They'd told him. Everyone had told him. He hadn't believed them. And even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered. This apartment had been too good to pass up. In this part of town for that low a price, Will would have been an idiot to have said no. And besides, all buildings had their quirks. Roaches, rats, leaky pipes. He was used to all of that. But even he had to admit, he'd been a little confused when the landlord mentioned that the apartment above his housed a witch. At first, Will'd thought the man was speaking figuratively- like “Oh, fair warning, the woman above you is a right witch.” He'd met plenty of women like that, everyone had. But the older man seemed to sense this train of thought and added “I mean it. She's an actual witch.” Even so, he didn't buy it. Maybe she was one of those Wicca types he'd encountered in college, and the landlord was just old-fashioned and connected the two things. After a few weeks, and after meeting a few of the other people who lived in the building, however, Will was less certain. They all seemed to say the same thing whenever it came up - the woman in the apartment above his was a witch. He didn't buy it. Witches weren't real. They may as well have told him there was a vampire in the basement, it was the same thing to him. So when he opened his curtain this morning and spotted the young woman with the pointy black hat floating on a broom, Will was more than a little taken aback. In fact, he shut the curtain right away, thoroughly convinced he was seeing things. When he opened them again, she was still there, and she waved at him with a smile. Will waved back, more out of habit than anything else, even though his mind was screaming at him that there was a woman floating outside his window on a broom who clearly was dressed as a witch even if she looked to be in her mid-twenties rather than some ancient crone. It was all far too strange. Yet not nearly as strange as when she spoke. “Sorry to disturb you, but I live upstairs and I need your help. May I come in?” Unsure of what to make of any of this, but also not wanting to be rude- as well as under the belief that a witch could probably waltz right in if she wanted to, not needing to be invited like a vampire or anything, and that her asking was a good sign, he opened the window. And once he did, Will could only watch as the woman flew in on her broom like it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was. He'd never met a witch before, so how was he to know? Once she was inside, she slipped off the broom and stood in front of Will. She was shorter than him, even with the hat, and smiled at him happily. “Thank you.” “You're a witch” Will finally blurted out as if the realization had only now sunk in. The young woman nodded. “What tipped you off, the hat, the broom?” “Well, the whole floating outside my window was a dead giveaway... I just...” “Never met a witch before?” Will nodded. “Didn't anyone tell you I lived upstairs?” Much as he wanted to say that yes, countless people had told him, he didn't want to admit that he'd assumed they were all pulling his leg. Somehow such an admission seemed rude, and if she really was a witch, rudeness seemed like it would not end well for him. Even so, he was beyond curious. “Why do you live, I mean, why here?” The witch shrugged. “It's a nice part of town, and the rent isn't too high. Why not here?” Will had to give her that one. Yet he still couldn't wrap his head around this. Witches didn't exist, he knew that, didn't he? They were in books and movies and fairy tales, not in apartments and certainly not in his kitchen. Regardless of what his fellow tenants had said, things like this did not happen. People like this were not real. Or were they? It took everything he had not to reach out and poke her in the arm, just to make sure she was really and truly there and not some figment of his imagination. His unexpected guest noticed, and shook her head. “Let me guess, you don't believe in witches?” Will nodded. Without another word, the young woman opened her hand and within seconds a ball of fire appeared in her palm. Before Will could as much as react, the flame turned to ice, then light, and then she closed her hand and it was all gone. Were he more adept in knowledge of stagecraft or sleight of hand, perhaps he would have mentioned some of that, even though there did not seem to be any logical explanation for what he had just seen. And that wasn't accounting for the whole floating outside the window on a broom- a broom which he noticed had begun to sweep up his apartment. The witch's face turned red. “Sorry about that... He's a real stickler for tidiness.” She reached out and pulled the broom back, and though it was a wooden stick, someone Will swore it seemed offended that she had stopped it mid-sweep. This was all far too much to take, and Will plopped into one of his kitchen chairs, his mind trying in vain to make any of this make sense. This was not what he had expected to encounter this morning, let alone ever. And yet here it was. Or rather, here she was. “I know, it's a lot to take it if you aren't prepared...” the witch began. “Let's start over. I'm Clara.” He nodded. “Will.” “Nice to meet you,” Clara said as she pulled out one of the other chairs and sat down, her broom sliding over to stand beside her. Will still couldn't believe he was seeing that, even though it was less than a foot away. Brooms didn't move of their own accord either. Or at least, he'd never believed they did. “So, what can I do for you?” He said at long last, figuring the sooner he figured out why she was here, the sooner he could return to the real world- the one where witches were fictional, and not his neighbours. “Well, I didn't want to disturb you, seeing as we hadn't actually met... But no one else in the building likes me, and I need some help so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and introduce myself while also seeing if you could help me... I know, a little upfront, but I'm desperate.” Will nodded understandingly, even if he didn't actually understand a thing. He just wanted this to be over with. “What is it you need help with?” Clara sighed. “So there's this vampire who lives in the basement.”