Page 7 of Magpie

“ H e’s stable,” Peggy says, holding a white paper cup of coffee toward me.

I lift my head out of my hands, scrubbing them through my hair. Taking the cup, I sip the hot liquid, barely tasting it. Its warmth does nothing to chase away the chill that has settled inside of me.

“Lavern is with him now,” Peggy continues, sitting next to me and sipping from her own cup.

I twist mine in my hands, digging my nails into the soft Styrofoam. I stop when I realize I’m making the crude image of birds in flight. Letting out a shaky breath, I lean back against the wall and study the fluorescent lights overhead.

“Does this ruin your plans?” she asks. Peggy was never one to be comfortable with silence.

I look at her, confused for a moment, well and truly lost in my own thoughts of fluttering wings and black keys.

“You know, your plans to leave and go live some grand adventure,” she says, trying at a jovial tone to chase away the darkness of the night.

I try to hide my grimace, turning my attention back to the lights. I’m not going to live some grand adventure. I’m running and hiding.

“No, this doesn’t ruin my plans. It just…complicates them,” I say, fumbling for the right words.

I glance at my wristwatch and swear. It’s creeping toward midnight. My options are to spend all night in the hospital, or to flee home when the streets are covered in night. When he can easily find me.

As if reading my dark thoughts, the hospital lights flicker and I jump, dropping my coffee cup and splashing the contents over us both.

“Hey, easy,” Peggy says, wiping away at the coffee I spilled on her.

“Shit, sorry, Peggy,” I say, jumping up. “I’ll go find some napkins.”

I hurry down the hall, turning the corner toward the cafeteria, slowing to a stop.

The hallway is completely empty, but brightly lit by the softly buzzing fluorescent lights.

The cafeteria, however, is dark. Not so dark that I cannot make out the tables and chairs scattered around the room.

Still, I have learned the hard way to fear the darkness.

Sucking in a deep breath, telling myself I am being silly, I walk resolutely forward, my hands clenched at my sides.

Keeping my eyes focused straight ahead, I navigate my way through the empty chairs to the counter holding a container of condiments, plastic cutlery, and a napkin dispenser. I begin to pull out a wad of napkins—

“Magpie.”

I drop the napkins, almost tripping over the leg of a chair as I spin and peer into the darkness. “Where are you?” I snap, balling my hands into fists as I glare into the empty cafeteria.

I look down at my watch again. The face reveals the date, the current time, and the times of sunrise and sunset. I purchased it specifically so I would always be aware of when he would be free. It’s still September. He won’t be at his full power, not yet.

I try to ease my racing heart, try to tell myself that it is just my nerves. I can’t help but feel like they are all lies I tell myself as I scoop up the napkins and rush out of the room, nearly running back to Peggy.

“He’s awake,” she says, her smile of relief sliding off her lips as she comes face to face with the very real fear in my eyes. “Are you alri—”

“Here. I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I cut her off, pushing the wadded-up pile of napkins at her and rushing back down the hallway to where we were sitting.

Grabbing my backpack, I sling it over my shoulders and turn to find a stricken Peggy staring blankly at me.

I have no words to explain to her, and I certainly don’t have the courage to give her a proper goodbye, so I simply walk by her.

I move quicker with every step I take, desperate to put this life I should have never been afforded behind me.

“Wait, Maggie, don’t you want to see him?” Peggy calls out after me. “Maggie?”

My name echoes through the sterile hallways of the hospital, and it takes everything in me not to cover my ears. The sound of Tim and Jessica’s voices calling my name fills my mind as I break into a sprint and rush out of the hospital.

The good thing about living in a town this small is that nothing is terribly far away from anything, and soon I’m climbing the stairs to my apartment.

I planned to head to the train station the moment the sun rose, but I need to go now.

My nerves are on fire, and every part of my mind is screaming at me to run, run, run .

I burst into my apartment, shutting my door but not even bothering to lock it. I won’t be long.

Grabbing the pile of clothes on the floor, I stuff them into my backpack along with my laptop.

Tearing the blanket off my bed, I reach inside the slit in the mattress.

I pull out the thick brown envelope I’ve been hiding my cash inside, giving it one cursory look before stuffing it into my backpack, then reaching back into the mattress for the only other thing I need.

The key. My key.

I fumble around, my fingers poking and prodding, feeling for the ribbon.

Nothing.

My heart skips a beat, but I calm it down. I sometimes shove the key in too far and lose track of it. This isn’t the first time I’ve given myself a scare thinking it’s gone.

Searching around again, barely keeping my panic at bay, I feel the first real prickling of absolute terror as I continue to come up empty-handed.

It is here. It has to be here. I begin yanking great chunks of stuffing out of the mattress, tossing them to the side as I stick my hand in again and again, letting out a disgruntled growl as it continues to elude me.

I yank my hand out one last time, covering my face and screaming.

Hot, angry tears spill down my cheeks. How long has it been since I last touched my key?

Ten hours? Twelve? Bitter history has taught me the darkness will be setting in soon.

The gnawing emptiness will fill me, grip me, hold me tight and refuse to let me go.

I laugh at the cruel joke of it all. The only way I won my freedom was to take my key, something I cannot live without, and something I cannot hold for long.

Because the longer I hold it, the more I become Magpie.

And he controls Magpie.

I sit up straight, glaring out the window at the moon that shines down on me like a wicked smile.

Its perfect crescent shape casts barely any light in my empty apartment, just enough to illuminate the scattered mess of my mattress littered around me.

I glance down at my watch as the numbness begins to return, begins to reclaim its lost ground.

12:13am .

October 1 st .

He can’t have found me, not so quickly. The House is rumored to be on the other side of the country, although no definitive location has come up on any of the forums. I slowly shake my head, staring at the moon, repeating again and again the same words.

He hasn’t found me yet, he hasn’t found me yet, he hasn’t—

He steps out of the shadows near my window.

The feeble moonlight shines off the bright white edges of the magpie atop the key dangling from his hand, the red ribbon a stark contrast to his gleaming white glove.

He’s wearing the same dark suit he wore on the day I left, with a cut along the chest, the material stained.

I can’t make out the color in the darkness of the room, but I know it is a deep rust red.

The exact shade of dried blood. He’s still wearing the top hat, the ace of spades with the skull on the back stuck into the side.

How many people besides me know what is on the back of that card? I doubt he has shown it to anyone else.

His boots click softly against the wooden floor as he eats up the meager space between us. His piercing eyes are trying to find mine; I know they are, but I continue to look at the moon.

“Hello, Magpie,” he says, his voice exactly as smooth and deep as I remember. Exactly as horrifying. “It’s time to come home.”