Much like her fashion, Winter drives one of the most recognizable cars on campus. That doesn’t mean I’m suddenly eager to jump in her car.

  “I don’t know,” I hedge.“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

  “It could be fun,” Wrath says pleadingly. The switch from panicked and surly to wanting to leave the house is abrupt, and I glance skeptically in his direction.

  He makes a face. “Who else is going to drive us?”

  There’s a sinking feeling in my chest, but he’s got a point. It’s not like I would feel any better using the rideshare app Rlyft. From the depths to your doorstep, as the tagline goes.I used it once to get to my last therapist’s office and it was a nerve wracking experience. The driver never acknowledged me, and half the time it looked like he wasn’t even there behind the driver’s seat.When I got out of the car, it seemed to vanish into the early morning mist.

  We head outside as Winter makes a flourish in the direction of her car. The hearse is exactly as I remember it. There aren’t normal parking spots large enough for its extended cab, so she usually parks in a stretch of open space near the Mortuary Sciences department, looking like an advertisement for their amateur services.

  It’s standard black outside, but if you walk past you can see the plush, purple and silver interior that’s been retrofitted by a goth savant with exceptional taste.

  Winter unlocks the doors. “It’s a Kia Eihort, there’s only seven of them on the road today. The factory caught fire right after the test models were released for trial, and they cancelled the fleet before it ever got off the ground. I got it for a song. Almost literally, there was this night in Savannah…”

  “That’s great,” Wrath says snidely. “You’re really into the aesthetic.”

  “Do we need to stop and get you something to unpack your demonic butthole?” she asks sweetly and then continues on, “I could pick you up some Y’Golanoc; I think it’s good for constipation.I’ve been meaning to pick up the latest Serial Killer’s Weekly. This one has an article: ‘5 Omens that he’s into you.’”

  “Winter…” I say warningly.

  Wrath’s mood changes and he lets out a roaring laugh.There’s something unhinged about it, a hint of malevolent energy that makes up his demonic countenance.“You have no fear, tiny human.”

  “I told you, we’re going to be best friends,” Winter says sweetly, not missing a beat.

  I watch with undisguised interest. No one gets Wrath to warm up to them if he’s already decided he doesn’t like them. Then again, this is the first time Wrath has been forced to interact with someone that wasn’t a card-carrying member of Morecroft Manor. A stranger, more or less.

  There’s still an undercurrent of something in Wrath.I can tell he’s aggravated but putting on a show.But it’s still more than that.He looks from me to the car and the part that he’s leaving unsaid is the part I was using this interaction to avoid.

  Deciding whether or not to get into Winter’s car.

  I don’t like riding with people that I know. I don’t like riding with strangers, either, but in some ways that’s almost better. Getting into someone’s car is an invasion into their personal space. It says you’re comfortable in a way that I’m never comfortable.

  “Do you want to see him, or do you want to stay home and mope around the house?” Wrath whispers into my ear. He says it in a way that lacks his normal judgement, as though these are simply two different, but equally acceptable options.

  I know that they’re not, though.I need to get over myself.“Winter, play nice with Wrath.If you’re going to torment him all afternoon, we’re not going to go with you.That’s not a boundary you can cross.”

  She looks over at me for a long moment, and I can see the considering look in her eyes.“Ground rules?Fair enough.No private commentary about me when he knows I can hear him.”

  “I don’t do that,” Wrath mutters.

  “Just because I can’t talk to you in public doesn’t mean I won’t put your doll in one of those industrial washing machines,” she says sweetly.

  Wrath bristles. “Theo…”

  “Don’t start,” I respond at him sharply. “She’s not wrong. You know I don’t like it when you say things I can’t react to, either.”

  Wrath rears back a little, looking at me in shock. “Excuse me?”

  I don’t give him the reaction he’s looking for.I stare him down.“You’re not offended.You know exactly what I’m talking about.Winter can see you, she can hear you. I get that you don’t like it, but it doesn’t seem like there’s anything you can do about it now.So if you want me to go, I don’t want to play mediator between the two of you.”

