Author Note:

Trigger warnings - Discussion of abortion, discussion of war regarding relationship ethics, dubious consent ('cause they're drunk) regarding the use of the Dark Shrine of Memory

Temptations from the Dark Side

Vincent sat on the pillow next to Abigail, mashing buttons on the game controller as fast as his little fingers could move. "Auntie, you're supposed to shoot the bad guys!" the child complained, passing a potato chip to David, the gerbil, in his front shirt pocket.

"You think I don't know that?!" Abigail growled angrily, failing at keeping her cool that some kid was doing better at this game than her. The amethyst-haired woman was so distracted that she did not notice Vincent had called her "auntie," rather than by her name. "They keep rushing me!"

They had finally reached the second level where the desert landscape became green and lush, but truth be told Abigail had realized an hour ago that she was the one dragging Vincent down in terms of skill. She really should have let the boy play a solo game to really test how far he could get on his own, but Abigail could not bring herself to be out-done by her boyfriend's kid brother.

"Then just run away and let me shoot them!" Vincent reasoned innocently, tapping a combination of buttons as he merged two power-ups together and took out a wave of oncoming enemies. Abigail exhaled deeply. Her pride was hurt, but that did not mean would be a terrible babysitter.

"I'm trying!" But it was too late, the screen flashed to indicate Abigail's death and the game was over. Vincent sighed heavily, but Abigail could tell it was not out of malice, just boredom. That almost made her feel worse.

"May I try by myself for a while?" the new gamer finally dared to request.

"Fine," Abigail relented, surrendering her controller to the child. Vincent squealed with delight, jostling David slightly. The gerbil let out a high-pitched protest and the little boy apologized to his new best friend.

Vincent started up a new game, his little cowboy standing in the center of the screen. "If I win, can I get a prize?"

The babysitter narrowed her eyes suspiciously in Vincent's general direction, but the kid did not perceive it. His big brown orbs were glued to the TV as he took out little green men left and right. "Like what kind of prize?" Abigail wanted to know.

"I wanna name Vincent Junior when he gets here," her boyfriend's little brother stated casually.

Abigail was flabbergasted. "Who?"

Vincent frowned. "Your baby!" he shouted excitedly. "My big brother told me he loves you and Miss Penny said that babies get delivered by the stork when two people love each other."

The young woman could not believe this conversation. Wait, did Sam actually say that? Abigail held her face behind her open palms for a moment in an attempt to compose herself. "Two people don't need to love each other to have a baby, Vincent," the failed gamer insisted. "That's not how it works."

Alarmed, Vincent forgot the game for a moment. "Why don't you love my big brother, Auntie Abigail?!"

Abigail opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. Vincent had missed the point entirely, but at least he was not asking her how babies were actually made. "I-It's not that I don't love Sam, it's just… I don't know if I want to be a mom anytime soon. Or at all! There's so much more to life other than having kids right away, you know?"

Vincent pondered this and nodded. "Well, I think you'll be a fun mom," the boy disclosed, shoveling a handful of candy into his mouth. "You let me eat junk food and play video games with me." He took the game controller back up after having lost a life and quickly went back to shooting the oncoming attackers. "I guess that's okay if you don't have a baby for me to play with right away. Just so long as you name him Vincent Junior once he's here." Abigail noticed his selective hearing, since the boy seemed to ignore the possibility that his brother's girlfriend might not want to have kids at all, but she was slightly flattered that Vincent believed she would be a 'fun mom,' despite her hesitation on the whole subject.

This time, Abigail was more amused and decided to mess with Vincent a little. "What makes you so sure the baby would be a boy?"

The child paused for a moment. "You mean you don't get to pick?" he asked in horror.

Abigail chortled. "No, kiddo. It's a surprise!" She delighted in watching Vincent's face contort through several stages of loss: denial, anger, depression. All within the span of a few seconds. In a way, this felt like petty payback for Vincent having such fantastic beginner's luck, but it satisfied Abigail to a certain extent. "So do you still want Sam and I to have a kid someday if the baby might be a girl?" she teased the boy.

