"Thank you, again. For, uh, you know."
"No problem. It's important to do for your own."
Dirk's truck rolled up to John's driveway. The clock on the dash read three minutes after four. The street was well lit with overhead lights, so Dirk flipped his headlights off to avoid shining them into John's windows.
Dirk turned the key off, silencing the engine and sighed. He put his head in his hands and tiredly slumped against the steering wheel.
"Thanks," John mumbled again, reluctant to leave the heated cab.
"You're welcome," Dirk said, muffled by his hands. He sniffed loudly, wiping his face with his hands and took a deep breath. "Come on, I'll unlock your door."
Right. John had forgotten all about the door locks.
As quietly as he could, John bailed out of the truck. He shut the door softly, and walked up his front steps with Dirk right behind him. He wished his feet didn't scuff so loudly on his sidewalk.
The Egbert's front door was steel, painted a pleasant shade of brown, flanked by two huge pumpkins John's father had picked up at the store. Inside, the door had two deadbolts on top of the regular lock. Being a police officer, John was sure Dirk was just going to pick the locks. He probably learned it at work or in training or something.
Instead, the older man closed his eyes, focused, and waved a hand over the door. The door pulsed with intent, orange waves rolling off of it, flowing freely until they faded into the autumnal air. It only took a moment, and as his hand moved down the cold steel John could hear the locks unlatching one by one.
Dirk reached out and took the knob, turned it and opened it for John. He blinked the orange out of his irises, and motioned for John to go inside.
"Thanks," John said a third time. That was pretty cool, he had to admit.
"Welcome. I'll be up the rest of the night, but I gotta be to work at six. Call me if you need anything," Dirk replied, yawning. John nodded, yawning too, and shut the door behind him. The locks click back into place all by themselves as he ascended the steps, but John did not turn around to watch them.
John was exhausted. Stumbling through the dark to his bedroom was a challenge.
He shucked his wet clothes off on his bedroom floor and put on thicker flannel pajama pants and a clean, long sleeved shirt. He was freezing, and he wrapped himself back up in his bed, leaning against his headboard.
There was a good chance if he fell back asleep, he wouldn't hear his alarm to get up for school. John figured he might as well stay up. His dad would be up in an hour to get ready for work. He could go downstairs with him and they could drink coffee together.
The first thing John did was pull out his phone and check social media. Somebody had to be posting something, even if it was late at night. He went through three accounts with nothing to show for it , but that made sense. It was a school night after all. Can't post memes at three when you have to use your brain at eight.
John was about to start checking for new vlog updates when a thought struck him. The internet was a huge, huge place. Maybe it had some answers for him? John fired up his internet app and typed 'demon' into the search engine.
The results were generic. A couple news articles about horrible politicians, a few ads for television shows. A ton of Halloween costumes and decorations popped up, but that was to be expected with the holiday fast approaching. John decided to alter his search.
Instead he typed 'demon attack', which brought up similarly unhelpful results.
Finally he deleted it all together and searched 'soul split.'
The first few returns were Wikipedia pages, and after skimming them, John found they were nothing like what he was experiencing. He hit the back button and kept looking. The remaining links on the page went to churches, an alcoholics anonymous support group, and a doggie daycare. Frowning, John went to the next page.
The first link read Super Natural Help Forum and John's interest was piqued. He tapped it, and evaluated the page in front of him. It was a forum site, just like the title suggested, and appeared to be sectioned into boards by supernatural occurrence. "Ghosts"had it own board with subboards, organized by type of ghost and type of haunt. "Cryptids"had its own too. The first thread read "Bigfoot is real and he tried to suck my dick". John quickly hit the back button. He was too tired for this shit.
At last, he found demons under "Religious Occurrences", though Vriska didn't have a single religious tie to her. These must be mortal people, John decided, not witches. Halfway down the page he found a thread titled 'deal with the devil?' and navigated to that.
The original post detailed a person who was approached by a man with unnaturally sharp teeth and violet eyes. The man attempted to make a deal with the OP, who declined. The original poster asked if they should be wary and wanted to know how to rid themselves of any lingering bad karma.
