[July 1907, New Orleans]

After the trolley incident, the cat ran from him. Alastor couldn't understand why and certainly had no reason to connect the two things. Disappointing as it was, he comforted himself by- as he could previously only imagine for humor- cutting the local tragedy piece out of the paper and affixing it to his wall with a tack. Ah, yes, he thought, admiring his handiwork. This was the dream.

Al was rather concerned that he should feel more remorseful, but truly, the only thing he had felt disturbed by in the past few days was being snubbed by the cat. Maybe what he'd considered about Billy being destined to hurt people was an exaggeration? Had he overreacted? He tried to entertain the possibility, but no matter what, he continued to experience a steadfast, serene feeling of correctness. Things were as they should be. But why? Was he just in a rosy cloud because he was lucky enough to have the rare experience of living out a violent personal fantasy, knowing there was no way for him to be implicated? Would it wear off?

It did not, but at least the black cat returned, hesitantly at first, but seeming to realize quickly that the child's intentions toward it remained just as benevolent as ever. And Al seemed to have dissuaded the mysterious...fairy...demon...spirit...thing. At the very least, it hadn't pursued him.

But after a few days, he noticed the smell near his backyard's cellar entrance. It was the distinctive scent of jambalaya cooking. He must have gone a little slack-jawed because the cat mewled at him in a reprimanding tone. Al 'umphed' resentfully and willed himself to make another sandwich, but it was a really tough sell with the other scent wafting up the steps as an alternative. The cat tugged at his pants leg. "I know, I know. This is how people die."

"Mao."

"I know it's a trivial thing to die for, but can you smell that?" The cat resumed its previous snubbing. Clearly disgusted with the child's life choices, it hoisted its tail straight up in the air and turned its back on him melodramatically before striding away. "Fine, I'm not sharing any of the shrimp then!"

In the basement, he confirmed that he was not imagining it. The smell was coming from the supply closet. He wondered if his father wasn't able to smell it, or if he didn't notice because he'd fallen asleep again.

Alastor took a deep breath. Why was he willingly engaging with this thing? He wasn't so easily tempted by food. And he wasn't ready to believe his mother had actually endorsed this strange character by leaving the key- there could be all sorts of misunderstandings at play there. He wanted something else. It was too threatening to his desire for control, though, to admit what that was, even though it was perfectly understandable that a 7.5 year old would want just a shred of attention from a nearby adult. He buried the mental admission as quickly as it appeared and told himself he wanted an adventure. Then he opened the door, and inside was the same hallway of reasonable length- perhaps even a little bit shorter- with the twinkling stars that he had seen as he departed last time. The smell was even stronger and more enticing now. He made up his mind to enter.

Up the basement steps and down the hall from the landing, in the living room area with the piano, he could hear the humming. When he entered the dining room, she called from the kitchen, "See, I promised I'd make some for you!"

Alastor reminded himself to smile. Even though the food smelled incredible, it was coming to him less automatically than usual because he was very uncertain that he was making the right decision here. "Thank you! It smells wonderful, Miss Terri."

Miss Terri? Cutest of the cute. Such a polite child. "Almost done, sweetheart." She turned and saw his face, which looked deeply uncertain and less upbeat than usual. "Why are you looking so down, little star?" He noticed the spoon kept stirring the pot behind her.

"My cat seems upset with me," he answered vaguely, not wishing to further explain that the cat was his only friend.

"Awww." She bent down to his level and patted his head, and Alastor backed up. "Ah, I know, I know, no touching," Terri acknowledged, all while snidely ruffling his hair with her undetectably thin, thread-like feelers. (These were, in her opinion, one of the best things she had ever incorporated into her corporeal form, based on the feelers of the whip spider. Delightfully convenient for passive-aggressive tomfoolery and for whenever a spark of clinginess struck her.) "My point is, right now, you're in the pit of self-indulgent sadness, which I know very well is a place you don't like to be, so why are you still there?"

Al feigned confusion. "I don't know what you mean."

Terri snorted and said, "Please. I know you can't help it, but you make the same dour expression as your father," earning a mild embarrassed blush from Alastor. "You do know you can make it go away. You're practiced at this. I've watched you! I think you just haven't been encouraged enough. That father of yours, he's a downer. Bad for morale. Pitiful. He tells you to smile, and then he makes you worried all the time about the consequences of not smiling...and illustrates them. I won't do that. I'm an expert." Insert laugh track here.

"Is that so?" The corner of a bemused smirk returned to Alastor's face.

"Oh, yes, dear. I've lived alone in a void for a length of time your brain can't comprehend. Do you know what would happen to me if I allowed myself to ruminate about all the things that bothered me?" She laughed dismissively. "Your brain wants you to be sad when things are not ideal so you pursue what you need. But if you're in a situation that's actually hopeless, that's not adaptive in terms of keeping yourself sane, is it?"

"Actually hopeless?" Alastor parroted, grimacing.

"When things are really dire and there's NO. WAY. OUT. The only way to survive is to…" She paused and breathed deeply as though meditating. "...compartmentalize all of the pieces of your mind, and then find the part with the badness and-" She snapped to attention quickly as an insect scurried by and crushed it mercilessly with a swift blow, a sadistic grin flickering across her face briefly before she calmly hack hemmed and wiped the bug guts away.

