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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted.

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on.

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie.

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers.

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her.

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand.

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom.

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!”

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

#going angst week 2021 #*jazz hands* I uh finally contributed #this is another interesting thing that just sorta happened #I was actually rereading and writing more for Side Effects when I realized that someone could follow the paper trail of the accident #which led me to a tiny lil GIW Investigator who blew Dannys secret wide open #which *then* led me to the tragedy of Maddie learning of her child's 'death' second hand but over a year after a fact #there's something about delayed tragedy... thinking everythings ok only to learn it hasn't been for a while #Love Mads but btw her an Jack shes the one who seems the more likely to take offense to her son's ghost haunting his own life #to keep playing along and pretending to be alive #him secretly being Phantom was the final straw #Both pretending to be Danny then *teasing* her when he saw her as a ghost #(obviously thats not the case but Maddie believes was Made To Believe it was)#Oh I wanted to strange Agent S this whole time typing #the blatant.... manipulation #Maddie may feel free to grieve now but her child's torment was only beginning #haha good times see ya

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-5: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

Behind the glass wall were several blurry figures busying around.

MC: This should be Team A's area.

Mya had suddenly called a few minutes ago to give me directions to the place I was supposed to report to.

I ran what I was going to say to everyone, in the form of an introduction, through my head once more before gently clearing my throat and opening the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Hello everyone, I'm—

Thunk!

The sound of metal heavily hitting the floor cut my words short as the handle of the door completely fell off.

MC: !?

Did I break it? No way! I broke the office's door on my first day here!?

I didn't quite know what to do for a while. One of the figures closest to the door turned slightly around at the noise.

He had a head full of spiky hair, like that of a hedgehog. He didn't spare even a glance at the door handle; instead, his gaze fell directly upon my person. He shot up from the seat of his workstation.

??: Yoooooou!!

MC: Sorry! It wasn't on purpose, I swear!

??: You're the newcomer that's supposed to be coming in today, right? Sister Zheng Lin, we've got an extra hand!

He excitedly yelled at the other end of the office.

This isn't quite turning out like how I imagined it to be...

Summoned by his yell, a plump woman speed-walked towards us. Her smile was friendly, but there was a sort of unconcealable exhaustion marring her features.

Zheng Lin: Hello. Welcome to Team A. I'm the leader, Zheng Lin.

MC: Hello. Um… I accidentally broke your door handle just now… Sorry…

??: Aw, that thing's been dead half a month ago. We just didn't have time to call someone down to fix it. Don't mind it, yeah?

??: C'mere. I'll bring you to your workstation. Your stuff looks pretty heavy. I'll take it for you, yeah?

He enthusiastically takes the office appliances I'd brought in from my hands and continues walking straight ahead.

Zheng Lin: That works too. I'll leave you to bring her around to meet the others then, Brother Mao. I'll come over once I'm finished up here.

I nodded, following after "Brother Mao".

Brother Mao: I'm Mao Ge, but you can call me Brother Mao! The best rock singer among all Designers here!

He grinned, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit. He then magicked out a rag from god-knows-where and quickly gave the table a wipedown.

Brother Mao: You were 2nd place in the contest, right? We all watched the broadcast; it was absolutely brilliant.

Brother Mao: Especially when you chose Director Qi of all people. Boy, that was a killer! How did you dare to pick him?

Brother Mao: Forget his face, even his breath alone is an icy sub-zero.

Brother Mao: Ever seen an iron tree bloom? I'd say even that's slightly more common than seeing Director Qi smile.

Brother Mao: I'm not talking about his cold smiles, of course. We see that way too often.

MC: Eh? … I just thought getting him to review my work was a rare chance that I couldn't pass up on.

Brother Mao: You go, girl! Looks like we've finally got a competent person in Team A! Feel free to ask me anything if you face any problems in the future! I've gotcha covered!

He grinned, patting himself on the chest to further emphasize his point. He'd already assembled and laid out all of my office appliances on the table at some point in our conversation.

Brother Mao: Alright, everyone! Put everything down. Let me introduce to you our new buddy, (Y/n)!

All the people around me nodded in greeting as Brother Mao introduced them to me one-by-one.

Brother Mao: The one dressed in a Cheongsam is Li Man'man. She came here a minute earlier than you and braved through 3 interviews just to enter Warson.

Li Man'man: Hi, nice to meet you.

Brother Mao: And that's Chen Che, our team's tailoring genius. He's been here for nearly 4 years and has just been promoted to a Senior Designer.

The guy named Chen Che raised his head from the multitude of fabric surrounding him. He adjusted his glasses and gave me a wary look.

Chen Che: Hello.

It was at this moment in time that a guy sporting a quiff hairdo walked past us. His head was haughtily raised and his expression was one of utter disdain.

Man With Quiff Hairstyle: Hmph.

MC: And he is…?

Brother Mao: Don't mind him. He's an annoyance. He just failed the promotion test and is being the green-eyed monster to everyone right now.

I only nodded, not knowing what to say.

Brother Mao: That one over there's Hao Shuai, the trendsetter of Team A and also the King of Werewolf games.

Hao Shuai: Wanna play Werewolf? I'll host one next time, but not now...

Hao Shuai buried his face with a sullen expression as Brother Mao quietly pulled me aside to a corner.

Brother Mao: He's not been in too jolly of a mood these few days. He didn't manage to get promoted to Senior Designer, so he's been pretty depressed about it.

MC: Sounds like it's very hard to get promoted up a rank...

Brother Mao: Precisely! Although Warson has a rank promotion system in place, the way things are being assessed in them makes it scarily hard! People normally have to do it five or six times before they manage to get themselves promoted.

Brother Mao: And, you might even get demoted a rank if the work you turn in doesn't make the cut!

MC: That strict!?

Brother Mao: I'm a Junior Designer like you. I've already taken the assessment around…

Zheng Lin: 10 times.

Brother Mao: You remember all so well, Sister Zheng Lin.

He gallantly retrieved another chair for Zheng Lin to sit on, seemingly paying no heed to the embarrassing number of tries he'd gone through.

Brother Mao: Don't they say that failure's the mother of success? I just have to get a couple more of those and it'll net me a great success!

I laughed at his joke along with Zheng Lin.

Zheng Lin: Our assessment system is just stricter than others.

Zheng Lin: Even though everyone is free to design whatever they like with their creativity as the limit, becoming an actual Fashion Designer is some serious business.

Zheng Lin: Those capable of joining us here in Warson are all talented individuals. Hence, what's really being tested in those assessments are your passion and perseverance.

Zheng Lin: I've welcomed hundreds upon hundreds of rookies during my 10 years here in Team A, but most of them drop out after failing the assessment 3-4 times.

MC: Eh?

Zheng Lin: Firstly, everyone who first comes here holds high self-esteem, so they're a bit more sensitive to criticism. And it is only natural for people to find it unbearable, especially after having been criticized a lot.

Zheng Lin: Secondly, there's a limit to the type of jobs that can be given to Assistants and Junior Designers, so things often end up being boring and repetitive

Zheng Lin: It's hard to go on like that if you don't have the right sort of determination.

MC: ……

Zheng Lin was about to say more when the door slammed open with a "bang!". Several people stood at the entrance, worry written all over their anxious faces.

Colleague A: Can someone consolidate all of Sliver's Autumn-Winter fabrics into a document?

Colleague A: I still have to go down to the mall and conduct surveys and research so I won't be able to do that in time!

Colleague B: Some trouble cropped up regarding the visas of the foreign models who're slated for a shoot next week, so we need another 18 new ones!

Colleague B: What should I do, Sister Zheng Lin!?

Zheng Lin gave a helpless sigh.

Zheng Lin: I'd originally wanted you to let you get used to things around here, but we have our hands full… Do you mind helping us?

MC: … Sure thing!

Zheng Lin: Then, could you first help us by going to the warehouse and picking up Silver's Autumn-Winter fabrics and consolidating them into a sample book after?

Zheng Lin: You can get Brother Mao to help you check it through once you're done.

I nodded and joined the fray.

Time went by. And finally, I finished my very first task after an hour. Brother Mao told me to take it up to the Team A representative who was in the meeting after checking through it.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was clearly noon soon, yet the doors of the meeting rooms on both sides of the corridor were still tightly shut, I could occasionally hear the sound of loud discussions coming from within.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Excuse me, I'm here to deliver the fabric samples.

Pushing the door open, I saw a Designer who was in the middle of loudly explaining his idea while Sariel held a pen, looking down at the document in his hand.

All the other Designers were either listening intently or hurriedly sketching out their new ideas, having been struck by a sudden wave of inspiration. It was almost as if the very air itself was crackling with ideas, going head to head with each other, gathering and merging into a brand new storm of ideas.

I’m going to be taking part in meetings with everyone in the future too… I couldn’t help but jump for joy at the exciting notion.

Placing the fabric catalogue book down, I couldn’t stop myself from taking one last glance at the meeting room before I left.

❖☆———————————★❖

Brother Mao: Oh, right. Don't forget to retrieve the catalogue book once the meeting upstairs is done.

MC: Okay.