The people on this website were loony, John decided, but he kept scrolling. Four pages in, he saw a post that caught his attention. Someone by the username of xwitchkitty96x. John wasn't sure if she really was a witch or if that was just a screen name. She did explain something similar to what Rose had, that it was good that OP had not made a deal, and that the demon would lose interest if he hadn't already. The original poster commented back, asking what he should have done if he accidentally had?
John furrowed his eyebrows at the witch's response.
'Xwitchkitty96x said: The only remedy I know is to trade back what was taken. However, trading with demons is dicey. Finding out what they want is…difficult.'
The words were staring him right in the face but John wasn't sure what to make of them. John checked the timing of the thread's creation, and discovered it was over two years ago. However, it appeared that xwitchkitty96x was still active on the website, as early as a day ago. John quickly made an account on the website and clicked the private message button on the witch's profile.
Before he began typing, John heard the floorboards creak and he froze. A few more familiar thumps told him that his father was awake. John selected the chat box and began typing.
Ectobiologist said: I saw your post on a thread about trading with demons. I was just wondering, for my own reference, how do I find out what a demon wants to trade for? Your post suggested there was a way to find out.
John hit the send button and sighed just as the hall light flicked on and his father's shadow passed by under his door. Well, now was as good a time as any, John figured.
He stood up and turned on his bedroom light, blinking away the strain the brightness caused his pupils. John quickly changed his clothes to prevent further chill. He left on his grey long sleeved shirt and pulled a tee shirt on over it. His favorite Ghostbusters shirt was dirty, so this plain blue one would have to do. John got the thickest pair of socks he owned out of his drawer and chose a pair of jeans without tears in them. Warmth over style, John decided.
When John made his way downstairs, he found his dad in the chair already, sipping on a mug of fresh coffee. The morning news was on, and the weather report advised an umbrella today.
"You're up early, John," his father commented. His voice was gravely, not fully awake and maybe a little grumpy.
"I wanted to have coffee with you," John grinned, hoping the low lighting in the living room wouldn't give away the bags under his eyes.
Jack grinned back and took a drink off his mug. John retrieved his own warm mug and settled in the couch, clutching it in his still cold fingers. Jack only had a half an hour before he had to leave for work. John left his house at six, and arrived at school at six fifteen. The doors were open, despite classes not starting until seven forty.
John's first hour English teacher was a nice lady, he guessed, but she wasn't here yet. Most teachers weren't. Most kids weren't. After only a few minutes at his locker, John loitered around until the warning bell rung, then hustled to class.
John settled into his seat, pulled his assigned reading out of his bag and found his notebook. The teacher walked in right as the late bell rung and asked how everyone's weekend was. John declined to answer.
Class started. They were supposed to be reading Their Eyes Were Watching God, but John couldn't focus on the recorded voice reading the book to them via their teacher's CD player. He wanted to check his phone, to see if the witch had responded to his message. John resisted though, because he knew if his teacher saw his phone she would take it and his dad would have to get it back from the office. Instead, he pretended to follow along in the book.
When the bell rang, John gathered his things in a hurry and rushed off to his locker where he could check his phone and grab his books for his next class.
There was a jam in the hallway, as overcrowded public schools tend to have, and John barely made it to his Algebra II class. His French class was all the way on the other side of the school and his fourth hour creative writing class was so busy he didn't get a chance to even look at his notes much less his phone.
Lunch finally came. John whipped out his phone before he even left the classroom, and opened the internet to the message forum. He clicked his username and his inbox and to his dismay , the box was empty. Sighing, he picked up his bag and sulked to the lunchroom.
The entire room reeked of grease and the roar of everyone talking at once was a little overwhelming. John grabbed a slice of cardboard pizza and flopped himself down at the usual lunch table. Dave was already sitting there, eating the same disgusting thing he got everyday for lunch, a fucking mystery casserole with carrot sticks on the side.
"Hey man, what crawled up your ass, died, and gave you sepsis?" Dave inquired, plastic fork shoveling another mouthful of food down his gullet.
"Okay, first of all, gross. Second of all, I thought I found a lead on my uh, problem. Didn't pan out. Or hasn't yet?" John answered.