As Terri had suggested, Alastor was indeed familiar with the concept already. That wasn't what had caused his eyes to widen behind his owlish glasses. It was the way Miss Terri casually turned subtext into text without an ounce of hesitation. It would take some getting used to. She had said last time that she was not this open with everyone, that she 'sugar-coated' more with other children. He wondered if it would be better or worse for him in the long run to be talking straight with the real Miss Terri.

"Well, since you're back," she continued, with a little hop and a clap of excitement, "what if I taught you another fun trick to help, huh?"

"Depends on what the trick is?"

"Oh, come now, Button, I think you'll find my tricks very handy. After all, you enjoyed the first one... didn't you?"

Alastor silently absorbed this. There were no hints of wariness in her voice. It sounded much too gleeful. It appeared Terri had been all too pleased with his use of her trick. Dammit. In retrospect, that made sense. Why would he have thought he could scare her? In his defense, he assumed, when she talked about hunting with or for her children, that she had been the one doing all of the killing, and that seeing one of the children engage would shock her. Perhaps they had always been expected to assist?

By this point, one of the puppet servants had appeared to remove the pot from the range and start preparing bowls. As it did so, Terri changed the topic by guiding him to the living room and pointing to a countertop near her piano, upon which sat a 20-30's style radio. "Look!"

"What is that?"

"It's the same thing your father built. A radio. They way they'll look soon, when they're mass produced." Alastor looked skeptical but very interested. "It'll change everything. The speed of news reports will be incredible. People who would rarely be able to otherwise will get to enjoy music and sports and theater."

"How do you have one already? Can you time travel?"

"Haha. No. But I can access data from the future and try to replicate it with what I have on hand."

"So you...got the plans and you built it yourself?" The child seemed impressed, to Terri's delight.

"I'm surprisingly handy with mechanical things." Plus, she had to fill her time with something. She and that grating Bert character had some things in common, as much as she disliked the thought of it. "Anyway, today we're going to use this to illustrate my trick."

As Terri moved to put a hand on his shoulder, Alastor cringed again. "Just for a minute, dear. To give you a gift." She stood behind him, placed her left hand on his left shoulder, and closed her right hand around his own right hand. "See?" she whispered, squeezing it gently. "I won't hurt you." She assumed the reason for his touch aversion was that he had not experienced a lot of gentle touch in his life, and she was pretty on-target. Not only that, but just about the only time he received any touch at all in daily life was through an occasional, passing handshake. He tried to un-tense his shoulder muscles as she left her hand there.

A soft lime green light glowed around their right hands. "Now, I'm going to need you to go ahead and get angry," Terri told him.

Alastor squinted. "Isn't that against the point?"

"It's fine, you'll get rid of it fast. Think of the things that make you angry. Or sad. Then notice how much energy it's taking your body to react to it, to reinforce the feelings. It wants you to notice so you'll be motivated to fix it, but you can't, can you? It's not in your control, and now your stupid body is punishing you like you're the one to blame for not solving it."

Although he had never considered it, Alastor understood what she meant, and it was all the more enraging now that she had framed it that way. The increase in blood pressure and heart rate, perceived spike in body heat, muscle tension, tooth grinding, throat tightening- all it did was wear his own body down while accomplishing nothing. It certainly didn't punish the sources of the feelings; sometimes it even provoked them. It had only brought Billy glee while he was alive, and would only earn further aggression from Bert.

"Energy can't be created or destroyed, but it can be redirected just fine. Now, take all of that energy and throw it away. Throw it at that," she instructed, pointing at the radio.

He would have normally asked, 'How?' But whatever she had given him, his body had already learned to use it. It made all the intuitive sense in the world, like any of the bodily functions he was already used to. The system began to pop and crackle, growing progressively louder until a shrill whine burst from the speaker and then- BAM! The speaker was blown out, the system aflame.

Maybe he could startle Miss Terri after all- she squeezed his shoulder behind him and 'oof'ed quietly. Echo, considerably less surprised, was already on hand with the fire extinguisher, spraying the flaming radio with the deadpan expression of someone who did this regularly.

"I admit, I was not expecting that much," said Terri. "You're certainly keeping a lot under wraps."

"Sorry about the radio…"

"Don't worry, dear, I can replace it. How do you feel now?"

Besides feeling bad about her radio, Alastor realized he felt much...lighter. Like he had been walking under a lot of weight before and now it was lifted. This must be how it felt to not expend so much energy on feeling, or quashing, emotion. "Much better, thanks." He realized suddenly that she was still holding his hand and he had not even noticed- it had seemed almost normal. He didn't have to pull away, though, as she stopped on her own shortly after.

"You can use this on just about anything. It's only a transfer of energy. But, uh, not the range, please," she begged. "I just fixed it."

'You mean I just fixed it,' thought Echo across the room, maintaining its unmoving facial expression like one of the guards of Buckingham Palace. 'After you blew it up, you moody, explosive asshole.'

"How does all this work?"

"It's magic!" Terri presented her best jazz hands.

