It was past midnight when the raven and the cat materialized from the dark. Materialized is the correct term, for if you had been outside at such a late hour or had peeked from your window, you would've seen the animals emerge from the darkness as if it were a curtain. Their black feathers and fur glistening in the street lamps. You would have also noticed how odd the pairing was. The raven was not flying from the cat, nor was the cat chasing after the raven. They were both moving as if they were on a stroll together, the raven hovering slightly above the cat.
Once they had exited from the night, they both stopped at the end of the street, with the raven landing next to the cat. They stood there for a moment, as if they were trying to figure out what to do next.
"So," the cat finally said to the raven, "we're here aren't we?"
"Patience, Elvira," the raven said to her companion. "We should wait first." The raven spoke with a voice that was deep, smooth, and confident. The voice of a woman who had done her fair share of waiting before.
"Wait for what?" Elvira said impatiently. She scratched her ear with her paw.
A bright light came from off to the side, a car was speeding right towards them. The raven flew with a caw and landed on the nearest light post. Elvira arched her back and hissed, her eyes filled with fear, the car honked, swerved, but hit her nonetheless.
"That," the raven said and flew down to her companion, her talons hitting the ground with a righteous click.
The cat's body lay limp for a moment, then there were the sounds of small cracks as her bones reformed inside herself. She blinked and got up. "Can't believe you made me waste a life on one of those things," Elvira shook her head. "Why do they have such ugly machines here?"
"Because they don't have magic here, darling," she sighed, tenderly. "How many lives do you have left now?"
"One," Elvia grumbled.
"Oh,"The raven paused, embarrassed by how flippant she had been. "Then we'll be more cautious from now on, won't we?" She looked down the street, left and then right. "Now, I believe the coast is clear."
The raven placed her wings in front of her and bowed her head into them. If you were to gaze once again from the window or the street, you would've been so shocked that you might have thought you were dreaming. Yes, two talking animals were alarming enough, but what was even more alarming was that the raven was growing. The bird grew to the height of an average adult, her wings wrapped around her body, her feathers swished as if hundreds of dresses were being unfurled together. The feet of the bird turned into heels with pointed toes. Her wings grew pale hands with black nails and her feathers became a black dress. The head of the bird had changed to a woman's with skin the color of paper and hair and lips as dark as the night sky. She wore a small hat that had a black feather sticking out of it with a veil that draped on the side of her face. In her hand, she held a broom. The transformation was complete and there, standing next to the cat on an ordinary street, was Mrs. Macabre.
"Show off," Elvira scoffed.
"Now, now, my dear," Mrs. Macabre smiled, "there are plenty of people who can turn into animals, but not too many animals who can talk."
"Let's just get this over with," the cat eyed her companion's broom. "You might want to change that. I don't believe people here are accustomed to walking with brooms down streets."
Mrs. Macabre looked down at her broom. It was a beautifully ornate thing: Dirty blonde straw from the fear fields, a long black handle made of wood from a hemlock tree with symbols and hieroglyphics carved into it, a skull of a raven sat nicely at the top of it.
"Yes," she placed a hand to her chin, "yes, I do suppose you are right," there was a moment of silent contemplation, then she exclaimed, "I've got it!"
Mrs. Macabre stood next to her broom and began to twirl it with two fingers. It quickly took a life of its own and began to spin without her assistance. As it spun, the broom slowly changed, it's straw disappeared and was replaced by large bat wings. The broom stopped spinning and it became apparent that there wasn't any bat wings at all, but the canopy of a black umbrella.
"Better?" She asked.
"I believe so," Elvira said, walking forward. "Now come on. If we don't get back home soon, we'll be stuck here till tomorrow night. You wouldn't want to stay in the sun now would you?
Mrs. Macabre shuddered at the thought. Where she and Elvira came from, they were never bothered by the cruel heat of an unforgiving sun. The closest their world came to daylight was a dreary overcast.
As they walked down the neighborhood street, Mrs. Macabre's heels clacked against the asphalt like talons. She had hoped that the sound would not disturb any of the residents from their slumber or a bad case of insomnia. Though she had visited this world countless times, she had never been pleased by how plain the houses were. They just sat there next to each other like perfect white squares in their perfectly manicured lawns, with their perfectly straight driveways. There were no jagged lines, dead flowers, or a hint of black to be found on any of them. The houses didn't even move! How primitive. The only resemblance this world had to her own was the current darkness and a pleasant mist that hung faintly in the air. She smiled at how grim it felt .