Dave was, unsurprisingly, the weird kid in school. He liked dead shit and talked all over the place and made strange comics. People steered clear of Dave, and John when they were together.
Dave smirked. "I heard about last night."
"Ugh," John groaned, "I'm so tired."
"I should think so," came a lofty voice from behind him. John didn't have to turn around to know it was Rose.
"To what do we owe the honor, my ladyship? I thought you only sat by your cool friends?" Dave quirked an eyebrow at his sister.
"I came to see how John was, thank you," the younger Strider sibling hissed.
"Oh, come on guys! Don't fight!"
John didn't recognize that voice. He decided to turn around then, and took in the sight before him. On the cafeteria backdrop stood Rose, her hair banded back and her favorite orange zip up jacket, the one with the bright sun on it, left open.
There was a brown haired girl standing next to her, wearing a pair of sparkly red flats with an Ironman tee shirt. John noted all of the strings tied around her fingers, and her large, circle rimmed glasses.
"Oh, hi John!"
She knew his name? Oh! Wait, John did know her.
"Hi. Jade, right?"
The brunette nodded enthusiastically and hummed a quick "mhm!"
"So what's shaken, lady bacons?" Dave asked.
"I just told you, dummy. I'm here to see how John is," Rose rolled her eyes a little harder than she needed too. She came around the lunch table and sat down next to her brother. Jade sat on her other side.
"Yeah!" Jade agreed, "That was pretty scary last night!"
John looked from Jade to Rose, his face contorted in confusion, then Dave, who just sort of shrugged. What? "Last night? But how did you know about that?"
Jade just sort of grinned and waited.
John looked back to Rose, who wasn't going to give up any information anytime soon. She smiled like a fox, folding her hands in her lap.
"But you weren't there," John tried to reason.
"Wasn't I?" Jade countered.
"No you-" and then it clicked. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
"Magic folk stay together," Rose said quietly.
John could hardly believe this shit. Quirky, one year younger than him, junior in high school, Jade was a werewolf? That answered so many questions but posed so many, many more.
"Did you plan that?" John asked, in awe and disbelief.
"Oh, no, we didn't! The other there, that was my grandpa Jake by the way. We don't live very far away from that spot and Grandpa knew right away when she entered our territory," Jade said, still smiling. She, meaning Vriska.
"So you, he uh," John stammered, "did you, you know, get her?"
"Unfortunately not," Jade gave a little frown. "But she's down an arm now. And an eye I think. She ran pretty hard through the brush with us on her tail."
John wasn't sure if he was relieved of distressed. Jade's expression continued south still, looking more serious.
"I did want to talk to you though. What you were about to do when we interrupted, don't do it, alright? That's all I'm going to say."
John considered her words for a long minute. He wasn't sure about agreeing. On the one hand, dealing with Vriska in the past had not ended well for him, she might have been cheating him then. But the the temptation… everything she offered sounded so good. What he could do with that luck power-up.
"What went down with Vriska, John? Something we didn't hear about?" Dave quizzed. He wasn't nonchalant about it either.
"Nothing," John had to say, looking straight into the face of someone he'd almost made a decision for. "Vriska was just in my head is all."
Dave regarded his best friend very seriously for just a second before he accepted John's words and brushed off the incident all together. It was strange, John decided. He'd never seen Dave do that before.
"You gonna eat that?" was all Dave had to say, pointing at his now cold pizza.
John frowned and pushed it his way.
"I don't know how you can eat this garbage," Jade made a face like she was about to gag.
"God bless the State of Michigan school lunch program," Dave declared between bites, grinning like something was funny.
"You're vile." Rose looked positively revolted.
John turned away from the spectacle and checked his phone again to save his stomach any trouble. He refreshed the page and sure enough, next to his inbox was an excited exclamation point, bright red and begging for his attention. John pressed it as fast as he could.
Xwitchkitty96x said: well hello, Ectobiologist, the message read, demons are a funny, fickle thing. If you are not involved with demons currently, head my warning and do. Not. Get. Involved.
John rolled his eyes but continued reading.
