The Witch's Doll ⚢

Chapter 31

A/N

Late update this week. Had to do some stuff for a deadline. This would be the first time I'm gonna share this with you all. I'm just so excited that my indie short film was accepted to compete at a local film festival where I live! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"I did not expect you to be Madam Dunkle's assistant," Isla admitted.

They stood in front of another tent where Harper took it upon herself to have fun since they were in a fair. She had been long engrossed in gunslinger games, losing and sometimes winning them left to right.

"Oh, only like once every two weeks," Monica said. "Usually when my grandmother needs some favor from her, I usually am part of the bargain."

"So you work for her?"

"She is quite known in these parts," Monica said, looking around the fair. "May I ask why you guys were in there?"

"It was Harper's idea," Isla said, pointing fingers. "And I am slightly onto the fact that she must have suggested visiting the Professor of Occult so she would have an excuse of me heading to the fair with her."

"Hey!" The American yelled from where she stood. She was holding a gun on her left and a huge plushie porcupine on the other. "It was so not because the Detective Inspector asked of me to help you unwind."

Isla shot her a glare to which Harper flinched.

"It's worth a shot!" she said, waving the toy gun. "Pun intended! I mean, you're an expert on logic and detection yet you can't solve it. Along with other detectives working on the case. I'm merely suggesting going through the paranormal route."

Monica's face darkened at that, but it disappeared almost completely, Isla thought she imagined it.

"The Salisbury Killer proved to be a worthy adversary for the police," Monica commented. "Most of Madam Dunkle's customers are usually those who want their fortunes to be read, but lately they are those who want to speak to the dead."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me right, Isla," Monica said. "I have no idea why Evonnie's there though. Madam Dunkle's ethics are similar to priests when people go to them to confess. We don't share their reasons. It would be breaching confidentiality."

"Can we backtrack for a moment there?" Isla strained her jaw muscles, annoyed at the fact everyone was slowly realizing her crush that they must mention her every once in a while. "You say Madam Dunkle's customers come to her to talk to the deceased?"

"Yes, especially those people who haven't made peace to the dead yet."

"I am not a fan of the con," Isla said, disapprovingly. "Especially when you use a person's grief for money. And thanks to the Salisbury Killer, there's no shortage of bereft customers ripe for the plucking."

"If people take solace in belief, who are we to criticize them?" Monica said. "And besides, it's not illegal."

"Quite afraid you are right."

"Isla, I know it's not my place to say so, but..." Monica swallowed, licking her dried lips. "How are you holding up?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, it just seems to me, that you're a girl with a lot of unresolved issues. You can't help people when you don't help yourself." Monica held her by the shoulder, Isla flinched upon touch at first before allowing it. The touch somehow grounded and calmed her. "You're experiencing slight distress. It could be PTSD, I don't know, but you've witnessed a lot of deaths the past few days. Don't you think exposing yourself more to these kinds of investigations might have you spiraling into madness?"