The Foot Fae

There was a long-standing stereotype about goth girls and stinky feet. Something about all the black, the lack of socks (or the really thick ones that oven-baked feet like chips), the pale skin, which truthfully, seemed irrelevant, but it was there, too.

But like a stopped clock is right twice a day, even stereotypes can be true. Some, but not all. In Tracy Lay's case, the feet thing was.

She was a confirmed and proud goth. Black makeup, natural black hair, black clothes, black nails, black eyes (no contacts), enough black to make Batman rethink his life choices.

Tying everything together were her signature black boots. They climbed up her deathly pale thighs, bearing more spikes than a hedgehog, chains, and laces so thick, they could be used as garrotes. They were leather, sturdy, platformed with wedge heels, and could crack stone with a single kick (as she demonstrated more than a few times).

They were also actual sweatboxes for her feet. Ever since getting them, she wore them everywhere refusing to take them off. Owing to their nature, she couldn't wear socks with them, even the super-thin kind; they wouldn't get on her feet otherwise. The only time they ever left her feet was in gym class.

Everyone with brains and a sense of smell knew that when that time came, it was best to clear out as much as was allowed. When the heavy boots fell, they ushered with them a smell. A muggy, swampy scent like burnt Camembert and stale tortillas. One whiff could knock out the entire locker room, and after a few "incidents", they learned to bolt. The rancid smell could strip paint (she'd seen it happen more than once), and brought tears to the eyes of any who lingered too long. The nickname of "Stinkfoot" had been branded onto her before she even knew it.

This was something she took issue with, especially since it was her senior year. It was hard to live the goth lifestyle and strut the attitude when all people knew you for was having the worst-smelling feet in the school. Probably the town. She'd rather have them running away from her in fear, not because of the odor of her feet.

And so she came up with a plan. It wasn't the best plan, and it wasn't exactly dripping with intelligence, but short of buying stock in an odor-eater company, it was her best option.

-/-/-/-/-

Like most goths, Tracy was into the occult. She had almost encyclopedic knowledge of all manner of urban legends, mythical creatures, and things that go bump in the night. And just as many books on the subject to refer to. That was how she spent her Friday night after classes let out and she made her way back home. A major plus of her stinky feet was that she always got a bus seat to herself.

When she got home, she found a note on the kitchen table saying her parents were off for the long weekend for a vacation. All the more perfect; she'd rather be alone while she did this.

Tracy raced upstairs to her room and practically threw her door open, tossing her back in the corner. She always felt most comfortable in her room, with the black-painted walls and blackout curtains, ensuring as little light as possible. Clicking on her lamp and setting the brightness low, she went to her bookshelf and plucked one book in particular, Beginner's Guide to Fae Summoning Vol. 1. She got it a while back in the bargain bin of her favorite bookstore but never took a super close look at it... until now.

Supposedly it would tell her how to summon a fae of her choosing. If done right, it would grant her a blessing. If not... well, she didn't want to think about that. She knew how fae could be when they were wronged or their rules were broken.

"Okay, let's see... summoning for love... summoning for revenge... bingo, summoning for personal problems." She thumbed through the book until she got to a section involving personal items, and then to a subsection involving "removal of impurities."

"Does foot stink count?" she mumbled allowed as she read. The ritual was simple; all she had to do was draw a rune in the northernmost corner of her room, place the objects in need of purification in them, light three black candles (of which she had dozens) in the other three corners, leave the room for two hours, and come back.

"That's it?" she spoke aloud. "That's a lot simpler than I thought. I figured there'd be something involving acorns or leaves or putting a slice of bologna on my windowsill." Shrugging, she got to work.

Drawing the rune was easy, even if the end result was a little wobblier than the example in the book. The candles even moreso. After placing them in glass holders (no sense in curing her foot stink problem if she burnt the house down), she set them in their corners.

"Moment of truth." Tracy said, unlacing her boots. "Whatever thing gets summoned better have a strong constitution stat..."

