Surrounded by the sweet and hearty scent of spices, Michael happily dug into a container of fresh cooked oxtails. After several days of constant bounties, he had decided to indulge while waiting for his next job. The well marinated meat filled his sense as he bit it off the bone and just sank into the warm atmosphere. 

This small eatery had caught his eye a few times when he raced back and forward between several of his jobs. It was rather nondescript, but when his windows were down the smell always filled up his car and made his mouth water. Now he finally had a job in the town and a reason to stop by for lunch.

Inconspicuously, he sat at the wooden bar, his back towards the door as the sound of rushing cars and fast conversation blended with the lively music that blasted from the radio. Several fans struggled to fight off the heat but constantly lost against the sunshine and hot kitchen. At least in the little open-air place, the strong ocean breeze could cut through as it rustled the green and gold wind chimes that hung over the register. Every so often a gust would make the Jamaican flag that hung proud on the wall flutter and sway as it nearly caught the collection of family photos that sat next to it.

Even if only a few could fit in the shop, there was constant foot traffic that came through to get a generously stuffed Styrofoam container of food before finding a place to eat outside. At the moment a group of older men sat on the curb and talked about an upcoming visit from their relatives as they clicked their tongues and happily ate.

It was easy to get absorbed in the cheerful beat of life. Though even as Michael enjoyed it, he felt a seed of discontent as he palmed his cracked phone.

Still no reply.

It had been two days since he put up his ad. Normally, in a modern setting, they would have been in contact within a day. An itch grew in his chest as he put his phone down and focused on eating. That bastard was probably just fucking around. The thought helped him calm down as he aggressively bit into a piece of fragrant meat.

"He's probably doing something stupid like buying a plane or taking over a company." Half muttered, Michael found a strange peace at the idea of his husband doing silly rich things to waste his time. It was better than the alternative.

A moment of panic washed over him, as he did a quick check. While he was not sure what his Developer settings were at, he could still cast out a net to check for his partner's presence. He had done it earlier, but his anxiety made him check again.

While it might not be local, he did feel Alexander's signature in this world. It was a familiar feeling that made Michael smile as he let out a sigh.

"Yea, he's probably fucking around."

Suddenly his phone went off as he quickly grabbed it only to see that it was from his current bounty. He fought off a wave of disappointment as he picked up the call.

In between mouthfuls, he arranged a meeting location with them a few minutes' walk away. Like that their quick call ended. He closed his food container and gave the gentleman behind the counter a nod before heading out.

The spot they had agreed on was in a small public park. On a bench shaded under two large oak trees, Michael finished off his food and waited. To tell the truth he was surprised that they had called him. While he had accepted their bounty through the Organization, Michael had felt that they did not seem completely convinced of their own problem. Not that he blamed them.

How many people would believe it if someone claimed they were being harassed by a mythical creature? Even if the Hunter Organization was well organized and managed, it still took a lot for an average person to get their head wrapped around the supernatural.

So, he sat and fiddled with his phone until he finally caught sight of an older couple who wander into the park.

They looked like classic snowbirds, though it seemed a little out of season for them as it was already deep into the summertime. Either way from light striped polos to khaki capris, they looked right out of the Leisureville catalog. Michael actually felt a bit bad for setting the meeting spot outside as it felt like being in the hot sun was probably not the best for their health.

Since Michael was sitting at their designated spot, they approached him as he stood up.

"Hunter?"

He nodded calmly and shook the man's hand. "At your service. Mr. and Mrs. Miller correct?"

"Yes." The woman looked relief as if she was afraid he wouldn't show up. Trust him lady, he needed the cash. Her husband remained skeptical though as Michael pulled out his Hunters' ID.

"Ah, here's my ID just to confirm." He also pulled up the bounty acceptance email on his phone as an added confirmation. "I know it seems odd, but I am legitimate. So, let's talk about your pest problem."

Given their older age, Michael convinced them to talk at a slow cafe close by. Under the shaded patio, hanging baskets of wild purple and blue flowers added a natural beauty to the repurposed house. A local artist had painted a colorful grove scene onto the red side panel, making the café stick out among the newer buildings due to its breezy charm. With only a few other patrons spread across the wide porch they easily found a calm spot and ordered a few drinks before talking.

"It's just recently gotten worse."

Michael nodded along. As they described their problem, he acted like he was diligently taking notes. It was probably a good thing they weren't able to see the scribbled filled notepad. "So, this has been going on for a long while?"

"About 2 years." Mrs. Miller replied, her face etched with exhaustion.

"Is it only in your house down here?"

"No, it follows us no matter which house we're in."

"Have you sought out help before?" If this had been going on for 2 years why were they just now seeking assistance? Michael looked over at Mr. Miller, but he seems reluctant to speak as his wife kept going.

