李杏 | Frances J., a lion-hearted girl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
perfectworry) wrote2012-10-31 10:46 pm
perfectworry) wrote2012-10-31 10:46 pm
[shared 'verse: cactus flower] Haunting at the Cactus Flower Saloon
title: Haunting at the Cactus Flower Saloon
verse: Cactus Flower
community:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writerverse
prompt: Phase #4: Challenge #23: Things That Go Bump in The Night
word count: 1.501
characters: Mariel, Kristopher, Ian Grigori (Ely Phiron)
rating: PG
summary: In which Ian Girgori tells the story of Ely Phiron and the land on which the Cactus Flower Saloon now stands…
notes: Happy Halloween!
"Have you ever heard the story of Ely Phiron?" asked Ian Grigori. The flickering campfire flames lit his face with an eery light. Shadows played across his handsome features and reflected in his dark eyes.
"Nope," drawled Mariel. She sat opposite Ian. She leaned back on her good arm, the other still bound up in a sling. Aya Scarlett sat close by with her chin resting on her knees.
"Ooh!" cooed Kristopher, sitting to Mariel's left, half in and half out of his father's lap. "Yes!" His blue eyes widened with excitement to hear the story again; it was a town tradition. Nikos had found an excuse to stay behind at the empty saloon, which happened every year for so long it was almost a tradition in and of itself.
"Mr. Grigori does it best," Kristopher explained to Mariel earlier that day while she served him a soda. He was worn out from a busy afternoon of carving his perfect pumpkin. Glory had come in for something stronger than a soda.
"Well," said Ian, settling into the story. His wife clung to his arm, watching him attentively.
"Some say that Ely Phiron was half-demon on his mother's side. Satan's granddaughter, to hear it told, although she was as sweet a woman as any except for her eyes. They say she had red eyes."
Ian paused to let this sink in.
"Whatever Phiron was - human, demon, or Lord only knows what else - he was strong and he was fast. He never lost a draw and he started a whole lot of fights. As a boy, little Ely's schoolmates shunned him. As a man, other men gave Mr. Phiron a wide berth. He had the whole town afraid of steppin' on his shor'boots when I was a little 'un."
Grigori's accent thickened as he went on, until his speech was nearly incomprehensible to Mariel, with her clipped East Coast consonants. Beside her, Aya shivered with fearful, excited anticipation. Everyone, it seemed, knew the story. Except Mariel, the outsider. She had allowed Aya to lead her down to the campfire on the edge of town; still in view of the buildings, but far enough away that the light spilling through cracks in curtains wouldn't spoil the atmosphere of a scary story.
"He had lots of money, Ely Phiron, but ain't nobody knew where he come by it. I*f he had a human daddy, he ran off and poor Elizabeth Phiron was left to raise her demon child by her lonesome. Worked as a washerwoman down at the old inn on Main Street."
Ian waved a hand in the direction of the town, as if there was any question about where the story was set. There was only one street that ran through the town: Main Street.
"Ely, he grew up without a father or any friends -" here, Kristopher gave a sympathetic little coo and shudder and crawled a little further into his father's lap - "or any money. He was a queer child, and cruel. Nobody ever caught him at it, but cats and squirrels would turn up dead, with strange wounds. Ely, he liked to play by himself in the old graveyard at all hours, when he wasn't at school. The other boys' pets would disappear. Sometimes they found 'em, usually they didn't.
"Then one day, his mama found herself in quite a fix. Owed an awful lot of money to the hotelier for a golden locket that went missin' from a guest's room, y'see. She got the blame, though they never did find the locket on her person or the little room she lived in with her son. But guess who had taken it?"
"Ely!" cried Kristopher, wiggling with excitement.
"Ely," agreed Ian, nodding solemnly. "Never had two pennies to rub together in all his life and a rich lady come through, lost in the wilderness and wearing more finery than Ely had ever seen in the entire town where he lived. Didn't figure she'd miss just a bauble, but whether it was his bad luck or his devilry, the locket was deadly important to her. See, she kept in it a photograph - not of her rich husband out in Alabama, but the man she was fleein' out west to see."
Mariel listened, but she couldn't help but wonder how anyone had learned what the rich lady kept in her locket. It was the kind of tall tale told in every town, with the details changed here and there to keep it fresh. If she had heard one campfire story, she knew them all. Aya sat beside her, listening raptly, so she said nothing to break the spell of her fascination - and silence.
"You can't pay for a gold necklace with a washerwoman's wages, not with a child to feed, so Mrs. Phirnon took on another, less virtuous profession. Here, Glory covered Kristopher's ears. "She entertained some of the hotel's guests. A harlot."
Mariel, listening to the story and idly watching the stars wheel above her heard, gave a start and glared at Ian with her arm around Aya's waist.
"With all due respect to present company," added Ian hastily, before returning to the telling of his story. "Nobody knows what happened to the locket, only that the hotelier and his whole family died not long after. His body, they found that in the woods with his throat ripped out."
Aya gasped and covered her neck with both hands. She curled up close against Mariel, shivering with excitement and dread knowing what came next.
"No animal had killed him. The surgeon found a human tooth embedded in his spine."
