Conversations 11 - Cover

Conversations 11

by SleeperyJim

Copyright© 2020 by SleeperyJim

Drama Story: That time of year - pumpkins, candy, children in costume and favourite stories. (A story I posted last year on another site.)

Tags: Ma/Fa   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Mystery   Paranormal   Cheating  

A little fluff piece for Halloween. No sex, but enjoy anyway.

“Hey kids, grab a handful of sweets, and I’ll tell you the story of how this house is haunted, okay?”

The five looked at me with various levels of scorn and cynicism.

“Your house ain’t haunted!” averred one bright little chap, who seemed to perfectly fit the profile of a youngster in training to live at Her Majesty’s Pleasure. His hair, shorn down next to his skull and seemingly right onto it in several places, made him look like a baby monkey. His face seemed set on proving it.

“Indeed it is,” I said. “But if you don’t want to know the story...”

I was watching the skinny twelve year old girl, who was clutching the hand of her little sister, Carrie. Bethany was white, and her half sister was black, but I never asked. Bethany was a terminally curious little thing, and if any of them were going to want the story, she would. She was the daughter of one of my neighbours, but as I never liked having my friends live on top of me, I hadn’t made friends in the neighbourhood and her family and mine didn’t really mix socially. I was a private kind of guy, and the thought of people popping around at any time of the day or night with no warning was not my cup of tea at all. So I never went out of my way.

My daughters, Katie and Nicola – who, as always on Halloween, were with my parents for their Spook Party, a ten year tradition – were the socialites in our family, but they were too old for Bethany. Still, she’d ring my doorbell now and again as she worked her way up and down the street, always with Carrie at her side; selling flowers, or those magazines that advertise for salespeople in the back of comics, or Girl Scout cookies or, specific to me, just to see if they could take my dog for a walk. I know she’s kinda nosy – curious because I’m something of a recluse – but I can’t help liking her. Any kid working that hard for a little pocket money is either dedicated, greedy, or someone whose parents can’t afford to give her the things that kids like in life. Which one doesn’t matter to me, I have way more than enough cash to be able to give her some now and then, and she works so hard she deserves it.

“How is your house haunted?” she asked after a long moment, pushing on the frame of her spectacles above her nose to situate them more firmly in place. It was a habit she followed when she was thinking.

Gotcha, I thought.

“Why don’t you all take another handful of sweets from the bucket to hold you through the story,” I said, waving at the large plastic bin that I filled up every Halloween. “And take a seat. I know it’ll put you behind on your schedule, but you know Mrs Halliday next door always turns her lights off and pretends to be out, hiding away from you. So if you don’t try her house, waiting for her to answer her door – and she never will – you’ll be back on schedule.”

They all turned and looked accusingly at my neighbour’s house, dark and quiet in the late twilight and looking for all the world like it had been empty for weeks. Nasty old skinflint, she was.

“Who’s that?” Bethany asked, pointing behind me.

“She’s an acquaintance of mine. Her name’s Wendy.”

My ex-wife joined me at the door.

“Is she your girlfriend?” the little girl asked with a touch of jealousy in her eyes. I think she considered me her property – although purely on the level of what-can-I-get-out-of-him.

Wendy sniggered. I said, “No, Beth. Not anymore. We used to be married though.”

“Like my mum and dad,” piped up the apprentice villain.

“And mine. And Carrie’s too,” said Bethany sadly. Then she brightened up. “But Mum reckons I’ll get a new Dad soon. She’s out looking for one at the moment, down at the club with my Auntie Jean.”

That explained the absence of parents overseeing this little group. It also explained the contrasting pigmentation of the two sisters.

“So what’s this story then, mister?”

“Ah yes,” I said. “The ghost of this house. Well, a long time ago, there was a handsome young blacksmith who was married to a beautiful lady and they both lived in this very house. They were in love and very happy.”

There was a puking noise from the region of our local Artemis Fowl.

Bethany folded up a compliant Carrie and sat her on the grass near the front steps where I was sitting, and then went from standing to sitting cross-legged alongside her sister in one graceful movement. Kids – amazingly supple.

“They both worked very, very hard and were saving up their gold so they could go and see the Fairy Queen to ask for a baby of their own that they could love.