"What's all this talk about babies?" Sam's voice interrupted with an anxious laugh. His eyes locked onto Abigail and gave her a searching stare. "Is there something I don't know about, babe?"

"I get to name Vincent Junior when the stork brings him!" Vincent announced proudly without waiting for Abigail to correct the misunderstanding. The amethyst-haired woman grabbed her boyfriend's wrist.

"Keep playing Vincent, I'm going to go talk to Sam in private really quick," Abigail informed her charge.

Vincent's brown eyes returned to the screen. "Okay!" he chirped, grabbing more snacks in his small fists. He had just lost, but since Abigail was not around to see and say that he could not name the baby Vincent Junior, he started over.

To say that Pam was unhappy that she was barred entrance from the local tavern would be an understatement. The lush woman was irate. She yanked on the handle, trying to pry the portal open by sheer force. "You can't lock me outta the bar!" Pam yelled furiously. "I practically live here!"

When the closed door mocked her weakness, Pam went around the back to the food delivery access, hoping to sneak in the back. But as the greying blonde reached out to turn the knob, Gus' voice brought her to a halt. "The sign says 'closed for private event,' Pam," he scolded his friend.

Pam whipped around to face the barkeep. "I'm the only business you get most days!" she complained. "I don't need to sit at the bar, so just let me in!"

Gus refused. "I have paying customers in my bar today and their only major request was to keep others out. I'll not ruin my fine reputation just because you can't go one day without drinking," the chef declared sternly. "Now come back tomorrow and quit causing me trouble!"

Pam shot the barkeep a dirty look. "Why are you punishing me, Gus? I'm your friend."

The mustached man acknowledged that fact. "Yes, you're my friend that hasn't paid her tab in over a season," he replied coldly. "And if you weren't my friend I wouldn't have let you back into my establishment after what you did at Shane's celebration party."

"What? You, too?!" the frizzy-haired woman growled. "What's wrong with adding a little life to a party?"

Gus observed Pam, his expression still. "Pamela, you could have seriously hurt Shane and set him back on a very dark path," the rotund man scolded his neighbor. "You're lucky I figured out that you spiked that punch and dumped it out after the fourth drink he had."

"Why is everyone so mad at me about it?" Pam demanded, her irritation as apparent as her smeared purple eyeshadow. "He's a big boy, he can make his own decisions."

"But you took that choice from him when you spiked the communal drink." Gus argued. The man widened his stance and crossed his arms over his body, posing a serious question. "Would you have been able to face little Jas if Shane had died of alcohol poisoning?" he probed the woman before him. "She's already lost her parents, Pam. Don't make it so hard for her godfather to keep on the straight and narrow."

Pam reflected on that potential reality, finally muzzled by her own guilt. "Fine…" she relented at last. "I'll do it for the kid," she swore with a heavy outbreath. She glanced at Gus. "But don't expect me pay that tab in full 'til I have a new job!"

Gus chuckled. "Well, in case you haven't heard, Mayor Shane was hunting for you earlier. There's a town-sponsored event tomorrow night in ZuZu City and he needs to hire a bus driver."

"Y-you mean?" Pam had not dared to hope that the new Mayor would keep his campaign promises, especially this soon after the election.

The barkeep dipped his head low to confirm Pam's assumption. "Yeah, you're hired. At least for one day," Gus enlightened his friend with a wink of his eye. "I hear if you do well enough staying off the bottle on the job, it might even be a permanent gig."

"Jodi, are you okay?" Caroline inquired in a low, soothing voice. She patted her friend's back affectionately, trying to rouse her to head home. "We should get going soon…"

The woman's head lay nestled in the crook of her elbow as she sobbed quietly across the table top. "Kent might be dead, Care," the light brunette wailed, ignoring the dampness of her cardigan sleeve. "Vincent is still so young!" the mother wailed, shuttering slightly. "How can I properly raise him without his father? He adores Kent."