I fear that you are already, so let's cut to the chase. To answer your question, there are two ways to find what a demon wants most to trade for. One, ask them. This is extremely dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. Two, ask the demon's creator. This can sometimes be hard because they may belong dead, or missing, or indisposed . I hope this was helpful.
John typed out a quick thank you and sighed. That hadn't been helpful at all.
Vriska would just as soon skin him as she would answer a straight question, and Kanaya had mentioned her creator was dead. Shit out of luck again.
"What's wrong, John?" Rose asked.
"Yeah, what's so interesting you're ignoring the greatest thing to ever hit Pheasant River High school? Me. I mean me. Forget the girls," Dave added.
"Oh, nothing. Just," John huffed, "I was online this morning and I thought I found something. It wasn't very helpful."
"Hm?" Rose hummed, her thin eyebrows raising with interest, "what sort of something?"
"Well you know how the book says to change me back I have to trade?" John asked rhetorically, tucking away his phone, "Well I basically found that. And we already established we don't know what Vriska wants to trade for. So then I message someone and they said I could either ask Vriska or-"
"That's suicide dude, you'd get your face torn off," Dave interjected.
"Or?" Rose inquired, swatting at her brother to hush up.
"Or I could ask her creator. Who's dead," John said, crestfallen. His shoulders sagged and he leaned over the table, propping himself up only by an arm. The really was beginning to feel hopeless.
The table was quiet for a long, awkward moment before Dave sighed and spoke.
"Hey man, don't get too dejected. Mom's still looking."
John still frowned.
"Yeah! It's okay, John!" Jade assured, "you shouldn't get hung up on this. Rose's mom will find something eventually."
"Yeah," John agreed unenthusiastically. He'd lost his appetite already, so the feeling deep in his stomach must be dread.
"I have an idea," Rose stated suddenly. The table's attention turned to her.
John watched Rose pull her phone out of her pocket and she googled something, moving too fast for John to see. Tensely, the group watched her. John recognized the site she was on as the county records website.
"Right here it is," Rose said, clicking a link. Jade leaned over her shoulder, watching her switch screens and navigate the site. John couldn't see much upside down. Rose typed in something and hit a search button. A single result popped up and she pressed in to that.
"You gonna let us in on this idea?" Dave smarted, moving to stack his empty plates on top of each other.
"This is a historic birth and death record for Terezi Pyrope, the creator," Rose spoke, "it says right here she's buried in the cemetery up on Hill Creek Road. I was thinking maybe we should pay her a visit."
"Aw, no, Rose!" Dave groaned, "no, Jesus no. Don't you remember the last time you bewitched some shady ass creature from the great beyond? You know, on Saturday? Mom had your ass. Seriously, shit's like Batman in ripped tights. Bad news for all parties involved."
Rose made her disdain clear with a loud scoff. "Sure Dave, don't help John. Let him stay that way forever."
John could see a brief look of guilt take over Dave's face before he got pissy.
"Yeah okay, Rose, like I meant it like that."
"Are you serious, Rose?" John asked in disbelief, "you can do that?"
"Sweetheart, I'm a witch. I can do anything," the blonde replied slyly.
The bell rung then, signaling the end of the lunch hour and interrupting their conversation. Great. John had five minutes to go to his locker and get to class.
"I'll get ahold of you tonight, John. Meet us up there," Rose instructed, tucking her phone away and rising. Jade was up even before her.
"Later," Dave bid, picking up his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.
"See you," John waved a hand after them. Finally, after the lunchroom had mostly cleared out, John got up and left for his next class.
Two more hours til the end of the school day. John's chemistry class kept him too busy to worry about much other than hydrogen and covalent bonds, while his final class of the day, drafting, dragged on.
John carried on his day in a sort of limbo. He felt hopeful, and excited. There might actually be something they could do for him! But on the other hand, he was nervous. What if it turned out to be nothing? What if Rose wasn't able to contact the creator? When the final bell rung, John hurried out to his car.
The house was empty when John arrived home. His father's job at a neighboring town's sugar factory was a good one, but sometimes it kept him away longer than John liked. Growing up, Jack took a shift where he could get up with John in the morning, but a neighbor had to get him off to school. His dad was always home when he got off the bus though. They'd have a snack together and do homework right after. That way John could play the rest of the night.
