“There, there,” Noël said. It was in times like these that he wished Lila were still around....not Lila the mirror witch, but what she was like before she had been forced to reside within mirrors, water, and other reflective surfaces.

Distressingly, the faceless spirit had not been crying. He supposed referring to her as a ‘faceless’ spirit was heartless now that he knew the reasons for her appearance, but as he did not know her name, that was as much as he could do……

I grew so accustomed to her nursery rhymes, Noël says to himself. He spared the spirit a glance as he waited for her input.

Minutes passed, but still…nothing.

The room was so incredibly silent.

Noël sighed, resigned and…tired. “We’ll get you out of here.”

And then I’ll take care of that store owner.

He leaned down until he was eye level with the corpse’s face. Noël’s eyebrows were pressed together as he brushed the skeleton’s loose hair from her skull. Carefully and without a word, he picked up the girl’s skeleton with ease.

“You don’t have to be lonely anymore.” It was unclear whether he was saying this to the skeleton or the spirit hovering behind them. “I’m sorry no one heard your voice, but…you can rest. Leave everything to me.”

Seconds passed by, but to him, they felt like centuries as he stepped out of the backroom.

You’re safe now, is what he wanted to say as he turned towards the ghost girl. Only…the overwhelming scent of peppermint and dark chocolate filled the air. Or perhaps not……

“What do you think of my store?” The store keeper, murderer, Emerett asked as he stepped out from beneath the shadow of a large shelf.

“It sucks,” Noël automatically responded. What’s with the theatrics? Does he think that makes him look intimidating?

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“You suck,” the vampire was quick to say.

“Answer my question,” Emerett repeats. He smiles pleasantly. The ghost girl shuffled away and hid behind Noël.

“Well, this is a slaughter house, is it not?” Noël spared another glance at the skeleton in his arms. While old and cracked, it did not appear to be at risk for breaking apart. “There’s not much else I could say.”

“I used to get so many visitors,” the store owner said dreamily. “My work was absolutely perfect. At least, that’s what my younger self thought. Day in and day out, I would create the most wonderful toys.”

“You should have seen this store in its heyday,” the old man sighs.

“I find that hard to believe, Noël snarks. “There’s nothing here for miles. Sure, a hunter or a patrol office might come across this place, but willing customers?”

“There used to be a town not too far from here. They’ve long since disappeared, but…traces still remain. Follow where the birds fly low. That is where you will find them.”

Birds…? I could stab him and leave, but there’s something I must know……

How did he find out about Aunt Delia? Was…she a part of this ‘town?’

“So many people found joy in my creations. Stuffed animals, dolls, toy furniture. I was content for a time, but…there was always a missing element……” There was a murderous glint in the store keeper’s eyes. “Anyone could make toys with enough talent, practice, and resources. Nothing about my work was special. It’s about as inconsequential and fleeting as a rainstorm.”

“These thoughts plagued me, but I bore with them. My business grew as my apathy for my art increased,” Emerett recounted, voice getting louder and louder. “I thought I would be forever subjected to mediocrity, until……”

“She stepped inside,” Emerett sighed once again.

“I still remember that day. The bells chimed, but when I looked up, I was greeted by the loveliest red eyes. They were hidden behind golden glasses, but they only enhanced her already incredible angelic beauty. At that moment, I knew nothing I would ever create would match this woman.”

I’d rather not hear this…… Noël resisted the intense urge to throw his hands in disgust. But I must find out as much as I can about Auntie.

“She had the most beautiful voice. ‘Delia’, is what she said her name was,” Emerett sang. He walked back to his register and reached for another cigar.

The scent of peppermint and dark chocolate mixed with blood still lingered heavily in the air.

“Delia, in all of her kindness, told me she was searching for a gift for her nephew,” he remarks. “Noël is what she said his name was. This kid…you’re him, aren’t you?”

Noël stared back, lips pressed in a straight line. “What does it matter to you if I am?”

“I’ll get there soon enough,” the shop keeper chuckled. Gray smoke billowed around him. “Well, I knew nothing could compare to her beauty, but that wouldn’t be anything she did not already know. I showed her my dolls, which were my most popular item…”

Emerett took another lazy drag from his cigar. “Do you know what she told me?”

That you are a talentless hack? Noël bites his tongue, lest the words spill out of his mouth. “Tell me.”

“These…materials that you use. They’re alright, but I could do better.” Emerett smiled, gazing wistfully at a stained glass window depicting a witch burning. “They aren’t bad by any means, but…there’s something lacking. As a fellow artist, I can see the discontent in your eyes. Correct me if I’m wrong. And…she was right. Absolutely right.”

“What I needed was…something more.” The ghost fidgeted her hands anxiously as she peered over Noël’s head. “My creations were so fake…so…lifeless……There’s no beauty in mere thread and cloth.”

A cold shudder runs down Noël’s spine.

“And so, that very evening, I took out a shovel and broke into the nearest cemetery. Materials were plentiful, but it was difficult to find a healthy corpse as most were already subjected to the plague. It took all night, but…eventually I came across the one. I don’t remember what she looked like, but her beauty paled in comparison to Delia’s. She wasn’t perfect, but she was all that I had to work with.”