CHAPTER 13
DANGEROUS GAMES

AMALIA Beaumont hadn't been to school in days.

Coraline wondered if she knew. Well, obviously, she couldn't have, since the police hadn't arrived at Coraline's door, or even Michael's. She was probably just spooked. Seeing a dead body in front of your very eyes was a troubling experience. For Coraline, however, it had become normal. But she understood Amalia's fear, and questioned if she'd ever come back. She had to.

"She told me that she saw two people kill him with ... magic."

Coraline's ears perked up at the voice. She had been heading to board game club that Wednesday afternoon, but after hearing Heather Beaumont's snarky tone, her feet suddenly stopped in place. Heather passed by her, heels clicking against the linoleum floors, with Nate Ashworth at her side. Coraline stared at them with narrowed eyes, already knowing that they were talking about Amalia.

Nate shrugged at Heather's statement. "She's gone crazy," he replied. "Magic doesn't exist."

Coraline swallowed hard. She was telling people that she saw magic. Amalia believed two people used magic to kill Shane McMannen. Coraline's blood ran cold. The claim was hard to believe. No one would believe her, and that was a good thing for both Coraline and Michael. But for some reason, it made her feel sad.

"Obviously," Heather rolled her eyes. She then glanced to her right, spotting Coraline's glare from across the hall. "What are you looking at?"

Scoffing under her breath, Coraline turned on her heel and walked away. She didn't have time for Heather's wrath. She was getting everything back finally, and Heather would soon reach her downfall once again. It's only a matter of time, she thought to herself, eyeing her student of the month portrait on a bulletin board.

She shoved open the door to the old teacher's lounge, sighing once she saw Greg shuffling a deck of cards on the table. They were beginning to play more card games than board games lately, which kind of defeated the purpose of board game club, but she wasn't going to start complaining to the only people who took her in when she was ridiculed.

They were playing poker today, which was Billy's all-time favorite card game. He led the game that day, placing a stack in front of each member and schooling them on his old school version of poker. Eloise was confused with his rules, but she began to understand after a while. She hated not being in the know.

As each of them turned in their first round of bets – all of which were small change – Greg bit his lip and fiddled with his cards. "So," he cleared his throat, "have you guys been keeping up with the murders around town?"

Billy looked up, annoyed that Greg would bring up a topic like that during his favorite game. "Really? We're gonna talk about that now?"

"It's a valid question!"

Eloise looked through her deck and placed her cards down, deciding to fold. "It's starting to look really bad. Did you hear that Amalia Beaumont witnessed one of them happen? She said that she saw two people do it, except ... not with their hands." She frowned. "My mom's not letting me go out past seven anymore. She's scared that something might happen."

Greg turned. "What are your thoughts, Cor?"

Coraline blinked, completely lost in her own thoughts. She had been staring at her deck of cards, yet she wasn't really paying attention to them. All she heard was her friends talking about the murders, and her mind swam with questions. She straightened her back and asked, "What?"

Billy raised a brow. "Greg asked you about the murders."

"Oh, I – um –" She shook her head, unable to form a coherent response. "It's ... pretty scary."

The statement came out like a question, causing all the club members to share a worried glance. Greg straightened his back and ran a hand through his fluffy, brown hair. "You okay today, Cora?" He asked with concern. "You seem ... out of it."

"There's just a lot going on right now, and I ..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged to end the reply.

"Yeah, guys. She's just stressed." Eloise smiled and nudged her friend. "She is top student of the month, after all."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying," he continued, "we should all be aware of what's happening and try to be safe. If we lose a member of this group, then we become even more limited to the games we can play." Greg looked to his cards again, releasing a soft chuckle at his own joke. "That goes for your Satanist boyfriend too, Cor. Hopefully, he knows what's going on."

He does, she wanted to say. God, he does.

But instead, Coraline muttered, "His name is Michael." She exhaled heavily and sat back in her chair, setting down her cards. "And I fold."

•••

Coraline hadn't planned on going out that night, which was clearly evident from the pajamas she immediately put on once she got home. But when Michael Langdon showed up at her window, begging her to come have dinner at his house that night, it seemed like her lazy evening was out of the question. Truthfully, she didn't want to go. What was the point anyways? To formally and officially meet his guardian? God, the thought made her sick to her stomach.

