A chill snapped across the morning air. It was the kind that stripped the flesh and pressed down upon you like a blanket of pins. Oddly enough, the Larkan Bureau of Meteorology hadn’t forecast it. Still, stranger things have happened and I had work to do. I trekked on with my fingers deep within my coat until I reached the door to the Matron Café. It was my very own shop, I might add. Brought and fixed it up myself. I entered and was suddenly alarmed by the pendant hanging around my neck. For a moment, it felt like a tightening noose around my neck. Was there someone behind me? I wondered that, suddenly dreading whatever unworldly presence haunted me.
I’d always kept this necklace out of sight, hidden beneath whatever clothing I wore for reasons I didn’t even realize but eventually learned before the day's end.
When my isolation was reassured, I drew forth the necklace and examined its pendant. It seemed to be a sharp bit of glass with its edges seemingly dulled to prevent anyone harm. I recalled, and I was a child so you can excuse the vagueness, a blue scarecrow handed the thing down to me without a word and vanished.
I flicked on the lights, unbuttoned my coat, and set the fireplace to boil. It was strangely difficult to encourage the darn thing, but with a kick up the rear and a plate of loose timber and a side of newspaper clippings, the flame got to work. Its heat managed to soothe some feeling back into my hands. You know how winter is, where suddenly there’s this breadth of warm air, and suddenly I’m far from the chill of my café and even colder outside. Although it wasn’t winter, despite the climate.
Reluctantly I got to work. I started with the coffee machine, steaming the milk jug dry with the exhaust pipe attached to the machine, simultaneously clearing it of condensation, and then making myself a flat white.
The coffee wasn’t purely for pleasure, but a method to ensure the beans' flavour for the day. Today, it was scrumptious.
I then began flipping chairs off tables, turning on lights, and bringing out the cakes and sweets into the small, glass window display beside the counter. I could go on, but I won't.
Anyhow, it was time to open so I unlocked the front door and flipped the sign to 'Welcome: Vampires Excluded.'
The time dragged by. I don’t know if it was the weather, the exhaustion from all that excitement with the Oracle who visited not too long ago, or it simply being a slow day, but it was awful. A few people came by, purchasing a coffee and a muffin to go. Oh and of course, Beth and her husband XX-35 sat down to have their usual brunch. Eggs and Vanilla Oil.
It grew quieter still. I found myself looking out windows and watching whatever pathetic foot traffic there was until the degrees took a sharp downturn - the streets were suddenly stripped bare! That’s the trouble with unseasonal cold snaps! People just can’t handle the suddenness. I reasoned that the yetis down the street would come by for a cold brew, but due to their disposition to the unprecedented weather, they’d probably be enjoying a picnic in the park with Jr.
Sorry, back to the point. The streets were empty until this woman was emerging through the cold. She walked with a slightly fettered way about her. Her skin was about as white as paper, literally. Her hair was this crispy blond and was pulled into a proper bun. Her hands were held stiffly behind her back, her shoulders square with a grim expression befalling anything to fall under her critical gaze. It seemed a blessing that the streets were empty of any persons. Ghastly women. I mean it.
I cursed as her march became fixated on my shop. She entered with poise. Game face on, I attentively stopped wiping down a nearby table and approached her with my usual, comforting smile.
“Oof, it’s awfully cold outside. Will you be sitting in?”
Now despite my misgivings to a perfect stranger, I leapt at the opportunity to serve. Coming within reach of her, I turned to fully meet her eyes. My pulse dropped, I must admit. I’d hardly realized the height of the woman while she stood at a distance, but now I saw she was all limbs and no girth. 7 feet at least.
This Woman looked down at me, digesting my question. Would she dignify me with the bare minimum of a response? Finally, she spoke. Her tone was about as friendly as you’d expect.
“I will,” she said as she removed her blue, spring jacket.
Her voice was raspy, like screws in a blender. It was a little disarming, love, for she carried herself with this pretty pride, like the models my grandson is so eager on. Although in a moment her voice matched her spirit all too well. Nails dragging down a chalkboard.
