Pentagram
[ˈpen(t)əˌɡram]
Noun
a five-pointed star that is formed by drawing a continuous line in five segments, often used as a mystic and magical symbol
Keir stepped out of his car and locked it, warily looking up at Nyx’s home. It looked like a cute Victorian doll house, but instead of being painted a pastel color, it was grey with black trim. Even the wrap around porch railing was black. English Ivy crawled up the side, the hearty plant thriving despite the cold weather.
It would have been creepy, but warm, yellow light spilled out of the windows and he could feel the bass of the music from out here. The door was ajar, drunken people milling in and out as they pleased. Parties were never really Keir’s scene, but he figured he could dig up some information about Nyx while he was here. He walked toward the door and stepping into the warm threshold gratefully. The temperature had only continued to drop as the sun went down, now it was nearing freezing.
Buzzed teenagers were everywhere, all sporting red plastic cups, the liquid sloshing as they danced and socialized. Keir beelined for the kitchen, avoiding the sweaty bodies as much as possible. He certainly was not drunk, which made grinding against strangers no fun.
The kitchen seemed quieter than the rest of the floor, with only a few groups of people chatting amongst themselves. Keir poured himself a cup of the punch that was undoubtedly spiked. He gave it a small sip, nose scrunching up at the bitter taste. He supposed it wasn’t meant to taste good as it was to get someone buzzed. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself, he didn’t know anyone. So, he settled for leaning against the black marble counter, playing on his phone.
This went well for about twenty minutes until a hand landed on his shoulder. Even through his sweater he could feel the unnatural cold of the hand seeping into his skin, sending a small shiver through his body. A manly yelp spilled from his lips as he whirled around to look at the person. He wasn’t at all surprised to face Nyx.
“Did I spook ya?” He chuckled, words slurring in a way that Keir knew he was at least tipsy. He felt his cheeks warm. “What’re you doing hiding in here?”
He shrugged a bit, looking away from his piercing blue eyes. “I dunno. I just don’t really know anyone.”
“Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Suddenly Nyx had his hand latched around his wrist and was pulling him out of the kitchen. His hand was cold as ice, and it felt like Nyx was sucking the warmth out of him. “You’re so cute, they’ll just eat you alive!” He gushed.
Keir really hoped that Nyx meant that they’ll eat him up, though that didn’t sound much better.
He was dragged to a cluster of beanbags in the far corner of the living room. Three were occupied by people, leaving one left. Nyx pushed him into the empty one, then plopped himself down next to the brunette. Keir found himself blushing, but also trying to scoot away from Nyx. The guy was like a heat leech.
“Guys, this is Keir. Keir this is Ashlyn, Kyle, and Cody.” Nyx introduced, gesturing to each person. Keir smiled and waved nervously to the group.
“Oh, you’re the new guy!” The one named Cody looked him over curiously. “Where are you from dude?”
“Florida.” He shrugged a bit, taking a big gulp of his drink.
“Wow.” Kyle gazed at him with a dazed expression, and Keir wondered if he was high. “It's so warm there.”
Keir laughed nervously. “Yeah, it's pretty warm there.”
“Why would you live here? This town is so boring."
"M-my parents just thought it'd be a good change."
"Some wack."
The topic changed after that, and Keir gratefully faded into the background. “Hey, where’s the bathroom?” Keir whispered to Nyx.
“Upstairs, first on the left.”
Keir made his way up the stairs, the music from downstairs dimming considerably. It seemed deserted. He completely passed the bathroom, instead heading down the hall. The lights were dim, leaving a creepy feeling trickling down his spine as he padded around quietly. Most of the doors were shut, besides one. He glanced in, brown eyes widening as he took in what seemed to be a study. He stepped inside, flipping a switch that turned on a small desk lamp next to the door. A bookcase covered the wall to his left, most of the books were leather bound with calligraphy written down the spines in languages that he didn’t quite know. To his right were shelves holding jars of all shapes and sizes, filled with different powders and things. The floor was open, a large pentagram painted against the wood, much like the one Keir wore as a necklace under his shirt. He sucked in a breath. What were the chances of his family moving into such a small town with other witches?
“What are you doing?” A voice rang out, filling him with dread.
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