The Crow's Song

Chapter 3

"Can you pass the polish Ellie?"

Ellie threw the tin of polish at her uncle, her nose wrinkling at the smell. "Can't they make this stuff smell a bit nicer? I mean, why does it have to smell like tar?"

Cain rubbed some polish on the barrel of the gun he was cleaning. "It's a manly smell. No guy wants to be carrying a weapon that smells like a bed of roses. That's just embarrassing."

"It's embarrassing to smell nice?" She scoffed.

"Yes! A man should smell of dirt and sweat with a little touch of motor oil for good measure."

Ellie grinned as she pulled apart a Sig Sauer, placing all the pieces neatly in front of her. "I think I know what someone's getting for Christmas now. No more fancy cologne for you."

"Finally," he muttered, as he placed his now gleaming gun back in its case.

Every Tuesday they would clean their weapons. They were weapons Ellie was never allowed to use but she knew them all like the back of her hand. Her uncle had first shown her how to dismantle a gun when she was twelve years old. She struggled to begin with, the large objects tricky with her small hands. It hadn't been long though before she was giving Cain a run for his money. They would place bets to see who could reassemble a gun first.

Two years ago Cain stopped betting because he was losing too much money.

"So Ellie, are you ready for tomorrow?" He asked, grabbing a long sword from the dirty pile.

She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to groan. Every month she would go before the Master's to tell them about her dreams and visions. It was more painful than a splinter in your eye. They would sit there, sometimes for hours, nit picking over something minor like the fact that a demon raised his eyebrow. Because that could mean so many things. In Ellie's experience it usually meant someone was sceptical but not to the Master's. To them, it was a hidden code which needed to be deciphered, making her repeat the same scene over and over until Ellie was ready to kill herself with whatever was available.

Last month, she'd planned her death perfectly with the small angel statue that sat on Master Ardrow's desk. It would have been quick and relatively painless although at that point she wouldn't have cared if she was in complete agony. It still would've been bliss compared to listening to their droning.

Grabbing the trigger pin, she started cleaning it gently. "I'll tell them what I always tell them Cain; demons were bad mouthing their mothers and their abilities to pleasure a woman."

Cain started choking on air, his grip on the blade slipping. "Elspeth!"

She poked her tongue out, grinning evilly. "How fun would it be if I really did tell them that?"

"Ellie..." he sighed.

Her grin faded and she placed the trigger pin aside, grabbing the barrel and covering it lightly in oil. "I'll tell them what they want to hear. The same story every god damn time. Although this time I'm not telling them until they tell me if I'm allowed to start hunting."

Cain sighed, accidentally rubbing oil through his hair as Ellie struggled not to laugh. "Don't push them Ellie, you're not seventeen yet so leave it until then."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm seventeen in a few months Cain. Then what? Are they going to keep avoiding the question? They promised me I could start hunting when I was seventeen. Aisling and Erick have been hunting since they were fifteen!"

“Yes, I know that Ellie but that's different, they aren't -"

"I know,' she sighed exasperatedly. "They aren't freaks like I am."