It was strangely chilly today.

I stuff my hands in the pocket of my jacket as a puff of white smoke billows past my dry, cracked lips. Behind me, two girls from Woodmont High school are talking about someone whose name sounds faintly familiar. While to my side a boy is listening to heavy metal though big thick headphones, yet it's still easily recognizable. Five Finger Death Punch. Jekyll and Hyde. One of Sally's old faves.

A smile stretches across my features as I lean back in my seat, my eyes on the screen above the center aisle. In bright red letters the street names flash across the screen as we pass, the apathetic voice on the speaker calling each out.

As the bus stops at Gregory St. I throw my school bag over my shoulder and stand up. My grip tightening on the seat in front of me as the bus takes off. My smile widens just a bit as the bus gets closer and closer to my destination. This has got to be the one! Third time's the charm, right?

"Next stop: Oak Street."

I walk towards the doors and dismount the bus after saying farewell to Mr. Klaus, who doesn't really bother to look towards me, but he does mumble out something reminiscent to goodbye.

However, the smile falls once I see Sally dressed in her signature black and white hoodie with her new parka over it and a cigarette Between her lips. She looks up as I approach, her lips pulling further down as she pulls the cig from her mouth and pats the stoop next to her.

I sit, despite the urge to just turn tail and walk home.

Sally takes another drag of her cigarette and rubs her head with her free hand. She grumbles something in what I assume to be German. Her voice is low and devoid of any traces of the goofy girl I'd grown up with for practically my whole life. "How's it going Morrigan. Tell me something good. Please."

I sigh and huddle a little close to her. "Well, Mel's — Mel, I suppose. Nothing's really been going on with me other than the multiple failures to get a job. I think Mel's waiting for something though. She gets all excited when she looks at the mailbox. And a little sad when it doesn't come."

She sighs as she looks to me, then stares ahead. It faintly looks like she knows something about this — she probably does, she is Mel's cousin — but doesn't say anything about it. Instead, she drags the finished cig across the ground before pulling out her pack and slotting the remains into the empty space. Then, after a few seconds of contemplation, she lights up another and rests her head on her palm.

We stare at the small colony of gulls at the edge of the lot, pecking at something someone had probably dropped earlier. "That's good, I guess. Can't say it's much better for me." She shakes her head and continues to mope for a little bit. "The old man is sending me off to the Norvrant to go watch over his precious princess. And I was really hoping I'd be able to convince him to let you take my job, but the jackalope's being so damn stubborn. Hired his stupid nephew instead."

She groans as some guy comes walking out the store, dragging a girl behind him. They were kids in my grade, a couple from what I'd heard.

"Stupid!" She mutters as a skinny black haired guy, a few years older than me, walks out of the store. His eyes briefly looking around the empty gas station lot until they settle on us. A scowl comes to his features as he walks up.

The area around his eye is already starting to turn a funny color and his lip looks a bit busted up, too, but he dosen't look too bad... yet.

"What'd you do this time dummy?"

He sticks a cellphone in her face. "Uncle wants to talk to you, Mutt."

She rolls her eyes and whispers a curse under her breath before snatching the phone out of his hand. Her eyes move up to him after he didn't leave. "Why don't you go take care of the store, Mr. Soon-to-be black-eye."

He scowls and stomps back into the store as one of the mechanics in the garage next door scolds him for nearly ripping the door off its hinges.

"Yeah, what do you want?" Her tone is hostile. Like she's about ready to reach through the phone and deck her own father. Which, to say the least, isn't something I doubt she'd do if it were physically possible.

"He did his trial day yesterday, I'm surprised the shop's still running, doesn't know what he's doing. And he just got decked by one of the customers. Next someone'll probably just douse this place and set it off. He's the worst." She bites down on the end of her cigarette, her teeth going all the way through the filter of her third cig. Which I somehow only see now as I'm sure the second was halfway through the last time I checked.

She spits out the filter and crushes the whole thing under her leather boot. Her eyes stare into the pavement as she speaks to him in what I can only assume is German. "Möge der Schwarze Hund deinen Weg kreuzen, Vater." With a growl, she hangs up the phone.

I won't say I know exactly what she'd said, but I know it was something about the black dog. And from the way she'd said it, it was some kinda curse. "Don't you think it's a little... rude to say something like that?"

She scoffs. "No! Not with what he called me. I got a mind to tell him and that little princess of his that they can rot in hell. I'm sick of all of 'em. Especially that rotten fool sitting in the shop."

I nod and watch one bird steal some food and hurry up to the pylon sign at the edge of the lot. A few letters in Georgie's Gas and Garage flicker as the bird perches. I don't know who the hell Georgie was, but I'm sure it isn't Sally's dad. "Whose Georgie?"

Sally looks up to the sign. "Haven't the slightest idea honestly. Probably some guy who owned the place before Dad got his mitts on it."

"Ah."

It gets quiet for a little while as we watch the mechanics work on the cars or the gulls hanging around the parking lot.

Eventually, she sits up a bit straighter and lets out a small sigh. "Well, cheer up, kiddo. I'll keep my ear out for anything else that comes up before I go." She looks over to me with a smile and pats my shoulder. "I'm sure there has to be some pretty nice places to work at that would be way more grateful than my father would be."

🐾

"Wow, I can't believe Sal would say something like that to her dad. I wouldn't wish a black dog on anyone, honestly." Mel's lips twitch downwards as she crosses her arms and breaths a small sigh. It really shouldn't have been much of a surprise considering how rarely she talked to her father. But, then again, Mel doesn't often pick up on the various fights the two have. Probably because her mind is always on something bigger and better than the here and now.

