It started with walking. The blond woman came out of the Twisted Cauldron. She was not much to look at; 5’4“ and maybe 190 lbs, with a kind of plumpness that wasn’t so much muscle as just extra padding. Long frizzy curly blond hair, thick black glasses over watery blue eyes. Anyone looking at her would think her the bookish kind who always stayed in alone rather than go out clubbing of a night, and her wardrobe did not disappoint. Worn brown sneakers, an off-white t-shirt, blue jeans. She even wore a little green beanie, more to keep her hair out of her face than it seemed for warmth. It was already warm out in these nights of late, even when the wind blew in off the lake.
Walking.
She had a little bag from the Cauldron. It was white and it had a thick black pentagram on it, over that was embossed with a glossy screaming pink logo that read: The Twisted Cauldron! Inside was a pack of dragon’s blood incense, a bundle of white sage, a brand new tarot deck and a cloth to read them on, a handful of ‘complementary’ crystals. Everything a budding Wiccan might purchase as a one off from such a store. It wasn’t much of a front, but it was what she had. Just a casual shopper, walking around the city.
Mike had mentioned getting a fake ID and matching his face to it. It was an idea, and she wondered about getting one for herself. But, then she’d need a different car. The Alfa Romero Stelvio, brand new, sleek and black, expensive and still smelling like fresh car and leather and more money than one should sink into a single object… well it was flashy in a way, distinctive. She preferred to walk. She had walked her ass over Chicago for three years, and she missed it.
Her feet make little clomping sounds as she deliberately stepped wrong and she felt her skin crawl hearing it. For years she walked without sound naturally, it was now second nature. The times when she had to force it to the front of her mind and make her feet stomp or drag, it was like nails on a chalkboard to her. Tucker would have been furious…
But she didn’t want to be seen. This face was one she saved for when she wanted to walk around unnoticed. Plump, frizzy haired blond bookworm. She liked this face, this body. It was different from her slightness, her paleness, her chiaroscuro self. In this body, with this mild face and hair kissed by sunlight, she would have little to worry about. She was no longer Madison Breen or Madison O’Rourke, Caitiff Primogen and clouded with troubles.
She was just some girl on the streets.
But tonight this girl on the streets had a purpose. That purpose was in her new green backpack, gently clinking. Usually Vince did this for her but… now…
She walked to Shawn’s Pawn shop, smiled to herself at the words on the window. No, her baby daddy was not in jail and she did not have to post bail, but someone close to her was being threatened and she wanted to prepare. A little extra cash helped at times. She came into the shop and made her way to the back.
It caught her eye almost instantly, there behind a thick locked glass cabinet. It was real, battle-ready and shining. Just the right shape. Twin crescent moon blades like the fullness of the moon at her height… she must have stopped, staring like a Toreador at an art piece like a fool. How long had she stood like that? Fifteen minutes? Madison shook her head and marched up to the pawn broker to make her deals.
Then she walked to the nearest bank and took money out of her account. Like a yo-yo she went back and bought the beautifully perfect twin bladed axe. Labrys, they were called in the Greek. There was a place on her altar for a war goddess, and with loved ones threatened… this was the perfect offering.
When she saw the lines of brass knuckles she thought of her Brujah ‘family’, chuckled, and bought one as well. Might as well if she was worried about punching someone too. Tonight had started with walking, and now it ended with offerings for gods and monsters alike.
Submitted June 14, 2019 at 05:16AM by KiasyddysaiK http://bit.ly/2ILjBAv
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