"I'm not sure if I believe in magic."

"Well, magic is only science that hasn't been discovered yet, dear. Don't worry your sweet little head about the logistics. Just take what's useful and run." She decided there was something else behind his dissatisfied look. "What's the matter?"

"It all comes from you..." How much fun could he have knowing none of it was his own? It was embarrassing more than anything.

Huh. She hadn't thought of it that way, but she didn't want to offend him. "Awww. Tell you what. You know those voodoo books from your mother in the attic? I'll show you which of that is poppycock and which of it is real. Then you'll have something you learned yourself. Sound good?"

"It's real?" Wait, why was he surprised? She had just taught him to blow the speaker out of a radio that wouldn't be manufactured for a decade with his mind.

"Some of it certainly is. Now sit down, Button. Let's have some dinner."

To his chagrin, the food had the same effect on him the second time as it had the first time. If the scent was spellbinding, the taste deteriorated his rational brain entirely. It made him want to stay.

"Show's on tonight!" she declared once they were finished. "It's something I think you'll love!" She led him to her theater. It was in different locations, depending on the layout of the environment, but she always had one. This time, it replaced Billy's family's house next door.

Despite the fact that the actor wouldn't become a breakout star for years, she had put together a Charlie Chaplin-esque silent comedy production of 'The Story of a Boy Who Went Forth to Learn Fear.' It was one of the lesser-known Grimm's fairy tales- a story about a somewhat daft psychopath who sincerely desired to know what fear was and kept putting himself in situations other people would find deeply disturbing, only to destroy a series of frightening entities in increasingly more ridiculous ways and leave each time scratching his head, wondering why that hadn't seemed so bad. It ended on exactly the kind of terrible wordplay the child seemed to enjoy; the psychopath's girlfriend dumped cold water on him in outrage and he joked, "Well, now I know how to shudder, but I still don't know what fear is." Seems Terri had hit the nail on the head- this was indeed exactly Alastor's aesthetic. The little boy was in tears of laughter by the end.

Before the show, Alastor had found himself wondering who the players would be. Most or all of the puppet servants, from what he could tell, were mute and seemed strangely robotic. They did indeed turn out to be puppet actors, but the answer became clear- it was a literal puppet show. The actors very likely were mindless sock puppets- she simply played all of them, all while sitting in the chair next to him, giggling and clapping at her own performance. This feat managed to be both worthy of admiration and cartoonishly vain at the same time. He wanted to be disgusted, but there was something strangely cute about it. In a lot of ways, interacting with Terri was like interacting with another child.

As they began to return to their own side of the house, they heard a hiss. As he turned, Alastor heard Terri jeeringly hiss back at the stray black cat. His cat. How was his cat here? Alastor was puzzled, but at this point, such an absurd display also seemed strangely on-brand. "Um. Why is there conflict?"

"Is this your cat?"

"He's not not my cat?"

"Of course." Terri turned to the cat and accused, "Slandering me some more?"

"The cat?" Alastor said. Hmmn, yes, definitely spellcasting and crazy.

"Pluto," Terri introduced it icily.

"You named it?" Why would she name something she hated?

"No, the little creep named himself," Terri explained. "Well, look at that, I guess he's not angry at you after all. Figures. It's usually me he has the problem with." Pluto narrowed his large yellow eyes at her. "I suggest you keep him out of here. I've been wanting a nice new fur hat for winter. Don't tempt me." The cat pointedly showed her its asshole and scampered away. Alastor followed close behind it. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"You asked me to get the cat for you!" Alastor called back.

"Not really. I'll do it!"

"You think I trust you to do it?"

"Well, I haven't killed him yet, have I?"

Alastor marveled at the fact that the cat seemed to have dived into a bush and reappeared inside the kitchen window on the sill. He swung the door open and chased it.

"Ahhhhhhh, crap," Terri muttered to herself, knowing exactly where Pluto was likely headed. Eh, so be it. Maybe skipping right to the good part for once would be fun.

[X]

"What are you up to?" the little boy called after the animal. If the comedy show had put him in a good mood, this improved it still more. He was glad the cat was interacting with him again, and he rarely got it to play like this. Pluto was not playing, but he gladly used the child's delight to lure him to the desired location.

At the mirrored door, Pluto stopped and meowed emphatically. The boy cocked his head. Pluto was irate. Why could this child not understand him in the Other World? If Alastor were actively refusing to believe that Terri was real and that this was all a hallucination, for example, then Pluto might understand. But the child seemed willing to accept Terri's existence, and that she could practice magic. That he was willing to accept other fantastical things but reject Pluto's ability to speak suggested that part of the boy simply wasn't interested in hearing what Pluto had to say. Well, the cat would keep trying for the time being. There was a lot at stake. "You're not going to scare her away with one murder. See for yourself!" He pawed at the door.

"Huh." The cat seemed very determined to get in there. Alastor didn't want to violate anyone's privacy, but he had to admit, Terri was a suspicious character. Maybe he would give Pluto the benefit of the doubt here. He opened the door.

