Evil, Unintended

Chapter 1

"If one of us subsists anonymous from our realm, they have an obligation to be introduced. It is obligatory to remain hidden, and an Unknown may jeopardise our chances of survival."

- Chapter 1, Entry 12- The Imperials Pocket Book, compressed by L.O. Shawside.

The branches whipped past overhead through the sunroof, creating dark shadows that fell through the glass into the taxi and patterned the pale, fading leather seats, crossing and bending over my legs. Outside the windows, the sky loomed unforgiving and grey, I almost feared the days when I wouldn't have an excuse to be my quietly loathing, miserable self so beloved by all, but today the dense air hung low, clotted with water and coloured with future rain. Nobody likes bad weather.

A lark called out overhead, just loud enough to be heard through the taxi's smudged glass over the guttural spluttering of the mistreated engine that coughed and grumbled along.

Strict instructions of staying with the minutely insane branch of a woman that was somehow related to me, the only aunt I had ever known, rang in my head.

I didn't dread it.

I didn't look forwards to it, either.

I was past caring about what would happen to me to be honest. A lack of emotion had crept into my awareness recently and due to said lack of emotions, I couldn't give a fuck about my lack of emotions. Gloom was my new habitat, the heavy yet surprisingly comforting blanket that had been tossed over my head.

"Outskirts of Spott, huh?" An intrusive voice came from the front, glancing in the mirror at me with wrinkled eyes.

A single nod was my only response, purposely angling my head to the window pane and staring, hard.

"Why there?"

I ignored the curious, electric blue eyes.

I admitted that I probably would have been curious, too, if I had been him. Dad's old raincoat enveloped my tiny frame as though it were trying to kidnap it. The threadbare skinny jeans and brown rats-tailed hair most likely made it seem to be succeeding too.

Sure, I would be curious; I just wouldn't be so rude.

The clingy cab air that held lingering cigarette fumes would now be stuck to me along with the old stench of leather. It smelt like a run-down gentleman's club and made my head spin and stomach churn as we bumbled along.

I pressed against the cool handle in the door, squeezing my eyes closed as we turned a corner.

"Holiday with distant family." I said to the still inquiring eyes. Another cloud of dull sickness washed through me. The distance was shrouded in accumulating fog that cast the unknown road ahead in a monochrome light. Rims of fields protruded from the greyness, brushing along the sides of the wheels as they sloshed noisily through murky rainwater from the night before.

O glorious Scotland.

Spott, where I was almost heading, apparently did have kids in, though I had never met any of them. I was never a massive fan of people, especially ones that could be described as 'kids'. The place was small and seemed to be losing tens of people by the year, partly due to my old pal death, partly due to the fact it's an uninteresting place that nobody with half a mind or some form of free will would ever want to stay in. The only real reason people had for staying was either a family business or being too close to breaking point to move properly.

And so the inhabitants wait out their sad lives in the rain.

And it sounded like a dream to me.