Whatever it was, and there was no calling it human, had soon wriggled itself free to its waist. The furry arms faded to hardened skin, that in turn became nothing but sharp, blackened claws. The chest itself was covered in that same fur down to its breast, where it became nothing but oily exoskeleton. Soon it held on to the ceiling by only its clawed feet, hanging like a bat, wild hair flowing, blank eyes staring.

And then wings flipped open from its back. Not quite moth, not quite dragonfly. They were elegantly horrifying, tattered and hairy and glistening.

I lunged for my bag as it kicked off.

As soon as it came within range I swung  the backpack as hard as I could. With the weight of my laptop inside, the  moth -demon, monster, anything seemed more appropriate- found itself flung across the room and into the wall with a crunch. I whipped around for the staircase.

A second shadow played in the light, with long feathered wings and the same pointed smile. With no options, I bolted for the clawed door and slammed it shut after me, breathing heavy in the darkness. The room was just a small part of the floor; surely something had to be here.

Wool brushed my face.

Closet.

A regular closet. One with peacoats and umbrellas and gloves on a back shelf above the wooden dowel.

I couldn't hear myself swear over the screeching outside the door. The hinges shook and rattled. In the thin seam of light at my feet big strips of wood and paint piled against the door as it clawed its way in. The handle jiggle back and forth violently. I held onto it with both hands and weighed my options. Quick as I could I yanked the clothes off the dowel and ripped it off its pegs. Holding it out like a spear (because my instinct to swing it like a bat didn't exactly work in a coat closet), I turned the knob and pushed it open.

Silence.

Using the edge of the rod, I gave it a further nudge. The door creaked out across the wood shavings.

"You need to come out, dear," a cool, stern voice called.

"Marge?" I said, gripping the dowel so hard my knuckles were white. "What the hell was that?"

"The moth."

"I know you're old and maybe you can still see a bit, but that is not a moth. You need to call an exterminator for that kind of thing." I paused. "Maybe a terminator." 

"She's gone. Please come out. I promise you're safe." I didn't move, not about to fall for that horror movie kind of stupidity. "If you want to survive, you have to come out. You can't stay there. This is a curse, Bryn. It's going to get a lot worse if you're here after nightfall."

Normally I wasn't a believe in the supernatural an all that, but I was born with a brain, and that brain was telling me that until I had reason to prove otherwise, I needed to exit my safe space and get the heck out of this place.

"Alright," I called, easing my way through the door.

"Ah, I should warn you-"

Standing on the desk was a white, furry creature like the moth, but she was softer on the edges, with feathered wings and pointed ears and catlike blue eyes. her hair was a mane of silver, windswept and yet somehow untangled. She had paws -not talons, not dangerous- that she clutched like hands to her waist.

"We're fairies," she said.

"A fairy?" I asked. She nodded, dusting off the thick fur on her chest. "But you're so ugly," I blurted out, covering my mouth. "I mean, I'm sorry. I'm-"

"And what would you look like after ten centuries?" Marge set her paws on her hips and tapped one foot on the desk. "The bloody moth and I are the only ones out of retirement. I could be down in the islands with my sisters right now if it weren't for her stubbornness at keeping this one curse unresolved."

"Why do you care?" I asked, brandishing the dowel before me. If she was intimated or amused by that, I couldn't tell; it was difficult to read expressions on that feline face.

"This spell, this is all she has left of her magic. We couldn't break it, not even at the height of our powers. It was made for a human, and it has to be ended by one."

"In an upstate Pennsylvania library."

She shrugged a fluffy shoulder. "The castle fell to ruin many years ago. Her magic is tied to the spindle downstairs, not the location. The magic occupies its own space in time. Since the spindle is currently on own to this university, that is where the curse dwells."

I bit my lip, not too sure how much of this I was sold on. Nevertheless, I didn't want to be near a curse or that moth. "So what's your job?" I asked.

"A fairy cannot kill another fairy. I'm here to find someone who can."

"No."

"You'll be rewarded handsomely."

"If I live." I frowned. I eyed my backpack. While I couldn't see the laptop, I was fairly certain it was broken. I'd flung it pretty hard, and I'd broken phones and laptops with a lot less force (and surrounded by a lot more protection). "What kind of a reward?"

"A prince, dear." She clapped her hands together, bouncing on her dainty toes. "A prince! I wouldn't care if the old bat was hanging onto a strawberry blight curse. There's a life at stake, a life that has been trapped for all eternity until a hero comes along and sets him free. We've been waiting a long time for you."

Not exactly inspiring words, but my parents had raised me to help people where and when I can. I tapped the dowel on the ground thoughtfully. After a moment, I brushed my braid over my shoulder and asked "What do I have to do?"

"Find him and escape. That's it." She brandished a paw at the staircase and fluttered up toward the ceiling. Stone and rail blackened and twisted, until only rotting planks and weaving brambles led the way downstairs.

Swinging the dowel for practice, I glanced back at the white fairy. "I don't get a sword or anything magical to help me?"

Her laugh was a dry wheeze as I set my feet on the ancient planks and descended into tangled vines and darkness.