Things In Jars

After her great-aunt's death, Melanie Grosvenor is called back to the place she hoped she left behind her for good. The small, sleepy town of Waken is not all that it seems behind the idyllic appearance. Scandals lurk like bad breath, threatening to draw Melanie into their folds.

But there are much darker things at play.

With her reappearance, the town is thrown into gossip chaos, but it is soon forgotten in light of strange deaths and disappearances. Waken is torn between grief and fear, and Melanie finds herself discovering a family secret and a legacy she doesn't understand.

"May you all heed the town's infamous saying; never go outside in the fog."

“We will take them,” she hissed. “One by one, we will filter them out and exterminate them.”

Wrath spoke; as always she was on top of such matters. “During your rest, lady, we have been at work. We have lured the Grosvenor brat back –” a sharp hissing sound filled the room, it’s source impossible to locate. “– and we have infiltrated her unsteady circle of friends and allies. If she truly is the descendant of Rajani’s family, she certainly isn’t acting like it.”

Naz – Pride – looked bored with the entire conversation. Her black eyes trailed lazily around the ancient room as though she rolled them in an extremely slow motion.

“Perhaps,” the Lovers injected. “She is unused to her role. She has never had to use her talents, as far as we know. Our takeover will be made much easier this way.”

Angerona waited silently and expressionless as each of her disciples, with the exception of two, voiced their opinions. She pictured herself as a dried sponge, pulled from the long forgotten storage closet of a deceased relative. Not a romantic picture, to be sure, even in her own perverse view of what romantic should (or even could) be. But this sponge soaked up their information like water dribbled into her open pores. It fed her like blood. And when she was full (and their opinions became more like arguments and opportunities to tear stale flesh) she held one pale hand in front of her; the room did not fall silent, it was cut into silence.

“The mole?”

Greed jerked his head in the direction of the Lovers. “They took of her. She reports to Loki on a regular basis. There are no developments as of yet. You need not worry at all, Your Grace; we have her covered on all sides. She will be destroyed before she has a chance to breathe your air.”

Instead of the smile they expected to see, Angerona openly frowned. “Begin the slaughter tonight,” she said, and walked away.