❖☆———————————★❖

Everyone left after the meeting ended. I picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, stacking them neatly into a pile. It was only then that I noticed a pen lying on the ground.

The pitch-black pen was see-through, slender, and sturdy, with three gold-stamped petals at the very end.

MC: This is...

An image of Sariel wielding this pen with his head bowed in thought appeared in my mind.

MC: Is this pen his? It certainly suits that icy countenance of his...

❖☆———————————★❖

I bent down to pick it up, but the moment my fingers brushed against it… I suddenly felt an inexplicable sharp jolt of pain piercing my head.

My heart clenched violently, almost as if a nightmare that had been buried deep within its depths was about to be awakened. The stifling feeling of sadness and despair washed over me together with the odd feeling of my heart having been impaled by something.

What’s going on?

I pressed against my chest, trying to get through this sudden bout of pain that came out of seemingly nowhere.

Sariel: What's going on here?

There seems to be a faint voice ringing through my ears. The pen was taken away from me the next moment. Gone with it were the odd sensations.

I blearily looked at Sariel who had suddenly popped up from nowhere, still slightly woozy in the head.

Sariel: What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?

MC: I don't know what happened to me earlier…

Sariel: That's what I'd like to ask you.

☆Light Choice: Explain what you felt earlier

I shook my head, trying to recall that odd sensation you felt earlier.

MC: I… My chest and head just suddenly started hurting.

MC: I know I’m in the meeting room right now, but it kind of felt as if I wasn’t here at the same time…

MC: Like a nightmare, you can never wake up from…

Sariel’s expression changed minuscule bit upon hearing the word “nightmare”.

Sariel: How about now?

MC: I'm fine now, and the uncomfortable feeling's also gone.

Sariel: Has this happened before?

MC: Once…?

★Night Choice: Conceal what you felt earlier

MC: I just felt a little light-headed… I'm okay now.

MC: Oh, right. I picked up your pen.

I pointed towards the pen that he'd already reclaimed, which was now in his hand. Sariel only frowned.

Sariel: You felt light-headed after picking up this pen?

It was only when he mentioned it that I realized that that seemed to be the case. But what would a pen have anything to do with a bout of dizziness?

Sariel coldly grabs my hand, making my heart stop cold in my chest. However, all he did was stare at it in silence for a few seconds before releasing me just as quickly.

MC: What are you looking at? Is there something wrong with my hand?

Sariel: Nothing. It's well and fine.

What's up with Sariel? Grabbing my hand out of nowhere like that and not even telling me the reason why...

So, I ended up giving my hand a thorough check as well. There was nothing off about it, but I couldn't help feeling a little worried.

I'd also experienced some "auditory hallucinations" back then at the rooftop…

MC: Maybe I should go get myself a check-up at the hospital just in case…

Sariel: You look pretty peppy on your feet to me. Doesn't seem like there's anything physically wrong about you.

His gaze smoothly slides up from my face to the top of my head as he spoke.

Sariel: Though, I can't say the same about the other parts of you.

MC: ……!

I was fuming, yet I didn't dare to express it with a vehement glare. Seeing how riled up I was at it, yet unable to do anything about it, a flicker of a smirk made its way up to a corner of his mouth.

This was my second time seeing him smile today… The iron tree has bloomed…

Sariel: Are there flowers growing on my face?

I shook my head.

Sariel: A ghost then?

I shook my head again.

Sariel: Then why are you looking at me as if you've just seen a monster?

MC: You just smiled. It's too rare of a sight.

Sariel: … How stupid.

He put on a straight face as he pocketed his pen and turned to head out.

Suddenly remembering something, I hurriedly pushed the door open and ran after him.

MC: Wait a minute, Director Qi! Are you free right now?

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-3) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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beomglocks · 4 years

Text

unlikely allies ; txt x reader

part: one ,, next chapter / previous chapter

plot: when a zombie apocalypse breaks out in your town, you're forced to team up with a group of boys from very different social standards in your school.

genre: fluff, angst, horror i guess?, not really that scary but alright, some funny moments

w/c: 3.6K

warnings: blood, gruesome scenes (kind of really detailed), cursing, everyone hates each other, definitely some major injuries, zombies duh, everyone kinda pining for mc

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

he sighs looking at the both of you. "if we wanna make it out of here alive...we're gonna have to fight."

silence. the room was engulfed in silence, save for the growling and moaning of the monsters outside the door. you and yeonjun stared wide-eyed at taehyun who was mirroring your expressions.

"excuse me what?" yeonjun blurted. "we don't even know what those things are and you wanna go out there and risk getting torn to shreds like the nurse? are you crazy?" all you could do was shake your head in fear. you were still shaken up from watching someone get eaten alive.

"s-she...i saw her get eaten and then she just s-stood up? she came back to life somehow?" you questioned out loud. the boys looked at you with fear in their eyes. yeonjun stared at your shaken state and frowned turning to taehyun. "see? if go out there we're gonna die!"

"well do you have any other suggestions? if we stay here we starve to death or something like that, it's better to go out looking for help and finding others before more of them corner us here!" taehyun was making a lot of points right now but going out there? where you just saw a woman die and come back to life? that would happen to you guys if you weren't prepared.

you tried to calm yourself by taking a deep breath, "ok i agree with taehyun...but we need to be really prepared. we may not be capable of murder at this moment but we can take them on enough to get away right?"

taehyun nods but yeonjun just paces around the room anxiously. "you guys are insane. i can't believe i'm gonna die here of all places." you and taehyun watch yeonjun tug at his blonde hair. he suddenly pauses. "i have an idea. what if we don't actually try to take them on." he looked at you both expectedly.

"what do you mean?" you asked. he rolled his eyes, "we could try to just trap them in here and make our escape." taehyun nods at yeonjun's vague plan, "i get what you mean. before we start though we should take some stuff with us. we got lucky that we're in the nurse's office, we can take stuff in case we get injured."

all three of you split up around the office to pick up anything that might be helpful. "its a good thing i brought my bookbag with me," taehyun chuckles dryly. you pack up all the stuff you grabbed and help him zip up the bag. "ok so here's how we'll go forward with the plan."

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

yeonjun sighs shakily as he crouches behind the door. "this was my plan so why do i have to be the one to open the door?!" he angrily whispers to you. you're hiding behind the nurse's desk which is right beside the door, glaring at him, "just shut up and wait for taehyun's cue. if they hear you, we're screwed."

"will you two stop arguing. if anything i'm the one with the risker job," taehyun glares at you both. he's standing in the middle of the office, just a little bit away from the desk. "let's go over the plan just one more time so nothing unexpected happens," he's nervous and you can hear it in his voice. he's trying to act brave like earlier. yeonjun starts, "simple, i open the door letting the monsters in. they won't notice me since i'm crouched below the window." you sigh, continuing, "once the monsters come running in, i pull the stethoscope attached that chair other there as hard as i can. they'll trip over it sending them tumbling."

taehyun takes a deep breath, "and i'll be standing here as bait. once i see that they're both down, that should give me enough time to run out and shut the door on them." yeonjun bites his lip, "i hope this works...my heart is racing seriously."

since taehyun is now visible from the one lamp shining down on him, the monsters outside now have new adrenaline in them, viciously gnawing at the door's window. you don't realize it but you all take a deep breath.

"3″

"2″

"1!"

as soon as taehyun yells, yeonjun swings the door open. the zombies pretty much bum rush through it to get to taehyun as soon as a slither of it was cracked open, effectively managing to swing the door all the way to the wall. you watch it hit yeonjun's arm roughly and flinch. he tries to hold back a gasp and squeezes his eyes shut.

you turn your attention to your task and pull on the stethoscope. thankfully it's stretchy enough to cause the zombies to trip over it. they tumble over each other and skid across the floor. you get up to run out the door and pull yeonjun with you who's clutching his arm.

however, when you look back taehyun is not behind you, instead, he's scrambling to the nurse's closet. apparently you overestimated the recovery time of a simple stumble to the floor. they managed to get up quickly enough to chase after taehyun who thankfully was also quick enough to notice a flawed plan. "shit!" you yell out before you could think. the zombies turn their attention to you and yeonjun who are standing by the door.

they come running at you but you slam the door shut in their faces. great, now taehyun was in there and you both were out here. not to mention, he's the one with all the supplies.

"damn it!" yeonjun kicks the door in frustration. the zombies are tweaking out watching you both from inside the office. thankfully they don't notice the closet door slowly creep open.

taehyun sneaks out of the closet in a painfully slow manner, as to not get detected. he ducks behind the desk, holding his breath. he waits a moment before rising from his hiding spot and hurling a pack of unopened pens at where the cots are located. you watch the zombies whip their heads toward the sound and clamber in that direction. taehyun crawls out from behind the desk and runs toward the door. the lunch lady, who is behind the nurse, notices taehyun and runs toward him and at full blown speed.

your heart is pounding so fast, it genuinely feels like time is going in slow motion. the monster is only like a foot behind the red-haired boy. you throw the door open for taehyun and he launches himself like the outside hallway is home base. you and yeonjun once again slam the door closed on the zombie who face plants into it with a groan.

you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. sliding down to sit on the floor, you glance at taehyun. he's recovering from literally upper body diving out of the room but you figure he's fine since he's used to it from playing baseball so long. yeonjun seems fine too since he's not holding onto his arm anymore.

after a moment, you speak up, "are you ok?" it's not exactly a question directed at either of the two boys. you kind of are just asking yourself that but yeonjun answers anyways, "i think i'm ok, my arm is aching though. the door slammed on me pretty hard but im ok."

taehyun backs himself against the lockers opposite from you too. "i'm fine too." you examine him though you can't see him from the distance and the dimming hallway lights. his face is riddled in sweat and you can kind of see tears running down his face but he notices you staring and harshly wipes them away. he sighs letting his head rest on the lockers.

