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SOMETHING WAS AMISS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD—AND IT WASN’T JUST THE STENCH OF TRASH DAY.
Aries wheeled his waste bin out to the curb for pickup, but stopped on his way back inside.
Something caught his eye.
There, in the lot next to his cottage, sat a large, two-story house that had not been there the night before.
He gaped, his feet cemented into the sidewalk, as his mind sought clarity. A rub of the eyes did little good, for the house remained precisely where it was, just as he first spotted it.
How could it have gotten there, he wondered?
How had he slept through its construction?
The morning sun shone against the home’s many windows, casting shadows behind it.
From where he stood, the view took his breath away. It was a gorgeous antebellum home.
Its exterior alone was impressive. The building stood much taller than his, the outer walls adorned with stone. Pillars stretched upwards from the foundation of the structure, giving the building an elegant vibe.
To the right, Aries saw a standalone two-car garage with a freshly paved driveway that stretched out to the street. One rather large three-panel window on the left—closest to Aries’ house—revealed a cozy living room with a glistening chandelier and fireplace. To the right of the living room window was the grand entrance—a beautiful white door squeezed between two floor-to-ceiling windows, each complete with their own porch light.
The place must have been big enough to house a family of six or more, he thought. It dwarfed his home, making it look like a tiny shack in comparison.
The unkempt mess of weeds that had taken over the lot were no more. The yard glistened with dew, freshly mowed. They’d even planted a row of trees in the front for curb appeal, while privacy hedges lined the perimeter of the property. As he watched, a sprinkler system set to work watering the lawn.
Aries came to his senses moments later.
He turned around and peeked over at the neighboring houses down the street. No one seemed to have noticed the new addition to Mulberry Lane just yet—and if they had, they didn’t show it.
The street was quiet for a Saturday morning.
Maybe if he worked quickly enough, he could avoid the rush of neighbors heading over to greet them.
He quickly strode back inside and hopped in the shower. Once he was dressed and clean, he headed into the one area of his home he dreaded the most: the kitchen.
He hadn’t used the space in forever, though he kept it spotlessly clean.
After pilfering through the cupboards, Aries walked away empty-handed. Determined to find something to take over to welcome his new neighbors to the neighborhood, he opened the fridge and grabbed the bag Rae handed him the night. Aries withdrew the container of untouched dessert—a chocolate layered cake that begged to be eaten.
As he bagged it up separately, Aries hoped it wouldn’t be a strange offering. He knew most people bought or made their welcoming gifts—but Aries wasn’t a crafty cook, let alone a baker. Besides that, shopping would take too much time. That, and he was certain anything Rae could whip up would be better than store-bought, anyway.
He double checked himself in the mirror before heading back out into the morning sun. With the dessert in hand, Aries confidently strode up to the front door and pushed the doorbell.
The last person he expected to answer it was the silver-eyed stranger from the night before.
He looked equally surprised to see Aries.
“What are you doing here?”
Aries frowned. “I could ask you the same question.”
“You live nearby?”
The author jerked his thumb toward his cottage. “Neighbors, technically.”
The man’s silver eyes followed Aries’ thumb, shot down toward the bag in his hands, and then back up to his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Fair enough. I’ve only come to bring you this,” Aries said, holding the bag up. “My friend’s famous chocolate cake...”
Behind him, the green-eyed man from before appeared and called out, “everything okay, Rune?”
Rune shot him a wide-eyed look and pointed at Aries. “We have a guest.”
“But that’s...”
“I know,” Rune interrupted. “But he’s here. The guy from last night.”
“The one you said was our—”
“TERRA!” Rune cried, cutting him off quickly.
The commotion drew the attention of others living in the home.
“What’s going on?” Shen asked from behind Rune.
“Why are you screaming so early?” griped Brava, who appeared seconds later.
What’re the odds? Aries wondered.
“You four live together?” Aries asked.
Rune sighed, a pained look in his silver eyes. Ignoring his question, he instead asked one of his own. “Do you recall what I told you last night?”
“You mean the part about forgetting you? I tried, but uh... that kind of request takes longer than a day.”
“So it didn’t work,” Rune muttered under his breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” he said, reaching out for what Aries held. “It was thoughtful of you to bring... what did you call it?”
“Chocolate cake?”
Rune smiled. “Yes, that.”
Their hands touched as they exchanged the bag. Just like in the bar, Rune’s eyes changed. The sudden flash of purple surprised Aries, who tore his hand away and stepped back.
“You’re doing that weird thing again—with your eyes.”
“Weird thing?” Rune asked with surprise.
“They changed purple at the bar and they did it again just now. I thought it was a trick of the light at first, but it’s happened twice now...”
The shock on their faces didn’t stop Aries from continuing to speak his mind.
He turned toward Terra and Brava, who hovered in the doorway with interest. “And you two... What’s with the pointy ears, halo, and horns?”
The four men stared at him in such a way, Aries thought he could see the gears turning in their minds. They exchanged looks, having a silent conversation with their eyes. What kind of explanation would they come up with, he wondered?
Rune turned back to face Aries. “You see, we’re—”
The sound of footsteps cut him off.
Four sets of eyes were drawn to something behind Aries.
Turning, he noticed one of their neighbors, Mrs. Mayweather. She was a lovely old woman. She stood just under five feet tall with hair white as snow. Her wrinkled, worn skin was battered with bruises that she often blamed on the small dogs she and her husband cared for.
Aries had never seen Mrs. Mayweather outside on her own. Yet there she was, carrying a wicker basket in one arm and her cane with the other. She hobbled up the driveway and stopped at the stairs to catch her breath.
“Come to greet our new neighbors, Mrs. Mayweather?” Aries asked, smiling.
She climbed the stairs without answering his question.
Thinking perhaps she hadn’t heard him, Aries repeated himself.
But once again, she ignored him.
Behind him, he overheard Brava say, “hey, Rune, I thought you warded the place off.”
“I did,” Rune hissed.
“Then how—”
At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Mayweather tripped. Aries reacted quickly, hoping to stop her fall. But just as he got close enough, the old woman dropped the wicker basket and jabbed her cane straight into his chest.
Something sharp shot out from the end of the wood and penetrated his flesh.
Aries gasped and cried out in pain as his white undershirt turned red from soaking up his blood.
Pain numbed his senses. Soon, even the anxious words of the four men behind him disappeared. All he could see was the smirk on Mrs. Mayweather’s face. And then, in a horrifying turn of events, the old woman burst into flames and crumbled to dust.
Aries looked down at the weapon sticking out of his chest. He reached for the cane. His shaky hands clamped around it, but his vision grew hazier each moment that passed. His knees buckled beneath him and, he crumbled to the floor.
A dark, dreamless sleep awaited him.