Wait, she thought, is this some "meeting the parents" dinner? Are we seriously doing that? She didn't want to ask him.

She promised to be ready in ten minutes. She lied. It took her twenty minutes to get ready. Coraline made sure her hair was in soft, pretty waves, and that she wore one her conservative outfits, which consisted of jeans and a henley shirt. She smudged lip gloss across her mouth and slipped on her favorite sneakers. Looking in the mirror, she sighed. Why was she trying so hard for a dumb dinner?

As Coraline descended the stairs with her pleather purse slinging across her shoulder, Francesca shut the door behind her, tearing off her gold hoops in the process. She kicked off her shoes and noticed her daughter halting on the last step. Francesca looked her up and pointed her long nose in the air. "Now, where do you think you're going, lady?"

Coraline pursed her lips. "Out."

Francesca dropped her bag next to her shoes. "Out where?"

"To Michael Langdon's house," she replied quickly, sprinting to the front door. "Don't wait up, please."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Francesca yanked on her daughter's arm. "I just got home from a terrible day at work and you leave? God forbid, I actually want some quality time with my daughter after being puked on by a guest's child, and she leaves."

Coraline's brow creased. "Mom, don't start with the bullshitting."

"Bullshitting?" Francesca scoffed. "I am not –"

"You're asking me not to go out because you want to spend time with me, but you really just don't want me to go see Michael." She placed a hand on the doorknob. "Right?"

The mother rolled her eyes. "So what if I do?" She implored, pinching Coraline's cheeks. "So what if I want the best for you?"

Coraline tapped her foot against the hardwood. Even when her mother agreed to stop doing this, she was always known to go back on her word.

Francesca sighed in an annoyed tone. "What if someone sees you?"

"No one will," she persuaded. "There's leftovers in the fridge that you can heat on the stove. Just let me go." Coraline bit her lip. "I think this might be ... important."

"Fine, fine. Go," the mother waved her off. Coraline grinned big. "Sure, leave your lonely mother to fend for herself, against the dark forces that plague the house a few blocks down. Leave her with –"

The front door shut suddenly, leaving Coraline to chuckle at her mother's monologue. She proceeded to cautiously walk down her front steps, waiting to round the corner of her house, when she stopped in her tracks. Michael was waiting for her, waving a gentle hand in her direction. Coraline released a calming breath. There's nothing to be worried about, she told herself.

They walked down the street in silence. Coraline's arm was laced through his as he guided her away from her safe space. When they finally approached the lawn of his small abode, everything felt more real. Moths flew around the porch light, and Coraline spotted the neon green lawn chair still in its place. "Should I be nervous?" She asked, suddenly turning to him. "Because I think I am. I don't know. It's hard to tell what's scary anymore after you've witnessed death."

Michael laughed. "I don't think you should be nervous. My Ms. Mead would never harm anyone I care about."

Anyone I care about, Coraline repeated in her head. The words almost made her woozy as she entered the house behind Michael. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to calm her nerves. It didn't exactly help.

If anyone should be nervous in this situation, it was him. He knew Miriam had no authority over him technically, but she was still raising him, and he didn't want to think about the one woman who loved him to disapprove of someone he cared for. Michael wondered if he would love Coraline the same way he loved Ms. Mead someday.

He guided her through the small living room and into the kitchen. Coraline took note of the ancient TV set with crooked antennas situated in front of a big window. A ratty, blue couch was placed on the other end, highlighted by the fireplace she noticed the first time she was in his house. The framed portrait of that demon-looking creature was still staring at her, following her every move.

She stopped suddenly once they reached the kitchen. A Satanic shrine was hung in the back of the dining table. Cinnamon-scented candles were placed around the room, but they didn't outweigh the delicious smell of honey-glazed chicken in the oven. Coraline eyed pots of different sizes littering the stove top, and she wondered what lied inside. The scents swirling around the kitchen were mouthwatering. Coraline's stereotypical side half-expected Miriam to force a pig's foot down her throat.

"Ms. Mead," Michael called in a sing-song voice. The stout women cranking the buttons on the stove turned around suddenly.

Miriam Mead was more terrifying up close. Coraline didn't remember ever being this close to her. She almost had the same color eyes as Michael, except hers were more grey, and they were always judgmental when they looked Coraline's way. Her black hair was styled in a slicked-back, short cut. Her wrinkled mouth formed into a thin line, which was coated in a dark purple lipstick. Coraline licked her own glossy lips, unsure if she should say something.