Old habits died hard. John grabbed an apple and dropped himself over the living room couch to do his homework. He read the chapter he'd ignored in English, did a couple practice French phrases, and did an assigned chemistry worksheet. He finished with everything on the inside of an hour and a half.
He took a nap promptly after shoving everything back into his school bag.
Familiar vibrations pulled him from the shallow hold of sleep. John blinked awake and blindly went for his cellphone. It wasn't ringing, John realized it was his bond string. Specifically the one that connected to Rose. It must be time then. John tugged back twice and the vibrations ceased.
It wasn't quite sunset yet, but it was getting that way. Shouldn't his father be home?
"Dad?" John called through the house.
"In the kitchen, John," Jack called back.
Still a bit groggy, John pushed himself up off the couch and wandered into the house's kitchen. John found his father scrubbing counter tops, the dishes done and a fresh pot of coffee on. He had his pipe pinned between his teeth, puffing away. He grinned as John entered the room.
When John was a kid, probably about four or so, his mother passed away. He didn't remember her well, but he missed her. Right after she passed, John remembered how messy the house got. It was that way for months. He didn't understand what was happening at the time, he couldn't comprehend what was wrong with his dad, but he was part of the effort one cloudy day in May when they cleaned the house from top to bottom. Jack never let it get dirty again.
"Got up too early?" His father asked, throwing the dish rag into the sink as he finished up.
"Something like that," John nodded stiffly. God, how long had he been asleep? A thousand years?
"What are you thinking about for dinner? We could order out," his father offered. John frowned. The one time his dad offered to go out, and he had to leave.
"I'm actually gonna go see Dave for a while, I think, sorry," John replied. "He said he needed my help with the book in English. Some of the words are kind of hard to understand with the dialect."
"That's fine," Jack accepted. He had no reason not to. "Tell me what you want and you can eat when you get home. Or are you going to eat there?"
"Would you bring me home a burger and fries from the restaurant up in town?" John went for his jacket that hung on the wall in the kitchen, grabbing his keys off of the hook.
"I will. Drive safe, alright?" His father bid.
"I will," John smiled, and passed back through the living room on the way to the front door.
"It's a school night! Don't stay out too long!" Jack shouted, just as John shut the door.
John would have to see about that. He started his car, turning the heat on low to combat the slight chill, and started down the road.
Hill Creek road ran almost the entire length of the county, but the only cemetery on it was outside of town, in the country where the small farms were settled. John drove past pastures of horses and small cattle operations. In some yards, chickens still made their way to bed with the sunset. The cemetery was nestled between a three acre gravel pit lake and a sugar beat field.
The cemetery was very, very old. John pulled up to the wrought iron gate and studied the pointed tips of the fencing as he got out. The hinges on the gate required a lot of extra effort to push them open. With his face pressed up against the iron, he noted the wording on the metal, Established 1770.
The inside of the graveyard wasn't what John was expecting. Bushes and brambles grew up wild with no gardener to trim them. Leaves piled up with no one to rake them. Headstones crumbled and what few stone crosses were left were sinking into the earth. There must be so many unmarked graves, John thought. How were they ever going to find the creator's grave?
John drove inside, and he shut the gates behind him, but that was as far as he went. There was no road, only an overgrown, packed down dirt path left by year's and years of use. Hoofing it was probably the best way. The trail went up a small hill, and at the top of it, John spotted a familiar blonde head of hair.
Rose was sitting on the ground when he approached, her legs swept under her and the grimoire in her lap. Splayed out in front of her were full cans of salt and candles of every shape and size. She wore a long grey shirt, paired with black leggings, and John wondered if that would be enough to keep her warm. The sun continued its descent out of the sky.
"Hey, Rose," John called from a distance. He didn't want to scare her.
"Hello, John," she greeted, raising a hand to wave at him. She didn't turn around and she didn't look up from the book.
"Where's Dave and Jade?" John quizzed, looking over her shoulder. The grimoire's pages were yellowed by time and tore in some places. It had probably been rebound at some point to look as
good as it did. John couldn't read its words, however, and he wondered which language it was in.
