Deal at the Crossroads

[BattlePixie]

It hadn’t taken any time at all, though she wasn’t sure how much time it should have taken, as she had no experience with this type of thing.

A simple and plain farm girl, ordinary beyond compare and easily overlooked, which is probably how she got her hands on that wizard’s book. No one noticed her take it, well no one noticed her period, but that was soon to change. She had studied that book every day after finishing her chores, studied the ancient and arcane writings until she could recite them by heart. And just like the book had said, she penned her desires onto that small piece of paper and, under the light of the first full moon, buried them at the crossroads. She hadn’t even had a chance to stand from her task when she noticed he was there, leaning on the fencepost.

He was tall and lean, some would even say gaunt; dressed in black and wearing shoes of hard leather that were shone to a mirror finish. His hat was set forward on his head and cocked slightly to one side. The brim concealing his face in shadow, though his eyes peered through the black, glowing a dull red.

“Evenin’ darlin’” the man spoke as he touched the brim of his hat. “You’ve cast your wish into the night, and it’ll be my pleasure to see it come true.”

“I... uh…” she stammered, but he was there, only a step in front of her. His hand wrapped around her waist, firmly pulling her close to him. He was stronger than he looked.

“Shh, darlin’. I know what you need.” He put a finger to her lips. He smelled of sulphur and brimstone, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body in the cold night.

“I’ll make you a singer, honey. Give you a voice the gods would cry for.” His lips parted in a sly grin exposing his needle like teeth. She could see that the tendrils of smoke that came from under his hat were not from any tobacco, but from his nostrils as he exhaled.

“But..I..” she began, but he just pulled her closer, brushing the hair away from her ear before whispering into it.

“Darlin’, the deal’s done.” His hot breath traced a line along her jaw as he firmly embraced her and forcefully pressed his lips to hers. She struggled against his hold as smoke filled her lungs and her head swam, dizzy from lack of oxygen and the heat of his body pressed against hers.

Then as quick as it had begun, she was free of him, falling to the dusty road. Coughing with a force she was certain would break bones, or tear the lungs from her body. She managed to bring herself onto her hands and knees.

Looking down into a puddle lit by the silvery moonlight, she saw her reflection, but was it? Her hair was the colour of burnt copper and her skin was, well, perfect and much darker than before. She explored her new face with her hands, watching the refection.

“Oh my..” she spoke to herself, but it wasn’t her voice. The words rolled past her lips like warm molasses; low, smokey and sensual. With a satisfied grin she picked herself up and dusted off her old farm dress.

“Oh, this won't do.” She spoke to herself. “I need some new clothes.” With that she turned on her heel and sauntered with a sultry sway of her hips, toward the trade post.

[BattlePixie]

They knew she was a singer. It’s probably why they invited her to travel with them, and she was too tired of walking to refuse the ride. How long had she travelled down this road? Days? Since the last new moon? The miles seemed to smear into one long and dusty memory.

Long shadows began to chase the caravan and she let a sly grin cross her lips; the sun was setting. They would find a place to camp soon and she knew they would want her to sing. She would protest of course, but they would insist. They heard her voice when she spoke and it fascinated them, they wanted more.

As the sun shed its final rays of warm light before being chased away by the dark, she found herself embraced by the low glow of a campfire. It hadn’t taken them long to find a suitable place to circle the wagons and make camp. She had protested again when they insisted she entertain them, but of course it was no use. They had made their choice and would have to live with it.

They huddled around her, women cuddled their children, men looked on with desire and longing as she stood their. Her foot tapped out a slow and methodical beat as she closed her eyes. She could never watch them as she sang, she could never watch what her singing did. Her skilled fingers teased a series of cords from her guitar as she began to sway her hips from side to side.

“When that evenin’ sun goes down…”
“Yeah, you’ll find me hangin’ ‘round…”
“Because the night life, ain’t no good life…”
“But it’s my life.”

She continued to sway, her eyes closed. The cords she played, and the sweet, smokey sound of her voice, it was her only world now. Nothing else existed.

“Oh, all the people just like you and me…”
“Ooooh, they all dreamin’ ‘bout what they use to be…”
“I wanna tell you the night life…”
“It ain’t no good life people…”
“Yeeaah, but it’s my life.”

She drew out a couple more quick cords as she continued to tap out a slow beat with her foot.

“Heeey, they tell me in life…”
“Life is just an empty scene…”
“Oh, ooh, an avenue of broken dreaamss…”
“But I tell you the night life…”
“Yes, it ain’t no good life…”
“Heeey, but it’s my life.”

She paused a moment. Her foot ceased its tapping, her fingers still on the strings of her instrument. Only the sound of the fire crackling could be heard. Slowly she opened her eyes to look upon her audience.

The scene before her was chaotic. One man had stabbed another through the neck before himself being bludgeoned to death. They both lay against a wagon in a macabre embrace. Another man lay charred where he had been lit on fire, and a few more had been crushed when one of the wagons had been turned over. Some sat where they had when it all began though, still clutching their children. But their skin was wrinkled, brown like old leather and tight across their bones. Their eyes had sunk into their sockets, void of all life.

She walked over to an overturned chest, which spilled out a river of gold. Leaning down she took a few pieces as payment for her performance, then stepped over the rest. She stopped at one man who had been strangled, his tongue lolled out to one side. She reached down and took a wide brimmed hat that rested at his feet, and after a short inspection and a satisfied nod she placed it forward on her head, cocked to one side. A mischievous grin slipped across her lips again, barely visible from under the brim of her new hat.

“I warned them you know darlin’.“ she spoke as she picked her way through the carnage in the camp. “But they wouldn’t listen.”

“I know.” Said a lone dark figure as he leaned against a wagon; tendrils of smoke curled out from the shadows that concealed his face.

“Some would call it a curse you know.” She picked up a half full whiskey bottle and uncorked it.

"They'll probably try to burn me at the stake like that last town." She swirled the bottle, critically eyeing the liquor within.

"And how did that work out?"

"I'm still here ain't I?"

“So what do you think of your gift then honey?” Said the man as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I think…" she paused a moement cradeling the whiskey bottle.

"I Think I’ll never get to know all the dirty little secrets these people were hiding darlin’.” She took a drink from the bottle before tossing it back to the ground.

“…and that gives me the blues.” She strode out onto the road and continued her journey, silently into the moonlight.