  I turn to look at Winter.“If you’re okay with driving, that would be really nice.Thank you.”

  Winter smiles enigmatically, but she gestures towards the hearse.“The back seat is very comfy.Luckily I don’t have any passengers with me right now.”

  Wrath and I get into the backseat, which has been converted into an actual backseat, almost like a limousine instead of a body transport. The purple velvet seats are actually far more comfortable than they look from the outside. The interior has a pleasant smell, the burning of fragrant herbs like a welcome invitation.

  The demon turns to look out the window, and I realize he’s giving me the silent treatment.I haven’t seen him get this upset since he kept trying to chase the scarecrow around the property but could never catch him. He swears to this day the scarecrow was cheating. He almost certainly was, but I’m never going to tell him that.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “I can play along and pretend not to hear you all afternoon if that will make you feel better, Wrath,” Winter offers as she pulls out of the Morecroft driveway and navigates us down onto the street leading into Hollow Hills.

  “No, it’s fine,” he says simply, and somehow in this conversation Wrath has switched sides to be friendly with Winter and ignore me.That’s enough of a change that I’m not sure what to do about it.Normally it’s just the two of us.We’re nearly down into town by the time I realize that I’m actually in the car, and not second guessing myself.Most of the time, when I need to get around I either walk or ride my bike. There’s not a lot of need to go any further than that. Groceries and impulse buys can be delivered these days. Almost anything can, really.

  “Care to tell me why you’re so eager to go to Hollowmouth?” I ask her eventually. “I don’t believe you just thought to stop over out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “I need to see a man about about a voodoo Dali.” Winter says, her eyes focused on the road.

  “Don’t you mean a voodoo doll?”

  “No,” she says, frowning, “I said it right the first time. A voodoo Dali. They’re usually so hard to get through customs, but luckily, I know a guy.”

  I can’t help but picture a work of surrealism on canvas with eyes that blink and see and mouths that moan. It feels like the sort of painting that would look the best in natural light, like in the dining hall of Morecroft Manor. Something homey but professional at the same time.

  “Of course you do,” I murmur. Wrath mutters something from next to me. I’m fairly sure he muttered something like “cheap theatrics” but Wrath would never be unfairly judgmental.

  Winter meets my eyes in the rear view mirror. “So I wouldn’t have pictured you as a fan of Grandpa Ghastly.Doesn’t the shtick annoy you?”

  Grandpa Ghastly dresses like a cable access TV version of a vampire, which is about as halloween costume as you can get.A thin black cape, a bit of a cowl, and a pair of badly fitted vampire teeth that he had to abandon after a series root canal back in ’91.

  “Of course not,” I respond immediately.“He had to dress up like that to get people to take him seriously.No one wants a horror movie buff sharing his favorite movies in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.” I pause for a moment.“Well, at least not back then.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not still in the eighties. He could just as easily give it up now. Especially since he’s way past retirement age,” Winter counters.

  Wrath can’t seem to keep himself quiet.“How do you respond when someone asks you to dress normal?”

  To her credit, Winter considers that for a long time before she answers.“That’s a good point.”Her mood brightens, and she smiles into the rear view mirror.“This is why you’re such a good friend, Wrath.Oh,” her eyes widen and she looks away.“I promised not to talk to you.”

  I turn enough to see Wrath’s expression, and it is… confused. Winter is an oubliette that he can’t quite figure out. And I can tell that just as much as he would argue the point, but he’s starting to like her.

  “Anyway,” I interject, “Grandpa Ghastly doesn’t dress up like a vampire out of malice or anything like that.He talked about it once in a livestream.It became his armor, and also the way he met his family.”I snap my mouth closed, realizing I might have said too much.

  “His family,” she says softly.“I like that.”