Despite having a flare for the dramatic, deep, deep down, Alastor was a pragmatist, which was reflected in what he saw behind this door. He did not find a group of huddled spirits in here as one of his successors would, and so did not receive a long grandiloquent lecture on the strange imposter's intentions. He didn't need one. He saw only bones- piles of bones of all sizes, but an inordinately large number of small, fragile ones- which told him everything he needed to know.

"Real enough for you?" came a voice from behind. Al swiveled around so quickly he tripped and fell on his ass, earning a chuckle from the woman. "You do seem to tend toward hyper-realism. Not to worry, I'll break you of that. So much more fun to be had!"

Alastor reflexively released some nervous laughter, the only way he knew how to ward off panic or despair. He thought attempting to flee immediately would be risky, so he stayed very still, as though trying to confuse a predator that could only sense motion.

"...Hmmn. Well, you can be shockingly quiet as long as you're afraid you're going to screw up if you talk," Terri remarked. She inhaled deeply and could tell that the child was terrified of something...but it wasn't her. She could also feel sadness. Fear and intimidation were just fine, and respect was great- all acceptable food. But sadness was not- no nutritional value whatsoever. And right now, even more than panic- which still was not directed at her specifically and so helped her not at all- the child was exuding deep despair, which circled back around into more fear. Not of her. Of the despair. But if the cycle wasn't initiated by fear of her, what caused it?

"You're...a...a…" Al uttered. Dragon? "Uhhhh...certainly prolific, ma'am."

She squinted at him. "Where are you pulling these words from?"

Alastor shrugged. "My father taught me to read with the Grimm's tales, and then he just handed me a dictionary." This wasn't a joke, it just happened to be funny. The funniest bit was he had actually read the dictionary- he was often very bored at home.

Terri withheld her laughter. "...Well...anyway...thank you for noticing. Glad you're impressed."

Al just called it what it was: "It's a lot of bones."

'Just bones, huh?' Terri thought. She had wondered exactly what he saw. Probably his 7-going-on-8 year old boy brain was manufacturing an image of what a dragon's lair might look like. The reality for her involved a lot more artistry, but she was also glad to keep it as a private space that no one else could see. "I'm a very skilled hunter."

"Why are so many of them so small?" Al asked sternly.

After a long pause, using what little information she had, Terri went for humor. "Leprechauns," she said with a straight face.

"...Excuse me?"

"They were leprechauns. Bad leprechauns."

The boy's thinly-veiled snicker cut through the silence. The joke itself was stupid. What was so funny was how flagrantly she was bullshitting, and how she knew that he knew how flagrantly he was bullshitting.

"I'm sorry to admit I have a checkered history with the leprechaun mafia. I was not the most loyal associate. They came for me. But I was ready."

Al's poker face was failing.

"Fairies are no joke, kid. They can be pretty insidious. Can't take anything they give you. ...Ugh, I've been so distracted I haven't offered you anything. Would you like something to drink?"

Alastor finally burst out laughing, despite himself.

Having 'rescued' him from the threatening negative emotions with her humor, Terri inhaled the delightful scent of his appreciation. Much better. "Well, well… Aren't you...different." Al grinned a crooked, endearing grin and Terri cocked her head, looking bemused. She knew that he knew, and he knew that she knew that he knew, exactly where the bones came from. "You have an interesting sense of humor, boy. I like you. I'd like you to keep coming back."

Referring to her fairy joke, he replied, "I'll be bringing a bagged lunch."

She giggled her real, quirky giggle, not the fake perfect one. "Fair."

"No, really. Why would I do that?" He was serious, but Alastor continued smiling up at her.

"You wouldn't be afraid of me, would you?" she asked with mock offense. He didn't reply. She bent down to his level and put on her war face. Alastor's own war face was just a wider, stiffer smile. Terri secretly found it just as off-putting and strangely intimidating as he hoped it would be, but she pretended otherwise. "How are you doing that?" She gently pushed his nose, and he tilted back and forward again like a seesaw, face unmoving. Terri crossed her arms and bluntly declared, "Phht! That doesn't mean you're not scared. I can tell your father's a real creep, or else you'd never have learned that." Alastor's smile almost cracked, but not quite.

Terri hummed. "Well. I see your concerns, but here's my question. If I were dangerous to you, why have I been endorsed?"

"Endorsed?"

"Why did your mother leave you that key? Seems she thought I'd protect you from something."

"Why would she send me to something that hunts children?"

Terri sighed and finally started talking straight again. "Boy, I saw what you did to the neighbor. So don't tell me you don't already know that all children aren't perfect angels and some of those little vermin deserve to die." He had not been prepared for that level of honesty and his eyes showed it. "Well? Make your case! You can't, can you?" she said.

Dear god, Alastor realized. Killing Billy had been the wrong move entirely; it had piqued her interest.

"In fact, I have a very good idea why she may have sent you to me," Terri continued.

"Oh?" Al said challengingly.

"She wanted you to be taken care of. Not necessarily just watched over while you're small, but supported in the long run. She couldn't give you an inheritance, but she knew I could."

"So you knew each other?" Al asked, rightfully suspicious.

"We knew of each other."

"If you only knew of each other, what reason would she have to believe any of this?"

"She did her research. She figured out what I was. What do you think caused the sudden fascination with old folklore?"