Caroline's emerald eyes darted toward Gus and Emily pleadingly. They took the hint and made themselves scarce. After a few moments, the barkeep returned and spoke to the grocer's wife in a hushed tone. "Don't worry about locking up, it'll be fine for one night," the portly man convinced his neighbor. "But Emily and I have already cleaned up and she's heading home early. Let me know if you need my help getting Jodi home."

"Thank you, Gus," the homemaker expressed appreciatively. "You've been so kind today, I don't know how to express my gratitude enough."

The mustached man gutted his double-chin toward the sobbing housewife. "She's got it hard without Kent around," he muttered with a frown. "Poor Jodi, I only wish there was more I could do." Shaking his head gravely, the chef continued, "But I'm not her husband and he's the person she wants most right now."

Caroline nodded solemnly. "You're probably right." After a moment's silence between them, the woman finally shooed the bartender out. "I'll take it from here," Caroline pledged.

Reluctantly, the chef accepted the vow and slipped out the front door with Emily, who wore a gravely concerned expression plastered to her normally cheery face. When she was sure they were alone, Caroline knelt down on the floor beside her best friend, who could not stop the tears from falling from her puffy red eyes.

"Jodi…" Caroline coaxed the sobbing woman gently. "Do you remember the tale I once told you about the witch who lives in the mountains north of here?"

Sniffling, the braided-haired woman lifted her head weakly. "The one that can give people a fresh start?"

Caroline nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, Jodi. If you want, I can take you to her," the emerald-haired woman advised the warrior's wife. "I won't be able to go in with you, but she can make it so you're not so sad anymore. Would you like that?"

"I thought you said her jealous ex-husband locked her away from the rest of the world, to hide her from other potential suitors?" Jodi answered with a cheeky grin. Caroline understood. It sounded like a fairy tale, after all.

The grocer's wife chuckled. "You have a great memory for someone who drank so many margaritas." But Caroline petted Jodi's head and elaborated. "Yes, the wizard did lock her up," the older woman confirmed, "but he also underestimated the witch's power, so she escaped rather quickly. Then, the clever witch cast a spell on the evil wizard to alter his memory of her and make him think she was still trapped.

Caroline looked amused. "The wizard is none-the-wiser, and the witch lives freely, coming and going as she pleases and helping people who need her most." She lowered her head to gaze into Jodi's mournful eyes. "Would you like to go and see her?"

Jodi shuttered, her breath shaky as she tried to hold in her tears. "O-okay," she agreed, slowly rising to her feet. "I like the sound of that."

A smile stretched across Caroline's face. "Good," she replied, taking her friend's hand gently. "Let's go, then."

"So you're not pregnant?" Sam repeated, trying desperately to mask his immeasurable relief.

Abigail rolled her gorgeous cerulean eyes. "No, you dummy," the amethyst-haired reiterated. "How many times do I have to explain this?" She squirmed, slipping her boyfriend's hands off her shoulders. "Vincent just made assumptions because we're in a relationship and Penny told him the story when asked where kids come from. He assumed we were getting one delivered and got excited."

"So why were you talking about whether our baby was gonna be a boy or a girl?" the blond requested, attempting to make sense of all this.

"Why are you so worked up about a baby that doesn't exist?" Grumbling, Abigail clarified. "You clearly didn't hear properly and jumped to conclusions," she complained. "Vincent assumed that when people have babies, they get to choose the sex of the baby and I broke it to him that it's a coin-toss and it blew his little mind because he wanted a nephew named after him." She glared at her boyfriend, crossing her arms over her chest. "Apparently stupid runs in the family for you boys."

Sam laughed nervously in an effort to vent some anxious energy out of his body. "Well, Mom always teases Dad for having no common sense." His mossy green eyes fixed on Abigail. "But… you would tell me if you were pregnant, right?"

Abigail huffed, irritated by the question. "I dunno, Sam!" she exclaimed. "It would depend on whether or not I'd wanna be pregnant at all."

The young man bit his lip contemplatively. "So you'd consider not keeping the baby, if it were to happen?"