  Winter navigates us down into Hollow Hills and through the downtown. We pass Mane Street with all the little storefronts: Cult Couture the trendy goth shoppe where Winter probably has a season pass, the Mi-Go Cafe, and Arkham Antiquities where Old Man Dunwich still sits in the window playing chess against an empty chair.

  We pass row after row of Victorian houses, each one pristine and pleasant looking from the street, not a thing like the bulging, towering monstrosity that is Morecroft Manor. Even from here we can see it on top of the valley, glaring down at all the little homes like a predator waiting for the weak to separate from the pack.

  Then finally the road takes us through the other side of the valley, and into the Deadlands.Rolling farmland as far as the eye can see, distant farmhouses barely a mirage in the distance.Winter keeps the windows closed to spite the heat, and the car remains cadaver cold.To my surprise she doesn’t turn the radio on or play any music from her phone, instead just content with the silence.That’s my preference as well.I know Wrath would love to fill it in, but he’s struggling with his request.I glance back at him and see his frown.

  Winter might actually win against him. I reconsider my initial impression of her. She’s far more savvy than I gave her credit for. The ride to Hollowmouth Mall takes a little over half an hour, but as we slow to pull into the mall parking lot, I can already see more cars than usual.

  “That’s a good sign,” I say over my shoulder to Wrath.

  Hollowmouth Mall is a kraken of a storefront, tentacles extending out in multiple directions.From the air it probably looks like spokes extending from a central mass, but the main entrance is a giant glass maw with deep black cavernous fixtures towards the top where the so-called management offices are located.Inside the entrance is an atrium that makes the mall light and airy, and several stories above are the blackened office spaces that hide everything within but allow them to look out.

  Given the size of the Hollowmouth, you might think the parking lot would be at capacity or close.But no, there are maybe a dozen cars already parked, and as Winter pulls in she makes lucky number thirteen.Turns out that indoor malls are no longer the cultural hub that they used to be, but even still, a dozen victims showing up to a Grandpa Ghastly event is big news.

  Winter puts the hearse into park, and the three of us start to climb out of the car.Partway through, Wrath de-corporealizes into his stuffed animal form, which is in the backpack I brought along for this very reason, the head peaking out the top.I sling it over my shoulder and jog over to the other side to meet Winter.

  “Do you know where his event is being held?”

  I shake my head.“Probably somewhere near the entrance, or maybe the food court.There’ll be signs, I think.”

  “Okay, well I have to head over to see a guy about a Dali, but it shouldn’t take me too long.”

  I nod and we walk together towards the entrance.

  “Oh no, the Ghouls are here,” Wrath says from over my shoulder.

  “The Ghouls?”

  I scan the parking lot and see a group of older ladies also making their way towards the entrance. “They’re Ghastly fans. A group of older ladies from the nearby assisted living facility. Every time he has a public event, they show up and…” I trail off, unsure how to explain it.

  “They act like teenagers meeting their favorite boyband,” Wrath continues with a lip curl.

  Case in point, the ladies are halfway to goth themselves.Black tee shirts with Grandpa Ghastly emblazoned across the front, smokey eye makeup underneath their bedazzled black eyeglasses.One woman even has a walker that she uses to get around, and she has the entire thing covered in black ostrich feathers.

  “Oh my,” Winter says.

  “Welcome to your future,” Wrath says to her with some measure of warmth and amusement.

  The look Winter tosses over her shoulder at the two of us is less than amused.

  We continue forward, but the Ghouls see us walking in and hasten their steps as though it’s suddenly a competition who gets inside first. Even the grandmotherly figure in the walker goes double time, and in reaction I start to slow down a little. I don’t want them to feel like we’re racing them, and Winter seems to feel the same way. We take our time until we get up to the front sidewalk, and Winter has us stop at one of the benches so that she can “get the rock out of my shoe.” The shoes, today, are platform, laced up things of beauty that go as far to nearly her knees.

  Eventually the Ghouls disappear inside, and the coast is clear. We head into the maul.