Pick another one!
[AN: OK for future reference and my current incompetence, I’m using a checklist.
[ ] (In/Suc)cubus
[ ] Cursed animal
[ ] Dragon
[ ] Vampire
thank you for your patience with me. Oyeah. And it’s not going to be Tailor Swift.]
“It’s all goooooooooooooooooooooooone to ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust…” Amy leaned her head back to rinse out the lather. “The mall shop’s a derelict skeleton, the disco’s dead and the hop is done. The raves are flickering out–”
Amy stopped singing to shriek and cover her private areas. “What the fuck, guys?”
No answer. Just the sounds of fighting going on, outside the bathroom.
She rinsed off in a hurry and emerged from the steam in just a bathrobe.
“Command us,” said Bob.
“We will do your bidding,” said Quentin.
And there were some of her neighbours, outside the window. Pounding ineffectively on the glass.
Shit. Fuck. She’d forgotten again.
Singing along was a bad idea when you were a siren. Stupid fucking little shop that was never there again. She’d just wanted to sing well. Not that well.
Another fine morning interrupted by telling everyone in her sphere of influence to ‘snap out of it’. Again.
Amy wondered if making her boss so understanding about it was cheating.