Kristopher wrinkled his nose in disgust and Aya gave a shiver that started at the base of her spine and worked it's way up her back until she was shaking her head as though to dislodge the very image.
"Then Ely disappeared. His old mother died of despair not long after, and everyone thought their poor town was free from Satan's curse."
"But they weren't! Not really!" Kristopher's voice, high and childish, pierced the ever darkening night. Glory hushed him, and he fell back into enraptured silence.
"No," said Ian. "Not really. I was only a baby when Mr. Phiron returned, with a lot of money and a missing tooth. He came back to finish what he started, all of those years ago when my father was just a small boy. The White Swan had passed to the owner's estranged family, further out west. He had gone to seek his fortune and found nothing. When fortune - good or ill - gave him what he wished for, he squandered it all. The White Swan was a rundown shack when Mr. Phiron bought it from my grandfather."
Kristopher gasped with surprise, and the excitement of an expectation fulfilled. Mariel sat up a little straighter; she hadn't seen that coming.
"Mr. Phiron turned the place around. Cleaned it up all right, but he gave it a queer name: the Crow's Nest.
"Stranger things than that began to happen around town. Sickness, blighted crops. The Crow's Nest was the biggest inn for miles around, but nobody stayed there. It started to fall back into disrepair as Mr. Phiron ran out of the money he brought back with him, and as Mr. Phiron's money dwindled, the strangeness in town only increased. Horses spooking at nothing in the middle of the night, show up a few days later dead on Main Street. Strange folk visiting Mr. Phiron at the inn. A boy in my class disappeared. They found him later with his throat slit, same place the old hotelier was found. Mr. Phiron thought he was finishing the job, but he got the wrong kid: newcomers, same last name of Ivanovich. Russians.
"Ivanovich was my mother's maiden name, but Mr. Phiron didn't know if the heir was a son or daughter. He took the wrong child, but people finally confronted him. They barred him in his own hotel. He was under siege there for weeks. Pastor went to him every day, saying an excorcism would save Mr. Phiron's immortal soul from the fires of hell.
"Instead, Mr. Phiron, he burnt down the hotel. I don't know about the eternal flames of damnation, but the Crow's Nest burned like hell itself. Fire never spread, though. Not a lick of flame touched any other building, praise God. The ground beneath was barren, black and empty for years after that."
"Tell them where, tell them where!" Kristohper was positively wiggling with impatience to get to the best part.
"In time, in time. People said the land was cursed. No one would dare to build on it. It was a blight, at least -" here he paused, stretching the moment until it snapped. "Until a fine, strapping young gentleman, name of Nikos Vallas, bought it for a pittance and never asked why. Built a fine old saloon on top of it, our very own Cactus Flower."
verse: Cactus Flower
community:
writerverse prompt: Phase #4: Challenge #23: Things That Go Bump in The Night
word count: 1.501
characters: Mariel, Kristopher, Ian Grigori (Ely Phiron)
rating: PG
summary: In which Ian Girgori tells the story of Ely Phiron and the land on which the Cactus Flower Saloon now stands…
notes: Happy Halloween!
"Have you ever heard the story of Ely Phiron?" asked Ian Grigori. The flickering campfire flames lit his face with an eery light. Shadows played across his handsome features and reflected in his dark eyes.
"Nope," drawled Mariel. She sat opposite Ian. She leaned back on her good arm, the other still bound up in a sling. Aya Scarlett sat close by with her chin resting on her knees.
"Ooh!" cooed Kristopher, sitting to Mariel's left, half in and half out of his father's lap. "Yes!" His blue eyes widened with excitement to hear the story again; it was a town tradition. Nikos had found an excuse to stay behind at the empty saloon, which happened every year for so long it was almost a tradition in and of itself.
"Mr. Grigori does it best," Kristopher explained to Mariel earlier that day while she served him a soda. He was worn out from a busy afternoon of carving his perfect pumpkin. Glory had come in for something stronger than a soda.
"Well," said Ian, settling into the story. His wife clung to his arm, watching him attentively.
"Some say that Ely Phiron was half-demon on his mother's side. Satan's granddaughter, to hear it told, although she was as sweet a woman as any except for her eyes. They say she had red eyes."
Ian paused to let this sink in.
"Whatever Phiron was - human, demon, or Lord only knows what else - he was strong and he was fast. He never lost a draw and he started a whole lot of fights. As a boy, little Ely's schoolmates shunned him. As a man, other men gave Mr. Phiron a wide berth. He had the whole town afraid of steppin' on his shor'boots when I was a little 'un."
Grigori's accent thickened as he went on, until his speech was nearly incomprehensible to Mariel, with her clipped East Coast consonants. Beside her, Aya shivered with fearful, excited anticipation. Everyone, it seemed, knew the story. Except Mariel, the outsider. She had allowed Aya to lead her down to the campfire on the edge of town; still in view of the buildings, but far enough away that the light spilling through cracks in curtains wouldn't spoil the atmosphere of a scary story.
"He had lots of money, Ely Phiron, but ain't nobody knew where he come by it. I*f he had a human daddy, he ran off and poor Elizabeth Phiron was left to raise her demon child by her lonesome. Worked as a washerwoman down at the old inn on Main Street."
