Capricorns and Devil Horns

Black Widow

Morgan was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in London. Shaken up by the whole ordeal, I stayed at home. The only contact I had for just over a week was the repairman who came to sort out the hole in the wall.

The house was much quieter than I'd grown used to over the past couple of months. Skip and I would spend the day curled up on the sofa, watching old sitcoms and snacking. A part of me missed waking up to find Morgan shuffling about it in the kitchen, or spending at least 3 nights a week only half-drunk playing 'Headbandz for Kids'. Then, I'd look over at the wall and remember. Morgan was dangerous. Morgan was a liar. Morgan was crazy.

Crazy.

He had to be.

Some of me honestly wanted to believe him. To accept who he said he was and bring him home. But how could it possibly be true? The Devil wasn't real. And, even if he was, Morgan couldn't be him. He was far too happy and funny and charming... And all the things he'd said about Hannah- how could they be true? She was my best friend- I'd known her since I was five and she was six. But how could he have known Hannah's mum's name? And why would he suddenly start acting strange the minute she turned 21? Ugh.

Hannah came over exactly 10 days after it had all kicked off. When I opened the door to her, my jaw nearly hit the ground.

Her flaming red hair fell in large, bouncy curls, contrasting against her porcelain skin. She wore smokey eyeshadow and a plump red pout. Her body was barely covered by the little black dress that she wore, with it barely reaching her thighs and her full breasts spilling over the top. With her incredibly tall back stilettos, she had to have been 6'1, maybe even 6'2.

"Oh my..." I gasped.

She laughed a low sultry laugh, before walking past me and settling herself down on the sofa. I sat beside her, still in shock from her attire.

"You going out after this?" I asked.

"No." She replied with a small smile.

"Why're you all dressed up then?"

"I can't make an effort when I visit my best friend?"

"I guess not... So, what have you been up to, Hannah?"

She chewed on her blood red lip for a second before smirking.

"Having sex."

I furrowed my eyebrows and scooted away from her a little. Hannah was never exactly shy, but she was never this forward.

"Right."

"I've slept with 12 people since my birthday."

"Wow..." I breathed.

"Looking for my number 13."

"Unlucky for some." I laughed awkwardly.

"Not for me. Y'know, one guy said I have the most beautiful body he's ever seen."

"That's nice of him?"

"Yeah. You should see my body, Nora. I think you'd like it."

"I used to change next to you for P.E, Han."

"But, I've grown since then. I'm 21 now..."

She placed her slender hand on my thigh and I tensed.

"Yeah... I noticed. Hannah, have you been drinking?"

"No." She said, now leaning closer to me, her voice fading to a whisper, "Is that you suggesting breaking out the wine?"

"No, I-"

"Good," She was now speaking with her lips against the exposed skin of my shoulder, "I prefer to make love sober."

"What the fuck? I don't want to have sex with you!"

Her lips twisted into a grin in a way that reminded me of Morgan. Hannah's hands found my hips and pulled me beneath her, so that she straddled me.

"Of course you do."

She lowered herself down to me, about to capture my lips in a kiss, when a knock at the door made us both jolt in surprise.

"That'll be Gary!" I all but yelled, scurrying out from under her, "Here to repair that bloody wall..."

I answered the door to 5'4, bald Gary, wearing a hi-vis and let him through. He immediately clocked Hannah sitting with her legs tucked under her on the sofa. Her pout faded to a smirk when she laid eyes on him.

"Nora, you didn't tell me the repairman was so... sexy."

Gary turned an even deeper shade of red than he had already been after lugging a toolbox up 4 flights of stairs.

"N-Nora. Whose your friend?" Gary stumbled over his words.

"Hannah. Who was just leaving, right?"

"Fine."

She picked up her bag and got to her feet, swaying her his as she passed me, but stopping when she reached Gary.

"Perhaps you'd like to leave with me, Stud?" She asked quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

"Gary has work to do." I said through my teeth.

Gary frowned.

"In that case," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a little white card, "take my number."

Then, she left, leaving both Gary and I in complete shock.

It wasn't until later that night when I was in the shower that I thought about what Morgan had said. That Hannah was a mix between a Siren and a Succubus. I'd done a piece on Sirens for Art when I was still in school. I was familiar with the fact that they would lore unsuspecting sailors to their deaths. And Succubi would seduce men in their sleep.

The way Hannah had been with me- and Gary- was something. I'd witnessed anytime I'd agreed to go to a party or bar with her. I'd always been impressed by the way she could have any man she wanted, but now it quite frankly scared the living daylights out of me.

Gary didn't show up the next day and all day I felt uneasy. The day after that, his death was announced in the local paper. He was found dead in his bed, apparently of natural causes. His heart simply gave in and stopped beating. 53 years old. His time of death was presumed 11:30pm, 5 minutes after a red-headed woman who had also been connected to at least five other men who had died in the last week.

Hannah.

The Devil or not, Morgan was right about one thing- Hannah was a Black Widow.