CHAPTER 2
HAIL SATAN

WEIRDLY enough, Greg Romano had actually gotten the new version of Clue: Freak Show. When the board game club met the next day, Greg whipped the big box out of a plastic bag, like it was some sort of ancient relic in an Indiana Jones movie. "This is just a prototype, because it doesn't come out until next year," he explained with a proud smile. "My dad was able to get it for us."

Eloise shared a knowing look with Coraline, remembering the conversation they had yesterday, and Coraline chuckled softly at the inside joke. The club met after school in the abandoned teacher's lounge that no one knew about. It was located in the old portion of the school, consisting of leaky ceiling and broken tiles. The board game club decided to meet here so they could keep out of the school's radar. Once the faculty knew about them, they'd have to pay a club fee, and Billy said he'd be damned if he ever had to pay money to organize a club.

An hour later, they were still in the first round. "This game is too long," Billy complained after rolling the dice. "Whoever your dad has connections to, tell them that this freak show sucks."

Greg scoffed. "Just be grateful I even got it! I'm sick of replaying Uno, or your favorite – Candy Land."

"Candy Land is good," Billy muttered under his breath and tugged his hood over his dark hair. He tossed the dice across the circular table to Coraline. "Your turn, Cor."

Coraline nodded and shook the dice in her fist before rolling. It landed on three. As she reached out for her character piece, Eloise commented, "You're quiet today, Cor. What's going on?"

She shrugged, moving her piece into the freak show's grand ballroom. "I don't know. I saw the flyers for the Winter Ball before coming here today, and I think I'm stressing over it."

"Why?" Billy snorted, scrunching up his long, caramel-colored nose. "Are you actually gonna go? I thought that wasn't your thing anymore."

Coraline's mouth dropped. "Are you kidding? I have to go! I've gone to every school dance since middle school, and a new psychotic reputation isn't going to stop me."

"Sounds dumb," Greg mumbled and ruffled his brown mop of curls. He tapped a pencil against the table, thinking of a suspect for his notes.

"Well, that's just your dumb opinion," she snickered, malice laced in her tone. Crossing her arms over her chest, she continued, "Attending the Winter Ball might help get the rumors off my back. You know, like, up my social status again. Maybe then I'll have an edge to win prom queen later this year."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Cor. Just make sure you leave a note when you break up with us losers."

"That isn't what I –" She sighed, waving her manicured hands in the air. "Never mind. I'll change the subject." She leaned back in her seat and met Eloise's worried stare. The black-haired girl sent her a candy-sweet smile, and Coraline glanced back to the boys. "There's a new family in town."

"We know," Billy grinned big. "Everyone knows."

Greg nodded, "News travels fast in a small town."

"Huh," Coraline cocked a brow upward. "They live on my street. A couple houses down. Its just this middle-aged woman and – I'm guessing – her son? The guy looks our age." She then cast her eyes down, shifting through the playing cards in her hands, and released a snort. "Maybe we should invite him to our club."

"I heard he's homeschooled," Eloise added, rolling the dice across the table. "Thomas Quaily was saying in my Trig class that they're a bunch of Satanists. The mom – who doesn't even look like she could be related to her son – was hanging around the church on a Sunday morning, trying to convert the crowd."

Greg scowled and watched Eloise knock his character piece out of the way. "Its probably best that he's homeschooled. The cliques here would eat him for breakfast."

Coraline remembered his face again. All sharp features and flecks of darkness in those too-blue eyes. Golden hair whipping in the wind. High cheekbones and straight nose, with a few freckles dotting his skin. He looked seventeen, but had the features of a full grown adult. Remembering his stare caused a shiver to crawl down Coraline's spine. She doubted if he'd let anyone eat him alive.

"Why does it matter if he's a Satanist?" Coraline finally asked, eyeing a specific card in her deck.

The table went silent. Coraline hadn't noticed that nobody moved until a minute later. She looked up, meeting her friends' stares. Was the question really that shocking? Since she became the friendly, neighborhood psycho, Coraline suddenly became interested in all things weird and wonderful. She didn't know her new neighbors, but they seemed to fit the bill on her interests. She didn't exactly want to judge them either. Her, out of all people, knew what that felt like.

"What?" She asked incredulously.

Billy set down his card hand and knitted his bushy brows together. "Did you really just ask why it mattered if your new neighbor was a Satanist?"

Coraline's eyes darted to each of them. "I don't understand what the big deal is if they're not harming anybody."

"They're Satanists!" Greg exclaimed. He slapped his hands down on the table, causing a few character pieces to topple over. "They worship Satan! That isn't a problem to you?"

Coraline shrugged, which made Greg's eyes narrow. Eloise put out a hand to calm down her friends. "Now, guys. There's no reason to get worked up over this. Its just her opinion –"

"Listen, Cor," Greg continued, interrupting Eloise's defense and making her sigh in defeat. He pointed a stern finger towards Coraline, who frowned sarcastically at him. "I know that you've suddenly tried to accept people more since you became – well – a freak like us, but this ... I can't get behind it."

Coraline set down her deck and released a huff. "Can I make the unanimous decision for us to end this conversation? Okay? Done. Over." She picked up the dice that had casually rolled to the middle of the board and threw it to Billy. "Your turn, Dahr. Roll it."

•••

Despite enjoying her autumn walks home, Coraline knew it was going to be hell once the sweltering weather came. She really wished she had a car to drive, but neither her or Francesca could afford it with the grocery and electricity bills each month. Sometimes, Coraline thought it would just be easier to move out of the big house she held so dear, but she knew her mother would never allow it. "This house ... This house is important, Coraline," she would say, hurt laced in her tone. "How could you ever suggest we move out?!"

The house was the last thing her mother had to wealthy reputation. She'd do anything to keep it. They were both selfish in that way.