Michael swallowed hard as his guardian just stared at the two. All Miriam could see was Coraline's eyes over Michael's shoulder. "Well," she called to Coraline, "come over, child."

Coraline glanced to Michael for a moment, and then finally moved to his side. Miriam looked her up and down. The younger girl wondered if she was evaluating her.

"Ms. Mead," Michael cleared his throat, "this is Coraline Avery. She's my – um ..." He tilted his head to the side, trying to think of a term. Coraline shrugged when he looked to her for help.

Miriam raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. "Girlfriend?"

"Uh ..." Coraline wrinkled her nose. "I guess we can go with that for now."

Miriam laughed in a mocking tone, turning back to the stove to open it. The scent of glazed chicken put Coraline at ease again, despite her uncomfortable stature. Michael was staring at her with a raised brow, causing Coraline to shrug again. She mouthed, What was I supposed to say?

"Sit down, children," Miriam ordered, pulling the chicken out of the oven. "Dinner is served." She looked over her shoulder and sent Coraline a critical glance. "And don't worry, dear. We do cook it all the way through."

Coraline narrowed her eyes. She couldn't believe this woman was outright assuming that Coraline was thinking that. Well, maybe she had been, but that didn't give Miriam the right to assume. Michael nudged her elbow to stop her from staring, and casually grabbed her hand to lead her to the circular table.

Miriam laid heaps of food onto the table in different colored bowls. Coraline could tell they normally ate for just two, seeing as they didn't have another dining chair and had to grab a lawn chair for her to sit in. Miriam placed a hand on Michael's shoulder as she made her way to a chair, reminding him to say grace. Michael sighed, but quickly gestured for everyone to clasped their hands together. Coraline, with a puzzled expression, did as he asked.

"Bless us, Dark Lord, for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy infernal bounty, through the power of Lucifer Eternal." He bobbed his head. "Nema."

Coraline hardly said a word and slowly unclasped her hands. Michael instantly dug in once he noticed the bowl of corn on the table. He told Coraline that buttered corn was the only vegetable he'd eat willingly.

"How did you two meet?" Miriam asked in a suspicious tone.

Coraline looked up from her plate, chewing a piece of glazed chicken. Michael handed over a bowl of garlic noodles to her. She sighed, scooping contents from the bowl onto her plate, "Well –"

"I already told you, Miriam," Michael tsked gleefully and waved his fork at the guardian. He spoke while chewing on corn. "We met outside the house. Remember, you were there? I told you about this months ago."

"Has it really been that long?" She asked, reaching out and pinching Michael's cheek.

Miriam then turned to glare at Coraline, causing the younger girl to look back down at her plate. She chewed on her food quickly, as if she was in a hurry to leave. Truthfully, she was. Coraline could still feel Miriam's stare on her and tried her best to ignore it. At that moment, she debated on saying she felt sick and leaving.

"Coraline," Miriam called, and the brunette cautiously lifted her head. "What is your business being friends with my Michael? I thought I made it clear to the both of you that being friends isn't ideal. You're just simply not like us, Coraline." She huffed and placed a forkful of chicken in her mouth. "But alas, Michael never listens to me anyways."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "Miriam –"

"Don't use that harsh tone with me, boy," she spat, pointing at him with her fork. "You know what I asked. You know what I said."

His mouth scrunched up. "But you have no –"

"Hey, hey," Coraline muttered, putting up her hands. "No need to argue. My mother kept telling me it wasn't ideal either, but ... I don't know. Teenagers are usually inclined to acts of rebellion. There are entire studies behind it." She waved her fork around and chewed. "Just wanted to offer some perspective."

Miriam learned away and narrowed her gaze, contemplating Coraline's words. A few minutes of silence passed between everyone. All Coraline could hear was the sounds of utensils scraping against porcelain plates, which she noticed were lined with red.

"So," Miriam started again, wiping her mouth as she finished her dinner, "Michael tells me you're a prophet, correct?"

Coraline spat out the last piece of chicken from her plate. The chewed-up chicken flew across the table and landed on the kitchen counter, sitting in a mixture of spit and leftover butter. She held a hand to her chest and looked at Michael with surprise. "Why did you tell her?" She whispered, not bothering to be inconspicuous.

