It was just before nine o'clock and the full moon was rising menacingly over the forest in the corner of Glendale. The moon spread itself over the Seelie house, an old Victorian cast in the shadows of arthritic bony-fingers cast from the darkest pitch of the forest trees. The sinking mortar gave the appearance of a grave marker: only one reflection of its age. Cracked paint, molded window frames and missing shutters added to its sinister look. From a small round window on the third floor, a curtain pulled back and revealed a face peering out into the night at the four children standing by the rusted iron gate. From the bird's eye view the four were dwarfed by the strangling shadows in the yard. Had the four looked up to see through the window, they would have seen a hunched back, and silver hair on an old woman with a grin that showed far too many teeth. The curtain drew quickly back again to hide the hideous form as the children stood in the gateway of the property.

"Oh, go ahead. Knock, I dare you."

Martin had long black hair that extended just past his ears and was dressed entirely in black clothes with a cape that was too long for him. It dragged on the ground behind and as he coaxed his peers to knock at the door of the Seelie's home, he garbled words between his plastic fangs. His eyes seemed to pierce Molly's gaze as he grinned slightly.

Molly turned her head to the house to avoid the stare and saw it camouflaged against that forest backdrop. Some of its trees littered the front lawn at odd angles spotting the area with ominous shapes draped over the structure's eaves.

Shuddering in the chill of the evening, she turned back to the three friends who stood about her. Janet stood fidgeting, tugging at Martin's arm, begging him to leave. "Don't do this." She said to him with a tone of desperation. She was holding the length of her dress as she moved down to grab Martin's hand in hers, an attempt to pull him from the house and his mission to cajole his victims.

"No, I really want to see this."

"You know what happened the last time, please, let's just leave."

"I think they're chicken."

Molly turned her gaze back to Tom, who was as new to Glendale as she. Though he was, perhaps two months more seasoned, he did not know who lived in the house, nor the horrible rumors that had been spread about its inhabitants. Had he heard, his reach would surely not have extended to take Molly's hand in the dark glow of that Hallow's Eve. His stormy gray eyes fell upon her in a moment of courageousness and both moved toward the house up the cobblestone walk. The wrought iron gate slammed behind them which caused both to startle and stop their slow procession forward. The wind kicked up enveloping them in an icy blast of cold and both clung tighter to each other's hand. The shivers turned to bumps climbing arms through the neck causing bones to quake. Somehow, the two will still drawn to the house, with its heavy oak door. With one look back to Janet and Martin, they continued cautiously to the door.

All at once the two on the street shrieked and took heel, running towards the center of town as the door flung open and three women stood on the porch. All were grinning with pointing teeth that filled their mouths.
"Greetings." said the tallest and the youngest of the three to the left.

"Salutations." came from the old hobbly creature on the right.

"Come in for some tea" said the middle as all three stepped to the side. Molly and Tom looked at each other with fear, but felt somehow compelled to follow the order. As they entered the doorway the three women turned their backs to the street revealing three sets of wings drawn taught against their backs and stretching down to the bottom of their dresses.

The heavy oak door slammed into its cracked frame. "It doesn't close all the way if we do not slam it" said the oldest of the three. They were standing in line youngest to oldest, tallest to shortest in front of the doorway through which they all entered. The entrance was of an old, dimly lit cathedral with a dark tiled floor appearing to sing of the Renaissance. The hallway into the house led to a winding wooden staircase that wound around a towering form, disappearing into pitch blackness. "Please, after you" said the old woman again this time pointing with a crooked arthritic finger under her bent nose. Seeing their escape blocked, they walked slowly towards the first incline to avoid showing the hostesses their rising fears.

Their footfalls echoed through the arch. Looking up, the two friends say stars and the full moon rising slowly through an enormous skylight. Tom tripped into Molly, and as both attempted to rise they felt the cold breath of ice across their backs. The three were following closely behind. Close enough to chew them with those grotesque teeth.

"Be Careful children. We wouldn't want you to bruise that pale white flesh."

The youngest was offering an arm to lift Tom. He accepted the assistance and with a forceful lift he was on his feet. Molly sat on the step brushing her jeans clean, and then she, too rose up and stared at the women. Six jet black eyes pierced her skin and make her avert her gaze back to Tom. "Are you okay?"

The three hovered about her, almost floating, urging her on with silent stares. She turned and followed Tom's heels with the ominous looming figures at her back. They made no sounds with their steps because the stairs were now carpeted.

