The Howling

Chapter Seven

        The structure stood apart from the other houses on the street, perched at the top of a slight incline that raised it higher than the others. It had once been elegant, with a bay window in the front that possessed a homey view of the sprawling neighborhood below. A true picture of Victorian architecture. But now the wood was molding, some of the planks missing altogether and others hung haphazardly with rusted nails. Weeds choked the front yard. A "For Sale" sign had been placed in the front window, but time and the sun had bleached it, the once cherry red border whitening to pink. The bushes were overgrown, the faded forest green paint chipped, the railing along the entry stairs missing, some planks in those same stairs looted, and the windows were boarded up. 

        Villette frowned, hunching deeper into her brother's jacket. After she had found it in the backseat of the hatchback, she had taken it with her, unable to abandon it. "This is it? This is the secret demon prison that houses the most terrifying creatures to ever walk the earth? Who devour the souls of unsuspecting children? Mister Rogers' house?" 

        Reinard gave her a confused look. "Who is Mister Rogers?" 

        "A dude from the neighborhood," she answered absentmindedly. She was still staring at the house up the street. "Shouldn't it be condemned or something? It doesn't look safe to enter." 

        "It's perfectly sound," Reinard assured her, marching with a brisk step up the sidewalk towards the house.  

        Villette glanced down at her bracelet, double checking that it was still there, as she trailed after Reinard. A fear that it would fall off without her knowing gnawed at the back of her mind. She logically knew that it would remain in place; Reinard had assured her of that. But still, what would she do if she lost it? Would Al return to his normal form if she did? Or would he spend an eternity trapped in the form of a bracelet, dropped in the gutter until someone happened across it? 

        Having a magician on her side definitely had its perks. She always hated whenever someone in public asked about the suit of armor trailing after her. Reinard had fixed that with a bit of magic. A simple spell had altered his form into that of a bracelet. He could return to his normal form when she took it off, but in the meantime, it spared her questioning looks. 

        Reinard crossed the street and moved confidently up the overgrown path to the front stairs. Villette kept glancing over her shoulder, wondering if the neighborhood snoop had her head pressed against the kitchen window, watching them. Every neighborhood had one. And just because she couldn't see her, didn't mean she wasn't out there.  

        Reinard flowed up the steps without bothering to checking to make sure that they would support his weight. Even when they held for him, Villette moved along the edges, preferring not to take her chances. 

        With his hand poised in the air to knock on the door, Reinard suddenly stopped. He spun around to face Villette. "I should make some ground rules before we enter. And I think it best that Al resume his normal form-and should remain that way until after we exit the Howling." 

        Villette eagerly held up her wrist. Reinard mumbled something over it as his hand went into his breast jacket pocket, probably to touch his tome. Then magic swirled around the bracelet. It became warm to the touch, and without Villette moving, the clasp unlocked and it slid from her wrist. 

        It jangled onto the floor, spinning like a top, and then the metal began growing. Moving in reverse from how it had condensed down, the metal stretched and lengthened. First Al's legs were recreated and then the magic flowed upwards until his midsection, his chest, his arms, and lastly his head resumed its normal form.