"You're arguing she knew you'd act as my godmother? I still don't see why."

Terri let the conversation lapse only slightly longer than usual before finding the perfect answer, embedded with a kernel of truth. "It's because I was disinherited, too." Al raised an eyebrow. "You didn't ask to be brought into this world, where you're discriminated against for arbitrary reasons. And now, after you've had all of your birthrights taken from you, you're left to fend for yourself. Because him," she huffed, referring to Bert. "He's not even good for morale. Useless."

Alastor briefly considered defending his father but couldn't deny that he had often thought the same thing. Honestly, he was irritated mostly because he didn't want her fake sympathy.

"But yes, I was disinherited, too. I was so, so much more powerful than I am today. So powerful that I ripped all of my doorways into the fabric of the universe myself. I was a queen once. But my family disowned me. They thought I was insane."

'No comment,' Alastor thought.

"I shared my power with them and they cannibalized me, as spiderlings often do, and left me for dead. And now? My doors that I myself ripped open can be locked by a mortal. Not that it's enough to keep me in." Yet. She tried not to think about it very often, but Terri had already acknowledged the possibility that one day she may become weakened to the point that she could be locked in. "And I can do parlor tricks."

Terri had a number of profoundly impressive abilities that most supernatural entities, even ones more powerful than herself, did not boast, including the ability to trap souls, the ability to consume anything, the power to pull data from within a roughly 100 year timeframe, and the power to reverse time by up to a few minutes. But because of how meager the extent of these powers had become, compared to what they once were, she saw herself as having been reduced to a peasant. Her lack of success was partly her own doing, though. If she had applied the power she had left in a goal-directed way, she could probably have accomplished a lot. Instead she misanthropically hid in her nest and pulled future data to read and see Broadway musicals, horror movies, and Tiger King.

Already worn down by her grandiose nonsense, Al started to march away.

"I'm telling you the truth, you know!" she called after him and followed behind, closing the mirrored door behind her. "That's how she knew that I would have sympathy for you!"

"How did she know this if you didn't speak in person?" Al asked insistently as he moved with purpose to get closer to the basement steps, just in case he needed to bolt.

"The Ouija."

"If she had your key, why didn't she come meet you?"

"Your mother didn't want to go into that hallway." Seeing his affronted expression, she added, "Oh, dear, I don't mean to suggest she wasn't brave. I think she worried she may have been tempted to stay and not come back. And the point wasn't her safety, it was yours. She wanted to make sure nothing could cloud her mind and take her away from y-"

The child unexpectedly began to laugh again and remarked, "Well! That worked out well, didn't it!" The intriguing bit, to Terri, was that it wasn't bitter-sounding laughter. It was genuine. The child was already complex enough to understand that something could be both funny and sad at the same time. "Do you know what happened to her?"

Terri feigned naivete. "I know she passed away, but I didn't know how. Was she ill?"

"She put her head in the oven," Al told her bluntly.

Terri began to chuckle herself. "Well. Now I get the joke." Although she had already known this information, the reason for the child's pattern of behavior finally clicked into place for her now. Of course he would fear sadness or potential insanity. "But in all fairness to her, could she have predicted that, if she became ill suddenly?"

Alastor suddenly felt terrible, even though he truly meant his mother no disrespect. "I guess not…But…" He thought back to Terri's rationale. "I don't understand why she and I…couldn't have just come over here together?"

The ensuing pause was more abrupt and harsh than previous pauses, but before the child could think too much about it, Terri snapped herself out of her stupor. "Someone had to stay with your father. She was very concerned for him. I think she truly loved him."

Alastor looked surprised.

"Your mother was very loyal. I respected her for it a great deal. As you might imagine, because of my history, I think loyalty is a very important virtue. So I suggested exactly what you just described, but I didn't argue with her when she declined. Although I wish she had come… Your father… Is it fair to say he likely doesn't understand how he hurts people?" Al nodded. "I thought as much. Now… Aren't you interested in hearing what I can offer?"

"Fine. What am I trading?"

Terri smiled. He was already so bright. A little star. "If you stay, you'll have a family," she said, smiling sweetly.

Al raised a cynical eyebrow but chose not to investigate the word 'stay' just yet.

"But that means you'll also have an inheritance. Nice bonus."

"What could you leave me?" What assets could she possibly have that would be useful to humans? "It wouldn't be a business. Or money."

"Sooo much better than that. Power!" Between them, a nebulous, indescribable rip appeared, and as it widened, an image was revealed. An adult version of himself in a dead landscape, fighting a one-against-five battle with monsters and winning, with the assistance of formidable shadow weapons. Or, rather, appendages? They seemed to take the form of claws or tentacles. The rip closed, and Terri continued. "The catch is that it will be largely unusable until you make it to the afterlife."

That was a pretty big qualifier. "So why is it worthwhile?"