His girlfriend glared at him, eye gaze fiery with contempt. "It's my body, Sam," she spat flatly. "And we're both unemployed and live at home with our parents. What the hell would we do with a kid?" Abigail demanded to know.

Sam did not know what to say, so she went on. "And for all I know you'd ditch me to go to war and play soldier like your dad, leaving me alone with our kid," Abigail shouted. "So tell me, what the hell would I do if you died? Be a single mom to a kid who never knew their dad? That sounds like a shitty life to me."

At that remark, Sam took offense. "My dad is a hero and my mom understands the sacrifice he's making," he snapped back. He could feel a wave of adrenaline hit him as he dug in his heels, but it made him feel sick.

"Well that's a really shitty deal for your mom, alone raising two boys and constantly worrying whether or not her husband's gonna make it home," Abigail argued. "And it's a deal I'm not making," the angry young woman stated firmly. "If we had a kid, I'd never forgive you for leaving me like that. This whole war thing is stupid!" She stomped her foot, her emotions running high. "Your dad didn't have to go but he chose to leave his family anyway!"

Sam grit his teeth, pointing an accusatory finger at the general store behind them. "My dad left because people like your dad are too cowardly to fight! My dad is keeping everyone safe."

Abigail scoffed. "Are you fucking serious right now?" she countered with a growl. "The whole country knows this war is a sham, that's why anyone with any sense refused to fight for some patch of sand in the middle of nowhere that our country obviously has no claim over!"

"I guess if you feel that way then stupid really does run in my family," Sam replied in an eerily quiet voice. "In that case, I guess it's good you're not pregnant then, huh?"

His pulling back stripped Abigail of the desire to lash out any longer. "I guess we're both stupid for being in love with each other, aren't we?" she inquired as the flood waters flowed from her eyes. "We hardly even really know each other…" she began to bawl into the sleeve of her jacket. "If we can't even agree on this, how are we ever gonna work things out?"

Sam blinked, slowly processing her words. He stepped closer warily. "Who told you that I love you?" he solicited his girlfriend softly.

Abigail cried even harder. "Oh, great. So Vincent was wrong!" she wailed miserably, turning her body so the blond could not see her face. "Now I feel like an idiot!"

But Sam reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist affectionately. "I do love you, Abi…" he whispered into her ear.

The grocer's daughter wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Then why did you ask such a stupid question and make me think you hadn't said it at all?" Abigail sniffled, her mouth twitching as she tried to hold an overwhelming wave of mixed emotions.

The soldier's son exhaled audibly, appearing guilty. "I just… assumed I should be the one to tell you first," he explained with the slightest hint of a smile. "So I needed to know who to beat up for spilling the beans." Sam took Abigail back in his arms and let her cry it out until she felt better again. "We'll work it out, Abi," he swore to her sweetly, smoothing his hand over her soft, silky hair.

When her sobbing finally ceased, he pulled away slightly to see her face, tilting her chin up with his fingers. "So… you love me, too?" he wondered aloud, tracing the damp trails down her cheek with his thumb.

Abigail scowled, smacking his shoulder half-heartedly. "I guess so, you dumbass…" she laughed through the tears, despite herself.

Sam's lips turned upward by the smallest fraction. "You know, it's not that I object to you deciding whether you want to be pregnant or not. I know my mom complains how awful it was for her with me," the blond explained. "This conversation just caught me off-guard and I got defensive." He met her gaze, trying to convey his sincerity. "I just hope you feel comfortable enough to talk to me before you make a decision. Either way, I'm here for you."

Abigail nodded wordlessly before saying. "I'm sorry for insulting you and your dad…" the woman apologized, resting her head on Sam's chest and squeezing him in a hug. "It wasn't fair of me to attack you like that."

"I really respect my dad, but…" Sam frowned. "You're not entirely wrong," he admitted hesitantly. "I know I resent him leaving sometimes, and I know it's been really hard on Mom lately. I…" the blond heaved a heavy sigh. "I get where you're coming from." He rested his chin on the top of Abigail's head. "I won't ever go off to war and leave you to raise our kids alone, okay?"