All came to an abrupt halt on the landing in a warmly lit country kitchen. There was a table in the middle of the room set for five with saucers and cups for tea, flowered plates with forks and a spice cake sitting boldly in the middle of a brightly colored table cloth that matched the rosy flowers on the flatware. To the left was a gas stove with a teapot piping its readiness through the room, and a saucepan filled with a warming glaze for the cake.

The three women walked into the kitchen and attended their work, the youngest could now be seen with long brownish green colored hair, a pale face, and unusually tall figure that stood even above Tom's six feet. She glided over to the saucepan, stirring its contents with a whisk for a moment, then turning to pour it over the spice cake. She had unfolded her wings a bit in her more comfortable surroundings and they revealed themselves to almost resemble those of a ladybug, sheathed in a harder shell to protect them.

The middle aged of the three took the teapot from the stove and poured its contents into a kettle with a variety of sweet spices and tea leaves. She introduced herself as Grimalken Seelie, mother of Eve and daughter of Morgana.

While Grimalken introduced the three ladies, the old woman folded napkins into animal shapes, though it could never be repeated by any mortal. She beckoned the two to take place by their shape: a hare for Molly and a deer for Tom. Three others sat shaped on each place setting--Morgana took her place by the raven, Grimalken by the cat, and Eve by the serpent.

Conversation flowed with ease from that point on. Though the two friends were apprehensive, the three women showed them only the kindest hospitality. Entirely expecting their tea to be poisoned, they watched the three women drink theirs first, and they allowed only listening. The three women shared many secrets, but the children nothing except perhaps their names. It became quite clear to them that the three women were not the evil haunting people that the town seemed to make of them.

"What happened here before that made our friends so afraid when you answered the door?"

"Of that we cannot tell you, only that we were not responsible for what had happened." Explained Eve replied to that comment "We only know that a young man was torn apart on Hallow's Eve for trespassing someplace he should not have been. He did not know any better, but ignorance means nothing to them anymore. They have turned to cruel creatures intent on destroying the man who imprisoned them. There are a few among them who dare to rebel against the head mistress, but only so few that they could not help that poor boy. He was only thirteen. He stumbled to a place he should not have been."

"That's sufficiently vague," said Molly feeling more confident. "I didn't think there really was any story. I thought it was all just made up to scare us in school. But did Martin do the same thing?"

"Yes, I believe he did, but not this home. Perhaps he thought it would produce more extravagant a show because our house shows its age. I do not know his motivations to sending you here, but you have been lucky."

"Fed well at least," sighed Tom with a sigh of contentedness.

"we'd better be going. It's been really cool, and I am kinda glad we came. I hope we meet again." said Molly rising from the table and pushing in her chair politely. "You can always call us. We're both listed."

"Perhaps we shall see you again Molly Flanders and Tom Spacek." replied Grimalken. "Perhaps this very night. Beware the woods at night."

"Thanks, but we aren't even really going near there. We'll just do some trick-or-treating on our ways home. We'll be fine." said Tom.

They said their good-byes and parted company with their hostesses, making their own way toward the center of town, feeling confident with themselves that they had done well, and would return to school the next morning to tell Janet and Martin horrifying stories of the three women in the house. They were determined to keep the secret for themselves, not sharing the wonderful hospitality of the three with any of the inhabitants of that provincial little town. They made their pact and shook hands on it, continuing on their way stopping at random houses to beg for their candy.

When they came to the little Baptist Church that marked the center of Glendale, they decided to visit the priest who lived in the home just next door. It was bright white with a white iron fence. Upon it were painted red ribbons tied in bows, and bushes surrounding that fence with bright red berries. These were the types of bushes parents warn their children about when they see the birds pecking the fruit from its branches.

There was a porch light on, glaring at them like a spotlight so they looked down upon the ground as they entered through the gate. It locked behind them and they noticed on the ground that it was covered with four leaf clovers. "Whoa." said Tom in disbelief. I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before." "You're right, it's weird." They continued foreword, and saw to their left a birdbath with a fountain. The property was well-maintained, and had landscaping style flower beds surrounding the perimeter of the house. A few random trees littered the front lawn, but appeared no more threatening than a Pekinese dog yapping at one's feet. They looked forced and stuck in their specific places on the lawn and did not wish to grow past their 6 foot heights--a rebellion against their planters.

