Raised By Cain
Cain the caretaker arrived home late to The House of Mystery after having spent the entire day visiting with his younger brother, Abel, in The House of Secrets across the cemetery. He pulled an old brass key from the pocket of his blue suede jacket and stuck it into the rusty lock of the front door which kept all of his mysteries locked safely within the house. Instead of the usual click of the tumbler turning, though, there was silence. The door was already unlocked.
Cain scowled. What the hell is this, he thought. He didn't like surprises and was not in the mood for any nonsense. Ever. Still, he'd have to get to the bottom of this, so he adjusted the small round glasses on his long, pointy nose, threw open the door, and stepped into his house filled more with annoyance than with any trepidation.
The entry hall was completely dark, but in the distance Cain could see the flickering light of a fire coming from the sitting room. He stalked towards it quickly. He wasn't scared of who might be in there waiting for him. He was never really scared of anything. He was, however, quite scary himself when he was mad.
He entered the sitting room in a huff and was fully prepared to start shouting insults at whoever was in there, but when he saw who it was he stopped dead and all words left his brain. Standing by a large window, with her voluptuous figure silhouetted against the full moon, was Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.
"Well it took ya long enough to get here. I've been bangin' around this rat trap for hours waiting for ya," said the vamp, gesturing emphatically with her well manicured hands.
"What… in the name of Jackson Pollocks' polypsis are YOU doing here?" said Cain, regaining his usual charming demeanor. "I thought I got rid of you ages ago."
"Yeah, good to see you too, Cainy old boy," said Elvira.
She flounced over towards the caretaker, then passed him, so close that her beehive hairdo brushed against his pointy beard. Cain screwed up his face and then watched as the woman walked over to a leather armchair near the door and sat down in it like she owned the place.
"Take a seat Cain, there's something important we need to discuss," she said.
"Do not tell me what to do in my own house. How did you even get in here anyway?" Cain demanded, angrily.
Elvira reached into her pale and ample cleavage and produced a small brass key on a long chain. It matched the one Cain had exactly.
"Once a caretaker, always a caretaker," said Elvira with a wink.
Cain sighed. It was exhausting being grouchy twenty-four seven and past experience with the Mistress of the Dark had taught him that it was better just to play along with her rather than try to intimidate her, so instead he plopped himself down on an old gray sofa.
"What's this all about?" he asked in an even voice.
"Weeell…," said Elvira, kicking one leg out and then standing up.
Cain remembered that she could never sit still for five seconds. It annoyed him, but at the same time he envied her energy.
Elvira paced for a moment trying to find her words.
"Do you remember that little… thing we had a while back?" she finally asked.
Cain recalled the brief fling the two of them had shared shortly after he had returned to reclaim his house from her many years prior. It was something he didn't like to remember often, except sometimes late at night when the weather was particularly cold, or he was feeling particularly lonely.
"Yes," he said.
"Specifically, do you remember that little thing we had in the bed of room thirteen?" she asked.
Cain sat up erect.
"Oh, that," he said. "What about that?"
Elvira continued to walk about the room nervously fidgeting with the red ring on her right hand.
"Well I've been thinking a lot about that night lately…" she said.
"It was a long time ago," said Cain. "We'd both had a little too much brandy that night and it was Dia de los Muertos after all. Neither of us was in our right mind."
"Yeah, you aint just whistling Dixie," Elvira interjected.
"Buuut if it meant so much to you that you decided to come all the way back here to The House of Mystery now just to try and reignite a spark, well, I suppose…"
"Oh, puh-leez," said Elvira, walking over to where a velvet curtain separated the sitting room from the room next door. "Go buy a vowel. I am not here to try and stir all THAT up again."
Cain frowned.
"Then what is the purpose of this unexpected and frankly unwanted visit? Why have you come?"
"We had to," said Elvira.
"We?" said Cain.
Dramatically, Elvira pulled aside the velvet curtain. Behind it stood a small boy with pointy black hair, pale skin, and an outfit that wouldn't look out of place on Eddie Munster. In his arms he held an orange cat.
"Me… and your son, Klarion," said Elvira, gesturing to the boy.
Cain looked at the kid and then at Elvira. He knew that she had, what some might describe as, a sense of humor, but the look on her face now told him that this time she was being deadly serious. He suddenly became very scared.