The Small Dark Shop on The Corner of Edmond Street

Prolouge

The small, dark shop on the corner of Edmond street, Whiskerton, had been there longer than anyone could remember. It was harmless in all respects, but even so, parents would tell their kids to stay away. It was never visited by any of the townsfolk. For lack of customers, it served mostly as the residency of Alena Cyte, and not a shop. Alena could never manage to draw in any customers to the shop, save for the people just passing through town who hadn't heard the rumours about it. That wasn't a problem for Alena, as her great grandmother had left her more than enough money in her will to make up for the not-so-booming business. For three generations, the people of Whiskerton had kept their distance from the shop. People would whisper about it as they walked past, about the small, dark shop on the corner of Edmond street and how it didn't belong amongst the ice cream parlours, toy stores and bakeries. Mothers in their sunshine-yellow dresses would steer their curious children away, the high school kids in their crisp white shirts would scribble their names on the brick facade and the church-goers on Sunday morning would say a quick prayer every time they passed it. But Alena didn't mind, in fact, she enjoyed the peace and quite, enjoyed the rhythmic splash of her sponge in the soapy bucket when she cleaned her walls every morning. She was free to dance about the shop in her long purple cloak for as many hours as she pleased, free to sing while she baked muffins and free to read upstairs by the ornate, picture window, while the molten gold of the afternoon sun danced upon her skin, cosy in her giant red armchair. So what if all the crows in deemed her shop the best place in town to perch? So what If stray black cats wondered into the shop so often Alena had started leaving out saucers of milk? None of this mattered to Alena, and whether or not it mattered to the other people of Whiskerton, didn't matter to her either. The only thing that ever bothered Alena was a whisper of a feeling she would get whenever she spied a young couple walking hand in hand, a group of giggling girls or friends sitting and chatting outside the milkshake bar. The feeling would momentarily clasp around her heart, yank on it a little. As if an invisible hand was trying to pull it towards those bustling happy teens. It was longing, she had come to realise, loneliness. But she brushed it off every time, reminded herself that her kind were not meant to have best friends and lovers and emotional connection to the Ordinary. Her mother had told her so before she died when Alena was only young. She didn't remember much about her mother, just that she had a voluminous mass of curly black hair, tamed only by the red fabric headband holding it off her face, a sharp thin nose, large full lips and twinkling eyes of darkest blue, flecked with white, like stars. She knew nothing of her father, just that he must've had darker skin, because while her mother had been an ethereal, icy pale, Alena had a golden-olive complexion. Aside from her alabaster skin, Alena had inherited all her mother's features, she was a mirror image.
"Treasure your beauty, it will serve you well" her mother had cooed to her, but she had never seen a reason for it. Her beauty had never affected her life, for good or for bad. She thought that perhaps the life she was leading was not the one her mother had planned for her, but how was she supposed to know? After all, she had spent ten years from the age of seven without her mother, without anyone, no one to provide guidance or even company of any sort. Just the ancient magic imbued in the walls of small, dark shop on the corner of Edmond street and cats and the crows and smell of muffins and the afternoon sun and the characters in her books. Alena wasn't lonely. How can you be lonely if you can't remember what company feels like? No, Alena wasn't lonely. But she did feel like there was something missing, and lately, she felt as if some energy was stirring, awakening. Like something was about to change. For better or for worse, Alena didn't know.
But she was looking forward to finding out.