Now you wouldn’t know me, but I am not one to judge on appearance. I try my best to be open and honest. Yet this Woman seemed painfully skinny, reminding me of if you wrap old, broken chicken bones in Cling Wrap. One sudden move and her elbow would rip through the sleeve of her flesh. Look, I’ve seen plenty of tall humanoids who are quite thin, but she was cadaverous.
She seemed to notice that I’d become lost scrutinizing her. She sat herself down and then awaited my service. I fumbled out my notepad and clicked my pen with a smile. “What can I get for you to start?”
“Tea, with two ice cubes on the side.”
I blinked. “Ma’am?”
“You can do that for me, Miss…?”
“Gording. Call me Gording. And yes we can do that for you. A bit cold for ice cubes, isn’t it?”
The question seemed grating to the woman for she began tapping her long, within fingers against the table. Lord, her hand was like a spider spinning a web.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend…”
“Stop.”
I grimaced and then again ventured a smile.
“Could I get a name for the order?”
“Emilia.”
“I’ll be back with your order shortly.”
Emilia didn’t bother with a reply.
Time passed and Emilia hadn’t touched her drink. I saw her tempt a small sip, pause and become content sucking on one of the ice cubes I supplied instead. Then, slowly, she risked another sip of the hot tea. It seemed revolting to her, and yet she developed a cycle. Ice cube, sip, repeat. This process effectively continued on a loop until she seemingly grew tired of the routine and simply swallowed the ice cubes whole. Then, with a deep breath, she began she began drinking her tea as ordinarily as anyone could. Look at me, scrutinizing how one drinks tea, but it was odd and I’d been in the business long enough to know. I eventually brought out the two hot-cross buns she ordered after I had delivered her tea.
I know it isn’t polite to stare at customers, but I couldn’t help it. I suppose there was a symmetrical attractiveness beneath the gauntness - a strange uncanny swirl of sicky and refined. Perhaps a better description was that she was a curiosity, like an accident on the street you couldn’t help but stare at. Brutal and bloody and yet attention sank into its direction. Regardless of her physical appearance, something was chipping away at her. She restlessly stabbed into one of the hot-cross buns with a knife and chewed down a bite.
Frost began to coat the windows.
The fireplace was struggling now. XX-35 removed his coat and handed it to Beth who immediately cocooned herself within it.
“You are such a sweetheart, Thirty-Five.”
“FOR YOU MY LOVE, I HAVE DISABLED MY THERMAL SENSATIONS. MY JACKET IS NOW OBSOLETE,” He droned, sweetly.
The cold was getting to me. I tossed on my old hoodie that I kept under the till. It worked well enough, although the snow now bellowing outside left me questioning its foreseeability. I could see the trees dotting the street outside begin to sway violently. I surveyed by barren shop, eventually turning back towards Emilia. I intended only to make another glance at her, assure her that she was satisfied with my service, despite her peculiarity. Yet I was stunned by what I now saw.
I watched as she pulled something from within the pocket of her jacket, far too large to have been concealed so completely. It was a served head!
I understand Larkan hosts all kinds of creatures, but this was rather unorthodox, at least in my café. She gently sat it across from her and leaned back folding her arms. Then nothing. I thought I should turn away, but curiosity got the better of me. Emilia waited before, with a sharp huff, tore a bite out of one of her hot-cross buns.
The head belonged to a bald man still wearing a pair of frosted, black sunglasses. Where the neck would have been as a silver ring covered with circuits.
“Well, where is it?” She said, firm and just as irritated as ever.
I realized she was speaking to the head. It said nothing in response, which left me eager to turn away until the head spoke.
“It is here, I’m sure of it.” Said the Head.
He sounded rather posh, nothing like the foul-mouthed heads I’d seen for sale at the Saturday Market.
“You need to be more specific, Min. You said it would be here. All I see is a coffee house.”
“I believe the term is a café.”
