Chapter Text
It was another sunny day in Hatchetfield, Michigan. Birds were chirping, flowers were blooming, the sky couldn’t have been more blue. Inside a little known eighties themed diner aptly named Miss Retro’s, which was situated at the edge of the Witchwood Forest, was Miss Holloway, the owner of the restaurant, working up a sweat as she wiped down the front counter.
Her waitress, Brenda, was staring at her with a certain look in her eyes, one of concern and impression. “Hey, uh, Miss Holloway, haven’t you been here since six in the morning? It’s almost sundown, shouldn’t you be home by now?”
“I could be asking you the same question, Brenda, since your shift technically ended an hour ago.” Miss Holloway replied with a smirk on her face, only looking up at the teenager when she finally got that one spot she had been scrubbing for several minutes now.
“I know but, it’s not fair that you have to work such long hours,” Brenda argued, putting her hands on her hips. "And I don’t even have full shifts most of the time!”
“That’s because I only pay you for part time work, honey.” Miss Holloway smiled at her sweetly as she put the rag she was using to clean the countertops to the side. She swiftly stepped into the kitchen with the grace of an angel, Brenda following closely behind.
“But… you deserve to have a life!” She called after her boss, stopping in the doorway to see her washing her hands. “Not to have to be holed up in this…”
Brenda’s mouth shut tightly as she watched Miss Holloway glance towards her, turning off the sink with a fiercely stern look in her eyes. It was almost as if she knew Brenda was going to call Miss Retro’s a ‘dump’, or a ‘shithole’.
“Sorry Miss Holloway.” She sighed, softening her posture. “I just want you to have a chance to relax and enjoy yourself sometimes.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, this diner is my life.” Miss Holloway reassured her with a knowing smile, stepping closer. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, either. Don’t worry about me, the work I do here is fulfilling enough for four vacations at least, maybe five.”
Brenda shook her head, thinking. “I just wish we had more employees, more people to take on some of the responsibility. Hey, what happened to that Danny kid that applied? Wasn’t his first shift supposed to be today?”
“Ah yes, Danny.” Miss Holloway sighed as she moved past Brenda and into her office, which was more like a storage closet than anything. She picked up a clipboard from the wall, looking at the schedule. “He called in sick today, said he got ‘totally baked with his friends’ last night. I sure hope those cookies didn’t give him food poisoning.”
Brenda’s eyes widened as she realized, “Miss Holloway, he was smoking weed! He got too stoned to come into work!” She groaned in frustration, crossing her arms as she frowned, “Dammit, that bastard!”
“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to apply?” Miss Holloway suggested as she put the clipboard back in its spot. “How about Stacy, or that girl from church, Grace Chasity?”
Brenda scoffed, rolling her eyes as her lips curled upward in a smirk. “Please, Miss Holloway, Grace Chastity is not my friend.”
Miss Holloway tilted her head, a small smile of her own forming. “I thought she was dating Max Jagerman now?”
“Yeah, she might be, but that still doesn’t mean I have to like her!” Brenda sighed. “Look, she’s not as much of a nerdy prude as she has been for like, our whole lives, but she’s still stuck up and rude! God I just…” She trailed off, glancing downward, “don’t know what he sees in her.”
Miss Holloway looked at her with understanding, and sympathy. “You still have a few feelings for him, don’t you?”
Brenda bit her lip as she looked back at her boss, cursing her apparent ability to read minds. “With Steph, it was one thing. Steph and I are friends, and Steph is gorgeous, obviously, so I didn’t care that much, it didn’t matter to me. But her? Little miss, genocidal dictator in the making?”
She let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I just don’t get it, and I never will.”
Miss Holloway nodded knowingly. “And you know what? That’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with not getting it.” She stepped forward, putting a soft hand on Brenda’s shoulder. “Just make sure that your lack of understanding doesn’t cloud your judgement, or your kindness.”
Brenda nodded, cheeks turning a deep red, “Of course, Miss Holloway.”
