TWELVE DAYS. TWELVE LONG, AGONIZING DAYS of going through the motions of life without really living through them. Twelve days of consistently trying and failing through every option the girls could think of to bring Madison home.
After everything, it wasn't the spirit board, or Ophelia, or their ancestors, or their magic that brought Corey to her. It was the blow flies that trickled throughout the house. The blow flies that led up through a hidden passageway through the walls. The blow flies that gathered en masse around the door frame of a secret room on the hidden third floor. Spalding's quarters— the reason why he was capable of traveling through the estate silently and without notice.
Zoe couldn't handle the stench that oozed from the cracks around the door. She pinned her shirt against her face in an attempt to deflect the lingering death. She coughed and gagged, taking a step backwards. "Shouldn't we go find someone? I mean, now that we've found—"
"No," Corey spun around to face the brunette, her eyes wild. "The moment Spalding knows we've been up here, he'll find somewhere else to put her." A chill ran down her spine as something inside the room called to her. She turned back around to face the door. Her hand hovered over the round antique doorknob in hesitation.
Whatever it was beckoned to her, urging her to follow through no matter what she was going to find on the other side of that door. She let out a slow, shaky breath as she closed her eyes. The fear grabbed hold of her. It was something she had no idea would come after spending so long trying to find Madison.
Corey swore she could hear the blonde's voice; a quiet "would you hurry the fuck up already?" quipped in the actress's impatient tone. She slowly opened her eyes and braced herself for whatever could possibly be on the other side of the door. She turned the knob slowly, the caution still there within her movements. The hinges let out a ghostly groan as she pushed the old wood out and away from herself.
"Ugh," Zoe vocalized her disgust. She lurched forward as she tried to pin the fabric of her shirt closer to her face. It was the wall of stench that hit them first. Corey squinted as if it was a visible wafting entity and she couldn't see through it. She heard Zoe cough behind her and rolled her eyes.
To their left, a wall of old, grime coated dolls caught Corey's attention. Her eyes scanned the large collection, landing on the life sized porcelain doll that rested against the floor. She closed her eyes briefly. Her mouth contorted into a disgusted frown as she moved into the room. She could tell that she wasn't looking in the right direction, but the antique tea set further along the wall sent a shudder down her spine.
Sticks of lit incense were scattered around, a grossly failed attempt at blocking out the stench of decay. The silent beckoning of the tether brought Corey to a large wooden trunk. It was long enough to hold a tiny, frail, five-foot-two-inch blonde. She swallowed hard, her lips quivering as she shook her head.
She stood there for a moment, favoring the silence and uncertainty over what she knew would be inside of the decorative trunk at her feet. She watched as Zoe leaned forward and cleared the stuffed animals off of the storage box for Spalding's most recent addition to his collection. The brunette crouched down, her palms pressed against the lid to lift it. She stopped, however, when she felt Corey's hand on her shoulder.
The redhead remained silent as Zoe turned to look at her. A shake of her head was all that the girl needed to understand that she shouldn't be the one to open the trunk. She nodded, slowly rising as she brushed the dust off her knees. Corey took a deep breath, stepping forward before letting her fingers push apart the seam of the weighted lid. She separated it from the base. The loud creaking wail of the rusted hinges caused her to grind her teeth slightly.
Zoe gasped. Her hand clasped over her mouth as her eyes locked onto the contents of the trunk before her. Corey refused to look down. Her eyes instead searched the ceiling above her, trying to find anything else to look at. The faint smell of Chanel Nº5 and menthol cigarettes tickled her nostrils. It caused her eyes to water, which forced her to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from breaking right then and there. She heard a scuffle behind them and immediately spun around. The anger was painted across her face within a beat.
Spalding lunged forward. His arms reached out to grab Zoe while she was focused on the wooden trunk. Corey's nose twitched, her jaw rolling forward in anger as she pushed her arm towards the man. Immediately, he was sent flying backwards. He clattered against the floor to ceiling collection of porcelain dolls. A staggering number from the top shelf tipped over and tumbled on top of him, shattering against him and the floor around him as he struggled to stand.
Corey hesitated slightly, confused as to how what was once Madison's own power had left her fingertips. She looked to her hands with furrowed brows. Her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably as she felt her eyes begin to water. She was lost for a moment in her own head, the 'what-ifs' spinning through her mind. The sound of Zoe's voice pulled her back into reality.
"Holy shit!" Zoe squeaked. Her other hand clasped against the first as her eyes grew wide. "Corey, what the fuck." Her words were muffled behind her palms, taken aback by the situation unfolding in front of her. The redhead's face grew stone-like in an instant, all emotion falling from her features.
"I could fucking kill you," Corey took a step forward. She ignored the brunette at her side as she redirected her attention once more. All of her anger— her frustration, her unrest, her pure disdain for the grimy, unsettling man in front of her— was being unloaded on the butler who claimed Madison as his play thing.
"I should fucking kill you." Her left hand moved, outstretched. It pinned Spalding down against his toys as Corey brought her right hand up towards her face. Her fingers flexed outward as the ball of flames flickered from her palm that remained close to her body.
"Corinna, don't!" Zoe's hand latched onto the redhead's bicep, grabbing her attention as she pulled her back slightly. "He's not what's important right now." Corey's shoulders relaxed as she took in a deep breath. She swallowed hard, her sad eyes moving between Spalding and the brunette at her side.
"You're right," the redhead nodded in response. The flames from her palm died down as she let her hands drop to her sides. As Zoe let go of her arm, Corey turned back to the wooden trunk. Again, she was pulled towards it, the unbroken tether still strong even though the blonde's powers were muted, if not gone all together.