“Don’t get clever.”
Beth and XX-35 began joining me in eyeing the discourse via lancing glances, or in the case of XX-35, twisting their heads right round to stare. Beth slapped his hand and he quickly turned back around with a face full of shame.
The Head, apparently named Min continued. “My Queen, with my most earnestness, you’ve read the same readings as I.”
Emilia scowled at Min but with a groan she wordlessly admitted defeat.
“Get smart again and I’ll remind you I can extract your hard drive with or without you alive.”
“I’m the smartest there is, besides your cosmic grace.”
“Now you’re sucking up.”
I had been staring for too long, so I began busying myself whipping down my clean counter. I got an odd prickle down my neck and I realised Emillia and Min had stopped jabbering. In complete silence, Emilia was glaring at me. With great effort, she began to speak in my general direction.
“You, uh Gording. Have you seen any pieces or fragments of a mirror? Glass even?”
My legs buckled slightly, my spine turning to stone. But why though? I was surprised to find that I was fiddling with the pendant hanging around my neck. My fingers fumbled absently with the shard of glass hanging around my neck. Emilia’s gaze narrowed, suspicion flickering in her expression until it transformed. Greed was too simple a word for it and last was too primitive - it was obsession warped beyond reason or language.
She rose proudly and quickly, her hip smashing against the table’s edge. The severed head resting upon it wobbled, teetering for a moment before settling in place.
“I see you’re wearing a necklace. Might I examine its pendant?”
The request thinly veiled its iniquity with innocuousness. Emilia intended to reach out, to express a desire to see my necklace, but instead, she snatched and clawed at the air. I stumbled back, crashing into the cabinets behind the counter. A teacup tumbled off its shelf, shattering against the tiled floor.
“No!” I spat. “Take your head and get the hell out of my property.”
Emilia’s stare darkened, her eyes raw with something unnervingly unreadable. She strode toward the door but paused just before crossing the threshold.
"You forgot your head," I hissed.
She tilted her head slightly - acknowledging, but never fully turning toward me.
"Oh, I'm not leaving," she said, now smiling. "Not yet."
Her palm pressed against the door, and horror spread through me as frost flashed across its surface. The walls groaned, cracking under the sudden chill. There was a blizzard inside my shop, with its snowflakes, just large enough to reveal their intricate patterns if one cared to squint, crashing around me. They twisted through the air, growing denser by the second. I clenched my arms around myself, fighting the frigid air. Cups and chairs became upturned as the fireplace folded itself away in terror.
“Please,” I whispered. “Just leave me alone.”
Emilia marched past old Beth, the poor thing trembling violently. Instead, Emelia lifted a single hand, cocking it slightly to the side. Liquid nitrogen spilled from her fingertips. Mist coiled at her feet, pooling into a sea of frost.
“Let me illustrate the point - you are not getting out of here alive,” Emilia said, matter-of-fact.
“Unless you hand over whatever hangs around your neck.”
Then XX-35 sprang into action. I was almost cheering when he reached Emilia at lightning pace. With his hydraulic arms poised to bash the creature into place, Emilia suddenly pivoted, stumbling away only to just evade the strike. With a single, desperate flick of her wrist, an icicle erupted from the mist beneath her - long and sharp, it pierced directly into XX-35’s chest and leveraged him into the air.
He floundered, feet kicking above the ground as his arms scrabbled uselessly against the ice. Emilia exhaled sharply, brushing back a stray lock of hair before patting herself down.
“My qualm isn’t with you, machine.”
Emellia now brought her attention towards me and I let out a cry.
“Now, if memory serves… Humans don’t survive being impaled through the…” She paused, examining the word. “-oh yes, the heart. That’s it. Nor the neck, spine, or head. Truly you’re an incompetent breed.”
“What are you?” I croaked. I wasn’t frozen. Not yet. But I couldn’t move.
“Desperate,” Emilia said simply. "I need that mirror shard fastened around your neck. I can take it alone, or bring your neck along with it. I am being diplomatic."
