'Willow, RUN!' Wilhelmina's voice broke as she shrieked, she appeared at the doorway, leaping onto the man's back and grabbing his shoulders, using all her strength to drag him backwards. She succeeded, he rattled down to the bottom on his stomach and they landed in a tangle. 'go upstairs and lock the door! GO!'
Young Will nodded and quickly obeyed, slamming the old door shut and pressing himself against it, jimmying the three rusty bolts at the top, bottom and middle shut. He panted hysterically, tears streaming down his cheeks, shaking with fear. He tangled himself up in his long pyjamas and rocked back and forth, keeping himself against the door at all times.
Through the door he could hear the loud shrieks of Wilhelmina and the man from the Elemental Court.
'You will not take him, you will not take my son!' she screeched,
'Aargh! Think, you stupid bitch! If this power does not kill us, it will kill him first, this power could overcome him at any time! His days could be limited!'
'Then they will not be spent with you!' There was the sound of several things breaking at once, Wilhelmina shrieked as she brought him down with her against the coffee table, back first.
After an hour, the fighting seemed to settle, nobody tried to climb the stairs, and Will was convinced that the man had left, the door slamming suddenly, downstairs filled with the sound of Wilhelmina's sobs. Will's younger self was curled on the ground against the door like a sleeping puppy, his own eyes were growing heavy as he mulled over what he had seen and heard, part of him beginning to wish that he had never left Wilhelmina alone.
But just as he was wondering what she was doing, where she was whilst he slept in a luxurious tent surrounded by friends; Will heard the singing.
He still wasn't alone.
'Close your mind to the Evil Eye, we'll chase you 'til you surely die. Forever cursed, all hope destroyed, for it's the death you can't avoid.'
The singing voice was female, soft and richly seductive. Cautiously, Will looked up, scanning the room across every darkened, dusty corner of the attic, searching for abnormalities. Eventually, he found the song's source sitting on the cot bed, where Will's younger self had stumbled into halfway through the night. Her slender, crossed legs peeked out from a long, black hooded cloak, the ankles spinning playfully and fishnet stockings seeming to mar her pale flesh. The dark hood concealed all of her face but her lips, painted bright red, and an odd curl of blonde hair falling out. One hand rested on her lap, the other ran a painted fingernail down sleeping Will's cheek, stirring him slightly with a strange caress. It was slow, yet the edge of her nail left a white line across his cheek, deepening until she drew a spot of blood.
She'd leant slightly over him, singing the haunting tune like it was a lullaby, one that spoke of curses and death. She seemed to sense Will's notice of her, and she sat straight.
'It's your fault, Willow,' she said softly, 'it's all your fault.'