1:23 PM

  After Saffron finished jotting down factoids, the light coming into her window shifted. Pale orange light gave way to staunch crimson, then to a dim maroon. She had a perfect view from her couch, peering through the window and into the red sky. A distinct image of a red moon fell upon the sky, like an image from a projector. The Blood Moon was here, and in full swing. With a huff, Saffron hops up from her old green couch, now brown in the new light. She sauntered into the kitchen, closing the blinds and knocking out the lights. Then she circled to the front door, lodging a chair underneath the knob. Finally, she turned her attention to the last window in the living room, the one with the A/C nestled in the windowsill...

  When the fuck did I get a new A/C? Saffron thinks, staring at the unit perched in her window. Her old unit got trashed a month ago. Some skin walker was chasing a poor soul, and shoulder-checked her A/C unit, crumpling it like a tin can.

  Taking slow deliberate steps, she moved backwards. Retrieving her old A/C’s remote, she gave it a quick once-over. It was a General Eclectic. She looked back at the A/C currently whirring in her window. FrigiDare. It sure as shit wasn't there when she left earlier today. Saffron stares at the white plastic, now back lit with an otherworldly red glow from outside. It looks like a normal air conditioner. Makes noise like an air conditioner. Hell, she can even feel a cool breeze coming from the thing. But it's just not right. She should have noticed if a new unit got installed. She should have known if something made it's way into her apartment.

  Her door was unlocked, for who knows how long. Mimics are known to run into unguarded homes like cockroaches, just to lie in wait as furniture, or appliances. It could be a mimic. It probably was a mimic. Her hairs are standing on end by now, Mind reeling with anxiety, she steps back into the kitchen. Her fingers grasped at her phone, hoping to find some remedy or repellent. Something. But the only solution she could find was extermination. And the best weapon she had was a kitchen knife. Hands shaking, she withdrew the knife from the block. A vibration from her phone made her jump far more than she’d like to admit. It was her landlord.

  “I came by at 12:30 and replaced your A/C. There’s no remote, so you gotta walk up and change it manually.”

  Cheap bitch. She thought as she slid the knife back into it’s wooden block, all psyched up over nothing. Saffron cautiously walked over to the window to close the blinds. Through the glass, and the red glow coming in, she could see a silhouette staring back at her. It was human, an older lady with a hunched back wearing a gray blouse and jeans. The same woman from the supermarket. It was human, because no human can live without the top of her skull. From the ridge of her brow upwards, there was nothing on her head. No hair, skin, bone or brain matter. Her head was hollow, the inside of the remaining skull was a deep basin of blackness. Their eyes were jet black, even through the sanguine red filter the Blood Moon ushered in. The two stared at each other for a few dreadful seconds. The elder broke the silence first, her voice dulled by the pane of glass in between them.

  "Gun to ya head, spit a Birdman verse."

  Saffron gave the woman a tactful nod, before closing the blinds. She was only able to take two steps back before her A/C unit flew out from the window, slamming into her chest. She crashed into the wall behind her, making a new Saffron-sized hole in the wall of her living room and landing on her ass in the dining room. Wheezing, Saffron looked through her involuntary open floor plan, seeing the old timer crouch through the now vacant window. The elder piped up again.

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  "The gun was metaphorical. But your life being on the line, is real." The hag pulled the plastic grill of the air conditioner off of her foot, throwing it on the couch.

  "Who the fuck has Birdman verses on standby?" Saff said, shaking bits of drywall out of her hair.

  "Clearly not you girlie. Now gun to ya head..."

  Saffron made a beeline for her front door, running through her apartment. She kicked the chair out of the way and sprinted out of her apartment, and could see the old timer slowly stepping back through the open window to get to her. Running barefoot, Saffron didn't look back. She reached the stairwell, skidding down the stairs like a runaway tire. From the fifth floor to the fourth, round and round she descended. By the time she got to the second floor, a gray and red blur fell straight through the middle of the steps, landing with a resounding thud. She rounded the last corner, with only one more flight of stairs to go. But the hag was already at the bottom, a small crater in the concrete floor marking where she landed. Her black eyes bored into her, gleaming with malice.

  "Gun to ya head, name me three Brandon Sanderson books. I'll wait." The crone said loud and clear, her hoarse voice echoing in the hollow stairwell.

  "Uhh... Mistborn: The Final Empire... The Way of Kings... And uhh... Fuck gimme a minute..." Saffron ran her hand across her chin, stroking an imaginary beard. She grumbled to herself for a minute or so, and the hollow simply waited for her answer. "Mistborn 2? Does that count-" A wrinkly knuckle slammed into Saffron's nose like a sledgehammer. A loud crack filled Saffron's ears, and blood dripped out of her nostrils like a leaky faucet.

  "Oh come on! That's a good enough answer!" Saffron shouted, clutching her nose.

  "The answer you were looking for was 'The Well of Ascension'." The woman said with a bony grin. "Do you think that's a good enough answer for the Trivia Witch?"

  "...Trivia Witch?" That is the dumbest fucking name I've ever heard. Saffron thought. "Is this your whole deal? Asking dumb questions, and beating the shit out of people when don't give the correct answer?"

  "That's only half true. But since I'm feeling generous, I'll give you full points." With those words, a large gash manifested on the Witch's shoulder, tearing a hunk of black flesh and blood away from her bones. "That's the only question you're going to answer correctly. Now gun to ya head, name the 28th president of the United States of America."

  "John D. Rockefeller. Waged war like running a business." Saffron said confidently.

  The hag let out an annoyed grunt, another deeper wound manifesting on her shoulder, cleanly lopping her bony arm off. A small puddle of black blood was now at her feet. "You actually got that correct? I didn't even know that one..."

  "What do you mean you didn't know? How the fuck are you asking these questions without knowing the answer?"

  "I don't have a brain, dumbass." The older woman knocked on her skull, letting the hollowness ring out. "The black blood knows all. I say 'gun to ya head' and ask a question, and if you don't answer correctly, I am made privy to the answer. If you answer correctly, I have to pay the price."

  "... So you're telling me... That you have an all knowing goop in you. That can determine if anyone gives a correct or incorrect answer to a question. A said goop will give you the answer if they are wrong?" Saffron said, wiping her nose.

  "That Is correct."

  "Then why the fuck are you here, toying with me? You can make absurd amounts of money just working for the police or some shit."

  "Huh. I never thought of that... Why the am I here?" The old lady simply turned around, and left the stairwell.