The woman sniffed in amusement. "Assuming I ever give you any," Abigail retorted immediately. "Though I guess I should stick around for a few more seasons so you can rest assured that I'm definitely not pregnant," she added sarcastically.

Sam smirked wolfishly. "Well now that makes me wanna knock you up," he teased, nibbling at her neck, his hot breath steamy against the chill of the autumn evening.

She swatted at him again. "Don't you dare!" she giggled, Sam's nose tickling her skin, causing goosebumps on her chilly skin. "We've gotta get our shit together first before we even think about something that serious!"

Shrugging, Sam continued his playful assault on his girlfriend's senses. "Eh, my parents didn't have it all together and I turned out just fine…"

Abigail rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes, the young man savagely ravaging his girlfriend in the middle of town for everyone to see. They must be so proud," she responded sarcastically.

"It's just your neck…." The hot-blooded young man argued his case. "No one's around anyway."

It was then Abigail noticed the strange crunching sound nearby. The woman turned her head toward her father's store and spied Vincent standing there, watching them intently while munching on potato chips. She tapped Sam's shoulder to get his attention and the blond nearly dropped his girlfriend. The man jumped at the sight of his younger brother. "Vincent! What do you think you're doing?!"

The boy blinked inoffensively. "You guys were taking a long time, so I came to see what was keeping you."

Sam scratched the back of his head. "Uh, we just had a bit of an argument," the older brother confessed sheepishly. "Sorry we worried you, Vince."

Abigail dipped her head to concur. "It was kind of a stupid fight at first, but… I think we're gonna be okay." Her bright blue eyes glanced downward as she reached for Sam's hand, gripping it tightly. "I think it just means we need to communicate with each other more often. Not just about the fun stuff."

Sam gave her a one-armed hug and rested his head on hers. "Yeah…"

Vincent looked very serious as he joined her in staring at the cobblestones. After a while, the boy determined that mimicking the adults was boring. As he turned his gaze upward, however, he gasped, pointing at a purple hickey forming on Abigail's neck. His voice was high and alarmed. "You lied!" he screeched. "You two are zombies, I saw Abigail's rotting flesh! Now you're both gonna eat me!" He retreated back inside, leaning on the glass door of the shop in his endeavor to keep the monsters at bay.

The blond man exhaled audibly. "Not this again…"

Jodi stirred awake as she perceived steady footsteps approaching. As her vision slowly came into focus, the inebriated woman found herself on an old wooden floor, decorated with brightly colored fur rugs and large stone monoliths with eerie glowing eyes set equidistant from one another baring their monstrous teeth. "Wake up, my dear," a female voice urged her.

Turning her head toward the source of the sound, Jodi discovered a woman clad in black from head to foot, her green skin contrasting against the fabric of her clothing, perched atop a wooden stool. Jodi fluttered her eyelids, making sure her sight was not deceiving her. "Hello?" the mortal woman greeted the hut's occupant cautiously. "Where am I? Where is Caroline?"

The verdant woman beamed, her crooked teeth seemed strangely friendly despite her misshapen form. "You are in my hut, dear," she informed her guest, gesturing at the small structure around them. "And while I am willing to service new customers, Caroline is no longer welcome in my hut after trying to steal a few of my artifacts on another's behalf."

Jodi's grey eyes watched the stranger intently. "Can you help me?" the groggy woman asked. Her head was still swimming from the margaritas. "Caroline told me you can give a person a clean slate…"

Her host stood, giving a small bow so not as to displace her floppy pointed hat, and offered Jodi a hand up. "I am the Witch of Oblivion, at your service," she introduced herself.

This must be a dream, Jodi concluded. Witches were not real, just characters in children's stories meant to scare them into convenient obedience toward their parents. Not that it worked particularly well for her boys, but they had their use. Still, if this was not real, she may as well allow herself the space to mourn the potential loss of her husband without her children around.

"My husband… I miss him so much," Jodi articulated weakly, her voice wavering. "I don't even know if he's alive or not."