When the final lace was done, Tracy pulled off her boot, her ears tingling at the familiar squishy, wet pop of her foot being freed. Sweat glistened down her legs, whatever didn't stick between her toes to slide down her sole and collect into a small puddle beneath her foot. A visible cloud of yellowish-green mist bloomed up from her foot, filling the room.

Had Tracy's parents been home, they'd have recognized the scent immediately and retreated to their room in an effort to hide and keep their noses safe. Being used to the smell, it didn't do much apart from just register. That same, oddly comforting cheese and corn chip smell that was hers and hers alone.

"Man, it's gonna be hard to say goodbye to this smell..." she thought forlornly, working on her other boot. As she set it down, she gripped her foot and hissed slightly. Much as she adored her boots, the microwave-like effect they had on her feet was apparent. Her pale soles were flushed bright red and so hot to the touch, she wouldn't be surprised if she could toast bread on them.

"I wonder..." she shook her head. "Nah, no time."

Scooping up the boots and walking through their fragrant effluvium, Tracy set them on the rune and set her phone alarm for an hour. She stepped out, stretched and sighed. "Well, what do I do for an hour?" She pondered for a moment, and an idea struck her.

Running to the kitchen, she pulled out a slice of bread and sat on a chair, sandwiching it between her feet. She watched in astonishment as gentle cracking sounds echoed in the kitchen. The bread grew stiff between her feet, and in mere seconds, hardened. Tracy pulled her feet apart, and the bread now sported a golden-brown coloring and a rough, crispy texture.

"Holy shit." she whispered, holding up the piece of foot-toasted bread. "This is like a goddamn superpower. I wonder if I could make money off of this. ... Nah, probably not. Who the hell would be into something like that?"

She set aside the bed and brushed the crumbs off her feet. "Might as well play a game or something."

Tracy let the time pass by as she tapped away on a mobile game. She was torn; she wanted her foot stink gone so people would be more scared of her and not her feet, but she grew up with that smell for years, and would be sad to see it go. She lamented that she couldn't bottle it, but what's done was done.

Her alarm going off pulled her from her musings and she got to her feet. "Well, time to see if that ritual actually did anything."

As she headed upstairs, a sense of dread overcame her. She couldn't quite place it, but it chilled her to her core. All the more shocking since summer was steadfast approaching and she was covered in black.

"The hell... it's like winter in here..." It grew colder the closer she got to her room, and by the time she was at the door, she was practically freezing.

Tracy opened the door, and screamed.

She'd expected things to have worked out like in fairy tales with shoe cobbling elves. That her boots would be magically fixed, free of stench forever, and deep down, she was also hoping whatever appeared would tidy up her room, too.

The faint light from her candles illuminated the thing in the corner bent over her boots. It had a large, reddish-brown round body and four small limbs protruding from it with five tiny pads like fingers. A large nose jutted out from where its head would be--at least, that's what Tracy figured--and two sets of ghoulish yellow eyes rested atop the bumps of the nose. On its rear were four similar limb-like protrusions, wagging to and fro like dog tails.

It was gripping her boots like its life depended on it, its nose/head buried in one of them and sniffing up the scent like a vacuum cleaner. But the instant Tracy entered her room, it stopped and faced her, its eyes glowing in the darkness.

"What the hell!?" she exclaimed, falling backwards in shock.

The thing's eyes narrowed, and a seam appeared along the bridge of its nose before splitting, revealing a mouth filled with more teeth than she could count, and a tongue twice the length of its body. As it approached her, Tracy could see nose-like nubs along its tongue, contracting as they sniffed.

"No, no, no fucking way! This isn't real!" Tracy scampered to her feet and leapt forward, yanking the door shut and sitting against it just as the thing leapt at her. It slammed against the door, and seconds later it began pounding and scratching against it.

"Oh, my god." whimpered the goth. "I summoned a demon. My parents are gonna be so pissed. What do I do!?"

She barely had time to wrack her brain for ideas when she felt something cold and slimy on her hand. She looked down to see a reddish-brown slime flowing from the gap in her door, and gasped as two sets of yellow eyes appeared in the liquid.