When they came to the door, there was a brightly polished brass knocker upon which sat the head of a horse. Tom looked at Molly encouraging her to take the responsibility for waking the dead. As she gripped the knocker, it felt warm in her hands. She rapt it against the aluminum door. It echoed around her as the horse opened its mouth and bit her hard on the fingers. She pulled back suddenly, edging further and further back until she noticed that there were hundreds of eyes staring at her. She could never pinpoint where one of the sets of eyes was because it would disappear as she looked straight at the place where she saw the piercing gaze. One of the windows seemed to be screaming at her "What right? What right did you have?"

"What? I just knocked at the door? What are you? Are you up in that room there?"

"I am that room there and how dare you build this house here?"

"But I didn't build the house" replied Molly. "The priest lives here."

"There is no one inside here, and you are on the property what right do you have to knock at the door of this house?"

"I didn't know it was illegal. Will you come out now and show yourself?"

"I can't come out, I am imprisoned in the shape of this room. I was imprisoned by a man. Is that him there with you, woman?"

"Now, does he look like he could really do that?" Molly was feeling threatened but more angry than afraid. The house spoke again:

"The man who imprisoned us left us here for the night it seems. He knew we would be waiting for him. He knew we would take our vengeance. I see he took all precautions to keep us in our cells, and it seems to have worked. But you woke us, and for that you should be punished. We must serve that man all days of the year except this and the solstice. You dare to take our peace?"

"I'm truly sorry, if I could help you I assure you, I would, but I really have to go."

By this time, Molly had made it to the gate at the front of the house and she opened it clumsily placing it between herself and the house. She saw Tom still staring trying to determine the actual location of the voice.

"Tom, come on." She said to him hurriedly. Tom slowly began to walk toward her on the gravel of the walkway. He turned away from the house, and as he did, a rush of air and a flutter surrounded his head like a thousand birds flapping their wings at him. He felt heir beaks and their claws at him, tearing into him gashing the wounds deeper and deeper and simply screamed trying to ward off the creatures. Molly watched as he batted at thin air thinking him mad. She reached across the gate, but could barely touch him. She grabbed a piece of his shirt, but it tore off, leaving her with a blood stained shred. Leaning over the gate as far as she could she tried again to reach him, but failed again.

"What do you want from us?" She screamed into the night. Tom stopped fighting, and lay on the ground still switching his eyes back and forth afraid of a returning onslaught.

"Would YOU help us?"

"If I can. Are you related in any way to the Seelies? They seem to know you."

"We were once. But it has been so long. We have been imprisoned so long. That is not concern. Our concern is to escape. You must help us, or he will die."

"I will do whatever I can."

"It's very simply you see. You just open that gate, and leave it open, and we will return your friend to you in the morning."

"How can I trust you?

"What choice do you have? I assure you upon my word, that he will be returned to you unharmed. Provided you do that one favor for us. We simply wish to escape our imprisonment."

"All right." replied Molly. She had gotten used to the honesty of the Seelies, and having trusted them toward the end of their encounter, she believed the intentions of these creatures to be the same. After tying the gate's door to itself, she walked home alone, glancing back at Tom, who was now covered with a green sheet and blanket, asleep and lying in a patch of four leaf clovers. She put her faith in the word of her attackers and went home. She said nothing to her family of conservative realists. She did not sleep. She dozed a bit at 5 am and woke to the sound of shrieking from the center of town. Glendale awoke to this sound, and sirens blared in the distance. Molly started up out of bed. She was still in her costume form the night before. Putting on a warm jacket, she darted out the door to the house where the priest lived next to the church and when she arrived she found that the house was gone, as was Tom. In his place were crows crowded around a large patch of fresh meat that looked as though it had been picked from bones. The gate remained around the house, but the entrance was still tied to keep it open.

Behind her she heard the voice from the house. A woman she had never seen before was walking with Grimalken. "Molly, thank you. You will be rewarded."

"I'm not sure I like the reward so far. What was so awful that made you kill him?" Grimalken spoke now "We couldn't tell you your fate, only imply it. Ten years ago that priest decided he would build his church on our home. When we cam to protest this action, he used his Bible and his contrived faerie spells stolen from the books of the unseelie and imprisoned us in his own home. We became the rooms, the lights, the furniture. Please understand, that this man did not mean well. He knew his guilt. He wanted his church so badly, however, that he maintained us imprisoned there, and kept all other Seelie away, with the Rowan bushes and the four leaf clovers. He could always see us for who we were. Our glamours could not help us. So we waited, for you.

"You used me."

"Yes. But not as you think. We simply didn't allow you the option to question your fate."