"i thought that would be easier...i thought i was gonna die back there. thanks for not leaving me," you feel like he means that so you make a noise of acknowledgment. yeonjun also nods at him but doesn't say anything.

it's dead silent in the hallway and you hope it's because the rest of the school is hiding not because they're dead. if you don't think of the circumstances you'd think it's somewhat peaceful.

taehyun breaks the silence, "what if there are other people in here in that same situation." he's not looking at you, he's looking into the abyss of darkness that is your school's hallway. once buzzing with students who you wished would shut the fuck up and move to their next class is now a ghost town. it's eerie and it leaves you with an unsettling feeling just thinking about what hides beyond the darkness.

"fuck no," yeonjun says. he's calm and you hope he doesn't lash out at what taehyun's suggesting. "taehyun..." you mumble. you don't want to say it out loud because you hate how it will sound. well, yeonjun says it for you, "did you hit your head on the way out. you almost died, dude! i know you're having some kind of epiphany about helping others and what not but think about this: those two zombie things aren't the only ones in this school. we could really die in here so we need to get o-"

"shut the fuck up!" taehyun spits. you can tell he's trying not to yell just in case there really are other zombies out here. "do you seriously only care about yourself? what if there really are other people waiting to be helped? we can't just leave them to die in this stupid ass school!" he gets up with some struggle, clutching his wrists again.

"look im not saying you have to help them but it would be really cool if you did...the more people that are alive the more likely we are to survive," with that he starts walking down into the darkness of the hallway. yeonjun scoffs and looks at you. you bite your lip. "i know it's risky...risking our lives for other people but i would feel like shit if i just let people die here while i run off like a coward."

yeonjun watches you run after taehyun. he's now left alone standing outside of the nurse's office. the zombies haven't quieted down and he wonders how much energy they have. he sighs dramatically, running after you both, "hey wait up!"

•·················•·················•

"so where are we headed?" your school isn't that big but it isn't that small either. there are three floors in total but most of the important rooms are on the first floor where you guys are located. taehyun clears his throat, "i was thinking we should get some weapons just in case. the gym's locker room/storage closet is where the team's baseball bats are located, we should be fine against those things if we manage to snag the metal ones."

once he answers you the silence surrounds you three again. you had been walking quite slowly since you didn't know if you'd encounter another zombie soon. it would be better if you could see but the power in the lights seemed to have died out. the school really did feel scarier when the lights were off.

"isn't it still day time outside?" yeonjun randomly asks. now that you think about it, he's right. if you were thinking about the time you took yeonjun to the nurse's office it was around 2 pm. "wait you're right," taehyun stops and turns around. "it was last period when you guys got to the nurse's office."

"damn it, i left my phone in my bookbag," you mumble. you thought it would be a quick trip to the nurse's office so you left it back in the class. yeonjun pats himself down and grumbles, "mine must've fallen out of my pocket during the fight. man, i fucking hate soobin! if i ever see him again he's dead."

you ignore yeonjun and look at taehyun expectantly, "sorry mines dead. i was playing with it while i was waiting for the nurse to come back," he answers sheepishly. you sigh, "we could've called for help since it's not late we could've called our parents or better yet, the police."

"don't worry, i'm sure they'll worry that we aren't coming back from school yet," yeonjun reassures. "i had practice today and my mom doesn't know i broke my wrist so she won't be expecting me home until after practice so i don't think she'll be worried until then."

yeonjun suddenly grabs taehyun's arm. you look at him in alarm because that was really random. this boy has just been full of spontaneous actions lately. "if you had practice today doesn't that mean the team would've been gathered in the gym by now?" a look of realization hits taehyun but he masks it quickly. "they're capable... they wouldn't have been turned into zombies, i'm sure there are some survivors," he sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than you guys.

as you're growing closer to the gym though, taehyun doesn't tell you that he's the best player on the team. he doesn't tell you that none of his other teammates can properly wield a bat. yes, any idiot can hold a bat but to properly swing it for the hit to have an impact takes real practice, practice that his teammates just haven't mastered. he doesn't tell you that he really doesn't think anyone in that gym has survived.

"you hear that?" yeonjun whispers stepping closer to the gym doors. there it goes again, the unmistakable moaning and groaning of the zombies. the sounds are harsher and louder being that there seem to be a lot of people in the gym at once. "damn that must be the team," you mutter. "there's no way anyone in there survived."

"we-we have to try and find out," taehyun tries. you eye him. you really don't think you'll get out of this one alive but you don't tell him that.

"we can cause some kind of distraction like last time," yeonjun suggests. "yeahhh no, im not doing that ever again," taehyun deadpans. "i think he means like what you did with the pens. that seemed to work...i think they react a lot to loud sounds."

there's a moment of silence where you all are just thinking. "your phone!" you turn to taehyun. he raises an eyebrow at you, "it's dead y/n." you shake your head, "look since it's dead and you really won't be needing it, we can just throw it somewhere in the gym. the impact of the phone hitting the wall will alert the zombies and they'll move. then we can maneuver ourselves through the darkness of the gym into the storage room to see if anyone's in there!"

both boys are staring at you with a weird look in their eyes but none of them say what they're really thinking. "that's... actually not a bad idea. the gym is big so there's no way we'll run into one. and since it looks like the lights are off they won't see us if we keep close to the walls," taehyun reiterates.

"ok so let's just get this over with," yeonjun mutters. you look at yeonjun who's staring into the gym, "you didn't have to come with us." you don't wanna sound rude but if he's just gonna complain the whole time then you'd rather be with just taehyun. "yeah right as if i'd venture off on my own in a school full of flesh-eating monsters," he rolls his eyes. "plus i'm the one who comes up with all the good plans, you guys need me."

"whatever," taehyun answers dryly. he's already starting to open the door to the gym, telling you guys that that's your cue to shut up. walking behind yeonjun, who's behind taehyun, you all crouch in a stealthy manner. you wouldn't call yourself the most athletic person but damn, why are your thighs starting to hurt? yeonjun cranes his neck to look back at you and when he sees you struggling to keep up, he slows down.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he whisper-yells. you don't know if the zombies can hear him but that sounded quite loud to you. you glare at him when the groans in the gym increase slightly in volume. "my thighs hurt, just- just leave me alone and tell taehyun to throw the damn phone." you see yeonjun purse his lips but turn to taehyun, telling him to get on with the plan. taehyun looks over to you with confusion and ?concern? written all over his face and all you do is nod at him.

he gets up slightly from his crouched position on the ground, still kind of in a half squat. he lets out a breath, preparing himself to pitch his phone. you watch in awe as you see taehyun get in the zone. you know this is a serious moment and everything but he looks good when he's focused.his eyes are trained on where he's made a mental target to throw to. even in this weird setting of a gym full of zombies of his own teammates, you can see that his breathing is steady. you wonder why you'd never been to any of the school's home baseball games when you realize that taehyun had somewhat of a cult following. right, just like yeonjun everyone liked him and you just figured it was for nothing or that he was overhyped but you can see why now.

drawing you out of your thoughts was the sound of taehyun's phone crashing against the gym's wall. at the moment in which you were daydreaming about him, he must've thrown it. "ok cmon we gotta hurry, that might not keep them that occupied," taehyun whispers. you turn to look at the zombies which, thankfully, fell for your trick. they were all gathered in the direction where taehyun had thrown his phone. you all rose from your crouched positions and ran the rest of the way to the gym's locker room.

once inside you all let out a breath. "i can't believe that worked," you sigh. "i'm glad it did," yeonjun also sighs. "ok let's go get those bats, once we have them then we might be safe," taehyun leads you both to where he knows they are. walking down the locker room's hallway is even creepier than walking down the normal hallway. there are no windows plus the lights are out so it's even darker in here. once again you're the behind yeonjun who's behind taehyun. you feel uncomfortable and almost feeling like there's an eerie presence behind you. you never liked to be last; the shiver you get through your spine from the mere thought of something following you was weird.

just then you whip your body around but you feel it before you see it. a zombie that must've been in the locker room before you got here hovering over you. you're not sure what happened but it must've flown at you hard enough to knock your body to the ground. it was snapping and snarling in your face trying to get a bite. your eyes were closed but all your other sensed were heightened and you could definitely hear yourself shrieking wildly. you weren't sure what taehyun and yeonjun were doing but you guessed they were standing and staring in shock and horror. you are surely gonna die here.

just then, the back of the zombie's skull was knocked in with so much force that it came out through the front, effectively landing on the upper half of your body and face. just like that, it was no longer trying to devour you, instead, slumping down onto you like a lifeless doll.

you wanted to throw up but you bit it back. you figured the image of you on the floor with blood and a bashed brain spilling out of a once alive human on you was enough.

the body was thrown off you in an instant and there stood choi beomgyu looking over you with so much concern that you were scared you turned into a zombie and were about to suffer the same fate as the corpse next to you. "oh my god y/n," his eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is agape. he kneels down to wipe the brain remnants off you but he does it hastily and not that gentle really. you flinch and he pauses, "s-sorry its just that...well i don't know. i didn't think anyone else was alive and then i see you but you're about to get eaten so i mean-." you cut him off with a shaky hand lifted when you realize he's rambling.

he wants to go in to hug you and shout for joy that thankfully his crush- i mean... thankfully you are alive but yeonjun steps in, "dude oh my god y/n, are you okay?" you don't turn around to look at him or taehyun because frankly, you're too shaken up to even stand.

