A Welcoming Gift

I never thought moving to some podunk town in Maine would be so strange. I had always wanted to move back to the New England states as I had spent my boyhood there. Unfortunately, my folks moved us to Ohio when it became too expensive to live up here. When I found a listing for a remarkably cheap house less than an hour from Bangor, I jumped at the chance to return.

When I drove through the town, I was chilled to the marrow by what I saw. There was barely a 'Main Street' to speak of. There was perhaps a handful of restaurants, a dilapidated post office, and a church that had obviously seen better days. The rest of the buildings lay completely abandoned and falling apart. People were milling about the remaining institutions, stopping their half-enthused morning gossips to gawk and stare at the new, unwelcome fascination: my out-of-state license plate. Their pale, melancholic faces stared out to me hollowly. I drove past, fearing that one might try to flag me down.

After a while, I finally located my street. My neighbors busily attended their browning lawns: raking leaves and doing some final mowing and gardening before the onset of winter. Each and every one stared at my car as I passed. One old man's gaze seemed to find my eyes and pierce them with subtly malicious intent. I hurried along the road after that, locating my new home without too much more difficulty.

I began to see why the house was so cheap. It definitely needed some work, the vinyl siding with sagging in places, the eaves were overgrown with ferns, weeds, and saplings, and the yard was nearly strangled with undergrowth. I sighed.

This was home.

I counted my blessings: most of my neighbors were only close by a ten minute walk at a brisk pace.

The morning passed uneventfully as I began to unpack. As sweat gathered on my brow, I took a break around noon for lunch. Without warning, clouds closed in and began a soft patter of rain. A wave of lethargy hit me as the smell of petrichor filtered in from the open windows. I nearly dozed off completely before I heard the doorbell ring.

I was startled, but not at all surprised. Word travels quick in small towns after all. I steeled myself before walking to the door and opening it.

My eyes widened as I saw a woman standing beneath an umbrella. She had brown eyes, thin features, and dark hair that hung down just below her shoulders. She wore a tasteful crimson blouse with dark faded jeans. The rain hung lightly in her hair, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Hello!" She said in a disarmingly cheerful tone.

I couldn't help but smile. "Hi."

"I'm Meaghan. I live just down the way, there. Did you just move in?"

"Hi, my name is Brendan! Yeah, I'm getting unpacked as we speak."

Meaghan looked over to my car. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No. I'm actually from outside Portland. Haven't been up here in years."

"The north country?" She asked innocently.

"No, Maine," I giggled.

She smiled a wide, white smile. "What's so funny?"

I blushed. "Nothing, you're just very nice compared to the rather cold welcome I got coming in."

"Nice?" She asked with a hint of curiosity. "I'm glad you seem to think so. I have a bit of a... reputation around this town."

I shrugged. "Nonsense. You seem like a kind person. You're actually the first to speak to me since arriving."

She lowered her head and grinned. "I see. Well, I'm sorry I don't have a proper welcoming gift for you, that's awfully short-sighted of me."

"Oh, that's alright," I responded, "if you're interested, I should have enough taken out to prepare dinner if you'd like to come back later."

She widened her eyes. "Oh! I really shouldn't... I wouldn't want to intrude."

I snorted. "Intrude away. I actually wouldn't mind company tonight."

Meaghan thought for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

She took a careful breath in. "Can I count that as an invitation?"

I nodded. "One hundred percent."

She smiled a slow, gracious smile. "Then I shall see you later this evening. Dinner time."

"Yes you shall."

The day continued much as it had. I continued to unpack. A smile lingered on my face for much of the day. I had not considered that I would be making friends on the first day.

The evening came without much of note. Placements were set, dinner arranged along with two glasses of red wine, and I waited patiently. I checked my watch, keeping an eye on dinner in the oven while waiting to see the headlights of Meaghan's car. The hour dragged on and nothing happened.

Suddenly, I heard one of my front windows fly open and creak on its hinge. I paced out of the kitchen to inspect it. The living room was dark, just as I had left it. There was not much in there other than boxes, so it was not much use keeping a light on in there yet. Then, the backlighting from the kitchen was cut. I turned back, slowly creeping back into the room. The hairs on my neck stood on end as my eyes struggled to find the knife block I had placed barely two hours prior.

With a sudden shift in the air, the light in the kitchen turned back on. My eyes struggled yet again to see as I saw a shadow coalesce at the far end of the room.

"Ah, dinner is prepared, I see," rang a familiar voice.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw Meaghan there before me. Her smile was wider than I had seen it previously as it bared her teeth. There were a lovely set of sharp incisor fangs nestled amongst them. I paused in my tracks.

"Not from around here?" she teased, rubbing her fangs with her lower lip. Saliva began to gather.

"No," I said calmly, flexing my hands.

With a swift practiced motion, I waved my left hand in front of my right while tracing an arcane movement with the fingers of each hand. Cinders gathered in my right hand to form a red hot smoldering wooden stake.

"I was under the impression that this would be a calm, civil dinner between two new acquaintances."

Meaghan flexed and sighed amusedly. "Have it your way, witch."

Without any further sign of hostility, we both sat down at the table, eyes locked on one another.

"A pleasure to meet you," I said.

"You as well," she agreed.

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This short was written for Marie Sinadjan's Spooky Season Bingo writing challenge under the prompt 'Not from here.'

This was also written in two an a half hours during a neuro-divergent fugue state. Enjoy.