Salem Falls

The sun was bright and people milled about the streets, walking to and from different places, all greeting each other happily as they passed. Being in a small town, it was naturally for people to know one another, and it was almost tradition to murmur a quickly hello, or share a polite nod as you passed citizens on the street.

Shops and small taverns lined the sidewalks, people moving in and out of them. It never mattered what time of the day it was, people were always happy to go get good cooked meals, especially when the owners were always so polite.

One restaurant in particular was busy that day, a small coffee shop on the corner of the street. The sign read ‘Odd Cup-les,’ the small place known for it’s vast collection of cute coffee cups. Everyone that went there got distracted by trying to find a new cup every time they entered it’s chipped wallpaper surroundings.

A couple entered the store, causing the bell to ding. Siren Chevaux watched with cold green eyes, their acute abilities peering through the class of the shop from afar. Leaning against a brick wall across the street, she could see everyone thoroughly enjoying themselves, sipping on coffee and nibbling on pastries.

Licking her lips, the girl smiled. Everyone seemed so happy, never thinking that today could be a bad day for them. Humans always lived in ignorance, thinking that bad things could never happen to them, that they would never fall victim to crimes or horrors. Their ignorance was always their downfall, and Siren’s highest amusement.

Tucking a strand of very dark hair behind her ear, she glanced around. No one in sight looked like they were paying particular attention to her. Siren was good at blending in the shadows and being able to slink about without being seen. But when she wanted to be seen, she was sure that every pair of eyes was on her.

Rubbing her fingers together, her eyes trained on the building. More specifically, a scented candle that was lit on one of the tables. She knew it smelled like lavender, one of her least favorite scents. Lavender was a pure herb, one to expel darkness; it was a good thing it was just a candle and not the real plant, otherwise this may not work.

Thinking of the words in her mind, Siren picked the phrase she wanted to use. Because she was particularly good with fire, it was easy for Siren to use the noun ‘fire’ without having to elaborate on what she wanted it to do, without commanding it. With that particular element, all she had to do was think at it, and it listened.

“Ignis,” she murmured fondly, the Latin word for ‘fire’ rolling off her tongue like a lovers name. She watched from afar as the candle sparked wildly, hitting the napkins and instantly setting them ablaze. “Good girl.”

The couple at the table jolted away from the flame in surprise, not understanding how the candle had touched the napkins, or how they had caught so violently. In minutes the table was aflame, everyone screaming and fleeing from the orange beast that was licking with many flaming tongues.

A worker snatched the fire extinguisher from the wall, removing the pin and running towards the fire valiantly. Siren moved her hand in a small wave, tossing out a chair in her way and prohibiting her from getting to the growing blaze. A chuckle escaped Siren’s mouth as people clustered around the building that was quickly catching fire, alarms going off.

And then it stopped, the fire disappearing like nothing. Siren straightened, her fists clenching, absolutely ruffled. A fire didn’t just stop- especially if it was one created by Siren. Glancing around, she saw many faces, but none that were recognizable. But the girl new by experience, knew in her gut that one of those faces was a mage, a person of magical talent.

Cursing under her breath, Siren turned, not bothering to watch if anyone had gotten hurt. Her amusement was put out just as quickly as the fire was, which made her very, very annoyed. If she had known one of them had been around, she would have used a stronger spell, one fortified by more words and concentration.

“Fucking tree huggers,” she hissed as she rounded a corner, going to her flashy car, sitting in three parking spaces. She knew it was irrational to park horizontally, but she didn’t care. “Always getting in the way and what not. Isn’t it enough that they worship trees and bunnies?”

Technically, the Lunar Circle did not worship trees and bunnies. In fact, Siren was not sure what the ‘holy’ or ‘good’ coven did, but she knew that their ties to nature and being pure was too much for her to stand, or want to understand. No, Siren enjoyed being powerful in dark arts, having demons and sacrifices aiding her in her work. Life was easier that way, especially because people feared you.

Getting into her car and turning it on, she punched the gas, peeling out as she left the parking spaces behind, making another car swerve out of the way. She flashed them a middle finger, shrugging when they blared their horn at her. Muttering a string in Latin, she heard the satisfying bang as the tires on the car behind her blew out. “Karma.”

Driving down the road at high speeds, Siren hummed lightly to the music in her car. It wasn’t until she was almost home that she became aware she needed an animal to sacrifice that night at an alter if she was going to keep on good terms with the demonic spirits she kept in contact with- especially after her coven leader’s recent passing. Demons were always the best way to do spells, and she had to keep them pleased if she wanted to keep doing those particular spells.

Pulling off to the side of the road, Siren parked her car. She knew it looked odd to have a bight red Mercedes parked next to a line of tall trees, but she shrugged. There were many things that were strange about the small town of Salem Falls, a car being on the side of the road was hardly one of them.

The darkness of the thick trees soon covered her as she walked through them, silent as the grave. She felt as if the trees had darkened intensely at her arrival, as if they were leaning away from her. Looking at them with a cocked brow, she noted that she was not overly fond of trees either.