Right at that moment the front door opened, the door chime ringing lightly. The two of them looked towards the saloon doors to the restaurant, then back at each other. Miss Holloway smiled at her waitress warmly. “Go home, Brenda, I got this.”
Brenda nodded, moving towards the office to gather her stuff and exit through the back, while Miss Holloway stepped through the main doors to greet the new customer. “Hey there! What can I getcha?”
“I’d like a slice of your finest cherry pie, pretty please.” The woman who approached her replied, leaning against the front counter with her arm.
The first thing Miss Holloway noticed about this woman was her voice. It was melodic but commanding, loud and clear like the first note of a song. The next thing she noticed was her eyes. They were a bright, vibrant violet, irises almost glowing in the light. The last thing she noticed was her scent. It was a musky, earthy smell, one that reminded Miss Holloway of farmland. She was smiling at Miss Holloway, a wide, hungry grin.
Miss Holloway’s breath almost got caught in her throat as it hitched. Her chest tightened, and her heart started to hammer in her chest. But she regained her composure quickly, flashing that award winning smile of hers. “Coming right up!” She said before hurriedly stepping in the back.
Inside her office she was panicking, her hands shaking as she punched in the code to the safe. Opening it revealed envelopes stuffed with cash, typical for a restaurant’s money safe. But it also held something much more valuable, and much more dangerous.
She let out a sigh of relief, one she wasn’t expecting to let out, as she caught sight of the Black Book, still in its rightful place. She contemplated changing the combination to the safe just in case, but it would take too long. She was keeping her ‘customer’ waiting as it was. She closed the safe before getting up and quickly washing her hands.
She stepped out into the restaurant with a smile still on her face, briskly walking over to the pie rack and pulling out a hot and fresh, delicious looking cherry pie. She carved out a slice, putting it on a plate with careful skill before topping it with homemade whipped cream.
She could feel the woman watching her with the eyes of a predator, she could sense her desire from where she was standing across the counter. Her sweet, sultry voice rang out, asking genuinely, “What did you go in the back for?”
Miss Holloway looked at her as she picked up the plate, forcing her smile to stay on her face, “Just washing my hands.”
The woman blinked at her, as if she knew it was only a half truth. “Uh huh, right.” Her eyes bored into Miss Holloway, reading her like an open book, which was usually a very hard thing to do. The fact that a stranger could do it made her skin crawl.
“Here you are, my finest slice of cherry pie.” Miss Holloway put the plate and a fork in front of her customer with a confident smile, putting her hands on her hips as she forced the lump of anxiety in her throat deep deep down. “Is there anything else I can get yah? Coffee? Tea?"
The woman looked down at the plate, picking up the fork and dissecting her slice of pie. She picked at it for a moment, playing with it almost. "No... no, I want something that's…” She paused, seemingly for dramatic effect, “not on the menu."
That lump in Miss Holloway’s throat started to throb as she heard those words. Her smile faded, and her hands drifted behind her back as they started to shake, "I'm terribly sorry but… that item's not for sale."
“I never said I wanted an item.” The woman said as she looked back up at Miss Holloway, as if it was obvious what she meant. But it wasn’t, as Miss Holloway’s brows furrowed in confusion, "I'm sorry, what?"
“You heard me.” The woman replied, batting her eyelashes. “I want you, Holloway."
There was a dim, seductive look in her eyes, one that only Duke Keane would look at Miss Holloway with when they caught themselves in the dark, alone together, skin touching and lips grazing.
A twisted, sickening feeling started to swirl in her stomach, and she could feel the sweat forming on her brow. She gulped, "Excuse me, I- I have to get going."
She made a break for the exit, quickly stepping from behind the counter and breaking into a run. She almost got to the door, before the woman grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards her, "You're not going anywhere, little deer.”
