Heir Of Argranos

3

“My name is Frankenstein Grimes, but you can call me Frankie.” The girl said, motioning for me to follow her.

I scanned Frankie’s whole appearance, before I began to trudge behind her, as she led the way to the front doors of her house. There was something oddly unique about her whole look and the way she carried herself.

She cast a curious glance at me over her shoulder, through monolid eyes that were framed by thick black lines. I’ve heard that human beings often drawn lines around their eyes as a form of beautification. However, the reason why she would need any beautification puzzled me. This girl was stunning, in a weirdly eccentric way. I knew humans came in different races and ethnicities, but Frankie seemed like a mixture of two different races.

Was that possible? Apparently humans interbreed…

She ran a hand through her broom chopped hair, which stood electrified atop her head like she had just wrestled a squirrel out of it. A few locks of the shiny black hair dipped towards her lazy eyes, like overgrown bangs that needed to be trimmed.

Another curious glance was thrown in my direction.

When she focused her attention back on opening the front door, I took more notice of her below-average height and plump features. The denim shorts she wore accentuated her hips and thighs, but the oversized black tee tucked into the bulging waist-line made her upper body seem bigger than what was below the belt.

Frankie abruptly turned around and caught my eyes.

“Are you checking me out?” She asked, narrowing her already narrow eyes, and looking at me up and down.

I stalled for a moment. What did it mean to ‘check a person out?’ I had no idea, but I wasn’t willing to look, or sound stupid to the first, real human being I have ever made contact with.

“Yes.” I answered simply, and hoped that I wasn’t admitting to doing anything bad.

“Uh huh…” Frankie replied, trailing off and staring at me in a mixture of skeptical belief and indecisiveness. “Well, at least you’re honest.” She said with a shrug, and pushed the front door open. “Come on in.”

I would’ve plummeted right through her with or without the invitation, because I was really curious to see how the interior part of the house looked; if it was as magnificent and interesting as the outer part.

Stepping into the sitting room that welcomed us was like stepping into a portal to an entirely different world. It felt like my whole body was going to malfunction because my five senses were engulfed and overpowered all at once. I’ve never had this much sensory stimulation and excitement all at once.

The hairs on my body stood on edge, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as a cold blast of wind greeted me, instantly lowering my body temperature. It was like stepping into the fireless chambers of hell, the only difference being that there was something oddly pleasant and relaxing about this cold.

I tried to take in the bright colors and patterns in front of my eyes. The couches, while white and spotless, had floral patterns embroidered on the arms, headrests, and throw pillows. The low glass chandelier and clustered flower pots and decorative vases made the large space look homely and comfortable. Somewhere, a soft and pleasant sound that must be a piano played, but I couldn’t find the source of it. It seemed to reverberate and hum from all around me.

I sniffed, and sniffed again, and then did the action once more. I didn’t know where the scent came from, but it was exactly how I imagined oranges would smell like, when I was six.

My muscles relaxed, and I sighed, feeling the tension in my shoulders gentle wash away, and my excitement being slightly replaced with a weird sensation of tiredness in my bones.

“You’re not really from around here, are you?” Frankie concluded in a rhetorical manner, with one hand balanced on her hip, and a steady, interrogative stare.

“No.”

I tried to mentally reach out to my father through our shared telepathy, but it seemed his barrier was in place, because something stopped me from accessing his thoughts; which is the only way I could communicate mine to him. I needed to know how much Frankie knew about my identity. Seeing as she refers to my father as Mr. Sonargra, it would mean that she probably doesn’t know of his true identity…

But then again there was no way my father would send me here without at least letting her know some basic information. And he wouldn’t put my real identity in jeopardy now, would he?

“What’s your relationship with Argr –I mean, Mr. Sonargra?” I quickly asked, because it seemed like Frankie was about to ask me another interrogative question.

“He’s my patron. But, you would know that, since you’re his daughter… right?” She answered, taking a step closer and closer to me, until our breaths were practically mingling. “It’s alright…” She whispered, standing on her tippy toes so she could reach my left ear. “I know what your father is… I know he’s the devil.”

Placing a hand on her shoulder, I pulled her closer to me, and stooped a little so I could be the one whispering in her ear. The nape of her neck smelled like alcohol mixed with an expensive perfume. “Then shouldn’t you plead your allegiance to me? Shouldn’t you be on your knees?”

Frankie scoffed and took a large step back.

“Darling, not everyone worships Satan… It’s seems like you’ve got a lot of learning to do. Lesson number one; us humans, have a thing called ‘free will’… which means we get to choose whether or not to sign away our souls to some old guy in a grey suit promising an eternity of wealth and false immortality.”

I stared at her in surprise, quite taken aback.

“So…” I started, glancing around the sitting room that obviously costs a fortune to own and decorate. “You mean you didn’t sign over your soul to my father?”

She shook her head ‘no’, with a bright smile, and signaled at her temple. “You could say I’m smarter than the devil…”

“But why…” I began, gesturing to the chandelier and the entire room.

“Why am I wealthy?” She completed my question. “I did your father a favor a very long time ago, and he, in turn, repaid me with all of this.” Frankie explained, gesturing to the surroundings like I had done earlier in a slightly mimicking way.

I nodded, although I didn’t quite understand what sort of favor my father would ever need from a mortal, and why he would actually repay her. Kindness wasn’t really my dad’s forte.

“Anyways…” Frankie started, brushing a hand through her shiny black pixie cut, and blowing a lock of hair out of her face. “Come with me, I’ll show you to your room. A messenger dropped by earlier and bought you some of the necessary stuffs you’ll need while living here. Clothes, makeup items, technological gadgets, the likes…” She explained, as she advanced to the spiraling stairs that led to the second floor.

“I suck at giving tours, but the house is not that big, so you’ll figure your way around soon. That is the kitchen,” she said, pointing to the left, where a transparent sliding glass led to an empty and obviously unused kitchen. “And the door over there leads to the backyard…”

I followed her finger to the door she pointed at, and made a mental note to check it out as soon as I can, because I was curious to see the garden.

We ascended up the staircase, and I tried to keep up with all the things she was saying, while still focusing my attention on every little detail that made the house unique.

“Here.” Frankie said, handing me a key.

“Your items are inside, and if you need anything, I’m three rooms down. Feel free to barge in and assault me with questions.” She paused for a moment, before adding “On second thought, don’t. I had a rough night yesterday, and it’s barely twelve o’clock. I need to take a nap… if you have any questions, save them until later when I get up for a beer or something.”

I watched Frankie go, and once she had banged the door to her room shut, I tried the key on the door to my own room, and swung it open once I heard a click.

To be honest, I was prepared to see something as equally exquisite and expensive as the sitting room, and the appearance of the whole house. I was expecting something posh, something classy, and something fancy or chic. Instead, a simple queen-sized bed was wedged in a corner, white and caramel sheets covering the surface. Ashen but sturdy floorboards, a fireplace on the opposite side of the bed’s location, a dresser with a large mirror, a small door that probably led to a walk-in closet and that was it.

The single black backpack I had packed my most important stuff inside was safely tucked away at the foot of the bed, surrounded by numerous white storage bags.

I huffed in disappointment.

As I slammed the door shut behind me, a single post-it note, which had been stuck to the backside of the door floated down to the floor, its glue too weak to fight against gravity.

I stooped down and grabbed the note.

‘You start school by next week. Behave. And Bellus says ‘hi’… Or does he? I don’t speak demonic Chihuahua…’