"thank you beomgyu," you whisper the expression and you kind of hope it sounds spiteful towards the other two boys for not really doing anything to help. taehyun looks down and bites his lip and yeonjun just looks at you. beomgyu smiles lightly and helps you stand and when you turn around you see the other two boys flinch at what you look like.

you know you must look horrifying with blood all over you and you want to cry. not because you look absolutely disgusting in front of the two of the most popular boys at your school but because you almost died in front of them. you let out a sob and taehyun steps forward but beomgyu is already ahead of him. "oh y/n... it's ok. look," he wipes your face with his shirt and you feel even worse. "we're alive, you're alive, it's gonna be ok."

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

taglist: @fxd-skz (send ask to be added!)

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ask-de-writer · 3 years

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ALMUA : Part 3 of 9 : a tale of the Bizarre Borderland

Return to the MASTER STORY INDEX

Return to the BIZARRE BORDERLAND

ALMUA

Part 3 of 9

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

12696 words

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

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Jixticka was busy using a stick to fish her bundle of now cooked roots and nuts out of the coals, unwrapping them from the charred leaves that had both protected and steamed them, and setting them out on the same stone that she used to make her flour. In moments, they were all neatly mashed together to form a nutritious paste. Jixticka spread her paste into our tortillas and then her own. After taking a good bite, chewing and swallowing, Jixticka asked, “Do you mean all of those measurements that you took of my bones? The ones that you said only matched that ancient skeleton, what did you call him? The Kenniwick man?”

Jimena had to swallow some of her tortilla before answering, “This is good, Jixticka, thank you. No, while those measurements were an important consideration because of being unique, what convinced us more than anything were the things that you do not know. In every culture there are many things that are so basic that you don't even have to think about them. They are a part of you. Many of the things basic to our culture are completely absent from your knowledge.

“Conversely, there are many things about your culture that we cannot comprehend or only understand imperfectly. Your certainty about life after death being a commonplace thing where the dead continue to live alongside you in this life is one.”

Jixticka looked puzzled as she unrolled blankets that she had carried as a roll on her back. “Why should that be any problem at all? Even Msgr. Francesco agreed that many of your people believe in reincarnation. You have said so too.”

Jimena pursed her lips as she thought. At last she said, “We regard reincarnation as a rare event, usually happening only as partial memories of the past life. It is not like what you have described to us. For you, reincarnation seems to be something that people do routinely with their memories and personalities intact.”

Jixticka furrowed her brow as she tried to understand what Jimena was saying. It was obviously difficult. Finally, completely confused, she asked, “Why would anybody want to return to the cage of bones if they were not whole? The only other sensible things that you can do are become Almua, like I wish to do, or cease to exist. I do not speak for your people but most of my people do not want to come to an end. They like living in Stickapec's Face of the World. They choose to do that either as Almua or through returning to the cage of bones. It is a simple choice, isn't it?”

I nodded thoughtfully while I unrolled my sleeping bag and pointed out, “The choice is a simple one, yes, Jixticka. The problem that our people have is more basic. We do not know how to do those things. A choice that you cannot take is not really a choice, is it?”

Jixticka bit her lip to hold back tears as she replied, “I so much hope that you are wrong, Friar Issac. I cannot return to Stickapec because that whole Face of the World is now turned away from me by the Almua. In spite of that, I desperately want to return to my home. I should never have argued with Eketet Almua. I do not know how to unsay the hurtful things that I said to her but if it is possible for me to return, I will try.

“I turned my back on my friend and teacher. Friar Issac, never turn your back on one that you love. In my pride and anger I left Stickapec. Sut Almua found me at the Gate-stones and warned me that if I left, the Face of Stickapec would be closed to me. In my anger and pride, I did not listen. I left.

“When I saw what your Face of the World is like, I did try to return. As wise Sut Almua warned me, all that was there for me was the desolation that the valley of Stickapec shows to your Face of the World.”

Jimena was making more carefully written notes. She looked up from her work and asked, “Jixticka, I do not really understand this thing that you call Faces of the World. As wise as he is in many ways, Msgr. Francesco kept interrupting you with questions about Heaven, Earth and Hell while you tried to explain the idea. Can you help me to understand the Faces of the World better?”

The intellectual question seemed to help center our guide and friend. Jixticka gazed at the embers of her fire for a moment and nodded her head. “I think so, Jimena. Will you loan me your notebook for a few minutes? I think that I can show you what is hard to explain.”

Taking Jimena's notebook in her hand, Jixticka folded it shut. Holding it out, she said, “Here is the whole of the World. Now, I open it near the middle. This half is your Face of the World and this half is Stickapec's Face of the World. Both Faces are parts of a whole but they are separate things. See the lines? They are nearly the same but not quite alike. Here is your writing. From a distance it also seems the same but it is not really. That is how the Faces of the World are. They are almost the same but each one is different. If you close the book, the Faces are close, even touching, but the lines and words on one Face do not cross to the other. So it is with the Faces of the World. They are so close that they do touch but nothing usually crosses from one Face to the other.

“The Almua can not only see the Faces of the World, they can even go between the Faces and take a person or something else if there is a need. I want to become Almua myself someday but not for traveling to this Face or that. I want to do as much good as I can for my people, like the other Almua. I do not like it here at all. I was such a fool!”

I looked at the unhappy young woman kneeling across the fire from me and I recalled the disputes that we had in Msgr. Francesco's book lined office. The Bishop was sure that the Almua that Jixticka kept referring to were some sort of ancestral spirits or ghosts that should be exorcised. I had my doubts about that. I knew that Jimena did too.

I leaned back against a stone and asked Jixticka, “Would you explain what the Almua are again? Here, we do not have a Bishop, as good a man as he is, trying to make assumptions about them. He was so sure that they were ancestor ghosts or something of the sort that he kept interrupting while you were trying to explain them.”

In the glow of the campfire, Jixticka smiled at that and shook her head. “How could Msgr. Francesco become an important man when he will not listen to the answers to his questions? I noticed that he is not alone in that problem. I do not understand why your people choose such leaders.

“As for your question, Friar Issac, the Almua are simply people. When they left the cage of bones they did not choose to return and reincarnate in another cage of bones. In spite of that, they have chosen to stay and live with the people that they care about but they do it in a different way. Because they are no longer in the cage of bones, they do not die or change unless they choose to. That is why some who are ancient like Sut Almua look like ordinary people and others who are also old may look young like Eketet Almua does. They are all wise. None of them is a fool like I was. I miss them so!”

Jimena looked up from more notes and asked, “How can the Almua come back if they are not reincarnated in another body?”

Jixticka looked puzzled. “They are in a sort of body, I think. They feel solid and warm like us but it is simply not the cage of bones. I do not understand that part of being Almua well enough to explain it, Jimena. I am sorry.”

Jimena flipped back through her notes and asked Jixticka, “You know when Friar Issac is having a vision. You can tell from over twenty meters away and with your back turned. I've seen that happen. What I want to know is why neither of you mentioned Friar Issac's visions while we were back in Mexico City?”

I smiled at that and answered for Jixticka, “It was caution, Jimena. I've had my visions since I was young. No good ever came of telling anybody about them. Jixticka found me in a park near to Our Lady of Goodness because she could tell that I was having a vision. I do not know how Jixticka knows when I have one but it is certain that she does know. When she saw that I was having a vision, she asked me about it. That happened on several occasions.

“In only a few conversations with Jixticka, I learned that she is very different from most people. Combined with her misery and confusion about our ways, it all convinced me to try and help her to find her way home. She agreed to keep my visions a secret from Msgr. Francesco.”

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS ~ NEXT==>

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#ALMUA #Part 3 of 9 #Bizarre Borderland #Written by De Writer

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downwiththeficness · 3 years

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A Need So Great Chapter 20

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:~2,000

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve @maouzon

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21

Eva did her very best not to fidget. She’d been in this building before, though not on this particular floor. The unfamiliar location coupled with having never laying eyes on the person she was meeting with made her anxious. And, when she was anxious, she felt herself begin to fidget. She was sitting in the lobby, one high heeled foot bouncing over her crossed knee. The décor was taupe, which she heard could be very soothing. It did not soothe Eva.