"This is about long term security, sport. You and I both know where your little goblin brain is going to end up." She was referring to that barren landscape. The insinuation was clearly Hell. Honestly, Alastor couldn't even be reasonably offended. He had just killed his neighbor in cold blood. Even if the shithead probably would have had it coming to him one day, that was definitely against 'the rules.' "So you'll want something to keep you safe. Imagine. No matter how unsatisfying your life on earth, not a soul will bother you forever after. You'll be safe. You'll be respected. And. The hunting. You can hunt forever. I'm basically making it so that you go to Heaven no matter what, sweetheart. No better inheritance than that!"

"But I…" Alastor tried to find the words. "I don't really want power. I just want to be left alone."

Awww. Terri got the feeling this child really did want security more than he wanted power. She was offering him demi-god-like abilities with which to crush his enemies, but he'd be content just to feel safe. It would be heartbreaking, if she had a heart. "There's more of an overlap than you may think. Especially there. But here, too," she reasoned with him. "A deer is not bothering anybody out in the woods. It's not in your yard eating your garden, but you actively go out into the woods and pursue it anyway, for fun. It's what humans do. Any time they notice something with less power, they'll turn hunting it into a sport. The only way to stop that from happening is to accumulate power of your own. You may choose not to even use it, but you absolutely need to show people you could if you wanted to."

Al looked as though didn't care for this interpretation and yet also couldn't disagree with it. "Is there a way to prove it? Because...you can conjure any image you want, I'll bet. And you're telling me only a little will be usable while I'm alive. So how do I know you have that much to give?"

Terri considered for a moment, trying to decide on a good example. "I know!" She snapped her fingers. A dark flash whizzed around the corners of the room, causing Alastor to spin around, disoriented, before it stared up at him from the floor, extending in front of him so that the edges of their feet met and their heads were nearly level. The large-eared creature grinned at him, panting like a dog.

Al knew he should probably be afraid, but he was fascinated and even charmed. "Is it a puppy?"

Terri shrugged. She wasn't sure herself, but she had an opinion. "I think he's a fox. His name is Ferdie." The shadow animal bounded up and twirled around Alastor, initiating a playful chase around the room. Hmmn. Only one other one had charmed the shadow creature that way, and she'd liked him. Terri held onto some hope that the creature was a good judge of character. "He can do a lot more than sit, shake, and fetch, if you ask nicely. I'll give you two some time to try it out." The shadow collapsed back to the ground, where it merged once again with Alastor's own shadow and became dormant.

"Okay…" Alastor tried to reorient himself. "Didn't you say that you are much weaker than you were once? Do you really have enough power to share without harming yourself?"

"Awww." Terri patted his head as his nose wrinkled in displeasure. "Worried for me, sweetheart? Such a gentleman. It's true I'm running a little low. But you can help give me a boost."

"How's that?"

"Hunting. Your father took you once, didn't he? Did you enjoy it? Would you like to go with me?" she asked excitedly, button eyes glinting. A child had never been a hunting partner before. Part of her was thrilled by the notion of a bonding activity she didn't have to pretend was fun. "I know you'd be good at it. You used my siren power very well on that other brat."

"I...ah...would…" Yup, there it was. They were definitely hunting humans.

"Only things you agree on, of course," she clarified, unsure of how truthful this was just yet. "And you'd never be suspected as an accomplice. I can get rid of all the evidence. Those bones are trophies. But I can consume them right away, to make things easier. I can consume anything," she bragged.

Al barely realized how visibly impressed he looked. She was flattered. "What are you? What...what would somebody call you?"

"'Goddess' or 'queen' would suffice," she joked as Al rolled his eyes at her. "But I'd still much prefer you to call me Mother."

Al disregarded that for the time being. "I don't understand what you get." It was nerve-wracking to deal with someone whose motives were so nebulous, and the lack of human eyes didn't help. "What do you want?"

"What anyone wants." She gently grasped his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Love." Al wore a confused, wary expression. "Do you have anyone to love, Button? Do you have anyone who loves you?" Taking it as a personal affront, Alastor swiped her hand away. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. It's not your fault if the answer is no. It's just bad luck, dear. Like mine. I have no one who loves me, and no one to love. Do you think we deserve this?"

Al accused, resentfully, "You know I'm alone. That's why you're doing this."

"Well, yes, that's the point. Neither of us will have to be alone anymore. I'm not quite sure how you're framing this as me doing a bad thing."

"You want...love?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"How could you...guarantee that that...would...work?"

"I can't," Terri admitted. "I know, and I think you know, it's not like the way those stories are written." She smiled a bittersweet smile. "Love is complicated. Love takes time. I would like you to give me a chance."

Alastor put it all together slowly and summarized. "So, you...want me to keep coming back-" An interesting interpretation of the word 'stay,' Terri thought, but she'd take it and see where they ended up. "-and give you a chance...and hunt with you. And in return for that, you'll give me power in the afterlife and…some in life?"

"Correct."

"And you'll protect me?" Alastor added. "Is that right? That's what you claimed last time."

Terri nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. From anything."

Alastor still wasn't totally at ease with the ambiguity of this arrangement. It was not like any fairy tale he had ever read. He thought creatures like Terri were supposed to like clearly-defined deals, but this one seemed to try to slink and slide out of the way of making any detailed deal that wasn't minor or inconsequential. "I don't understand what 'stay' means. Or what happens if I don't learn to...see you as family. Or how much I get while I'm alive."