“But!” I made them jump by raising the volume on that word. A cheap trick, but who cares? They were kids, not anonymous critics. “But there was an evil wizard nearby who lurked in a deep dark cave down by the river, who saw the beautiful girl one day and decided he wanted her for his own. He sent out his spies – nasty little spiders who lurked in holes and in webs high in the trees nearby – to find out everything about her. And when he discovered how happy she was with her husband and how much in love they were with each other, he knew he would have to use his evil magic to wreak his will upon her.

“He enchanted his tongue using the eyes and heart of a snake, and covered up his ugliness using the hide he had skinned from a unicorn...”

The two silent twins, two little copper topped girls who I’d never seen apart, looked stricken at that – their eyes growing huge and damp with unshed tears.

“ ... he had borrowed from a unicorn,” I amended quickly. “And set out to meet this wondrous maiden. He met her in the market place and pretended to help her, saying all the things about her that she liked to hear. But every time he touched her hand, a drop of his poison would settle on her skin and make its way to her heart. And every word he whispered in her ear, slowly poisoned her mind against her husband.”

I felt Wendy shift uncomfortably behind me. ‘Fuck her,’ I thought, determinedly ignoring it. She wasn’t my ex-wife for nothing.

“And over the days that followed, every time she went to the market, he would be there with his evil spells and magical tongue, dripping poison onto her skin with his hands and into her ears with his words. And, although her husband loved her very much and tried with all his might to keep her at his side, soon she was fully under an evil enchantment and followed the wizard back to his terrible, dark disgusting lair – as his slave.

“The husband was heartbroken, but knowing his wife was under an evil magical spell that he had no power to break, he realized that the wizard would soon find out about the gold they had saved up for their baby. He would want to steal it. So, in the dead of night, when a mist had blinded the spider spies, he went very quietly to where they had buried their gold and dug it up – taking it from their treasure chest and burying it in a different place so that, even if his wife was forced to tell the wizard where it was, they would never find it.”

Wendy was becoming very restless now. I turned and looked at her with a deadpan expression and she settled back down again shamefacedly.

“When the wizard discovered that there was no gold in the chest, he was so furious that he thought of nothing else night and day, and his fury knew no bounds. By this time, his wife was so deeply enchanted that she helped her new master as much as she could. The wizard and his slave tried to trick him time and again with magic, enchantments and illusions, but the man had protected himself with a potion of sadness, which was made all the stronger by seeing his wife in the wizard’s shadow. So no matter what, the wizard and his slave could not discover where he had hidden the treasure.

“The wizard sent trolls to try and capture the man in the dark of night, but trolls are big and clumsy and the man kept slipping from hiding place to hiding place. The man also had friends amongst the knights of the city, and when the sun came up the trolls were frozen in the daylight, and were captured and banished to a deep, dark cavern.

“The wicked wizard then sent sly foxes disguised as fair maidens, with potions that would let him see the man’s dreams, in order to discover the location of the treasure that way. But the man recognized the foxes for what they were and set a pack of dogs on them.”

Wendy sniggered very quietly.

I ignored her. “The dogs, which were beautiful and swift and faithful, chased the foxes for miles and miles until their enchantment wore off and everyone saw them for what they were.

“Finally the wizard HHsent his slave – the man’s wife – with an enchanted apple. The wizard had read of a trick played by a witch who lived far away and long ago. So he carefully poisoned only one half of the apple, and then hid behind a shield of invisibility nearby to wait until the man had bitten into the poisonous part, when he would jump out and magically imprison the man’s spirit as he died.

“The man was so happy to see his wife free of the wizard’s enchantment, and when she drew out the apple and prepared to bite into it to show that it was safe to eat, he was more than happy to take a bite. But the man had seen the shadow of the wizard from behind his invisible hiding place, and when he took the apple, he threw it high into the air, laughing with happiness at his wife’s return. Then he said they should both bite it at the same time to show their love, and smiling all the time, they did so.

“After a moment, the man gave a terrible groan and the wizard stepped out of hiding to curse him and take his soul. But at that point, the beautiful wife fell dead at the man’s feet. When he had tossed the apple up, the man had carefully spun it around.

 
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