"Do you see anything?" She asked the cat.
"Not particularly," Elvira said as they walked, staring at each house. "Or, at least not what we're looking for."
"I hope no one sees us" Mrs. Macabre said, annoyed. "If we run into another girl scout, I swear to Hades-"
"Wait," Elvira stopped dead in her tracks.
"Yes?" Mrs. Macabre perked up a bit.
Elvira nodded to her. They both walked towards a house, the damp grass squeaking under their feet as they quietly grew closer. A loud bark came from behind the fence next to the house, making them stop.
"Dogs," Elvira hissed, hair standing up. "Why do so many of them have to have dogs?"
"Patience, my sweet," Mrs. Macabre reassured her, "they can be easily distracted." She tilted her umbrella up and a piece of straw grew out of the tip of it. She held it between two fingers, gazing at it intensely. The bit of straw slowly turned into a white bone. She threw it over the fence and the dog stopped barking, the thumping of its paws could be heard running across the yard.
"Thanks," Elvira sighed.
"You're welcome," Mrs. Macabre smiled. "Where are they?"
"Up there," Elvira tilted her head towards the second floor of the house. Another black window stared back at them like all the rest.
"Ah, yes," Mrs. Macabre moved closer, almost to the front porch. "Come on up, then," she gestured her shoulder to Elvira. The cat hopped on and sat next to her head, with both her hands on the handle of the umbrella, Mrs. Macabre flew upwards.
They reached the window and hovered in front of it. From the glow of the moonlight, Mrs. Macabre could see two beds occupied by two girls who looked almost exactly alike. Their room was decorated with fake spider webs and bats, posters of The Nightmare Before Christmas and other spooky films hung here and there. A collection of horror books were placed neatly on a shelf in the corner.
"Oh, I like them very much, indeed," Mrs. Macabre whispered, "but do you think they require our assistance?"
Elvira's eyes glowed the color of glow-in-the-dark paint, and stared at the children. "They would do well back home," she said, distracted, as if she was looking for something.
Mrs. Macabre nodded in agreement.
"They are not liked by others," she continued. "But that's because they possess qualities that more. . . narrow minded folk do not see."
"Is that a yes?"
"It is," Elvira's eyes returned to their normal, darker green shade.
"Wonderful then let us- " she gasped.
"What is it?" Elvira asked, she squinted in the window and saw, the clock on their nightstand, glowing with the same green as her eyes had been just moments before: It was ten minutes till the hour was up.
"Blast!" Mrs. Macabre said, then quickly flew back down. Elvira jumped off and they went rushing off of the front lawn and into the street.
"I told you we should have left the manor earlier!. You're always so-" Elvira panted
"Oh, do shut up, darling," Mrs. Macabre said as her umbrella transformed into a broom again. They reached the black area from which they had entered.
Elvira had noticed her companion had stopped. "Well," she said impatiently, "come on, then!"
"You stay here," Mrs. Macabre said.
"What?" Elvira said, shocked.
"I need you to keep an eye on the children, dear," Mrs. Macabre said keeping her measured tone.
"Why?"
"Because we want to be certain that these are the correct children."
"But-"
"Would you care for me to jog your memory on what happened last time?" Mrs. Macabre's face was still as stone and her eyes were as sharp as knives. Elvira knew what that expression meant, she had seen it in her companion's darkest moments. It was an expression of utmost certainty.
"Yes," Elvira sighed. "You're right."
"Good kitty," Mrs. Macabre smiled and scratched Elvira behind her right ear, her favorite spot. "In the meantime, have some dinner," she removed another straw from her broom and tossed it up in the air. By the time it had hit the ground, it had transformed into a mouse. It squeaked at the sight of the cat and ran away.
Elvira glared at it with hungry eyes. "Thank you," she looked back up at Mrs. Macabre, who had taken her raven shape again. "But don't do this again."
"Nevermore," said the raven and she flew into the darkness.
"Hilarious," Elvira said and ran down the street, looking for the mouse.