As she walked in deeper, slowly and letting her eyes trail the undergrowth and foliage for a rabbit, she heard a voice. The male voice made her pause and listen to the wind carrying it. curious, she began to follow it, ducking around trees and under branches, careful not to catch her jeans in the weeds.

In a small clearly, she saw a boy leaning over, murmuring kind words to a hare that was frightened in a trap. He was examining the contraption, obviously unfamiliar with it. Though his back was to her and he was crouched, Siren could tell that he was much taller than her and that he was blonde.

“Shhh,” he murmured, trying to calm the squeaking the small rabbit was emitting. “I’ll get you out in a moment, alright?”

There was an Irish lilt to his voice, which was surprising, but what surprised her even more was when he was listening different phrases in Latin, then shaking his head and changing it a bit. A smile curved on her lips as she recognized the words, knowing that the boy in front of her was in fact a mage- from Lunar Circle. Thinking on her foiled plot earlier, revenge coiled in her heart like a snake waiting to strike.

Ducking behind a tree, she watched the blond boy decide on a phrase. He prepared himself and then said the spell very carefully, but little did he know, Siren was muttering a counter spell at the same time, but with stronger words. Which is exactly why he looked put out when the trap didn’t open.

Siren stifled a snicker as he rearranged his words, practicing them before wanting to use them, which is how she was able to think of a counter spell before he could perform it. Once again, the boy attempted and failed, letting out an angry sound as he stood up, running his hands through his hair.

Deciding she was bored, Siren materialized from the darkness, startling him. He stared at her in confusion, but it didn’t take long for him to know that the dark, beautiful girl standing in front of him was bad. She practically breathed evil.

“Having trouble?” she questioned, gesturing to the cage. Her tone was not at all kind. In fact, it was patronizing. “Seems like a pretty simple thing to open.”

“You’ve been hindering me, haven’t you?” he demanded, glaring at her. She shrugged, leaning against a tree trunk. A wind went through the forest, making the tree creak. Looking at it, she seemed to give it a second thought and stood up. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Siren,” she answered, walking towards him and leaning over the cage. He stood his ground, watching her with curiosity. “And you?”

“You’re from Sixth Circle.”

She glanced up at him, expressionless. “I asked you for a name.”

He seemed to debate this for a moment, shifting from one foot to the next. In his lapse of silence, she studied him, quickly trying not to show that she thought he was beautiful. He had eyes blue as the sky, with yellow ringing his pupils, like the sun. His face was perfect, and innocent, and she had been right- he was much taller than she was, especially with his blonde hair styled perfectly. “Niall, Niall Horan. Are you one of them?”

A slow smile spread across her face, razor thin. “Sixth Circle, making black magic look good since 1700.” The hare in the trap when very still then, making her raise her brows at its death. Oops. “And now we know why the tortoise won the race. Congratulations.”

Niall looked at the rabbit and his face fell, an expression so sad and pitiful that for a moment, Siren felt bad. Then she scoffed at herself, watching as he kneeled, murmuring peaceful words to the dead creature, as if to console it.

“It’s dead,” she called loudly. “It can’t hear you.”

“It still deserves words of peace as it leaves the world,” he insisted, not looking up at her. He could not tear his eyes away from the small, innocent creature.

A burst of laughter fell from Siren’s plump lips. “Something tells me you were that kid in the sandbox that got beat up all the time.”

Ignoring her comment, Niall stood, facing her. He was angry. And attractive. Cocking her head, Siren patiently waited for his response. What she got was narrow eyes looking her up and down, as if trying to categorize her. “You look like someone I know,” he said slowly. Siren’s heart dropped. “A woman, who used to live with our coven… Syrenna Amelia Chevaux. Syrenna sounds an awful lot like Siren.”

“And you’re name sounds like a river in Egypt,” she snapped, feeling edgy and fearful at the sound of her mothers name. “But the river didn’t give birth to you, did it?”

The girl had not realized what she implied until realization filled Niall’s blue pools. “Siren isn’t your first name- Amelia is. I remember her talking about you, saying that she had a daughter.”

Siren’s eye twitched in anger. How dare her mother talk about her to others? Syrenna had absolutely nothing to do with Siren, even since the woman had abandoned her as a little girl to flee to the good coven, to a coven that she thought was more important than her own daughter.

Rage, pain and hate filled Siren’s heart, so much that she felt she was going to start bleeding it. Moving past Niall, Siren began to stalk off into the woods, intending to snatch an animal and leave the boy behind. Her curiosity of him had fizzled out with the mention of her real name, replaced by instant hate.

“Wait!” Niall snatched her wrist and Siren reeled, her instincts kicking in as she shoved him with her other palm, hitting him in the chest with fire licking in her hands. The flame went right through his shirt and she was met with the smell of charred flesh as he hollered in pain, stumbling back and clutching his fresh burn.

“Touch me again,” she warned, fire still dancing along the tips of her fingers, fueled by the ghost of her mother’s name, “and you will become very familiar with the term ‘ashes to ashes.’”

Without another word, Siren left him standing there with a burn on his chest and a ghost of her past.