"Are you really almost 8? Or are you some kind of 30-year-old mental asylum escapee with a pituitary gland disorder pretending to be eight?" She moved on, remembering that he couldn't understand the reference. "Because if you're really that smart at this age, I can't wait to see you grow up! You know, I'm not just trying to flatter you. I do think you're something special, Button. Do you believe me?"

Not a bit. Not yet. He tried to convincingly fake nod.

"That's okay." Her smile was both warm and mischievous at the same time. "I'll convince you."

"I want...the voice. And-" He pointed to where the image of the hellscape had been. "-that conjuring. And the shadow." He named everything she had already proven she had. "While I'm alive… We don't know how long I'll stay-"

'A bold child,' Terri thought.

"How much do I get for each year?"

She burst out laughing. The child looked affronted.

"Oh, darling!" Terri would have been wiping away a tear if she were able to cry with laughter. "I'm not laughing at you, dismissively. You're just...precious!" She couldn't resist the urge to pinch his cheek. Al worse an expression of extreme tolerance. "Pardon me, I can't. You're priceless."

"Okay. Sounds like I get it all up front then."

She laughed again and batted her hand at him. "Stop, stop!" A sigh. "Allll right. You get 10% of the offered amount no matter what after one year; 25% after 5 years; 50% after 10 years. And if you last that long, we'll discuss more later."

"Percentages of what?"

'I may love this child,' Terri thought. 'Give it to me, giveittomegiveittome, GIVEIT.' "The full amount would be about 10-15% of whatever power I had at the time. Which is a very generous inheritance, and also why you should make sure I am fed very well."

"I'll need more demonstrations, then." Al was pretending to be dissatisfied but was actually rather pleased by her responsiveness. Most adults he knew would laugh him off and refuse to engage, yet she responded to every query, even if she sometimes did so in a way that was probably misleading. In a way, he found this quite respectful of Miss Terri. "Well...what happens if I leave?"

This was a key question. Terri considered carefully. She was very confident that she could win this one over- they actually seemed to have things in common. So she didn't want to threaten him... officially. She could certainly try to intimidate him outside the bounds of a formal contract. "You keep what you earned while you were here. You forfeit everything else." Al looked at her skeptically and she asked, "Did you think I would threaten my own little friend?"

"...I'll think it over. Sounds not bad to me, ma'am."

"I could be your Other Mother," Terri reiterated, just a hint too eagerly. "Would you like to call me 'Mother?'"

Knowing she desired affection and hoping she would sweeten the deal even more if he dangled it, Alastor gave her his very best sweet and spicy look. "I'll consider it."

Terri's brain short-circuited for a hot second. "…Sweetie," she chuckled, "I'm not sure you're aware, but 'negging' hasn't been popularized yet."

Al shrugged and smiled pseudo-innocently up at her in a manner that suggested he was naive to the term only and knew the method very well. "I don't know what that means. …But I will," he said, this time referring to the entire arrangement. "I'll consider it. ...Can you put that in writing, please?"

[X]

On his side of the house, Alastor was deep in thought. He had to hand it to her- those were some extremely quick pivots and expertly-constructed lies. They all would have tracked and would certainly have fooled a more typical almost-8-year-old who hadn't been raised in an environment hostile enough to cognitively develop quickly so he could think on his feet. But there were a few monkey wrenches. Terri had just introduced the idea that Alastor's mother had known of her existence for sure, regardless of whether or not they had actually met. And that raised the question of- what were the crucifixes for? Another question- why had his mother, who had developed a wealth of knowledge of voodoo prior to her death, shut that doll in that trunk? Why had she locked it? To keep it in? It was starting to sound suspiciously like Terri had made the doll herself. If so, what for? He had heard of scrying and wondered if the button eyes on the doll could serve this purpose. A little spy. But that couldn't entirely explain the breadth of knowledge she had regarding his life. The doll simply hadn't had the opportunity to see that much. He would still be cautious with what it could watch, going forward.

As for the prize she offered, it would be excellent if he could be sure it were valid, but in the end it was irrelevant. Maybe she was lying about being able to give him demigod-like abilities with which he could crush his enemies and keep himself safe in Hell, if such a place even existed. Who cared? He knew for a fact that she could conjure images (misleading or otherwise), manipulate people with her siren-like voice, and provide him with a sneaky, undetectable shadow pet. She had alluded to other unproven abilities, but he would be satisfied with the former three alone if he could find a way to barter or bribe them out of her.

He had an idea. It would require him to return at least two more times, which was not ideal, but it seemed worth the risk. Terri was correct about Alastor in one way. He wasn't fixated on power, per se, but he was willing to jump through hoops for security. And he was willing to be ruthless. If things went his way, she was probably about to find that quality a lot less charming. Alastor left the poppet in his own closet and set off to work in the attic. His mother's old doll-making equipment was about to get some use after all.

