Here's Johnny! pt.1

The fog had swallowed the town as the sunlight crept up slowly behind the hill due east. Unlike any other mornings, the birds had decided to refrain from chirping gleefully. Wrath tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to shake a heavy feeling off of her chest. Something about her newly acquainted spirit friend didn't sit well with her. Though Eros seemed to show no negative response nor doubts towards the ancient spirit.

They knew next to nothing regarding the eloquently spoken and polite sentient other than the fact that her powers had brought despair and glory to many in the past. Very little was known due to the private nature of her personality. Unwanted attentions were not uncommon.

At a glance, Wrath and Eliza bore an undeniable resemblance with each other. Their long dark hair graced their chest gracefully. Had Wrath had the same hair color, people might mistake them for each other. Both had unnaturally pale skin, one being a spirit and the other from their reluctance to stay under the sunlight for longer than half an hour.

It was a miracle that she hadn't suffered from vitamin D deficiency. But, under closer inspection, their facial features differ from one another. Eliza had a pair of sparkly ruby red irises. Now this was not rare for an undead entity to possess such trait. Wrath on the other hand, had an all-consuming dark eye that seemed to pierce through the soul of whoever she looked – or rather, stared – at.

Being a living and breathing human, Wrath's cheeks were rosy. They both dressed up in a drastically different style. Back when Eliza was alive and actively practiced magic as the leading enchantress of her clan, being completely dressed was not compulsory. To stay connected and in-touch with their surroundings, witches tend to dress in minimal clothing and grew their hair long to cover most of their skin.

In this modern era, Wrath preferred to show the bare minimum amount of skin. She would often be seen wearing a hoodie, long pants of various materials, sunglasses, face mask, and sometimes fingerless gloves. These all existed in the darker side of the color spectrum. She was notorious for being the weird quiet kid due to the way she behaved and dressed. Her families weren't ones to shy away from being the town's topic of discussion either.

An image of Eliza screaming bloody murder with bugged out eyes reached out to Wrath. It felt so real unlike any lucid dreams she had before. She jumped up from her slumber with her heart beating out of her rib cage and breathing heavily. A wave of sharp and pounding headache hit her like a tsunami. She grasped both sides of her head and tried to steady her breathing in order to rationalize the situation.

"Are you alright master?" Eros rushed to her side.

"Yeah, just had a startling vision. Haven't had those since what happened to them. I'll be fine though," she sank into her pillows.

"Is something bothering you? You were quite restless last night," he furrowed his brows.

"I think it's just been a long time since I had any drastic changes in my life," she covered her eyes with her forearm.

"You better start packing if you want to make it to the peak before noon," he reminded.

With that, she stumbled to get on her feet and started packing things into a waterproof adidas duffel bag. Wrath had the habit of locking her personal belongings in a safe under her study table. She had never revealed the combination to any living soul and for good reason too.

It contained piles of journals and paraphernalia as well as a spare laptop in which she stored many documents and secret transactions. Though she had always used VPN and browse in incognito mode, it pays to be cautious. No such thing as too careful.

She put on her signature black Brandy Melville halter top, biker jacket, tight jogger, and a pair of chunky military boots. On the way to the front door, she grabbed a chocolate bar from the fridge and left a note on its door. 'Sry, in a rush. Needa borrow d bike. B back in 2 days. XOXO, Wrath'. The pizza shaped fridge magnet held the post-it notes next to a polaroid picture of the three of them taken by someone else.

The background was of Pride's car with Wrath on top of the car showing the metal hand sign, Lust on the hood with his tongue out and one eye closed, and Pride on the driver's seat with his window down. It was taken earlier that year on Pride's birthday. They spent the whole night lounging in the car on a cliff overlooking the town and drove to the nearest shitty pizza parlor where the intern had offered to take a picture of the trio.

"That was an unforgettable night wasn't it?" she caressed the picture.

As the front door closed behind Wrath, Lust had just woken up with a disturbing feeling in his guts. Simbi had been instructed to take care of the house for as long as she was gone. She was accustomed to Lust being around the house, but two good-looking brothers in one house? Even the dead couldn't resist the mundane temptations.

It would have been creepy if they were able to see her. But luck was on their side as she watched them sleep all through the night. What Wrath had not prepared for however, was the fact that Lust had become more sensitive towards ghostly presence than ever before.

Lust shuddered as a soft chill went down his spine, causing him to get goosebumps. He rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. No one was there, the blinds were down and there was no sign of sunrise. Pride was sleeping peacefully on his air mattress with half of his comforter off the bed and was laying on his stomach with his mouth open.

Lust walked over to the toilet to start his morning routine. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, his light brown hair was curling at different directions, his jawline seemed sharper, his thin white cotton shirt was crumpled on one side.

"Dashing as always," he said sarcastically in a raspy voice.

Pride managed to stay asleep through the ruckus his brother had made in the room next door. He didn't seem to be bothered as he enveloped his body with his comforter and held on tightly to a pillow. Lust changed into his casual clothes of reebok sweats. A single wet curly strand of hair hung over his forehead. The bathroom was still steamy from his shower. He grabbed a bowl and poured himself some cocoa puffs. Something on the fridge door had stopped him from opening it to reach for some milk.