Holloway struggled, but the woman was too strong as she grabbed her other arm, forcing her to face her. That hunger, that desire in her eyes had ignited like a fire, the light making them almost look alive. Her grin had grown and twisted, her teeth razor sharp. A shiver went down Miss Holloway’s spine.
“I know you know what I am,” The woman told her, “what I've been touched by. But I also know what you've been touched by.”
Holloway's breath caught in her throat again, anxious electricity coursing through her body. The synapses in her brain were firing violently, urgently, begging her to do something, anything. But she was stuck, frozen, under the burning gaze of someone she didn’t understand, and it scared her to death.
“Now that bright, white light has yet to reach me,” The woman continued, “unless I experience it for myself.” She moved her hands from Holloway’s upper arms to her wrists, forcing them together with one hand as she placed her other hand on Holloway’s face, cupping her cheek and stroking her skin with her thumb. “Unless I touch it for myself.”
Holloway gasped as the woman’s touch sent electric shocks through her nerves. Her fingers were smooth and cool, it was almost like touching the snake in the Garden of Eden. And Holloway knew exactly what that meant, just like what her eyes, and her voice, and her scent, and her smile meant. She had to get away, and now.
Taking a deep breath, she used all her strength and all her force to wrench her wrists out of the woman’s hand, pushing her out of the way with her body. As the woman stumbled to the ground, Holloway took this moment of surprise to make a run for the doors, bursting through them straight towards her Nineteen Eighty-Seven Pontiac Firebird in the parking lot.
But as she got closer, her stomach dropped as she realized that all her tires had been slashed. She looked back to see the woman encroaching on her, the Black Book in hand. There was a smug, knowing smirk on her face as she opened her mouth to say, “Run little deer, run.”
Holloway’s breath hitched as her eyes widened, taking the advice as her legs burst into a frightened run towards the Witchwood. Her white tennis shoes hit the forest floor hard, her light, rushed footsteps crunching the sticks and leaves underneath.
The setting sun shone through the canopy of leaves, casting shadows on Holloway as she raced through the woods, her breathing so heavy and labored that her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her legs were starting to ache, her muscles threatening to give out. But she was almost to the trailer park, she was so close to getting some help.
Those hopes and dreams were crushed devastatingly as a loose tree root, seemingly coming from out of nowhere, wrapped around Holloway’s leg and pulled her to the ground. She landed with a hard thud, a grunt escaping her lips as she felt her chin being scraped on a rock.
She took a few moments to catch her breath before looking up to see the woman standing before her, that knowing smirk still on her face. She knelt down to Holloway’s level on the floor, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up to look at her. “Awe, poor thing, you scraped your chin! Here, let me get that.”
She then pulled out a handkerchief and a small bottle of liquid, opening the bottle and soaking the cloth in the liquid. Holloway’s breath hitched as her eyes widened; she could smell the chloroform from where she was laying.
As soon as the woman moved her hand to place the cloth on her face, Holloway did her best to scramble to her feet and make her getaway. But the root held her leg too tightly, and she was caught by the woman before she had the chance to fall to the ground again.
“Shh shh shh, it’s alright, don’t fight it.” The woman said as she pulled Holloway close, one hand keeping her arms at her sides and the other hand covering her nose and mouth with the chloroformed soaked cloth. “Just take deep breaths for me, just breathe it in.”
Holloway put in all her physical and mental energy to fight, and struggle, and squirm. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the cloth. It was getting harder to breathe, the scent of the chloroform filling her nose and lungs. It was already making her feel so lightheaded, every breath in making her feel fuzzier, every breath out making her more tired.
“There we go, that’s it, just relax…” The woman cooed in her ear as she felt her muscles loosen involuntarily, almost as if they were following her words and not Holloway’s own mind. She took a deep, full breath in, her legs starting to wobble and shake. Her head was so foggy and heavy, she could feel herself falling into that chemically induced sleep as her eyes started to flutter and roll to the back of her head.
Her body couldn’t help but crumple as the chloroform finally overtook her, falling unconscious in the woman’s arms, completely at her mercy.