Halloween

1913

With a sigh, Marie changed into her pale blue nightgown and settled on the small bed. Even though there was a small fear in her that she might die, it so far seemed as though the legend of Edward Mordrake was just that: a legend.

She was glad that she at least managed to make some money, just enough to afford the rent. Marie moved some of her hair from beneath her head before closing her eyes, she didn’t feel like reading. There was less than an hour left until midnight and the quicker she would fall asleep, the quicker Halloween would be over.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you’re rather beautiful.”

Flinching at the male voice, Marie opened her eyes and sat up. She was sure she had locked her door but she could grab the book off of the nightstand. Realising the stranger stood next to the nightstand since that was the only place to stand in the small bedroom, Marie decided against reaching for the book.
“Who are you?” she asked, trying to sound confident. She realised that he was wearing rather old-fashioned clothes. “And why are you in my apartment?”
“Apologies, my dear. How rude of me to not introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Edward Mordrake.”

Edward Mordrake.

He was real.

And she had summoned him.

He bowed, taking his top hat off to reveal a second face on the back of his head. Her eyes widened and she couldn’t help but regret performing, even if it meant missing her rent.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he said softly. He had a rather typical and posh English accent. “Who might you be?”
“Marie Williams,” she said quietly. Even though she probably knew why, she decided to point something out. “You didn’t answer my second question.”

“Someone has performed this night and now I search for a freak to take with me to the other side and to satisfy its wants,” he explained simply.
“I performed earlier, I needed the money,” Marie said, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself to a ghost. She gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed and he smiled and did so. Marie shuffled forwards and sat beside him. She felt a little less afraid now he wasn’t towering over her. “You might kill me.”
“Perhaps I will, but first, tell me about your darkest moment, when you have felt truly ashamed and miserable.”

His blue eyes stared at her but she didn’t understand. Her fingers dug into the sheets and her toes dangled above the floor. A green mist covered the floor, gently floating upwards around her feet.
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” He reached out and gently moved her chestnut fringe to the side with his gloved hand, revealing a third eye in the centre of her forehead. Instead of a grey colour, it was orange. “The 21st of April, 1868, your eighteenth birthday. It wishes to hear it from you.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, I turned eighteen and unlike my older sisters, I didn’t really have anyone to court, not even any potential suitors. So my mother held a party.”

It was a lavish banquet. Rows of tables covered with pristine tablecloths were filled with plates of food. Marie didn’t know how her mother had managed it. Turning behind her, Marie smiled and hugged her mother.
“Mother, this is truly wonderful, I love it all, thank you so much. You’re the best mother I could have ever wanted.”
The woman was tall and thin with a pointy nose and greying hair. She smiled at Marie. “Now come on, you are a lady now. Just promise we’ll pick a worthy suitor together later.”
“Of course, Mother.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” said a young man. He had curly blond hair and bright green eyes. “May I dance with the beautiful lady before me?” Her mother nodded and Marie took the man’s outstretched hand and followed him.

“His name was Charles,” she said, smiling fondly at the memory. “He was sweet and polite. He was going to be a physician but Mother didn’t approve of that. I don’t know why she invited him if she didn’t approve of him.
“Perhaps to seem kind,” he said. Marie looked at him and nodded. “Those who pretend to be kind are often the most cruel. And she was cruel to you, wasn’t she?” Marie nodded her head and continued on with the story.

“Now, I’d like to thank all of you for attending today but I’m afraid I have some news to announce,” said her mother. Marie had a sinking feeling in her chest. “We had hoped that our Lord would forgive her for her sins but it seems my daughter is committed to sin.”
“Mother…” said Marie, turning to face the woman. She flinched and raised a hand to the stinging skin of her cheek. Her mother had slapped her. Tears welled in her eyes as nails dug into her scalp and she was yanked closer to her mother by her hair. “Stop!”
“Unfortunately, Satan has claimed my daughter.”

The hair was lifted from Marie’s face to reveal a third, orange eye that stared at everyone. Her eyes met Charles’ and she saw his look of horror.
“Charles, no! I’m not a witch or a Devil-worshipper, I’m not!” Having a third eye didn’t change who she was, she hadn’t lied to anyone about how she felt or what she liked. But the way he looked at her.

Edward held out a folded handkerchief out to her. She thanked him as she took it and wiped her eyes.
“It was the way he looked at me,” she said quietly. Marie held the handkerchief in her hands, her thumb brushing over the embroidered letters on it. “I really felt ashamed of who I am. If I didn’t have an eye on my forehead, I could have married and had a family, even if it wasn’t with Charles.”
“I am sorry you had to relive that, no real mother would intentionally hurt their child.”

He stood and headed towards the door.
“I’m not going to die?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You are not the one but I am certain we shall see each other again.” He headed through the open door and walked out of sight. Slowly, the green mist started to fade and out of curiosity, Marie walked to the doorway and looked into the small living room.

He was gone.