"Dave went to, and I quote, take a leek. Jade is over there," Rose motioned to a large oak tree, probably older than the cemetery and thicker than the hood of a truck. At the foot of it's wide girth was an extremely large dog. Wolf. A large wolf.
John could see her better now with the setting sun than he could in the dark of that morning. Her fur was the same shade of rich brown as her hair, but her brilliant green eyes had been dulled to a dark black. She looked smaller than she had before, but it might have just been because she was laying down.
"Hey, Jade," John grinned. Her tail thumped on the leafy ground in greeting.
"Jade has chosen to observe tonight. She won't be joining us when I raise Terezi here from the ground," Rose said, turning a page. She squinted at it a moment before turning it back to reread.
"This is her grave?" John asked, looking down and quickly taking a step back.
Rose only pointed to a small chunk of white stone. It had probably once been a headstone, but now it was broken beyond recognition. It read very simply Terezi Pyrope, under that 1787 - 1801.
Wow, she'd only been fourteen? That was incredibly sad.
"She was hung for witchcraft, but usually those people didn't get headstones, and they didn't get buried in a Christian cemetery. I think her father probably paid for it," Rose mused. Sighing, she laid the book down in the grass and picked up a candle.
"Where's Dave with the lighter, the one time I need him?"
"Does anyone know we're out here?" John asked, looking behind him to check on his car.
"My mother is so drunk she can't walk, and if Dirk knew we wouldn't be out here," Rose answered.
"So, no?"
Rose just sort of frowned and said, "Jade's grandfather probably does."
"Right," John said, "so are we supposed to be out here?"
"Yes, I suppose it's alright. All the police know we're Dirk's siblings and also, if you look over there," she pointed off to the left, "there's a Caroline Strider buried here. I'm sure she's related somehow."
"Rose, I found the coolest grave stone over- oh hey, John!" Dave rounded the tree, stepping up behind the shattered headstone. He fixed his shirt and maybe checked his fly. John snickered.
"Hey, Dave."
"Lighter," Rose commanded, reaching out a hand to grab for it. Dave fished a red plastic lighter out of his pocket and pressed it into her palm.
Rose lit the candle in her hand and placed it at the base of the stone. After clearing away ones she didn't plan to use, she then lit three others, and laid them out in a diamond pattern. One directly in front of her, one in front of the stone, and one on each side.
"I'm going to put salt down. I'm sitting across from the stone, so sit down on the two sides," Rose instructed. She picked up the salt and opened it, poking a hole in the cardboard lid and shaking it lightly. The first precise line of salt she made followed the diamond with the candles on the outside, to keep the spirit contained. The next line of salt followed the same pattern, this time with the candles on the inside. This would create a barrier for anything on the outside. The last circle she made was around Jade, protecting her friend.
She tossed the fourth empty can of salt in the grass and sat down directly in line with the stone. John and Dave settled on the other two points.
"Alright," Rose said loudly, attracting attention. "I'm going to try to summon Terezi into the inner circle. If for some reason I get possessed er- if something goes wrong then you should, well, I guess we should just hope that doesn't happen."
"Rose, I swear to god if you bring home any nasty spirits, or attach something to us, or if you turn in to the fucking grudge, I'll douse your ass in salt faster than you can say 'boo,'" Dave said in warning. Rose rolled her eyes.
"Just shut up so I can start."
Rose glanced down at the book in her lap. John watched her fingers flex on her knees and she took a deep, deep breath.
"Terezi Pyrope," Rose's voice echoed. It was like she was deep in some dark cavern, or standing on the edge of a canyon. Her voice was hollow, and it gave John chills.
Rose exhaled briefly before drawing in more air, like some sort of practiced breathing exercise. In, out. In, out.
The longer it went on, the stranger the atmosphere around them felt. Like they were caught in a lightning storm. The hair on the back of John's neck stood on end, and moving his hand only served to shock himself with static.
John wanted to look away, to check on Dave or Jade but he didn't dare take his eyes off of Rose.
When the blonde witch looked up from the book, her irises blazed a brilliant violet, like cold fire.
"R I S E."