"It used to not be a lot of trouble. In fact, we didn't even know it existed until recently." Mrs. Miller added as she took a sip of her iced coffee.

"What changed?"

"Well, before it was small things like a broken plate or spoiled milk. I always thought it was bad luck or the grandkids. However, in the last few day we actually saw it. At first, I thought it was a neighborhood cat that had broken in. But with the lights on, I could only describe it as a little black devil with glowing gold eyes. After that I couldn't stay in the house any longer."

"Did it do anything different?" The context clues were enough for Michael to figure out what their pest was. It was a classic fae beast, a boggart. These creatures did not vary their destructive nature much. Mostly it would cause trouble in the house, spoil milk, break items and stalk their victims wherever they went. They were not bound to a physical location but instead a family. However, it is weird for an old couple to just randomly pick one up.

"I didn't want to return to the house. But Harold insisted, saying I was hysterical. But when we got back, ah." She let out a slight sob as Harold looked at her. His harden expression soften as he put a hand on his wife's shoulder and picked up the story.

"It ate our dog."

Michael blinked a few seconds and suppressed a laugh. That was bad.

"My poor Sapphire." Mrs. Miller sobbed.

"Besides from eating it, the damn thing left the remains laying in the middle of the hall." Harold added his face clouded with disgust. "Cursed beast."

While Boggarts were mischievous and troublesome it was rare for them to straight up kill a creature. That was the first piece of information that interested Michael as he put away his notebook. "Alright, I think I have a grip on your situation. And I'm happy to say I can help."

"Really?" Mrs. Miller looked at him with red eyes, her light makeup slightly smudged.

"Yes. As for the price, the agency should have given you a quote, right?"

"hmpf." Mr. Miller nodded. "$150 was what they told us."

"If there are no objection to the price, I take half upfront and then the other half once the problem has been confirmed as solved." Michael said it easily, but he could see the small struggle in Harold's eyes that said he wanted to haggle. Not that Michael minded, but the old man would lose out if he tried. Michael had cut his teeth on far harder bargainers, so an old human from a fragmented realm was not going to win. But when confronted with his wife's sorrow, he held his tongue and just nodded.

"Yes."

---

With a crisp $75 in his pocket, Michael tailed the couple to their house in one of the many carbon copy retirement communities that filled Florida. The same white concrete block houses filled his vision as he pulled in behind them at a small house that featured a colorful blue mosaic on the outer wall. The pop of color nearly blinded him, as he gave credit to the couple for spicing things up. Also the plastic flamingo chilling by itself in the lawn was a cute little touch.

There was something jarring about the idea of fae activities happening in such a mundane place. But it would be more amazing if there wasn't weird shit happening in these retirement communities.

Mrs. Miller left them and went to go talk with one of the neighbors while Mr. Miller let him in. He seemed far more comfortable with this creature as he showed Michael around the two-bedroom house and mentioned where they had seen the most activity at.

"Glenda saw it over here the other night." He pointed at the hallway junction that started in the white cabinet kitchen and led into the den. Michael looked around and saw a small cabinet door that blended in with the wall. At the same time, he looked at the different locations of the air conditioning vents.

"What was left of Sapphire was here." It was down the hall that separated the two bedrooms, a slightly off colored mark marred the white carpet. A reminder of the gore they had walked in on. Michael looked around and saw a vent close by. As they finished the tour, Michael stopped Harold and finally asked.

"You seem pretty comfortable with this creature Mr. Miller."

The old man just looked at him blandly, his hands rested in his short's pockets. A clunky watch was the only accessory on his wrist as he took one hand out and rubbed his chin. "It doesn't bother me much."

"How did you come to find out about the Hunter Organization?" It was not like they advertised.

"A friend of mine had a bit of a problem in his apartment block a few years back. Something about a ghost or something along that line. They sent you folks in to clear it out. He happened to remember the name and mentioned it to me when I told him about our special circumstances." It seemed logical, but something still did not sit right in Michael's stomach.

Boggarts did not just form out of thin air. They normally were offended house spirits twisted by the need for revenge. That was why they followed families rather than remained tied to a single house location. Still they did not normally kill things. How pissed could the creature be? On top of that, how could they have not noticed a house spirit around?

Michael just observed him a little longer before giving a pleasing smile. "Alright, I'll deal with it now. If you don't mind Mr. Miller, I'll need you to stand on the porch while I handle the creature."

"Why?" Of course Mr. Miller wouldn't want to leave some supposed supernatural hunter in his house alone. But since this boggart was potentially violent there was no guarantee it would not attack the old man.

"When I draw out the creature there is a high chance it will be violent and attack anything it views as a threat. As a professional, I can handle it. But I fear you might become a target." For a moment Michael dropped his charming act as his voice grew serious and a danger light glinted in his eyes. The look was enough to make the old man heed his words and leave the house without any argument.

