There was no picture of what the man looked like, no other explanation or words to shed some further light. I browsed the web for half an hour more but came up empty to closure. I gave up the impossible task and browsed through my closet for what to wear tonight. The Snake Pit was a coffee lounge that transferred into a club when the sun went down. The crowd slowly shifts from struggling students of the arts college goers and their laptops to a grouchy, heavy metal music type of mob. I have only been there twice and both times I had come out without either my phone or wallet. I put on a pair of distressed black shorts as the weather had warmed up just the slightest bit as we neared the summer time. I paired it with a charcoal grey short sleeve crop top that had the logo of a band that I had never listened to before on the chest area. I brushed my hair and put on some mascara and eyeliner and and on my feet I wore sneakers. When I observed myself in the mirror, the bruises were still far too visible. I changed into jeans and headed out. On my porch as if he was just arriving was Ben.

"What are you doing back here?" I asked.He was at a loss for words at first. He stared at me as if he couldn't recognize me," Ben, what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, you just look so good," he was still slightly wide-eyed and wide-mouthed,"Did your boobs grow overnight?"

"Shut up,Ben."

"It's a compliment!"

"Thanks," I pushed past him and walked down the porch," why did you come back though? Shouldn't we be meeting at Boerum Hill?"

"I wanted to take you there, like a gentlemen," I peered at his outfit for the first time. He looked good, more dressed up then usual for Ben. I could tell that he'd put in some effort into his choice of clothing. He wore a grey and white button up shirt that was draped over a fresh pair of black jeans. His sneakers were either new or he'd finally cleaned them.

"You look really good too," I suddenly sniffed the air as he grew closer on our walk to the metro station," oh my god, is that cologne?"

"Shut up," he groaned and I suddenly wondered what triggered this sudden shift.

"Did your dad call?"

"No, stop asking."

"Jeez, alright."

We took a couple trains down to Boerum Hill and walked a mile out to The Snake Pit. We had heard the raging of the music whilst we were still a whole half a mile away. I texted Caleb that I had just arrived and he said that he would be in soon. Inside, we scavenged through the mob of drunk twenty somethings at the door and made it inside. We were pushing past dozens of people, it was too dark to distinguish any faces and far too loud to make clear of ones own thoughts.

"Where's Matt's band?" I screamed out but Ben mouthed,"what?"

"Where is Matt's band!?" I repeated even louder then before. Already I began to feel aching in my throat.

"They're in the back!"

We smushed ourselves through sweaty bodies on our way to the bar and I felt my arm scratch on someone's sharp metal jewelry.

"Crap," I mumbled and held the wound that had began to bleed. Ben pulled me aside and inspected it. He grabbed a napkin from the nearby bar table and clutched it against my arm.

"Go wash it in the bathroom!" He hurled," I'll find a bandaid and meet you there!"

"Okay!"

I struggled to get to the other side of the dimly lit club. There wasn't much space as the edges of the walls were all used up to store the daytime coffee tables and chairs against. When I finally made it, I waited for five minutes in line and inside the bathroom reeked off smoke and something rotten. Two girls were stationed by the stalls taking pictures of each other.

I turned the faucet to the coldest setting and winced when the water hit the wound. Through the reflection of the mirror I noticed that the girls were now facing me, giggling into the ears of one another and pointing.

"I can see you," I mumbled, staring at them through the mirror.

"So?" the one with the dark blue hair responded.

"So, I can see you talking about me."

"Does it hurt your feelings?" This time it was the taller one with the mossy bob.

"It's just a crappy thing to do. At least do it in private, not where I can clearly see and hear you."

They rolled their eyes and proceeded with their photos. I rolled mine too and exited, not being able to stand the smell any longer. Back inside of the club, I was triggered with the annoyance that the interaction had burdened me with, I was vexed and felt as if I hadn't been mean enough to those girls. I had more to say, I thought to myself. I was darting down the hallway in an angry strut not realizing that I was heading straight for someone's chest. It hit me like a ton of brick and it must have been the hardest chest that I had ever walked into.