A hand landed on her knee, warm and heavy, stopping her movement. She looked over at Horacio, breathing deeply. His scent—that was what would soothe her. She wondered if it would be acceptable to lean over in her chair and bury her nose in his neck. He’d probably take it in stride, but she feared the displeased looks from the others in the lobby. She’d had enough judgmental stares to last her a lifetime. There was no need to add to them.

Eventually, they were called back and led to a sterile office not far down the hall. The assistant ushered them to their seats and asked if they needed anything, an offer that was turned down. A few moments later, a man walked in hurriedly. He was dressed in a gray suit that was a little too big for him, a striped tie flapping with each step. Middle aged, hair silver enough to tell her that he’d started graying early, though he had a good hairline that was only just now beginning to recede. His belt didn’t match his shoes.

“I apologize for the delay, I was caught in a meeting that went a little long,” he said in that warm Southern drawl that Eva had completely forgotten existed. As he sat and picked up a pen, he continued, “I’m agent Richardson.”

Eva introduced herself and Horacio, smiling as congenially as she could. A firm grasp of her body kept her from bouncing her leg, but she did stutter a little. It had been a long time since she’d felt so utterly exposed.

“Agent Peña said that you’ve got evidence that could helpful in my investigation?”

Eva gave a stilted nod, scratching at the skin above her brow, “I do.”

Hands turning up in question, he prompted, “And?”

She hesitated. Everything that had been ingrained in her from an early age rebelled against talking with a federal agent, no matter how long she’d been working with them.

He noted her reluctance, “You’ve signed the immunity agreement. Anything you say here can’t be held against you, as long as you cooperate.”

Eva looked away, swallowing back the fear of going back to prison. She’d talked with Horacio about it on the flight over. He’d listened intently to her distrust of the government, had held her hand when she started to cry. And then, when her tears were dry, he assured her that, if push came to shove, he’d smuggle her out of the country. The contingency plan was already mostly formed. They’d packed lightly, and he had a set of forged passports sewn into his carry on.

“Ardent Pharmaceuticals,” she began. “I created their tax system, I initiated all their LLC licenses as of fifteen years ago. They have holdings in at least three off shore accounts, I can provide you with those account numbers and with the banks they’re associated with.”

Agent Richardson’s face was very still, Eva wasn’t sure that he was even breathing. After a moment, he said, “You’re confident you can get me that information.”

Eva licked her lips, pausing only a moment, “Yes. I can do that.”

He blinked, rolling the pen between his fingers, “Alright. Let’s get started.”

When they were walking out of the building, Eva’s heels clicking on the pavement, Horacio took her hand. Their hotel was maybe a few blocks away and the weather was pleasant for the time of year. A cool breeze rustled her hair, the smell of street food coming along with it. This was nice. Really nice.

She felt a kind of heavy relief flow out of her body, the muscles of her neck and shoulders loosening with every step. It might come back and bite her in the ass, but she’d done the right thing. She knew it, deep down.

Horacio transferred her hand to the other side, his now free arm wrapping around her middle. Their stride slowed a little. Eva didn’t mind at all.

“I love this skirt, you know?” he murmured, the pads of his fingers running along the waistband.

She remembered him telling her how much he loved this skirt the first night they’d slept together. Dreams, he’d said. Eva smiled, leaning into him.

“I do know,” she replied easily, not even bothering to hide the affection in her gaze.

He kissed her temple, leading her through the doors of the hotel. The air conditioning blew at her, a sharp contrast to the soft wind outside. She shivered despite Horacio’s warmth around her. He noticed, the arm at her waist rising up to encircle her shoulders. She touched his fingers briefly while they waited for the elevator.

“I’m proud of you.”

She looked up at him, “Why?”

He shrugged, “It wasn’t easy for you to go through all of that. We were in there for three hours, Eva. You dredged up every detail of your work to hide your in laws’ criminal activity like it was… nothing.”

Lips parting, she felt her brows come together, “Because it was nothing.”

The doors to the elevator opened and he ushered her inside. Tapping the button to their floor, he shot her a look that said he expected a further explanation. Eva chuckled, leaning back against the railing.

“This year has been...fantastic,” she started, eyes on the dusty ceiling of the carriage. “I never could have thought that I’d end up here, with you.”

A ding sounded and Eva walked ahead of Horacio, pulling him willingly along by the hand, “All those things I talked about, I’ve spent years working through them. I still think about it, yeah, and I still have to work on it. But, what that was in there? That was simple math. I need them to be so tied up legally that they don’t have the capital to pay another hitman. And, I needed to get a little vengeance—more vengeance—than I already had.”

Horacio keyed into their room, tossing the key onto the table near the door. Eva followed him, sitting on the bed to remove her shoes. Though they were comfortable, a few blocks’ walk had earned her some relief. She rubbed at the arch of her foot with her thumb.

Sitting next to her, he took her hand again, gazing carefully at her expression, “Its not your job to take down their entire enterprise.”

The steadiness of his gaze, the sincerity of his expression, was amusing. He had already made her out to be a little bit of a martyr, which was pretty much the opposite of what was happening.

Eva rolled her eyes, “I have no aspirations of that. I just want to make a little trouble.”

More than a little trouble. She wanted to breakdown their ability to make moves the way they had been doing for so long. She wanted them utterly impotent for the foreseeable future.

His smile reached his eyes, the corners crinkling, “I think you’ve achieved that.”

Not yet, she hadn’t. There was still the matter of the fallout and Eva did not trust in the effectiveness of the American government. She would have to watch from the sidelines as they worked—or, didn’t work. Either way. Eva very much wanted it to work.

“I’ll admit that it would be nice to see Myra in one of those prison jumpsuits.”

Thumb rubbing at her palm, Horacio seemed to be trying to picture it, “When it happens, I’ll see if I can get someone to take a picture, for posterity’s sake.”

He sat another moment longer, and Eva could tell that he had something to say and was trying to find the words. She lifted a brow, in silent invitation.

Pulling his lips between his teeth, he was quiet another moment before his hand tightened on hers, “I put in my resignation.”

Shocked, Eva could only say, “When?”

“Before we left.”

“Why?”

He blinked, head cocking to the side, “Because you were right. Because I’ll be dead very soon if I keep on doing this.”

It took about thirty seconds for Eva to get her mind about what he’d just said. In those thirty seconds, she made a few decisions, and maybe fell in love just a little bit more. They would have to take a detour before they got to the airport.

“What are you going to do next?”

His work was his entire life, it consumed almost every waking minute. The man probably made plans to arrest dealers in his sleep.

He shrugged, “I’ve got some loose ends I need to tie up, and then I thought we could make the decision together.”

Her jaw dropped a bit. He wanted to make plans. Together. He wanted to make plans—plans for the future—with her. Plans they could enact. Plans that didn’t involve looking over their shoulder for the rest of their lives.

Eva leaned over and kissed him, sniffing back the tears that threatened. Really, she hadn’t cried this much since the first year of her marriage. Happy tears, though, were always welcome.

In the cab the next day, Eva prompted the driver to pull off the highway a few exits early. When Horacio asked what they were doing, she simply smiled and patted his arm. The neighborhood she directed the driver to was...an acquired taste. The building that they stopped in front of was decrepit, nearly falling apart on its foundation. The place had once been the office of the mausoleum next door, but had fallen into disrepair when another office had been built on the other side. She was surprised the roof hadn’t completely caved in.

“Is this...safe?” he asked, eyes looking over the building skeptically.

Eva smiled again, unbearably amused at his choice of words, “Safe is one way to put it.”

She walked ahead of him, moving through the first floor to the back room. It was small, and part of the floorboards were missing. She had to hop from joist to joist to get to the cold air return vent. The years had taken a toll on the bones of the place, leaving the hinges off center. It took several grunting yanks to get the cover free so that she could reach into the vent and pull the bag free.

Covered in dust, but still whole, the black fabric was thin in some places from use. She’d had the thing since middle school, her name embroidered on one side. Evangeline, written in white thread that had turned yellow over the years. With shaking fingers, she traced the letters. It was the only thing she had from before she was married, everything else given up somewhere along the way. This, she was definitely holding onto.

“What is it?” Horacio asked from the door, his eyes scanning the room, mouth thin.

Eva looked up at him, “My retirement plan.”

Hopping across the joists towards him, she made her way to one of the few stable points in the front room, dropping the bag carefully. On one knee, she opened the zipper, spreading the fabric wide. Inside was every dollar she could skim from the till, about a hundred thousand in total.

Horacio was standing next to her, looking down at the stacks with pride in his eyes, “I knew you were smart.”

Glancing at him from behind her lashes, Eva grinned, “I’m practical.”

He chuckled, “Same thing.”

Zipping the bag back up, Eva swung it over her shoulder, “Needless to say, this will be my carry on.”

He quirked a brow at her, amused, “Is that all you have hidden?”

“Here, at least.”

There was another couple of bags hidden here and there, none with nearly this much in them. She would have to make plans to touch base in those locations before they finalized their...Eva paused a moment. They had plans, or they would.

She smiled, “This is enough for now, I think.”