Lightning shot from the ground up to the sky in a powerful and twisted role reversal. Magic, colored the same purple is Rose's eyes with sparks of yellow embedded inside jumped from the center of the diamond, scattering before it reformed into one solid pillar. John jumped back as it arched from the center of the grave in a crooked, zig zagging path up to the sky where it dissipated just as quickly as it appeared.
The graveyard went eerily quiet.
Goose bumps broke out all over John's skin. He realized he was breathing hard. Dave was wide eyed across from him, his glasses skewed crooked on his face. Behind them, Jade woofed in warning.
The grave was no worse for wear. The grass was a bit ruffled, and burn in a small spot, but nothing seemed to be happening. No zombified hand reaching out from the grass from a lifeless corpse. No moaning ghost from the great beyond. Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.
"Did it work?" Dave asked finally.
"I don't know," Rose swallowed thickly, "give it a second."
Moments ticked by like the ever ticking second hand on a clock. The sun had long gone down, and John was cold. The damp earth soaked into his jeans, chilling him further. He wanted to go home. His stomach rolled. John wondered if his dad was back with dinner.
"How many seconds are we gonna give it?" Dave asked again. Rose frowned and looked down at the book.
"Maybe she's been dead too long," she mumbled.
"Maybe if you paid closer attention to grave markers, you wouldn't be having this problem."
John's head snapped to the right.
Standing down the hill was a stranger. A girl, younger than him by a few years at least. Her red hair was short, and gathered around her shoulders, drawing attention to her eyes. John couldn't tell what color they were, but he could see they were glassy and clouded. Like one of Dave's dead animals he'd had in the freezer too long.
She wore a simple black dress with no frills and plain sleeves. She stood with bare feet on the cold ground. Her toes flexed into the leaves and the mud.
Where had she come from? Wasn't this whole yard fenced in?
Jade was on her feet in seconds, teeth bared and snarling. Her lips curled and her muzzle wrinkled, peeling back to reveal a set of sharp, yellowed fangs.
Rose stood up, chin raised arrogantly. John decided to let her do the talking. She was the witch, after all.
"Who are you?"
"Ha!" The stranger scoffed, "I should be asking you. You called me here!"
"You're- you're Terezi Pyrope?" John couldn't see Rose's face, but he would have bet she was just as suppressed as he was.
"I am," Terezi agreed. She didn't look anything like John figured she would have. She was completely solid, not see through like in the movies.
"But, you," Rose sputtered, "where did you come from? I put this summoning circle at the base of your grave!"
"You put a summoning circle at the base of a chip off my tombstone. I'm over there," Terezi jutted her thumb behind her, "right next to the old man. You're lucky your spell didn't depend on location."
Rose didn't respond.
"What is it you want?" Terezi asked, shifting her weight impatiently from one foot to another.
Jade paced impatiently inside her salt circle, looking a little like a goldfish too big for its bowl. She barked insistently, whining between each vocalization. She didn't act very human at the moment, more animal than girl.
"Jade, it's alright," Rose hushed her, a hand moving out to make a 'calm down' motion. The wolf girl yipped, and sat down, whining with her tongue lolling out. She looked stressed.
"Would you like to come sit with us?" Rose offered. Terezi seemed to consider it a moment before she accepted.
"Well, miss haughty high horse, I wouldn't mind."
The ghost girl took a few steps forward before she tripped, face planting into the leaf covered ground. She sat up looking no worse for wear but she did look frustrated. Dave was on his feet in seconds, leaving the protection of the salt circle to tread down the hill to help her. Jade barked as he leant down and helped her stand.
"Jade," Rose said in warning. The werewolf was quiet once again.
"Hold on, I'm up," Terezi assured Dave, who still had ahold of her elbow.
"I don't want you to fall again," he grinned.
She stared at him with empty eyes. She couldn't see him, so what was she bothering to look for? An expression of realization crossed her features. "Wait a second, you're a-"
"Make a whelp joke and I'll steer you right back to your grave," Dave cut her off before she could finish.
Terezi's lips curled upwards as she laughed. "I like you."
Dave smirked and lead her up the hill, his hand on her elbow. He kept her steady, and steered her to the circle. Terezi sort of just flopped herself down once they stopped. She sat with her legs together on one side, leaning on her left arm like a kickstand. Dave resituated himself in his spot, putting Terezi between himself and Rose. Neither sibling relaxed.