"I'm sorry, are you alright?" The culprit bore a deep sensual voice that reeked of masculinity.

I didn't have the will to look up to acknowledge the tall stranger made of iron, all that I was able to make out to identify the man is a bare muscular arm covered in tribal tattoo art.

"Great, now my face is bruised too," I replied with a hint of passive aggression and pushed away, hurriedly in search of Ben. I found him at the bar still, trying to flag the bartender down.

"I need a bandaid," he was yelling," band-aid!"

"It stopped bleeding it's fine," I assured him when I had finally made it back. He took a look for himself.

"Did you see Caleb?"

"No, is he here?"

"He just went looking for you."

"Crap," I mumbled and began to peer around for him.

"You look pissed."

"I am pissed. There were some stupid girls in the bathroom."

"What did they do?"

"Forget it. Matt's band is up."

Just as Matt and his buddies; I recognized one as Michael, took over the stage, I felt a hand in my shoulder that made me jump. I turned to face Caleb and felt the anger I harboured drifting away.

"You made it," I said with a smile wider then I intended for it to be.

"What?" I couldn't hear him but I could understand his lips.

"Nothing."

"Thank you everyone for coming out," Matt's screechy voice sounded like glass,"this is a song I wrote last night. I was sitting all alone in my room when I realized that the moon was shaped kinda weird."

Immediately, I couldn't help but scowl.

"I titled this song Weird-Ass Moon. I hope y'all enjoy!"

The song went on and surprisingly it wasn't terrible. Of course if you steered your attention away from the lyrics and the instruments and focused on the overall experience. Maybe it helped that sometime during the song, Caleb had snuck a protective grip around my waist and pulled me close. He smelt like swamp water and perfume. We jammed out to a couple more of their songs. Ben seemed overly proud of his friend once more and his smile made me smile. I still wondered what it was that he was meaning to tell me. It seemed as if every time he'd tried he'd either choke or fall short due to an intrusion.

Matt's band was finally done after a total of three songs that all collectively made absolutely no sense.

"Thank you for letting us rock out tonight!" He screamed amongst the cheers and the chaos," make sure to follow us on instagram at Three Headed Dragon!"

There was then a next band and a next band. We hung out for most of the night at the back on a table where the 'vip's' were who consisted of band members, their friends and groupies. I was watching with amusement as Matt smoked a cigarette, on his lap was one of the girls from the bathroom from earlier, the blue haired one. Every little while she'd sneak a glance at me and wonder when I would ever get up and force Matt to kick her out. I was going to do no such thing, I was in far too good of a mood and Caleb had not only kissed me twice but referred to me as his girlfriend when he'd ordered me a drink.

Back at the bar now, the music was just a little less blaring.

"Ben said that you had an insane story to tell me," he began," about why you missed school today?"

"You wouldn't believe me, he hardly did."

"Come on, I wanna hear it!"

"Alright, alright."

I recited everything to Caleb that I had told Ben previously. I told him about the giant murderous fiction-like snake that had an attempt at my life. I explained about the big black wolf that was seen on the news that had rescued me. I mentioned again that I could have sworn that he would never have hurt me, that the creature was my saviour.

Caleb was most intrigued by the wolf.

"He saved your life, you say?"

I nodded," I promise he did. It was the way he looked at me, like to say run. If he hadn't been there, I don't think I would have made it."

"Have you seen this wolf before? Or again after the incident."

"Just on the news. Im afraid that they will kill it."

"Nothing can kill those things," he seemed to hiss bitterly.

"I hope not," I mumbled, suddenly vigilant to his shift of mood.

"Have you read some more of the book I gave you?"

"I read a few more pages today."

"Do you want to come outside with me for a smoke?" Caleb said suddenly into my ears.

