Hatchetfield.

Can't you hear it? It can hear you

The shop owner (Frank Pricely, that's his name, Holly.) is singing. It reminds her of something, something she can't place. Singing. Why would that cause her to try to remember something? She doesn't need to remember, everything is just fine the way it is. He laughs and says something about the dolls, how much money they're gonna make him. She finds herself smiling. Yes, that will certainly be true. But she's the one who'll be benefiting from it.

     "Right you are," She says. Her voice doesn't sound all like it should, but that's to be expected around Black Friday. He needs someone to speak through, and she is more than lucky to be the one chosen. "Now, I just need your signature right here on the dotted line, and you'll be good to go." She holds out the clipboard toward him, noticing her hands shaking. Bizarre.

     "Ah, with pleasure." He takes it from her, and she folds her hands together, willing them to stop shaking. She isn't scared. She's done this before, in so many different places and timelines, as so many different people. She isn't scared.

     "So that's them, huh?" The girl asks. Alexandra Foster, she's informed. Her sister has the gift. Knows Webby. Rotten little banana.

     "Yup, our own little miracle on 34th street. Tell me, Lex, do you know why they call it Black Friday?" The voice in her head gets louder, drowning out his words and Ms. Foster's as he hands the clipboard back to her. Her hands are still shaking. She tucks the pen into her pocket, sets the clipboard down, and cracks her knuckles. That's one nervous habit that even the gods can't get out of her, and they've certainly tried. Stop doing that. I don't like it when you do that, Holly. He puts an odd emphasis on the syllables in her name, breaking it up awkwardly. It's one of the many things that sets Him apart from humans. One of the many things she adores about him. "It's the day in America where most retailers go from being in the red, losing money, to being in the black, making money."

     "Well, friend, I have a feeling that these little guys are going to take you so far into the Black, that you aren't ever coming back." Frank Pricely meets her eyes, and she sees what appears to be concern for a worryingly long moment before he laughs.

     "Well, I sure hope so!" Close call, Holly. Better be careful. She laughs too, and even though she doesn't have much choice in the matter, it's genuine enough to fool him.

     "Oh, you are gonna make a killing." She draws her finger across her neck as she speaks, a gesture that Wiggly has become particularly fond of. "That is a Miss Holly's Toys guarantee." She begins to walk away, but feels compelled to stop. She looks at Lex. She should apologize- she shouldn't apologize, she should tell her to get her sister out of Hatchetfield before she can fuck everything up but she can't because He doesn't want her to. And she does what He wnats her to do. She was chosen for a reason, she has to prove that she was worthy.

     "Hello, Ms. Foster," Is what she says. It's still the wrong thing and He screams at her, and her head almost splits in two but Lex looks at her, tilting her head in a way familiar to her.

     "Do I know you?"

     She smiles. "Not in this timeline." You said too much, you said too much, you said too much, you said too much. She walks away, and her hands start shaking again, and her vision tints green and suddenly it's not her walking, but it is, but it's Him instead, and her voice doesn't sound like her's. "You shouldn't have done that, Holly." No, she shouldn't have. No, she shouldn't have. He's mad. And he's going to make sure that she pays for this.