"So, what can the dead girl do for you?" Terezi smoothed out the skirt of her dress, pulling it over her ankles.
"Well, we were hoping you could help us with a problem," John began carefully. "A problem with Vriska."
Surprise crossed her features. "Vriska? Oh. So what kind of trouble is tall, dark and mouthy up to now?"
"Well so, she split my soul. And she's been antagonizing me for the rest of it ever since. I just want to get back what I lost and get rid of her. We were hoping you could help," John expressed. His eyebrows knitted together in concern.
"I bet she did split your soul. She's a friendship demon, it's kind of what they do when they're alone," Terezi shrugged. "That's just the natural progression of her kind, they end up killing you and wreak havoc once you're gone."
"Why did you create her then? If you knew she was like that," Rose inquired. Terezi made a face.
"Do you know how hard it is to find good grimoires in Braille? But if I had known, I still would have made her. Vriska was a good friend to me while it lasted."
"And then she killed you," Dave deadpanned.
"I couldn't have killed her, anyway!" Terezi fired didn't sound angry. Maybe snarky? Or sarcastic? She was frustrating him. Did she take nothing seriously? Not even death?
"Okay, okay," John tried to soothe the situation, "we're off topic. I need to trade for my soul back, do you know what she wants to trade for?"
Terezi's head tilted back and she cackled, a sharp laugh from down in her chest. "She's too stubborn to trade! She'll keep whatever she's got for good, even when it's not worth anything! Forget about trading. You've got two options."
"You could kill her," Terezi continued, "but even then you'd just shut her up, not get back what you lost. Or you could play a game with her."
"I'm already playing a game with her! I want it to stop!" John rejected loudly. Terezi looked unperturbed.
"Vriska absolutely loves games of chances. She loves testing her luck. Make a deal with her to play a game, if you win, you get your soul back. That's the only way I know."
"She sounds kinda like a one way bitch," Dave snickered.
"Dave!" Rose scolded.
Terezi shook her head, grinning. "He's okay. You're pretty suave. Know how to treat a lady and talk like a sailor. Where were you two hundred years ago?"
"I'm sure I wasn't even a glimmer in my fifth great grandpa's eye. And who even says suave? We pretty much just say cool now," Dave's shoulders shook with laughter. Terezi couldn't see him but she looked his way and smiled like she could.
"Yeah, whatever you say 'Cool Kid'," Terezi jested back in a mocking tone.
"Thank you, Terezi, for the information," Rose sounded tired as she spoke, sighing and using her sleeve to wipe at the smudged makeup under her eyes.
"Yeah, thank you," John added.
The conversation lulled for a moment before Dave picked it up again.
"Do you have to dismiss her now, Rose?" Dave glanced back at the horizon where the sun had fully vanished. The moon hung overhead, waxing crescent shaped among the stars.
"I do. It's time for us to go," Rose agreed.
"Would you guys come see me again some time?" Terezi frowned, folding an arm over her lap to rub her opposite elbow. It must be lonely here, John decided. She didn't want them to leave.
"I will," Dave piped up. "And I'll try to bring these three nerds along if I can."
Terezi didn't reply, but she returned to smiling, genuine and wide.
Rose leaned down and blew out her candle, and Terezi faded from sight like smoke faded from an extinguished flame. She passed quickly, becoming opaque before she disappeared completely. The wind blew, extinguishing the other three candles. Off in the distance, thunder rolled.
I remember 2 things about high school
1. school lunch was gross
2. The girl I sat with at lunch thought it was gross I ate cheese and salsa on my nachos and yelled at her boyfriend because his facial hair had grown back by noon despite shaving at 7 am.
Also, if you didn't catch it, this is set in Michigan, USA. It probably won't ever come up again.
Okay so I made a gigantic mistake. In 'enemy of my enemy' I established Vriska was "two thousand years old, and relatively new" -except this is a typo.- Vriska was meant to be two hundred years old. She was born around the turn of the turn of the century (like 1799-1800) in Pheasant River, where the kids live