Coraline's black boots clicked against the sidewalk, creating a soft rhythm as she tapped along to the song playing through her headphones. Popping a bubble from the gum in her mouth, she bobbed her head to the new Taylor Swift album, Reputation, and found the name fitting to the particular situation she was in now. She had never been much of a Swiftie fan, but something about a woman owning up to being a snake was so thrilling to her.

Suddenly, Coraline found herself stopping in her tracks at the sight ahead. Her new neighbors were outside, enjoying the beautiful fall day. The stout, dark-haired woman sat on a small deck lining the front of their house. As Coraline slowly neared the house, she took out her headphones and noticed that the woman was blasting Fleetwood Mac from an old speaker beside her. A magazine rested in her wrinkled hands, but she was holding it upside down. Her son – or whatever he was – tore a brand new rake through the leaves scattered across the front yard. His technique was odd, and she wondered if he was just too lazy to rake or he simply didn't know how to do it, almost like a child.

They worship Satan! Greg's voice echoed in her head. That isn't a problem to you?

Coraline wrinkled her nose at Greg's words from the day before. Maybe he was right; maybe it was a problem. And maybe she had begun to accept people more than she hadn't before, but Coraline's goals were to be a better person ... and become popular again. Simple. Easy. Totally not selfish. This was just another step in doing that.

Instead of crossing the road to get to her house, Coraline continued walking closer to the new neighbors. Soon enough, she was in front of their house, tapping her feet against the pavement and popping a bubble. The blonde boy looked up, hardly moving a muscle as he laid his eyes on Coraline.

"Hi, neighbor," she greeted, nodding her chin in his direction. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the older woman view up from her magazine and stare through a pair of sunglasses. Coraline smiled awkwardly. "I live right down there. In the –"

"In the big, brick house," he answered.

Coraline cocked her head to the side, nodding slowly. "Um – yeah," she clicked her tongue. "So what's your name? I haven't seen you around the high school. What are you – like, sixteen? Seventeen?"

The boy twisted around to glance at his caretaker, who scrunched up her mouth and looked away. He finally turned back to meet Coraline's curious expression. "Eighteen," he replied, dropping the rake onto the grass nonchalantly. Coraline almost backed away when he stalked forward, excitement dancing in his eyes, like a child on Christmas morning. He smiled cheekily. "My name is Michael Langdon. Miriam teaches me from the house so I don't have to go to public school."

So everything they said was true, Coraline thought to herself. But who is Miriam? His mom? That woman on the deck? She could only assume so.

Coraline played with the straps of her orange backpack, chuckling softly. "Lucky you," she hummed as silence filled the air. Michael continued to stare at her with a mix of wonder and enthusiasm. Maybe it was a good thing that he was homeschooled. For an eighteen-year-old boy, he had the attitude of a pubescent teenager. He probably just ... wanted to make a friend. She couldn't blame him. In fact, his weird personality kind of drew her in. Greg was so wrong.

"I'm Coraline Avery," she introduced, pulling her small, pink lips into a grin. "You can call me Cor, or Cora, if you want to. I imagine we'll be seeing each other around."

"Coraline," Michael mused, taking one step closer. He smirked then. "I prefer full names. Coraline it is."

Coraline's brow shot up. "Alright then," she chuckled, backing away to cross the street. "I guess I'll see you later, Michael." She waved, looking over her shoulder as she walked to the other side of the road.

Michael raised his hand, contemplating a movement, before he finally waved back. Miriam scoffed from the porch, setting down the magazine in her lap. "Michael!" She called loudly. "If you want your favorite desert later, then finish ..."

They were already out of ear-shot when Coraline reached her home. Her mother's car was parked in the driveway: an old, cherry-red Chevrolet Camaro her husband had bought her for an early anniversary present years ago. The hotel must've let her out early today. Coraline unlocked the front door, ready to call out her mother's name as she hung her house keys on the rack next to the door. Before she could utter a word, she found her mother waiting by the window in the living room, peering through the sheer, purple curtains. She was still wearing her uniform, but her hair hung down in loose, brown waves.

Francesca Avery could be such a nosy busy-body sometimes. Back when she didn't work and her husband provided everything, that's all she would do. Attend wine socials and discuss the latest town gossip with other housewives. Coraline hoped that mentality would've stopped once her mother became consumed by her job, but ... looks like she was wrong on that one.

"What are you doing?!" She whispered loudly, as if whoever she was spying on could hear them. Shoving her mom to the side a bit, Coraline realized she had been watching Michael and Miriam. She frowned towards her mother.

Francesca chewed her bottom lip, eyes narrowing at the strangers. "Are those new neighbors?" She shook her head. "I told Jacob that he should've had this place built in a better neighborhood."

"Do you seriously have nothing better to do with your time?" Coraline scoffed, shutting the curtain in front of her.

Francesca rolled her eyes and kept her hand right where it was, holding the curtain open. "I saw you talking to the blonde kid." She turned again, peering across the street at Michael. "I don't like him. I'm getting bad juju vibes. I heard they're –"

"Satanists. Yes, mom, we all know," Coraline sighed. Her mother still hadn't moved from her spying spot. Coraline released a loud groan and spun on her heel to head to her room. "God, can you stop?!"

Francesca snarled around her breath. Narrowing her eyes towards the new neighbors, she wished she hadn't used such a joking tone when talking about the bad vibes they gave her, because she was actually being serious. Francesca was never one to fully believe town gossip, but ... something was different about these guys. Maybe she was just overthinking.

The boy's eyes suddenly looked up at her, meeting her stare from across the street. Francesca closed the curtain immediately.

•••

A/N: I'M SORRY THESE ARE SO FUNNY

ALSO THE CRAZY TEENS!!!!!! ARE TALKING!!!!!!!!!!