He held out his hand to her, “Then, we should go. The meter’s running.”

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

Photo

14 Firefighters Share Their Scariest Paranormal Encounters

The weirdest part of the fire was the 911 call. The callers wife was in the background screaming, “you f**ked him off now, look he’s gone and burned the place down”.

With grit and determination, every day firefighters bravely put their lives on the lines for us, but it seems it’s not just the flames these brave men and women face; from haunted firehouses to ghostly apparitions. Here are 14 of the most chilling paranormal encounters and ghost stories shared by firefighters from across the United States.

1. Guardian Angel

Our firehouse isn’t haunted, at least not on a regular basis, but one of our engines is.

Two examples I have personally seen and experienced are; first, we were responding to a call in a dark, secluded, industrial area one night when the engine suddenly sputtered, stalled, and coasted to a stop right in front of a railroad crossing with no gates. Just as we stopped, a freight train came through. The engine started right up and ran fine after the train passed.

The second example happened one blazing hot summer afternoon when we were called to a highway construction site for a burning shanty. We pulled up and began advancing the handline when it suddenly seemed like the hose became tangled up in the hosebed. We went back to the engine to check, and just then the shanty blew up into thousands of tiny pieces. There were NO tangles in the hose, and it wasn’t caught or hung up anywhere.

2. Mr Jones

Our fire department is haunted by a man named Mr. Jones. The story dates back many years before we built a new station. Mr. Jones died at the old firehouse from a heart attack after battling a house fire.

A chief told me a story once: ‘I went to the restroom which was off the hallway. On my way in, I sat my brand new pack of cigarettes on the file cabinet outside of the doorway. When I came out, the cigarettes were lined end-to-end down the hallway.’

Another firefighter about a year later also had a ‘Mr. Jones Experience.’ He and another guy were watching TV one night when the clock above the TV flew off the wall, landed in the center of the room, spun around a few times, then landed on a book shelf.

All of the ‘haunted firehouse’ stories never really had me believing until Mr. Jones gave me a story of my own. I have this thing about open shower curtains. I notice when they are open and I have to close them. I had walked into the restroom to clean it but forgot a trash bag. The shower curtain was open. When I walked back in, about 30 seconds later, the curtain was closed. That is the only story that is personal. Other than that, we have doors that open and close by themselves, lights that go on and off, stuff like that. So that’s my story and I’m stickin to it.

3. Jesus Christ

About seven or eight years ago, we arrived at a townhouse with heavy fire from the first floor on side one. After making entry, locating the fire in the kitchen, and extinguishing, we set about taking out a few windows for ventilation.

After the smoke had risen, we noticed that the living area to the rear of the kitchen (which was on the right hand side as we entered) had taken significant smoke and heat damage. On the wall was a picture of Jesus Christ, and it was the only object in the room that appeared untouched. Even the wall BEHIND the picture was smoke-stained and blistered.

There was evidence of two streams of water that had trickled from the lower corners of the picture to a point in the middle of the wall where they met and continued down to the floor. The odd thing was that the line had been pulled through this room and was flowing into the kitchen to push the fire out the front, through a large vented window. No water had been flowing in the room, and the steam produced had been pushed out the window. Even the FM was amazed, and we haven’t seen anything like it since. It kinda makes one wonder.

4. Steve

We have a protector. We had a member, Steve that was killed in the line of duty during a helicopter operation. Ever since he died, members swear they can hear him in the building at night. Doors close, open, etc. without explanation. Then one night we figured out why he was there.

One of our members who has been here about 15 years now was on duty. We have bullet proof vests we keep on the units, but in a back compartment. He heard that compartment open and close. He went out into the bay and looked at it, and for some reason he took the vest out and put it in the front seat. He’d never done that before.

Next thing you know, he’s toned out to a ‘sick call’ that after his arrival was deemed a shooting. Nothing happened to him, but the point was made.

Several such incidents have occurred. Whenever something big is about to happen, a unit door opens and shuts or a bay door opens etc. We always know.

5. The Phantom Handprint

On April 18, 1924, a firefighter named Frank Leavy was washing a window at the fire station. For some reason, he paused in his work, his hand resting against the pane of glass, and he told a friend who was standing nearby that he had the strangest feeling he was going to die that day. Just then, the station received an alarm call and the fire fighters were sent to a fire that had broken out at Curran Hall, an office building in Chicago. While fighting the fire, a wall collapsed and killed eight of the firemen… Frank Leavy was one of those killed.

The next day, one of the firemen noticed something strange about the window that Frank had been washing the day before. There seemed to be an unusual stain on the glass…. and it appeared to be the imprint of Frank’s hand at the same spot where he had been leaning the day before.

They tried everything that they could, but they could find no way to erase the strange handprint. It seemed to be etched into the glass!

An expert from the Pittsburgh Plate Glass company brought a special solution to the fire house, guaranteeing that it would remove the print, but it didn’t work. Over the years, there were suggestions that the pane of glass be removed, but many of the firemen argued, saying that it was not right to fool with the unknown. Besides that, it was a reminder, albeit a grim one, of their dead friend. And there was no doubt that the handprint belonged to Frank Leavy! An official from the city had come down with a fingerprint comparison and the prints matched those of Frank’s. For the next twenty years, the handprint defied all explanation and was a common attraction to visitors and other firemen from around the city.

Finally, on the morning of April 18, 1944 a careless paper boy tossed the morning edition at the fire house and shattered the window where Frank’s handprint had been.

It happened exactly twenty years to the date of when Frank Leavy died!

6. “You F**ked Him Off Now”

There was a fire about 6-7yrs ago. The call was weird from the start, the 1st due engine didn’t want to start (it was out on a run bout 20mins before) they get there, the house was fully involved. When they got there, the fire was burning in strange ways… at one point flames were shooting out a window, and taking a ninety degree turn upward. The investigator pictures show the face of the devil in the smoke and flames. I know it sounds BS, but I have seen a few of these pics, and have talked with some of the investigators. They were saying that the basement was rocking, when they went back the next day it looked as though nothing burned downstairs.

The weirdest part of the fire was the 911 call. The dispatcher said the callers wife was in the back ground screaming, “you f**ked him off now, look he’s gone and burned the place down”. These people were said to have been Satan worshipers, everyone in the Dept. is afraid to even go on that road for calls. Incidentally the name of the road is “Angel Hill” hmmm, pretty weird.

7. Footsteps

I worked for a department that had lost a few members in its time. Over the course of the first few months I was there, I noticed strange noises in the bay. Once, I walked in the front door only to hear the back door slam. I walked back to see who it was, and when I opened the back door, no one was there. There was fresh snow on the ground and no tracks.

Another time I went down to the bay in the middle of the night. I heard distinct footsteps walking around one of the rigs on the other side of the bay. I called out but no one answered. I got spooked and crept around the bay with an axe trying to find the intruder. No one there! I also got a really spooky feeling a few times when I was alone in the bay by the back door. Later, I happened to mention to the chief that I had heard some weird stuff in the station at night. He got a strange look on his face and said ‘Let me guess… footsteps behind Engine 3 and a creepy feeling by the back door!’ I got the same story from one of the captains, about hearing footsteps and all that. Guess someone’s still hanging around…

8. The Station in The Woods

Back at my old department before I moved to my current one I was assigned to the farthest southern station by myself with a single engine. The area was in a heavily wooded area of the district. At night it got extremely dark in that area, more so than the other areas of the dist. There were a lot of one lane dirt and paved roads as well as a few meth labs, and no police coverage.

I had had several occasions that I would hear dogs barking at a house near the station, and hear sounds outside the station like thumping noises, usually after 1 AM. I would go outside to look and no one would be there. These noises went on for about a week. Once I had a friend from another station come down to visit me but I was gone, he got scared off when he heard five loud bangs on the wall near the kitchen, of course he failed to tell me this. Another night I was in bed and saw a shadow outside my window walking in the flower bed. The shadow passed my window and then the person kicked the door near the bay. I crawled out of bed and called 911, while I was on the phone the person busted out the bedroom window, half scared shitless I ran to the engine and bailed north to another station with a higher staffing level. The PD responded and 45 minutes later searched and deemed the station safe.

I soon after moved from that station and it is no longer staffed even now 3 years later. I found out from a B/C later on that a previous FF had been attacked in the parking lot washing an engine, and that the station had had several other weird occurrences happen since it was built.

9. The Hose Tower Hanging

I too have heard of the strange noises that occur inside many of our firehouses.

We have a firehouse that late at night, you can hear chains rattling at the top of the hose tower. When you turn on the light and climb the ladder to the platform at the top of the tower, nothing is there. The rumor has it that back in the 50’s a probationer hung himself in the hose tower and wasn’t discovered for a week.

10. The Old Capt.

The oldest station in Lex., KY, is haunted, according to some of the old heads, by an old Capt. who died while on duty in his sleep on Christmas Eve in the 1940’s. He is said to have sat in an old cane bottomed rocking chair, that chair was put in the attic of the station after his death, where it is still heard to be rocking on occasion.

