Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially Janette Morgan
...and don't worry, there's not going to be any slutty-headstrong-gorgeous witch OCs or anything along those lines.
Disclaimer: I have no legal right to be writing this story, but that's just too damn bad.
"It's pissing rain out there."
Alex blinked. The din of the rain had stopped(or at least softened), and an unfamiliar figure with an unfamiliar voice was silhouetted in the now open window. The lights went back on to reveal the strange personage now closing a sopping, ratty-looking black umbrella. The woman standing on the windowsill was tall and lanky—at least six feet tall and skinny as a rail--and she was wearing the most bizarre assortment of clothes Alex had ever seen.
The stranger was wearing black patent-leather boots, black-and-white striped stockings, what looked like denim walking shorts, an oversized belt with a massive silver buckle, a purple corset for a top, and fingerless, velveteen black gloves. But the strangest thing was the coat. It was a grimy shade of green; the bottom half of it seemed to be rotting, there were gold-tasseled epaulettes on the shoulders, and the collar looked like it was made of a matted, mangy fur.
Alex watched in dumb awe as the lady opened the coat, revealing the inside to be completely lined with every size of pocket imaginable. She stuffed the closed umbrella into a pocket that looked barely big enough to hold a pencil. However, she got it in without a problem. She looked up to see Alex staring.
"What?"
Alex blinked.
The lady yawned and stepped off onto the window seat and inside, obviously intent on making herself at home. She strode over to the shelf and picked up the music box, blew the dust off, and commenced to examine it.
Alex finally found her voice.
"W--W-What're you doing in my house?" she said in a stunned, flat tone.
The woman looked up, surprised as if seeing Alex for the first time. She smiled, showing dingy teeth that were a little too big and pointed to be human. She set down the music box on the nearby desk; muttering to herself, she pulled a ragged, faded scrap of parchment from an inner pocket. She squinted at it.
"Alex Yew? Eleven years old?"
"Yes..." said Alex Yew, eleven years old, feeling very awkward.
"Oh good," said the stranger pleasantly. "For a moment I thought I'd gotten the wrong house."
"I'm sorry," said Alex, feeling a little offended by the random intrusion, "but I don't think I caught your name."
"Ragnabella Ascherputtle, commonly known as Rags," said Rags, smiling again. Alex took a close look at her. She had a thin, clever face, with a small pointed nose and huge, pale, cat-like eyes that had dark shadows around them. Her hair, pulled back in an attempt at a pony tail, was mousy brown and wild, with wisps of it coming out every which way. Her skin was so pale it had an almost bluish tinge. It was impossible to tell her age; she could be anywhere from fifteen to thirty.
"Um, not to be rude..."
"Yeah?"
"...but...why are you here?"
"I'm a kind of delivery girl, if you will," said Rags casually, resuming her examination of the music box. Alex shook herself, trying to get over the strangeness of the situation. "...well, are you here for the music box? 'Cause it's not for sale..."
Rags laughed, a wheezy, piping sound. The laughter turned into a small coughing fit, and once it was over Rags turned to Alex and gave her a weak smile. "Nah, I was just looking at it. You're the reason I'm here." She said, pointing a skinny claw-like finger at Alex.
"Are you going to kidnap me?" Alex asked, panic in her voice. Rags snorted. "No, you don't have to come if you don't want to." She pulled out an ancient-looking gold pocket watch from one of her inner pockets, frowned at it, and turned back to Alex. "Can we hurry this up? There's others in line if you don't want to come..."
"Where're we going?" asked Alex, suspicious. Rags quirked an eyebrow.
"Where the hell do you think? To Halloween, of course!" Rags beamed, showing her jagged teeth. Alex blinked again.
"Halloween's an event, not a place," she said, glaring at her new acquaintance. Rags snorted again.
"Show's what you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Holidays are places, I'll have you know," said Rags, rolling her dark-rimmed eyes and looking down her nose at Alex as if she was something like a squished slug. "Since your Halloween is ruined here, I've come to take you to the actual place. You're one of the selected living few who get half a chance to come. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity; think about it..." Rags gestured and gave a dramatic. "Of course, if you don't want to go..."
Alex opened and closed her mouth several times. Part of her wanted to go, but she wasn't sure what to do. When would she be back? Would she be back?
Rags stood in silence, giving her a bemused, irritated stare. After a minute of awkward quiet, she said in a silky, airy voice, "Well, you don't seem to want to go, soooo..." she leapt lightly onto the windowsill. Rags made like she was ready to jump off, when Alex cried, "Wait!"
Rags didn't move for a moment. She turned her torso, very slowly, toward Alex, a smug, triumphant smirk on her face. She slowly and deliberately extended her gloved hand. As if in a dream, Alex took it.
Rags' toothy smirk broadened as she clamped her long, thin fingers around Alex's small hand in a cold, vice-like grip. Alex noted that Rags had strange fingernails; they were black, but not painted black—the actual flesh itself under her glassy nails was dark and bluish. Alex looked up into the window and felt her stomach drop; the familiar view—lamppost, street, trees, and houses—had been replaced by a gaping, black void.
Suddenly changing her mind, Alex opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment, Rags glanced at her and said, "Ready or not, here weee gooooooooo!" Then, her small delivery in tow, she leapt with all her might out the window and was swallowed into the abyss.
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Well, that's chapter two...reviews appreciated...
Illustration of Rags: http/