I pull the door to Rodger's Bar open and allow her to enter first. My lips tug into a scowl as the tall man working at the bar waves over at us. "Robbie," Mel calls as she enters the bar and slides into a seat at the edge of the bar. Another cousin — though, due to the year age difference they are much closer than her and Sally. But, still, she never seems to notice how he flinches every time she makes that annoyingly squeaky voice.

"Hey," he mumbles as he cleans another glass and places it on the dish towel next to him. "You guys didn't have to come in."

Mel shrugs. "Well, we wanted to."

"... Sure." He looks up at me, still standing next to Mel like I'm her kid sister or something. "Anyway, how's your days been."

"Nothing special," I muse. It's not like this is the worst day in the world, but I still don't feel good about not getting hired for my third job in a row. It's so annoying. Then again, I don't really think I would want to work there without Sally anyways.

His eyebrows scrunch together for a moment as he watches the two of us carefully, but after a moment, he shrugs it off. For a few moments he continues his work. Occasionally looking up as Mel shifts in her seat. God, she sure is being antsy lately.

"Are you okay?" Mel looks up at me, a big grin stretching across her features. It's that grin she always gets when something good happens.

Robbie stops working and leans forward. "Alright, what's so exciting?"

She takes a deep breath. "I finally got it! I got accepted into the college I've always wanted. Isn't that wonderful?"

I crack a smile and nod. Yet at the same time it feels like something in my heart was shattering bit by bit. Every second another piece drops into the void. Why do I feel like that? I should be so happy for her...

Robbie on the other hand has reached over the counter to pull her into a hug.

While a few of the not so drunk customers say congrats as they walk past our group of three.

Mel just seemed to brighten as she talked about something or another with her cousin. All the while my brain had moved from her celebration to my own thoughts. The idea of Sally and Mel leaving was scary, Mel's school might not have been as far away as Norvrant, but she'd probably forget about me. I would be replaced by so jackalope who didn't even know her.

I rub my forehead, glaring at Robbie. "Why'd you flick me?"

"You were just staring at the wall. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

"Sure," Robbie snickers. "Can you do me a favor and go grab the glasses and stuff."

I grumble under my breath, slowly walking from table to table, grabbing the various dishes, then returning to Robbie after each table. Yet, as I begin walking to the last table, I stop. There is only one glass on the table and it was shaking like we were experiencing a earthquake. But, nothing else was shaking.

It shook until finally it flings itself onto the floor and shatters to pieces.

"What was up with that?" Robbie muses.

Within seconds Mel was standing next to me with a dustpan and broom, sweeping up the glass. "Probably just another spirit... nothing to worry about. I'm sure." Mel's reply was so quick my head begin to spin a little bit.

"Well, I kinda hope it's nothing bad. Rodger just got done warding the bar after the last poltergeist came through," Robbie says as he places the garbage can next to Mel. His gaze briefly shifts my way, and he pats my shoulder. "Morrgie?"

I shake my head and cross my arms.

Mel's mom had mentioned something like that happening to a relative when she was younger. It was customary to set a glass at the opposite end of the room of a sick person. That's because if it wriggled its way off of the desk without warning or reason, it foretold their death. And after that had happened the individual died within days.

Does that mean... I'll die? Is it a proximity thing or does it just mean someone in the room was going to. I mean, there weren't any cold spots, no flickering lights, no oddities except the glass itself. This day is just getting worse.

An unfamiliar voice resonating through the bar shocks me out of my thoughts. I almost jump, my eyes darting to and fro before Robbie turns me around to face the TV, as if trying to tell me that everything was fine. "Remember, special bulletins cause the TV's to turn on. You know that. Right?" When he doesn't receive any response at first he let out a sigh. "Don't worry, it's probably just another rash of Poltergeist activity just like last time."

After a second my mind seems to come back and I slowly nod as the three of us return our attention to the screen. The current reporter is still talking about something unrelated to this notice. While a small banner going across the screen read "First Black Dog Murder in fifty years."

My eyes shift to Robbie. His skin is as pale as a ghost and his hand is so shaky that he looks like he's going to shatter like the glass from earlier. "Damn, that's worse than a poltergeist," he mutters. "Much worse."

"Black dog murders?"

Robbie looks at Mel like she'd grown another head on her shoulders. "You don't know what the black Dog Murders were — are. I'm barely a year older than you and I know what they are." He shakes his head

"All across the world, there have been these cases — thirteen each time — of people who die after seeing one of them black dogs. People say it's gotta be the same person, the way the people go is just too similar to previous cases."

I frown. "Come on, Robbie, it's gotta be a good copycat, they'd have found the guy already if it wasn't. I mean, nothing around here can live that long. And if they could, the police can just look at the registry. How many supernaturals could live four centuries or more?"

Both Robbie and Mel shrug and turn their attention back to the TV as the reporter finally begins her piece. "Today, Nancy Haywood and Margaret West were found within a burning car. Currently, it is unknown if this was an accident or if foul play was the cause. However, police found a silver bullet within Ms. Haywood's pocket, an item usually found on the victims in the infamous Black Dog Murders," she begins, "Any residents that have seen a black dog in recent days are to report this to the Association Members at their local police station within 24 hours of the sighting."

Mel shivers as she rubs her arms. "Man that's creepy."

I wonder... could that have been one of them coming through here... or could their deaths have disturbed something... maybe that's why the glass did that. A frightened spirit is a powerful one after all.

Yet, as I look up to Robbie, he seems more confused than scared now.

"Why two?"