Chiefs have gotten calls from neighbors who were mad because they could see a fireman looking out of the upstairs window, but no one would answer the door. This usually happens when the engine company was out on a fire run or training. Engine started by itself and backed in to the wall one night (std. trans.). Some of the guys who have worked there would not even go in the house alone on payday to pick up their pay checks if the co. was out.

11. The Ouija Board

A fire company that I used to belong to is quartered in a building built in the 1930’s and it is unquestionably haunted. Odd things happen regularly such as bathroom stall doors being locked from the inside, tv and lights turning on and off, footsteps across the floor, yelling when nobody else is there, etc… A few members decided to bring in an Ouija board one night and see what they could find. It turns out that there are two ghosts, one is a past chief and the other is a small boy that used to live in a row of miner’s houses that has long since been torn down.

The chief confirmed his identity by naming other long dead members (so long dead that we had to dig back 50 years in the company’s records to even find their names!). The chief generally drags chairs around the meeting room at night and yells at members while the boy is constantly bouncing his ball on the upstairs floor. All of this only happens at night.

12. The Indian Arrowheads

My father’s volunteer fire company also found Indian arrowheads while they were digging for an addition to the firehouse back in the 50s, but they also unearthed cannonballs and buttons. If my memory is right, some expert said that the cannonballs were from the American revolution and that the buttons were from a Hessian soldier (Hessians were mercenaries that the British used against Washington’s army). BUT – strange things began happening while those items the firemen dug up were in the firehouse.

First off, anyone that touched the items got very ill with high fevers and rash. The guys that actually dug up the items were very bad off; and their feet became swollen and turned black and blue. The door to the firehouse would also swing open just as someone approached, and the doors to the huge cast iron firehouse oven would open and close all by itself. Someone in the company said that they should bury the items; put them back in the ground – and when they did everyone got better, and all the strange things stopped happening.

13. The Fortune Teller

My firehouse has had a run of strange happenings over the years also. Many of us have actually seen a misty figure move through the rec room and out to the apparatus room. Some of the crews have seen the figure together, others have seen him when they were by themselves. The usual doors swinging, chairs moving upstairs, people walking across the floor or up and down the stairs happens occasionally.

The really scary part was when a friend of a friend stopped by the firehouse with her kids for a tour. This woman practices tarot card readings, fortune telling and the like. She had never been in the firehouse before and had never known about any of the instances in the firehouse. After the tour she asked me if the firehouse had “guest appearances” often. I thought she meant the kids and said that we often have children take tours of the place. She corrected herself and asked if we had ever seen ghosts, I said, maybe-I’m not sure. She described our misty figure from head to toe exactly as he appears and said she had seen him. Do I believe, probably not much more than I had before that day but I don’t doubt anything.

14. Standing Behind Me

This story takes place in Fayetteville, NC and the department I used to work for there. When I was assigned to Engine 2, I had heard all kinds of stories of it being haunted. Footsteps, doors opening, writing on the wall, and even a sighting are all the things I was told about.

I heard some things once in a while but the one time I was really spooked happened in late 2000. I was lying in bed, about 2 am when I heard footsteps approach my bunk and stop behind me, between my bed and the wall. The first thing I thought was that I had slept through a call but then I saw that my LT was still asleep and I noticed the radio was quiet. I could feel someone standing beside the bed and as much as I didn’t want to I slowly turned and looked to find that there was no one there.

#14 Firefighters Share Their Scariest Paranormal Encounters #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years

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Verboten 3 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 3

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead,” Dash clarified as he watched Danny for his reaction. “And from what Kwan said, his body was really messed up.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker stuttered in fear. Dash was known for trying to scare his ‘victims,’ so most likely he was just trying to get a rise out of them. “Yeah, yeah, and what’s your proof?” he asked as he sat down on his bed.

That caused the jock to back track. “Well… Kwan said…”

“Dash, I get we’re in the middle of the woods, and you’re in a prime position to tell ghost stories, but unless you have proof, this is not something you should joke about,” Danny scolded which drew a few surprised looks.

“What? It goes against your morals?”

The teen’s sneer was enough to cause uncharacteristic anger to flood through him. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Danny glowered at him. “I’m only going to explain this once,” he warned as he tried to sound deadly serious, “I’ve seen the aftermath of what happens in a family who has someone go missing, especially when there’s no explanation as to what happened. It’s not pretty, and when it comes to people who get out here all sorts of terrible things can happen, so you shouldn’t be spreading rumors that could reach the family.”

“Wait, hold on. Fenton, you had someone in your family go missing?” one of the other jocks, Zach, asked. Danny was actually surprised he caught on to that. “Did they at least find them?”

“Luckily, they did, but that’s the reason my parents were so vocal against me going, and while I think they’re way too extreme about it, I, at least, understand their concerns.”

“But, no offense, your parents go on and on about weird creatures, ghosts, and other weird crap.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when you try to rationalize what happened when nothing else makes sense. They were already involved in fringe metaphysics and stuff before that happened, so it was a logical jump for them to consider time slips and other dimensions with how bizarre everything was.”

A silence fell between them as they let Danny’s words sink in. It seemed that Zach wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Dash did eventually mumble something about how he’d drop it for now. That by itself was enough validation for Danny.

“Hey,” Tucker hesitantly spoke up after several minutes as all of them began to lay down, “do you think that kind of thing is real? I mean like falling into other dimensions and stuff.”

Danny didn’t answer him immediately. “To be honest with you, I really don’t know. I know there are a lot of legends regarding things like this, and my parents’ research at least suggests the concept of other dimensions is possible. I know the concept of wormholes are mathematically supported, and that some astronomers think wormholes could possibly bridge dimensions, but we don’t have the technology to get close to one or survive it. But random rips appearing in the woods? It sounds more like sci-fi horror movie stuff, but sometimes, as stupid as it sounds, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

…..

“Maybe Kwan was right,” Tucker mused when he and Danny exited their cabin the next morning.

There were police officers present, and an ambulance with closed doors was on the far side of the camp. Danny briefly caught sight of an officer speaking to the driver of the ambulance until he noticed the markings on the ambulance were off. After a moment, he realized it belonged to the local Coroner. If that was the case, then there was a body retrieved.

“Well, I don’t know if it was that missing camper, but something definitely happened to someone,” Danny agreed as they made their way to the mess hall for breakfast.

The worst was confirmed as breakfast was finished. Rusty once again stood in front of them. His face was somehow bleaker than the previous day as he confirmed that the missing camper had been found deceased. After the murmurs of the teenagers quieted, he continued, “I know you’re supposed to be out here for fun, but unfortunately, this circumstance happened. We are going to do our best, after the police finish their investigation, to make sure you enjoy yourself here. However, the police have requested to interview each of you to see if anyone you may have seen or heard anything while you were out yesterday. They have also requested that no one go off by themselves while they were under investigation. Please go in groups of at least two. We rangers will also try to be with you when you’re outside of camp, but we may be stretched a little thin during the investigation.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t sending us home,” Tucker mentioned once Rusty was finished speaking and the roar of the students overtook the mess hall.

“I don’t think they can. I mean, the police need to talk to us, and since it’s an open investigation, they won’t want anyone to leave the area until they’ve determined there’s nothing else they can do here,” Sam pointed out as she checked her phone.

“Hey, are you able to get any service?” Danny asked her. “I couldn’t reach my parents yesterday.”

“It’s weird. Yesterday, I could, but I’m having trouble getting service this morning.”

“Now that you mention it, I noticed that too,” Tucker added as he brought out his PDA. “And that’s the thing, with how I modified this, that shouldn’t be the case. I wonder if there’s a disrupter somewhere nearby.”

“You mean a cell phone disrupter?”

He nodded as he leaned towards them. His voice lowered as he glanced around the room. “I’m not sure if anyone else noticed it. I think most of our classmates think it’s just because we’re in the woods, but that’s not really how it works anymore. This is something that should be brought up to the police.”

“I think you’re right,” Danny agreed as he checked his phone again. “And with everything happening, I think I won’t be able to use the ranger’s phone today either.”

….

About an hour after breakfast finished, the police began their interviews of the students. While Danny and his friends waited for their turn, they hung out near the front of the mess hall. They didn’t say much, but instead, they decided to watch the area.

A while later, a long black limousine approached from the only road fit for normal vehicles and came into the camp. A few minutes after it parked, a well-dressed man with silver hair exited. As one of the officers approached the man, Danny finally realized why he recognized him.

“Oh, that’s Vlad. I wonder why he’s here,” he mused as he watched. After a moment, he noticed his friends were gaping at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You know the Vladimir Masters?” Tucker nearly choked. “He’s one of the most influential billionaires in the world!”

“He is? I knew he had money, since he helps fund some of my parents’ experiments, but I didn’t realize it was that much. Anyways, apparently he and my parents went to college together. With how often he visited when we were younger, Jazz and I kind of view him as an uncle.”

“That’s actually pretty impressive. My parents know him due to some of the business galas they’ve attended,” Sam mentioned as a devious smirk crossed her face. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell them that Vlad is your parents’ benefactor. Mother dearest will have a conniption.”

Their conversation turned to what Danny knew of the man, and he answered the best he could. As he thought about it, he realized he didn’t know a lot of personal details about the man. Vlad tended to focus on the people around him and avoid talking about himself. He just figured Vlad was a very private person.

