Page 7 of How to Seduce a Slender

Smith squinted at the sparkling potions in thought before glancing up at Hazel in question. “What are the signs?”

“Uh, seeing ghosts of the past, talking to themselves, random spats of uncontrollable anger or deep pits of despair, hearing voices, getting lost in their own head or physically for long periods of time, you know…abnormal stuff.”

Smith had to choke back a laugh.So…regular stuff for the staff of Rosemont Manor. Great!

“Thank you, Ms. Brown. That will help.”

Hazel beamed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Anything for my favorite glow stick.”

Smith groaned internally but said nothing as the bedroom door cracked open behind him. He turned to face Serias. A wild-maned, flower-covered, pointy-eared nymph with a massive, shit-eating grin on her lips sauntered out. She winked at him. “Dollface in there is all patched up. Hazel probably gave you the run down, but lots of fluids, three solid meals a day, lots of rest…and please, keep an eye on her. If anything returns or gets worse, it could mean that the bite was just a cover for something much worse.”

“Thank you, Miss…” He bowed his head as he realized…he didn’t know if Serias had a last name. Much like himself, she wasjustSerias as far as he could tell.

Smith had a name once…but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. Hundreds of years in the material realm will do that to a Slender.

“You’re welcome. Alright, you busy bodies, let’s get a move on. I need you working on that memory potion stat, fluffbutt. And birdman, me and you are on retrace her steps duty. Chop-chop!”

“Wait a minute, who here is the Lord Commander?”

Smith’s eyebrow muscles shot up on his face as he heard the first jovial tone from the large, black feathered man that day. There was a playful twist to his face. Then Hazel nudged him with her elbow, whispering into his ear. Aravis broke out into red and immediately took both women by the bicep and marched them down the stairs hastily.

And Smith was alone once more, peering through the cracked doorway into his room…well Melody’s room. He didn’tneeda room. He had an office. And Slender didn’t need sleep. It was a luxury to dream, one that creatures like him didn’t have. So, he often didn’t partake in it. When he needed rest or recuperation, the means for recharging his ‘batteries’ were less…cute.

He tiptoed into the room, finding the candle blown out and his waitress unconscious. There was no sound as he crept across floorboards that usually tattled on people. Smith hovered over her. Melody was draped across the mattress like a damp sheet that was tossed aside. One arm under her pillow where her fingertips brushed the headboard, the other curled around another pillow that pressed into her chest. Her sweet, round face and button nose were angled toward him. He could see her eye movement in her sleep.

It took all his will power not to slip inside. To slither between her eyelids and drown in her dreams.What would they look like? Did she dream of me?Drool built in his mouth as Smith realized how long it had been since he fed.Trulyfed. Sank his teeth in and slurped up the dreams of an unsuspecting person. His stomach growled and Smith ripped away.

No!

Melody Deathless’ dreams were not for him. Smith swore a long time ago not to feast on mortals…never again.

Chapter Three:

Melody

Melodyslowlywokeupfrom her jumbled dreams once more. Her mind was finally her own once more. She remembered why she always had such trouble getting to sleep. Her fucking dreams—nightmares, really. Because what healthy person had dreams like a drunken tilt-a-whirl on the fritz. Sparks, fire, screams, an orange sky, cackling witches, and then there were regular parts, a bird’s eye view of people just living their lives. She could never make sense of it. She often avoided sleep when she could for as long as she could handle. The last thing she wanted was to wake up groggy when she went to bed exhausted.

To her benefit, however, she awoke that morning in the best condition!Minus her scrambled mind. Her body was fully rested, not an inch sore or bruised. Her hair was even fluffier. Melody stretched her arms above her head. Her bones cracked deliciously loud before she popped her legs out from the hefty duvet. A brush of frozen air made all the hair on her arms stand on end, but it was a delight as she stood up.Shame about the jeans though.She glanced down at her ratty clothes, crumpled from one hell of a sleep.

“Ah! Good, Ms. Deathless, you’re awake!”

Melody lurched, claws half out of her fingertips like an awkward flamingo with a leg in the air and body frozen in time. Then, slowly, she pivoted to meet the new face in her room. A beautiful woman in wispy silver floated in front of the bedroom door. Long tresses of hair bobbed over her head, complexion a ghostly, translucent color, and an elegant gray dress with a high collar that faded away at the bottom…a ghost? Mostly a ghost? Somewhat a ghost? Melody eyeballed her with extreme curiosity as she straightened up.

“Am I?” Melody squawked.

“You are! Hello! I am Agatha. Smith has told mesooomuch about you.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as she soared across the room. Melody flapped her mouth open and shut uselessly as Agatha led her away from the bed toward a massive wardrobe against the wall. “But I’d love to know what you want to wear.”

“What I want to? Oh…yeah, I mean, my jeans are a little dusty. Probably need a spit shine and they’ll be fine.” Melody plucked at her jeans delicately with her fingertips. She’d tucked away her claws.One of the few things I still have.Melody glanced up from her work jeans to the elegant specter before her. “We got a washing machine here I can toss them in? I can just hang out in sweats or something till they’re clean.”

Agatha, if it were possible, paled to a sheet white. “Swe-swe-sweats? Like…” she shuddered. “Sweatpants?”

“Or, like…jammies?” Melody flinched, not wanting to upset the pretty lady floating in front of her. “I got some jammies back at my place but I, kinda…you know,” she licked her lips nervously, “didn’t get a chance to bring ‘em.”

Agatha sputtered, “What? Absolutely not, I won’t have you dressed in anything less than glamor. So, what colors do you like? Pink? Green? Vermillion?”

Melody flushed as she realized all three of those words were colors, but she only knew two of them. Agatha immediately tugged the wardrobe open.Context clues only get one so far.The longer Melody stood there, scratching her head for what the fuck vermillion might even look like, the more Agatha poked around.

“What about red? Huh? You look like an autumn color pallet. Lady Rosemont is more of a winter color pallet, if she wears anything other than black. But you? Oh, your skin’s got some olive in it and look at those cheeks. I bet you pull off ruby like a queen, huh?”

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