[X]

The next time he visited, Alastor offered to help her clean, claiming to be bothered by the puppet slaves. Miss Terri's nonverbals suggested that she thought such a characterization was unfair. They had the minds of insects, she explained. That was what was powering most of the puppets- the 'souls,' per se, of insects, which were easy for her to control remotely due to their simplicity. She had not enslaved complex entities (that he knew of). Still, he offered, and while doing so, he just barely managed to gather enough of what appeared to be her hair. Was it really hers, though? Or was she something else that was just inhabiting another puppet? It was difficult to tell. In any case, this was the best he could do. Worth a try.

By the next time, she started to ask about what he had decided regarding the terms of their deal. "Sometimes you talk yourself out of a good thing by waiting too long," she noted, as they sat in the garden. (He had brought some things for a picnic to create an excuse to bring a knapsack in which to hide his secret weapon.) "In any case, the longer the wait, the longer you're without protection." She seemed to subtly imply that this included protection from herself.

Backing away a reasonable distance, Al revealed from the bag the Terri voodoo doll and a matchbox. "All I want is the voice. Give me that, and I'll go peacefully."

There was dead silence for a few seconds, followed by absolutely uproarious laughter from Terri as she moved toward him. As Al struck a match, she effortlessly fiddled with the oxygen content in the air around the doll. The flame extinguished just after it set, and she confiscated the doll from his hands. "You understand even if you had lit this thing on fire, it would feel like I had a papercut, right? You're lucky this is so adorable it's distracting me from being offended. You must think I'm very weak."

The usual smile was wiped clean off Alastor's face by alarm and was being replaced by growing humiliation. Despite his unusual intellect, his young age was finally showing. Why had he thought this would work?! What was worse- she behaved as if she had seen this coming.

Inferring what he was thinking, Terri explained, "The other one. It can scry, but it's also a voodoo doll, bright eyes. As long as it can see, it can see what you see."

At first, Terri's love of schadenfreude made his expression even funnier, but then something strange happened. She felt a flash of empathy, connecting with the crushing feeling of helplessness in his eyes. "Ah…" She noticed for the first time that he seemed to be...looking up for some reason? Oh. Oh, yes. The 'no tears' trick. She knew that one. The same one who had previously befriended the shadow- he taught her that. "Oh, darling, wait. Pardon my laughter. It was the situation that was funny. I wasn't laughing at you."

"You think I'm an idiot," the little boy accused.

"No, I think you're green, that's all." He was a tricky child, but he was still a child, and easy to read with just a bit of effort. Terri leaned down to his level and said, "But you're an ambitious little one, aren't you?" He said nothing. "Well, look, we've suitably offended each other, so now we're even. Let's stop arguing and be friends again."

Confusion overtook Alastor's other emotions. "But I just threatened you."

"I've made you feel threatened many times, and you just laughed it off, too. This seems to be our dynamic. ...Do you want to know a secret?" She didn't wait. "I like you because you're trying to manipulate me. I love this game we're playing. I find you very interesting. And I would even like to share with you. But…I know that you'll leave. And that won't do. Now that you see I know you, and I like you for you, you don't want to hurt me... do you, Button?"

"You probably want to hurt me."

"I do not. Come, let's be partners. It is fun to play against you, but I think you and I could have a lot more fun playing on the same team."

Referring to her earlier claims, Al asked, "You'd actually protect me? From anything?"

"You really want to make sure I can't hurt you, eh? Good boy. See, I think you're clever."

"From ANYTHING?" He clearly wanted a serious demonstration of allegiance. She could understand that. She frequently demanded such displays herself.

Dramatically, with a hand held over her heart, Terri pretended this decree actually meant something. "Little one, for you, I would fight God himself."

Pluto yowled from a bush, understood by Terri alone. "McGyver, you'd fight God in a back alley with a broken beer bottle over a slight shift in the breeze! Everyone knows you hate that guy! Boy, don't-"

Terri muted Pluto with an undetectable tap of her foot. "I have a little gift," she told Alastor, as a document appeared in her hand. "You said you wanted it in writing. I consider you very special, tricksy one, so I've done as you asked. What do you say, brightest star in my sky? Favorite star of my show?"

With more enthusiasm and obvious amusement, Al asked, "Can we add that 'fight God' part?" He kind of wanted to hang that on his wall next to the trolley story.

"Done!" The document said, 'Would consider fighting God.' Close enough. She held out her hand. "Button," she told him, "I want you to know that this is not a thing I typically do," and she meant it. "I wouldn't write such a detailed contract like this with someone I didn't like. I don't trust strict dealmakers. So please know I'm doing this because I was honest before when I said I wanted to get to know you. Pity you're so-" She wiggled. "-structured. But maybe I can break you of that tendency. Come now." She saw he was still hesitant. "Love, like I said, hesitation can trick you into walking away from good opportunities. You've arranged this so I can't hurt you. What more do you want? Give me a chance. You can always walk away."

Alastor took a deep breath and shook, gritting his teeth as a lime green glow surrounded him. What was he getting into?

[X]

Note: Btw, fun facts for anyone who might not be familiar- 'Ferdie Fox' is the only animal that didn't run from Casper the Friendly Ghost; 'Pluto' is the name of the black cat from the Edgar Allan Poe story that represented the narrator's guilt; 'MacGyver' was a TV character who could build almost anything out of random materials; and 'Echo' is the name of the wood nymph who fell in love with Narcissus.