Humans today use stories about the odd, mysterious, and supernatural as both learning tools and entertainment. Most are content to believe that folklore and myths come from creative minds to explain the unknown, teach the naive, and entertain the masses. This is true to some extent. Creative minds, way before readily available technology like paper or the internet, crafted and spread tales by word of mouth. The only difference is that those ancient, creative humans were attempting to share this information, not for entertainment, but as genuine warnings about who and what lurks in the shadows. These were warnings about those who keep odd hours.

You may be thinking, ‘If humans originally knew that the supernatural was real, why don’t they believe so now?’

It was by design, of course! As humans evolved, so too did the supernatural. Throughout history, humans have developed numerous methods to protect themselves, connect with others, preserve knowledge, and share it. Witnessing these shifts, supernatural beings became wary of the threat humans posed. It became clear that revealing the existence of one type of supernatural being and its weaknesses could expose others. To counteract these changes and protect ourselves, representatives of various supernatural species came together to form the Supernatural Peace Covenant. The Covenant was formed as a peace treaty among supernaturals to prevent war, broker peace, and punish those who broke it. Joining the covenant meant recognizing that humans were a potential threat, mending grudges among supernatural species, concealing their existence, and establishing laws governing interactions between humans and supernaturals.

The Supernatural Peace Covenant, or SPC for short, still thrives today as a secret organization that spans the globe. Most of us supernatural folks blend in with humans, having carved out neighborhoods and small gated communities for each species to call home. We comply with the laws enacted by the SPC to ensure that all things supernatural remain as fictional entertainment in the eyes of humanity.

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“Never have I ever… Taken body shots!” Megan drawled with a shimmer in her eyes. 

I folded the final finger on my raised hands as my eyes scanned my friends to see if anyone else had also taken body shots before. As the rowdy college students we were, that answer had over half of us lose a point. In this drinking game, we took turns listing things we’d never done. If any of us had done what someone else mentioned, we would lose a point and put a finger down. Losing a point means sipping your choice of an alcoholic beverage. But when you’re out, you have to chug it all at once.

“Ooooo- I see you, Juni! That’s ten fingers down! Time to drink!” Rebecca cheered from her seat at the end of the long table to my right.

“Chug, chug, chug!” Our raucous group exploded in the familiar rhythmic chant.

My face split into a not-so-guilty grin that made my cheeks ache as I burst into a fit of giggles. When it came to playing Never Have I Ever, it seemed like I was always the first out. I prided myself on my openness to trying new and exciting things. Never say never, right? I stood, motioning for my friends to quiet down with a patient sweep of my tan, almond-colored arms. Around twenty of us gathered at this bar to celebrate our graduation from a prestigious fine arts university.

“I would like to dedicate this drink, not to my willingness to try everything at least once, but to everyone here with me tonight! Earlier today, we all crossed that stage and snagged ourselves some diplomas. We finally did it! Cheers to The New School’s Class of 2025!” I raised my vodka Red Bull into the air before knocking it back in a few gulps, my hip-length auburn curls swaying at the movement. As I downed the last drop, the room filled with whoops and laughter. 

The party games continued. I watched my friends excitedly chatter about the future, and I felt a pang of sadness. Everything was really over. I’ve been in New York since I was 18. For the last seven years, I’d been attending university, learning the arts, making friends, traveling during breaks, and enjoying my freedom. But now, all that was about to come to an end.

I shook my head to rid myself of those depressing thoughts. Today was a day of celebration. I wouldn’t let worries about my future rain on my parade. Deciding to take a moment to clear my head, I checked on my friends’ drinks before making my way to the bar. The bartender was serving another customer, so I leaned against the bar to wait.

“Can I get you a drink, beautiful?” A man squeezed into my personal space, leaning to speak into my ear so he could be heard over the music playing. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you came in a while ago. I’ve been wondering what I had to do to get those green and gold eyes to look my way.”

An unsettling and cloying sensation abruptly enveloped me, making my skin prickle and the hair across my body stand on end. I cringed away from him with an annoyed grimace. I was sociable, but I typically reserved it for people I knew and was comfortable with. As a pureblood witch, I was particularly gifted at reading people. Well, more like their auras. Seeing someone’s aura required me to focus, but I could feel auras without even thinking about it. It drained me quite a bit when I encountered assholes like him.

“No, thank you. I’m good.” I moved a few steps further down the bar, hoping he would take the hint and kindly fuck off. 

“Oh, come on, babe. Just one drink, I’m sure I can show you a good time.” The lecherous creep draped his arm over my shoulders. 

I willed myself not to use my magic to teach him a lesson. I couldn’t cause a scene. All things supernatural were kept secret from humans for a reason. There were plenty of times like this over the past seven years that tested my ability to maintain my cover as a human. He was annoying, but not irritating enough to break the laws of the Supernatural Peace Covenant. 

“I said no. Fuck off, dude.” I elbowed him roughly in the ribs.

“No need to be such a bitch,” he hissed, releasing me. “Sluts like you always think you’re hot shit.”

I flipped him off as he sauntered away, grumbling obscenities at me. Good riddance, prick. Waving down the bartender, I asked for another round of our orders to be brought out to our table. Before she turned away, I asked her to make me a vodka Red Bull to take with me. Too many things were trying to put a damper on the good mood I had been in all day. 

Negative, complicated, and hostile emotions projected through auras always took a toll on me. Being exposed to those types of auras had repercussions that varied depending on their intensity, proximity, and how long I endured them. The effects ranged from the physical, like headaches and nosebleeds, to psychological, like panic attacks. My temples throbbed lightly. Nothing a stiff drink couldn’t fix.

I headed back to our table and was welcomed with the positive energy radiating from my friends. A sigh of relief left my lips. Their positivity was like a palate cleanser that washed away the bad juju that douchebag’s aura left behind. I wished for these last moments of freedom to last as long as possible. Our lively night of celebration came to an end all too soon. 

Before I knew it, I was on a flight back home to Louisiana from New York. While I had missed my parents, I hadn’t missed the responsibilities awaiting me. By the time I made it home, I would be rushed into completing several tasks that I had been dreading for years. It seemed like fate was reeling me back in.