"She had to know!" Michael whispered back in the same tone. He straightened his back, smiling falsely towards Miriam. "I told Ms. Mead of your gift because it was important, and she says it could be beneficial for our Lord's plan."

Coraline brow creased at his voice. He was talking to her like she was the child when he usually spoke that way. For once, he sounded like an eighteen-year-old. "Your Lord's plan?" She repeated. "I have to focus on graduating high school. I don't have time for some plan."

"So are you a prophet or not?"

Coraline turned her head at Miriam's question. Her eyes shifted for a moment to the lone piece of chewed-up chicken on the counter. "Well," she exhaled heavily and wiped her mouth. "I guess I am. I don't know." She shrugged. "That's what Michael claims me to be. I can ... I can see visions of the future, and we've been using it for good."

Michael nodded his chin quickly in agreement. His face lit up with a huge grin.

"For good?" Miriam raised a brow before leaning back in her chair and scoffing under her breath. She then turned to Michael and smiled lovingly. "Dear, can you please put our plates in the sink and take out the trash?"

"Seriously?" He frowned. "Can't I just do it later?"

Miriam's smile twitched.

"Guess I'll do it now."

Coraline's eyes went wide as Michael stood. He couldn't leave her here with Miriam. Surely, the woman was planning to eat her alive. She was trying to tell him to sit back down with her stare, but he didn't look forward. He simply went on with his chores and took their clean plates. After placing them in the sink, Michael tugged the full trash bag out of the can, tied the bag, and dragged it outside. Coraline heard the door click shut as Miriam turned to her with a serious expression.

"I hope you know what you're dealing with," she whispered.

Coraline nodded. "Ah, there it is," she muttered. "You're trying to have one of those one-on-one talks with me. It was pretty obvious to Michael, you know."

Her joke didn't crack Miriam's frown. "Are you listening to me, girl? I don't know what you plan on doing with my boy –"

"We're just going out on a few dates." Coraline was shocked that she used the last word without thinking about it.

"Michael doesn't do dating!" Miriam continued in a harsh whisper, as if someone was listening. "He has never had a friend your age, so what makes you think dating would work out? This is a dangerous game you're playing, missy. It could hurt both of you if you two get too close. I would know." She huffed as Coraline narrowed her eyes. "You're canoodling with the Chosen One."

Coraline released a snort. "Canoodling?"

"You get what I mean," Miriam snapped. "I'm just warning you. He's our Chosen One, and whatever you two are doing together won't change your destinies."

Coraline's face twisted. Your destinies? Why was Miriam involving her in that statement? Regardless of her confusion, Coraline crossed her arms over her chest. "Michael and I are doing good things. You need to let us think for ourselves."

Miriam refused to comment. She simply shook her head at the naïve, teenaged girl in front of her. Coraline was through with being talked down to by adults. She stood from the neon lawn chair and stomped her way to the front door, calling to Michael outside, "Hey, need any help? You've been taking a long time out here!"

The door shut again. Miriam shook her head and rubbed at her temples. Teenagers would surely be the death of her. Remembering her lord's scripts was the only way she could keep herself centered, but she kept reflecting on a passage that she'd like to ignore in that moment. It was stuck in her brain, repeating over and over again as she stood from her chair and watched Michael and Coraline laugh together on the front lawn.

The Unholy Trinity represents all that will usher in the End of Times, the scripts foretold. It consists of our Dark Lord, the Antichrist (or the Beast), and the False Prophet. Deception, hatred, and unadulterated evil will lay in their wake. They will bring the End and rebuild the world together – but only if they are united through the bonding ceremony.

Miriam watched Michael drop the trash bag to the ground and hug his friend tightly. Coraline pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. The sight made Miriam want to vomit.

She shook her head and groaned, "And so, the Beast found his False Prophet. Go figure."

•••

A/N: Victoria writes too much uhhhhh again like always 🤷🏼‍♀️

We are fiNALLY getting to the meat of this fic, my friends!!! Just wanted to mention that I mean no disrespect to any religion-related stuff in this chapter (or the whole book, for that matter). I'm not from a very religious family so I don't know much about it, but I've tried to do a great deal of research for this fic! Anyways I'm rambling lol, my main point of this was to just disclose all of that

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