Now alone in the house, Michael stood in the archway between the kitchen and den and listened to the soft rattle of the air conditioner. Time seemed to drag out as he just listened, getting a feel for the house. There did not seem much space for a creature to hide as he came up with a solid 3 guesses. With that he pulled out a small bag from his backpack along with his well-used iron bowie knife.

When a low thud interrupted the continuous noise of the AC, he began to work. Everywhere there was an AC vent he laid a circle of salt until six rings dotted the house's floor. That done, he returned to AC unit in the house. The cabinet he had noticed earlier opened to reveal the large piece of machinery that diligently went about its duties. He placed a jar on the lip of the cabinet and began to open up the main unit to find the intake. Inside the jar was a fine mix of powered salt and iron, perfect for scaring a fae beast as he watched it get sucked up by the unit.

Closing the cabinet, Michael began a count down.

He did not even get past six when he heard the clatter of a metal vent cover hitting the floor along with thick fleshy feet. Howls of anguish soon followed.

Rushing into the den, he prepared his dagger as he looked at the ugly fleshy thing that stood before him. Its long-jagged claws dug into the white carpet as it crouched on all fours like a deformed rat swallowed a fat frog. A light smoke came from the pads of its feet where it had hit the salt ring. As it saw him, the boggart limped to the side, its movements restricted by injury and the circle.

Hateful yellow eyes glared at him as he approached, but it had nowhere to run.

"Look, don't be like that. It's a job." Michael hummed and reached over to pick up the creature by the scruff. The skin felt disgusting under his fingers, like a piece of rotten flesh, soft, squishy, and slick. It made it hard for Michael to keep a grip as it wriggled and managed to slip loose from his hand. Landing outside of the circle the creature quickly took off as Michael followed

When it slid under the wooden coffee table, the boggart threw a spell at him. It felt like a curse as it weakly bounced off Michael. The poor thing looked at him a bit confused before throwing another few at him only to watch them all fizzle out. Michael took advantage of this and went to grab the creature again when it turned invisible.

Quickly it ran off down the hall, unaware that Michael would see its little squat black form perfectly fine against the white carpet.

As if locked onto a specific target the boggart jumped into the closet with Michael cautiously behind. Even though it seemed simple, he did not know what the creature was looking for in there.

Opening the closet with one hand, he kept his knife at the ready for any sudden attack. Before him was a daunting wall of old people clutter piled high in the small walk in closet. Slowly he pulled out box after box until he came across an old box precariously perched on the edge of the closet's shelf. He grabbed at it and the boggart jumped at him from the shadow. The intention was clear as the little thing aimed at his face. Michael barely pulled back in time.

In the next moment it disappeared again, teleporting back to the vents only to fall on to the salt ring in the hallway. He followed and this time he took out a small iron chain. It looked relatively frail, but when against small fry fae, it was as strong as titanium.

He whipped it at the foot of the boggart and he quickly reeled it in as it hissed and screamed. Before he could grab it though, a china plate flew in and hit him in the head. Momentarily disoriented, the boggart to slip free.

A bit annoyed by this ongoing chase, Michael followed, careful not to cause any more destruction as they wound up in the kitchen. The little thing thought to grab a knife and tried to threaten his ankles with its jittery stabs.

"You stop that." Michael kicked at it, trying to get the knife as it tried to use a mix of levitating items and sharp blade to ward him off.

"I said stop." His voice picked up in irritation as a metal bowl hit him in a head. The little shit also got a swing at his ankle and cut his new jeans.

"Stop." The word was sharp as Michael slammed his foot down and the floating items clamored to the ground. A hint of shadow licked at Michael's boot as the boggart froze. Earlier it had just thought a silly human had caused it trouble and burnt its butt, but now it felt like could barely keep up its knife. The flight instinct won out as the creature ran out of the kitchen and Michael stabilized his mood.

Tired of giving chase, he whipped at the boggart's ankles before it could leave the kitchen. Satisfied with his catch he had just dragged the creature back when a joyful ding filled the air.

 

A/N

This ends my mass update. Now I’ve got to catch up on everything I have edited. I’ll probably put chapter 6 up on Friday and then return to a 2-3 times a week chapter update schedule until I end out this arc. Then I might take a week break to play catch up.

Also, South Florida is literally an old people capital. If I drive about 5 minutes away from my house, there are about three 50 and above communities immediately and they are all the same white or pale colored buildings. It’s definitely…interesting. Half are from the North and snowbirds, so they leave during the summer but more recently they have been sticking around all year round making traffic constantly hell. With the polar vortex going on in the north I don’t really blame them, the weathers been great recently. Oh, also Corona so flying back up isn’t a great option for the elderly. Alright, so ends my Florida corner update. I should just call this arc my love letter to Florida.