I nodded, having lost most of my voice already. He grabbed my hand and led me outside of the club part the crowd that seemed to half solidify into one. We walked about a quarter mile out away from the dozens of teens that lingered around the entrance. He lit his cigarette and I thought that now would be the perfect time to tell him that I would accept him no matter what, but when I opened my mouth to say it, what came out instead was," child of the star? Fey people?"

He smirked,"you're still on the first chapter?"

"Of course I am. It says that people are born on the stars? That they're special?"

"Something like that."

"I'm trying to understand but I feel even more confused then before."

"You have to finish the entire thing first, Abby."

"Well it doesn't matter, because I made my decision. I don't care that you're chlorokinetic or whatever-"

He suddenly laughed out loud,"chlorokinetic? Is that what you think?"

"Aren't you?"

"Amongst other things," he shrugged.

"If you're worried that I'd leave you, or freak out and run off or can't handle it, don't be. I'm all in Caleb, show me more," I placed both hands on either shoulders. He seemed to think about it first and then, he slowly placed one of my palms against the trunk of the tree on his side.

"Sometimes, you have to be open to the idea that the human race is not the only race that exists," he began," there are-what you would call them-creatures who live amongst us, who belong to something different."

"Their from the stars?"

"Not all, but some like myself."

My hand atop the timber skin of the tree began to glow with fluorescent light. I let out a slight gasp. Increasing wind suddenly played with my hair and blew at my face. A small red bird had just landed on one of my finger tips. I wanted to move my hand but it was as if I had forgotten how to.

Caleb was studying my face as if calculating how much I could handle. I took a deep breath and said," keep going."

"Alright," he said," I'm running out of time so I might as well."

"Running out of time?"

"Watch the baby bird," he said and I obeyed with silence. Suddenly, the creature began to slam itself into the side of the tree over and over again.

"What's happening?" I said to a seemingly unfazed Caleb," why is it doing that?"

"I'm telling it to, well, I'm making it."

I watched with horror as the bird continued to thrust it's body face first into the solid surface.

"Is it trying to die?" I tried to grasp ahold of the bird but I couldn't. My right hand was no longer fluorescent," Caleb, make it stop, please."

It almost was as if I had lost Caleb. A wicked gleam in his eyes triggered me with fear. His focus was at the baby bird that was self inducing harm. He was lost in his glamour of torment.

"Caleb stop it I'm serious!" I watched with horror as the bird began to bleed. As he grew tired, he slowed down and I was finally able to grab him. In my grasp it struggled and threw itself against the walls of my palm. I had no idea what to do with the little injured creature.

"It's dying Caleb," my voice quivered. I was on the verge of a sob now," we have to get help!"

I felt the birds snout begin to tear at my skin now as it continued with the attempts to kill itself. My palms were now a puddle of mixed blood and feathers. Caleb had snapped out of his trance and was on a ramble of word vomit.

"I just get carried away sometimes," he was saying," it's just a bird. There are millions more-"

I could no longer stand the pain of the birds sharp snout. I released it from my grip and it fell straight onto the pavement ground. I kneeled and wiped my bloody hands on the grass. I peered at the little still creature. It was unmoving, completely still, black eyes wide open.

"It's dead," I mumbled and let Caleb help me up.

I looked into his eyes and could not find that he was truly devastated like I was. I'd always been a lover of animals but to not bear any emotion at all was cruel.

"I knew this would be to much," he said.

It wouldn't had you not just killed a bird, and then seemed so satisfied about it, I thought.

Instead I said," I think I need a break, to take this all in."

"I didn't mean to kill it. I'm still trying to figure it out myself-"

"Maybe I'll do some more reading and I'll understand more," the truth was that at this very second I was scared of Caleb. I was driven by fear and needed nothing more then to apply some distance between the both of us. I turned to walk away but his hand on my elbow stopped me.

"Aubrette, wait-"

"Stop calling me that, Caleb."

He didn't loosen his grip. Instead he said," I hope you come to terms with this quickly so we can move on and I can explain to you why I chose you to show this to."

What? Chose me?