1. The Changeling Baby


    Date: 1/1/2016, Categories: Supernatural, Author: TamLin, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    imagine he heard the statues talking. It scared the shit out of him. His mother convinced him he was just hearing echoes, and he guessed she was right. But even now they gave him the willies. She led him to a garden on a side path. It was a simple, pretty little space, mostly used for weddings. A bust of Shakespeare sat at one end and a few plaques with quotes from plays decorated the walls. It was too dark to read them, but Nissa seemed to know the quotations by heart, and she whispered the words to him as they stood side by side, going from each to each. He didn't really understand what the lines meant, but the feeling of Nissa’s warm breath on his cheek was pleasant. She read the last one twice: "As imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name." William did not understand, but he understood that Nissa was standing very, very close to him, and even though it was almost pitch black now and he could not see her face he knew all he would have to do is lean forward a few inches and her lips would be touching his… "What happened to you today, William?" Nissa said. William blinked, and the spell of the moment was broken. He shuffled his feet and looked away, letting go of her hand. "What do you mean?" he said. "I asked before if you were okay and you said no. And you looked scared when I ran into you. So I thought something might be wrong." William scratched the back of his ...
    head, wondering what to say. He could not—would not—lie to Nissa, but he couldn’t very well tell her the truth either, about the baby and the monster and whatever other crazy things were going on. He felt dizzy and disoriented. Why had she brought him here? He'd thought for a second he knew why, thought it might even be the amazing, exhilarating reason he dared to dream about in quiet, private moments in his bed, late at night. But now he wasn't sure. "Have you ever had a day where you weren't sure what was really happening?" he said. "All the time. I call those weekdays. Also, weekends." He wasn’t sure if she was making fun of him. In the dark, her face was a big black spot, impossible to read. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all? In fact, what was he even doing out here? It was the middle of the night, and his parents would be worried sick. "William?" Nissa said, "Do you ever—" "I have to go," he said, backing away. For a second he thought he felt her fingertips brush his, as if she'd reached for his hand in the moment he started to leave. "You do?" "Yeah. It's late. My mom and dad will be looking for me." "Okay," she said. Her tone was, as usual, impossible to decipher. "Do you think—?" But he was already gone. He didn’t run this time. He’d lived long enough to know that no matter how fast you run, you can never get away from yourself. *** It was late. William was in bed, thinking. The lamp was on and he was supposed to be reading, but the book lay open on his lap, ...
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