Ian waved a hand in the direction of the town, as if there was any question about where the story was set. There was only one street that ran through the town: Main Street.
"Ely, he grew up without a father or any friends -" here, Kristopher gave a sympathetic little coo and shudder and crawled a little further into his father's lap - "or any money. He was a queer child, and cruel. Nobody ever caught him at it, but cats and squirrels would turn up dead, with strange wounds. Ely, he liked to play by himself in the old graveyard at all hours, when he wasn't at school. The other boys' pets would disappear. Sometimes they found 'em, usually they didn't.
"Then one day, his mama found herself in quite a fix. Owed an awful lot of money to the hotelier for a golden locket that went missin' from a guest's room, y'see. She got the blame, though they never did find the locket on her person or the little room she lived in with her son. But guess who had taken it?"
"Ely!" cried Kristopher, wiggling with excitement.
"Ely," agreed Ian, nodding solemnly. "Never had two pennies to rub together in all his life and a rich lady come through, lost in the wilderness and wearing more finery than Ely had ever seen in the entire town where he lived. Didn't figure she'd miss just a bauble, but whether it was his bad luck or his devilry, the locket was deadly important to her. See, she kept in it a photograph - not of her rich husband out in Alabama, but the man she was fleein' out west to see."
Mariel listened, but she couldn't help but wonder how anyone had learned what the rich lady kept in her locket. It was the kind of tall tale told in every town, with the details changed here and there to keep it fresh. If she had heard one campfire story, she knew them all. Aya sat beside her, listening raptly, so she said nothing to break the spell of her fascination - and silence.
"You can't pay for a gold necklace with a washerwoman's wages, not with a child to feed, so Mrs. Phirnon took on another, less virtuous profession. Here, Glory covered Kristopher's ears. "She entertained some of the hotel's guests. A harlot."
Mariel, listening to the story and idly watching the stars wheel above her heard, gave a start and glared at Ian with her arm around Aya's waist.
"With all due respect to present company," added Ian hastily, before returning to the telling of his story. "Nobody knows what happened to the locket, only that the hotelier and his whole family died not long after. His body, they found that in the woods with his throat ripped out."
Aya gasped and covered her neck with both hands. She curled up close against Mariel, shivering with excitement and dread knowing what came next.
"No animal had killed him. The surgeon found a human tooth embedded in his spine."
Kristopher wrinkled his nose in disgust and Aya gave a shiver that started at the base of her spine and worked it's way up her back until she was shaking her head as though to dislodge the very image.
"Then Ely disappeared. His old mother died of despair not long after, and everyone thought their poor town was free from Satan's curse."
"But they weren't! Not really!" Kristopher's voice, high and childish, pierced the ever darkening night. Glory hushed him, and he fell back into enraptured silence.
"No," said Ian. "Not really. I was only a baby when Mr. Phiron returned, with a lot of money and a missing tooth. He came back to finish what he started, all of those years ago when my father was just a small boy. The White Swan had passed to the owner's estranged family, further out west. He had gone to seek his fortune and found nothing. When fortune - good or ill - gave him what he wished for, he squandered it all. The White Swan was a rundown shack when Mr. Phiron bought it from my grandfather."
Kristopher gasped with surprise, and the excitement of an expectation fulfilled. Mariel sat up a little straighter; she hadn't seen that coming.
"Mr. Phiron turned the place around. Cleaned it up all right, but he gave it a queer name: the Crow's Nest.
"Stranger things than that began to happen around town. Sickness, blighted crops. The Crow's Nest was the biggest inn for miles around, but nobody stayed there. It started to fall back into disrepair as Mr. Phiron ran out of the money he brought back with him, and as Mr. Phiron's money dwindled, the strangeness in town only increased. Horses spooking at nothing in the middle of the night, show up a few days later dead on Main Street. Strange folk visiting Mr. Phiron at the inn. A boy in my class disappeared. They found him later with his throat slit, same place the old hotelier was found. Mr. Phiron thought he was finishing the job, but he got the wrong kid: newcomers, same last name of Ivanovich. Russians.
"Ivanovich was my mother's maiden name, but Mr. Phiron didn't know if the heir was a son or daughter. He took the wrong child, but people finally confronted him. They barred him in his own hotel. He was under siege there for weeks. Pastor went to him every day, saying an excorcism would save Mr. Phiron's immortal soul from the fires of hell.
"Instead, Mr. Phiron, he burnt down the hotel. I don't know about the eternal flames of damnation, but the Crow's Nest burned like hell itself. Fire never spread, though. Not a lick of flame touched any other building, praise God. The ground beneath was barren, black and empty for years after that."
"Tell them where, tell them where!" Kristohper was positively wiggling with impatience to get to the best part.
"In time, in time. People said the land was cursed. No one would dare to build on it. It was a blight, at least -" here he paused, stretching the moment until it snapped. "Until a fine, strapping young gentleman, name of Nikos Vallas, bought it for a pittance and never asked why. Built a fine old saloon on top of it, our very own Cactus Flower."