She stepped towards the trunk cautiously, her breathing shaky. She could hear Zoe restraining Spalding behind her, making sure he couldn't get back up and interrupt them once again. She closed her eyes, the feeling of floating returning to her as she continued to move back in the direction of the storage space. When she opened her eyes, she immediately felt her knees give out underneath her.
Madison's porcelain skin was now a dull, veiny grey-purple. The blood that pooled in the gash across her neck created by Fiona was a gelatinous black; a thick tar pooling from ear to ear. Corey's small, frail, delicate, doe-eyed human doll was tucked away out of sight. The redhead reached inside the trunk. Her body shook vigorously as she tugged back the blanket that Spalding had used to tuck the blonde in.
The gasp that left her lips was audible. Her eyes focused on the arm that had been ripped from its socket and placed next to the girl. It was as if a child had broken their favorite toy and not wanted their parents to see what had happened. Zoe rushed to her side, immediately hearing the girl's panicked breathing.
"What is it?" She asked. She froze when caught the sight of what Corey had seen. "Oh, my god. How could that even happen?" She dropped to the redhead's side. Her eyes watered as she wrapped her arms around the musician. Corey buried her face in Zoe's comforting shoulder. She shook vigorously as she tried to calm herself down.
She contemplated whether or not she should grab ahold of Spalding's bare skin, knowing that touching Madison wouldn't show her what had happened. She decided against it. She felt as though she truly wouldn't be able to hold in her anger if she saw what the man had done to the actress.
She pulled back, swallowing hard. Her eyes scanned Zoe's face, trying to find the words to say. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. The brunette furrowed her brow. Her head tilted as she made an attempt to figure out what the redhead was trying to say. Finally, the words slithered from her lips. Her voice was hoarse as she held back the tears that threatened to fall.
"Take me to Misty Day."
Incoherent screaming rang out from the shack near the stream. Corey furrowed her brow as she climbed out of the passenger side door of her truck. She had let Zoe drive. Her nerves had been too overwhelming and she couldn't get herself to follow directions, or really listen to anyone else, after finding Madison in the state that she was in. She decided against closing the door. Instead, she made an attempt at sneaking up to the dilapidated hut without disturbing whatever was happening inside.
"Hey! You stop that!" The angry voice of a woman called out over animalistic grunts. As Corey grew closer, she could hear the Stevie Nicks track playing on the radio in the background. She swallowed hard, able to hear the woman yell once again.
"Stop that! You don't want to piss me off!" The grunting came to a stop for a moment as the woman continued. "I could be your only friend!" The stomping of feet was accompanied by a loud yelp and the smashing of glass. Corey spun around, her brow furrowed as she looked at a panicked Zoe.
"What the fuck is going on in there?" Her voice was a harsh whisper. The brunette's eyes only grew wider as the redhead trudged forward. Zoe was sure they were supposed to run away from danger, not towards it.
"Kyle!" Misty's voice was calmer as she tried to collect herself. Still, the screaming continued. "Hey!" Corey and Zoe grew closer to the front door. The music came to an abrupt halt as the sound of furniture shattering rang out once more. Corey stepped through the open front door. Her eyes scanned the war zone she'd walked in on. She watched as Misty dropped to her knees.
"Why would you do that?" The blonde sobbed. From behind, she bore a striking resemblance to Corey's mother. The redhead furrowed her brow. She took a step back, slightly confused. Her head tilted slightly as she observed the interaction in silence. She watched for a moment before pushing further inside.
"Why—You—Wh..." Misty paused. She collected herself as she gathered the pieces of her radio. "You're just a big ol' monster." The floorboards creaked behind Corey as Zoe took a step inside.
"Oh, my god," her hands flew into her hair. Her brows furrowed as she took in the mess. Kyle charged towards her, and Corey took a hesitant step backwards. The redhead's hands flew up in front of her face to protect herself. Next to her, Zoe remained still as a naked zombie Kyle wrapped his arms around her waist and sobbed against her.
"So that's what you two built, then," Corey muttered. Her attention turned to Misty as the woman spoke, though she wouldn't look up from the pieces of the radio in her hands.
"Get him out of here," she sighed. "He broke Stevie." Corey's brows flicked upwards as a scoff left her lips. Misty looked up at her, a range of emotions crossing her features; anger, confusion, peaked interest. "Who are you?" She asked, Her head tilted to the side as her eyes narrowed at the redhead.
"Corinna," she let out a laugh. Quickly, she looked the blonde up and down. For a moment, she forgot why she'd arrived at the small shack that rest against the Louisiana swamp. Looking at Misty was like looking directly at a past version of her own mother. The hair, the clothes, the makeup, the facial structure— all were reminiscent of a Fleetwood Mac era Stevie Nicks.
"Corinna Nicks. Daughter of the White Witch," she watched as Misty's shoulders fell. The information caught her off guard. It wasn't something she'd ever expected to hear in her lifetime. "And you're Misty Day."
"You know my name?" The blonde asked. The confusion warped its way into her features. She took in the modified version of Stevie Nicks that stood before her; the second generation of the witch she completely idolized. Corey smiled. She tried her hardest to hide the sadness in her eyes.
"It's hard to not know the name of a Salem witch wrongfully burned at the stake." Corey swallowed hard. Her head shook as she looked down at her hands. "I'm afraid I have to ask you for a favor." Misty rose from her seat on the floor, placing the broken pieces of her radio back against her makeshift nightstand.
"Someone I care deeply about was murdered. I'm afraid she may have been dead far too long for one witch's power to be enough to bring her back." Corey looked back up at Misty. She watched as the blonde contemplated the information she'd been offered. The swamp witch wiped her hands against her shorts, pursing her lips as she nodded.
"What's in it for me?"