"Oh, FUCK!" Tracy scampered towards the stairs and tumbled down, hissing in pain as she banged her knee against the handrail. The thing had reformed and was hot on her heels, snarling and hissing. She ran to the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the block. She didn't know what it would do against a fae the size of a mid-sized dog, but it was better than nothing. The thing slowly approached her, its long tongue weaving around, yellow eyes trained on her.

It crouched down and looked like it was about to attack her, when it paused, it's long tongue pointing upwards to the table. Allowing herself a cursory glance, Tracy saw the tongue was drawn directly towards the piece of foot-toasted bread she hadn't thrown away.

It was an insane, ludicrous idea, but it was the only one she had apart from trying to stab a fae. Keeping an eye on the creature, she set down the knife and picked up the bread slice, which was still imprinted with her foot and smell. She broke off a piece and tossed it to the creature. It practically leapt up, catching the piece in its mouth and crunched down.

It stamped its feet in a happy little dance, its eyes and mouth curling upward as its four tails waggled.

"Oooh... like that, huh?" Allowing herself a smile, Tracy broke off another piece and tossed it at the creature. It crunched it down, and this time let out a sound like crunching gravel and a concierge bell.

"Wow. I am... as relieved as I am stunned." She broke off a larger piece and threw it at the creature, who gulped it down. Its tails were wagging so much, they blurred, and it did another happy dance, this time rearing up on its hind legs.

"You're... actually kinda cute. Even though you tried to kill me." Holding onto the bread, Tracy stepped out from behind the table and started making her way upstairs. The sounds of delicate footsteps made her turn. The creature was following her, that same smile on its face, tails still wagging. "You're... not gonna kill me or something when my back is turned, are you?"

It shook its head and let out another yipping sound.

"'Kay..."

She went back to her room, noting it was steadily rising back in temperature. But the smell of her boots remained. After blowing out the candles, she grabbed the book and looked through the ritual again. "I swear I did everything right. I drew the rune, lit the candles left for an hour..." She blinked, rereading a certain part in particular. "Two hours. Son of a bitch." She turned the page. "'If the ritual is performed incorrectly, there is no need to worry...' well, that's good." She turned the page again. "'... unless you are directly seen by the creature.' Fucking, that should really be in bold print!"

She kept reading. Being seen by the creature would, in most cases, be a death sentence ("So you DID try to kill me!"), but Tracy managed to placate it. It was her luck that she had her fun with the bread; it was this creature's favorite meal. Reading further, she learned it was called a "Nohsibarkur", and in particular was drawn to feet, shoes, and foot smell. It originally meant to sniff up all of Tracy's foot smell from her boots and would've done so if left to its own devices, but her intrusion led to a different outcome.

"'If interrupted, the Nohsibarkur will attempt to kill any and all intruders. However, if placated, it will instead imprint itself upon the interloper and act as a faithful companion for the rest of their days!? WHAT!?" Tracy rounded on the Nohsibarkur, who let out another yip before scampering over to her feet and rubbing against her steaming soles. She was about to kick it away, but stopped. As freaky as it looked, it was soft to the touch, and it seemed happy and content to sniff at her feet. Where it would send others packing, the Nohsibarkur was reveling in it.

Smiling, Tracy kept reading. "'The Nohsibarkur will only be visible and audible to the summoner, and can be sustained on a diet consisting of scent-imbued articles of the summoner, as well as their scent directly, and foot sweat. Scent-imbued bread provides the best results.' Yeah, don't I know it..."

The fae kept sniffing her feet as she read, and kept so after she finished. "I guess... this isn't so bad. If this foot smell of mine doesn't offend at least one person... fae... dog-thing, that's something."

She leaned back and enjoyed the surprisingly heavenly feeling of air being drawn between her hot toes, her room being filled with the sound of the Nohsibarkur's eager sniffing.

"Plus, having a familiar is the gothiest thing ever..."

[END]