I looked down, prying my hand off my chest, and unveiled the thing. Oh, how it gleamed.
The shard - glass, crocked and simple - shouldn’t have been this beautiful. But it was. It sparkled like diamonds, or perhaps something grander: the ocean under sunset’s glow.
Lord, I began praying for warmth.
Emilia grinned as her eyes rested upon it. The bags under her eyes deepened, her lips curdling into something unreadable.
The pendant felt heavier now, a weight hanging around my throat like iron. Pressure coiled in the back of my mind, a siren's call unnoticed until now. A voice echoing in my thoughts.
Do not do it. Do not do it. I am yours. I am mine. You are mine.
Yes, I thought in return. This piece of glass is mine.
Warmth pulsed against my palm, but my skin remained ice-cold. Images flickered through my mind, and I realized it was my life from beginning to end and beyond. The days I saw I dared not describe, secrets burning like fire too fierce to share. If I were to trade what I saw, Lord knows the price the broker would pay. It was too much for me to dare retain by its totality.
I think that's how I knew we were going to die.
Yet… I hadn’t lived it. Strange.
No. Never mind.
My gaze snapped toward the neglected head, still perched on the table.
Greed strengthened me.
I lunged, grabbed one of the decorative frying pans from the wall, and hurled it with all my strength. It crashed against Min, sending him rolling onto the snow-covered floor with a wail.
Emilia glanced at her companion, unimpressed. She shrugged before turning back—her hand thrusting toward me.
And then -
Pain.
Nothing like the cold I had expected. Something far worse. Blood burned as it froze solid within me.
I couldn’t move.
Emilia plucked the necklace from my neck with ease, turning away without a second thought. She gathered her bodiless companion, muttered something condescending, and then simply smashed open a window with a chair before disappearing into the night.
XX-35 was crying, struggling, and then succeeding to free himself from the icicle. He raced to collect a limp Beth and then lept away. He started running, not even looking at me…
I don’t remember where he would have gone. To find an officer, maybe?
I don’t remember much at all now.
But thank you for listening, dear.
Tell me…Where am I?
The Woman in Black was simply smiling. Nodding to every odd and end by Gording. This figure of darkness didn’t seem to notice that Gording was paralyzed against the wall with her limbs frozen and dead. Under the flashing lights of a medical van, Gording could see illustrations of skulls swimming within the blackness of the Figure's raincoat.
“…Where am I?” Gording whispered.
Paramedics were climbing desperately through the window and hopelessly gawking at the scene.
“We need extra-ordinary help if we’re to save her. Contact the Sharpen Academy!” Barked a Senior Paramedic.
They moved with routine, pushing through the shock and past the Woman in Black. Most couldn’t notice her, although at times the ones who had seen too much found themselves looking in its direction.
“Are you here to help me…?” Groaned Gording.
The Woman said something that made Gording smile.
“Of course Gording, we’re here for you.” Said one Paramedic, staring hopelessly at his medical bag.
The Midnight Woman took a step forward
“What…what will you do…?”
The Woman said something soothing. Gording began dreaming of her late mother.
By now various paramedics were chipping away at the ice concealing Golding, whose eyes began to fog as she began dipping in and out of consciousness. The Woman in Black drew closer, smiling every so faintly yet kind all the same. The Force in the Shape of a Woman didn’t mind waiting, not that she minded anything. It had been waiting for a good while, since before the first spark and of course, she’d be there long after that brief spark flared out.
She’d be there for Larken too.
Very soon.
Although Emilia was far away, this Woman could see her stepping into an orb of light that continued within a set of golden rings, which were in turn attached to a brilliant snow-sled.
Emilia faded from Larkan, not for the last time.
There were forces, prescribed by others as lower than the Force before Gordng, playing games with those lower than them. The Visitor at the End had no interest in the matter, for it was an infantile game. It was nothing unexpected, and nothing old. Nothing was old. Not to the Woman in Black.