The Fair Folk

The old ways are dying. We must innovate.

Effie considered the words of her oldest friends as she sat at the neon bar sipping something weak and sugary. She examined the vibrant spaces of the nightclub. The club was some faux-80s dive. The bar was bedazzled in shades of pink and blue that reflected off everyone’s drink glasses. The drinks were all brightly coloured. There were dark corners as well, as you might expect from these kinds of establishments. Dark corners, dark drinks, men with even darker corners in their mind. One such gentleman made his way across the bar to her.

‘Anyone ever tell you that you look like Alyssa Milano?’ he asked with a voice tinged with whiskey.

They had, in fact, told her that before. The age of nostalgia. The names changed every so often. 20 years earlier, it had been Ally Sheady. In the earlier part of the twentieth century, it had been Mae West. The lines didn’t change. She didn’t look particularly like any of these women. Men always see what they want to see. It worked for her purposes. She chuckled coyly and folded her hair behind her ear. For the perceptive, a clear sign of flirting. For her, a cheap manipulation tactic. The rules may have changed but the game was still the same.

The flirting was quick and easy. Soon enough, she had convinced him to go home with her. A quick taxi ride and they were there. A studio apartment. Designed to look lived in but not so distinct that it could be remembered if she failed. Even if her story was brought before the human police, the apartment would be scrubbed and she would move on to the next location. She practically dragged her latest victim, Herman, into the apartment. The whiskey on his breath led him easily to her bed where he collapsed and almost immediately began snoring.

Thank god, she thought, usually they want something before they rest. She sat at the table mirror, shaped from the finest and oldest trees from her homeland. She picked up her trinkets and began humming an ancient tune. The notes began to resonate and the silver of the mirror began to shine. The mirror began to ripple like a pool of perfect water. She turned to face her victim.

‘It is time,’ she said proudly.

He jolted upwards.

‘It is indeed,’ the previously unconscious Herman said.

Herman brandished a taser and shot at her. As the jolts of electricity shocked her, Herman spoke into his wrist.

‘Target is neutralised and portal is active,’ Herman told his wrist.

She faintly heard the sound of her door being busted down and half a dozen men running through the living area of her apartment. Herman stuck some handcuffs on her. Normal handcuffs were no problem for her. Sometimes she had to make her way out of handcuffs. These were different. Ever her magic could not aid her out of these bonds.

‘Evening Effie,’ Herman said, ‘Time for re-introductions. My name is Herman Holt. We’ve been on to your little operation for a few months now. Go to a club, find a schlubb, take him home, then take him back to the Fae realm. You pick your targets well, but you should widen your focus. We’ve been watching you. Posing as revellers and such.’

‘And now you seek to invade our realm with your human police?’ Effie spat back at the thugs.

Herman chuckled at that one.

‘We may be human but we are not the police that you think we are,’ he told her with a flash of his badge. ‘Fairy police, well that’s one name for us. You might also call us the Fae Prevention Force. Fae, pixies, sprites, unseelie. All under our domain. You creatures have gone uncontrolled for too long.’

‘So, you would protect your world by colonising ours?’ she asked him.

‘We are simply agents of a system that demands all things be ordered and lawful. Your chaotic presence disrupts that.’ Herman told her.

Effie watched as these so-called fairy police made their way through her mirror and into the Fae Realm. Effie used the bed and the mirror stand to prop herself up and make her way into the Fae Realm, following those who sought to subjugate it.


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