Nodding pensively, the witch put a hand on the small of Jodi's back and led him toward the center statue, its leaf-green eyes glowing ominously. "In that case, you may use my favorite shrine to rid yourself of the weight of your grief, my dear." She grinned in a transfixing way that made the floor stop moving under Jodi's feet. "Your friend has already taken care of payment, so no need to worry."

"This…" Jodi regarded the stone shrine skeptically, "statue will help make the pain easier?"

"But of course! It will be like it never happened…" the Witch of Oblivion guaranteed her patron. The green woman nudged her forward. "Now, do you have anything of your husband's to add to the bowl for this spell to take its effect?"

Jodi inhaled deeply, trying to compose her thoughts through the mire in his mind. "I… have a letter he wrote to me," the housewife answered. Her grey eyes glanced toward the sorceress. "Will that do?"

The witch bobbed her head approvingly. "Yes. Toss it in the bowl now, child!"

Jodi pulled the crumpled pages from the front pocket of her jeans. She kept it on her person so the boys would not find it. Clutching the correspondence one last time, Jodi then gently folded the paper and lowered it into the stone vessel. It burst into flame immediately and the emerald eyes of the boxy gargoyle illuminated in its flickering light. A strange, guttural moan rumbled the earth beneath Jodi's feet and the monster of the shrine opened its maw menacingly. The woman screamed, but the witch held her fast in place.

"Don't worry, my dear. All is well, he's just a little intimidating," the magical being promised her newest customer. But despite the witch's intentions, Jodi went limp in her arms as the shrine went still once more. The woman in black clicked her tongue as she shook her head at the younger woman's state. "Another fainter…" she lamented.

"Trobs!" the witch beckoned with a sharp bark. A hunched, green figure clad in a brown robe appeared. She waved him over. "Help me get our customer onto my broom, will you?" she ordered urgently. "I suppose I will have to make a delivery this evening."

Sebastian was walking home from the last band practice before their debut tomorrow through the backwoods that connected Fairy Rose Farm to his own home. From what he could tell, Abigail and Sam had a fight earlier that day, but luckily they worked things out in time for practice. Vincent got to be their first concert attendee, since both Sam and Abigail's moms went out for the day.

Violet tried her best to make the lyrics more palatable for children, but the attempt failed miserably. Funnily enough, the kid liked the original words to the song better anyway, so the farmer quickly abandoned the censorship. It was fun to see Violet cut loose a little once and a while. She said that he would like her outfit tomorrow and while that excited him, Sebastian worried that he might not focus on the music at the concert if it was eye-catching enough. The synth player sighed, resigned to his fate. Either tomorrow would go well or it would not. He would just have to try his best.

Without the cover from the shrubbery, which was already losing some of its fall foliage, the sounds of the crunching leaves beneath his feet were louder than usual, but he quickly noticed that the other usual nighttime noises had gone strangely quiet. Sebastian's obsidian eyes darted around, on high alert for signs of danger.

As his house came into view, the hoodie-clad man detected something in the sky. It was a bulky, strangely-shared figure blotting out the stars as it glided through the air. Assuming it was a trash bag caught in the wind, he picked up a small stone and threw it with all his might, imagining the rock making contact with the mysterious stain in the sky. His "launch item" spell worked, but instead of dragging the figure to the ground, Sebastian heard a sharp cry of annoyance when the pebble made contact.

Oh, shit. It's a person, Sebastian realized when he heard an angry voice scream profanities in his general direction as the mysterious darkness continued to head southward. I just pissed off a wizard or something equally better with magic than me. He did not wait to find out the owner of the voice, the rookie sorcerer simply ran as fast as he could away from the potential threat. If there was one thing for which Sebastian was skilled, it was self-preservation.

Once he made it safely through the front door, still able to pass through the entrance without engaging the shop's bell, Sebastian allowed himself to stop and catch his breath. Sebastian fished his phone out of his back pocket.

*I may have angered a local magician, just FYI.* He texted his friends. *Stay inside the rest of the night just to be safe. I'll explain in the morning.*