When Vlad finished speaking with the officer, he approached the trio. “Oh, Daniel! What a surprise! I never expected to run into you in a place like this with how protective Maddie is.” His tone was pleasant, but his exaggerated gestures almost made it seem like he was acting.

“We’re here on a school trip. I guess the PTA and teachers managed to convince her and Dad we’d be protected. But why are you here? No offense, but seeing you in the middle of the woods in a suit is weird,” Danny replied nonchalantly. He was used to Vlad’s over the top behavior.

“It’s unfortunate, really,” he explained as he glanced over his shoulder towards the officers. “The gentleman who they found dead works for one of my companies. I came out to see if the police officers required any assistance with resources, funds or otherwise, and offer my services.” As he turned back to face Danny, his eyes widened as he seemingly noticed Sam and Tucker for the first time. “Ah, you must be Daniel’s friends. Where are my manners? I’m Vladimir Masters, but you may call me Vlad.” He extended his hand towards them.

Tucker eagerly took his hand, but Sam was a little more hesitant. “I’m surprised that a big name like yourself personally looks in on their workers,” she told him.

A pleasant hum escaped the man. “I do try to keep tabs on those I employ. This particular incident, however, is extremely tragic and unusual, so I felt it was prudent to personally show my support for those investigating.”

“Yeah? I’ve also heard that killers like to inject themselves into investigations.”

“Sam!?”

“It’s quite alright, Daniel,” Vlad told him as he flashed a pleasant smile. “She does bring up a valid point, and it’s likely I will be asked a few more questions at a later time as a result. However, I can assure you that I was in my office a few states away when Mr. Aiden Jones was reported missing. Hmm, I also think I may have a word with your teacher. With a tragic event like this, it’s unwise to have you remain here when it is unclear if it is safe or not. Now, if you excuse me.”

As Vlad began to turn, Danny took a step closer as a thought crossed his mind. “Oh, Vlad, I hate to ask, but would you happen to have a phone I can use to call my parents? Mom left me a frantic message, but my phone’s not working, and I can’t use the Rangers’ phone right now…”

The man appraised him for a moment. “I don’t have a phone on me right now, but I do have one in my car. While I don’t think your teacher or the police would find it appropriate to let you in my car at the moment, I can at least give them a call for you.”

“Thank you!”

Vlad flashed him a large grin. “Anything for you, dear boy. But, I really must be off. Ta!” With that, he walked away, approached one of the nearby rangers, and struck up a conversation.

“So that’s Vlad Masters,” Tucker mentioned once he was certain the man was out of earshot. “I can’t figure out if I like him or not.”

“I don’t. It felt like everything he said and did was an act,” Sam told them as she crossed her arms. Her eyes never left the billionaire.

Danny just shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets. “He’s always been like that. I don’t really know if it’s because being involved in business, or because he lives alone.”

“He lives alone? No family or anything?”

“Nope,” he replied as he popped the ‘p’. “He’s never had anyone as long as I’ve known him. Both Dad and Mom like to ask him about whether or not he’s dating anyone whenever he’s stopped by, but he’s always answered that he’s too busy. I think Mom’s tried to hook him up with a few dates, but it never panned out.”

A frown crossed Tucker’s features as he glanced at the man. “You’d think he’d have people throwing themselves at him because of his wealth.”

“That might be why he isn’t seeing anyone. Anyways, any thoughts on what happened?”

“Not really,” Sam replied as she glanced towards some of the rangers and police. “If they thought it was just an accident, you’d think they’d come right out and tell us. I’m going to assume they aren’t sure, so they need to try to rule out a few things before they tell us anything.”

“Looks like we’ll have a chance to ask one of the officers. I guess it’s our turn to be interviewed,” Danny mentioned as one of the officers caught their attention and beckoned them.

A few minutes later, the officer took them into the mess hall. It was fairly routine. The officer, Malik, assured them they weren’t in any trouble or suspects. He just wanted to know if they had seen or heard anything while they were out on the trails the previous day. They explained that everything seemed normal, and they couldn’t recall seeing anything out of the norm. Tucker did mention that the three of them were having trouble with their cell phones.

Officer Malik made a strange expression at the new information, but did say anything regarding it. He just thanked them for their time, and sent them on their way.

Before he left the room, Danny spoke up, “Sir, do you know what happened? Should we be worried?”

He was silent for a few moments before replying. “We’re pretty sure he just had a bad accident, but, since we don’t have an official answer yet, we do have to investigate and take statements. Sorry this had to happen while you kids are on a trip.”

Danny thanked him and hurried out the door with his friends. “So, what do you think?” he asked as he checked behind him to make sure no one was paying attention to them as they walked behind one of the cabins.

“That’s pretty cut and dry, isn’t it?” Tucker asked as he scratched his head. “Accidents do happen.”

“Yeah, but the officer didn’t reassure us it was safe. Danny, you noticed it too?” When he nodded, Sam continued, “I think they’re trying to downplay what might have happened which worries me. And since our cell phones still aren’t working properly, it makes me more anxious. I guess Vlad was right. We shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Sam! Don’t say things like that!” The scared whine in Tucker’s voice almost made Danny laugh. “You’ll see, Dash and his jerk friends will use it to tell ghost stories tonight. I not going to be happy if I lose sleep.”

“And here I thought you liked scary stories.”

“Not when we’re smack dab in the middle of the beginning of a real life horror movie!”

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amplesalty · 3 years

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Halloween 2021 - Day 19 - Train to Busan (2016)

Zombies…on a train? Could be worse, I suppose, it could be Snakes on a Train…

I joke about that zombies on a train thing but maybe that actually kinda works in a weird way. If it wasn’t for the fact this movie seems to be generally quite well regarded, that would throw you off a little if that was pitched to you as the premise. “A bunch of people are caught up in the middle of an unfolding zombie apocalypse whilst on a train” could easily be written off as a cheap B movie churned out to make a quick buck on DVD. Train of the Dead or something like that. Actually, hang on…

Okay, so there is a Train of the Dead, a Thai movie from the mid 00’s that seems to be more focused on ghosts than zombies. Not that you’d know from this alternate artwork complete with CGI zombie and ripoff artwork from the Dead Rising 3 poster. That game didn’t even come out for another 6 years, you’re telling me someone went and made another poster for this movie just to cash in on DR3?

Train to Busan is also of Asian origin, hailing from South Korea. Always nice to mix things up with something from a foreign land, I did watch The Host a number of years ago which was also made in South Korea. Across domestic and international, Train to Busan proved to be a success both commercially and critically and spawned some follow ups, a prequel documenting the initial outbreak and a standalone sequel that came out last year to much lesser success.

A couple of the actors here apparently also featured in a movie called The Crucible (AKA Silenced) some years prior which told the real life events at a school for the hearing-impaired where some of the teachers were sexually assaulting the pupils. Well that sounds remarkably grim.

Let’s switch back to the much more uplifting topic of zombies, shall we? Such as the lesser spotted zombie deer that comes back to life after being run over by a careless truck driver who is too busy trying to answer his phone to notice the deer wandering across the road. As he drives away, we see the deer re-animate, shifting all its limbs and neck back into place before setting off on it’s merry way again, albeit with some majorly glazed over eyes. So, was it a zombie before or was being run over the catalyst for it to turn undead? Was this thing maurading around biting other animals or even people? I feel like we’ve missed something much more visually interesting here.

Instead we get the re-emergence of Hollywood Dad in Korean form as Seo Seok-woo is spending just far too much time at the office and doesn’t get to see his little girl. We even get told he misses his kid’s big recital and has to watch it on camcorder instead. He buys her a Nintendo Wii for her birthday but she’s a little confused since he already bought her one earlier this year for ‘Childrens Day’. Like you kids don’t have enough presents as it is, now you want a whole day dedicated to you? I’m curious as to where this guy is getting all these pristine boxed Wii’s at this point though, this is like 10 years after it came out. Unless this is one of those weird situations where it took ages for it to be released, like I think China had some sort of ban on games consoles at one point and everyone just started releasing everything once it lifted. Clearly Nintendo should have capitalized here and did some product place, have her playing Wii U instead. She could have been playing Zombie U! There are some 3DS XL adverts in the background later on so maybe they did have something going on? Still, presents, negligent fathers, deer based cameos…this really is like Jingle All the Way.

His little girl is generally a bit upset and wants to head back to her Mother’s for her birthday, hence taking the train to Busan. Just as the train is departing, we start to get a little insight into the unfolding events as one of the station workers sees a disturbance and a crowd of people forming. Then, as the train starts pulling away, he gets pounced out of nowhere.

An injured lady sneaks aboard and from there the shit hits the proverbial fan as she bites someone, who then bites someone else and everything goes to hell. The movie subscribes to the ‘fast’ zombie idea which does make everything more intense. You’ll have someone go down, then bolt back upright, snapping their neck back into place before setting after their next victim. There’s almost a sense of World War Z to it at times with the speed at which these zombies can move and there’s a few occasions where they pile up on top of each other, not really for strategic effect as in World War Z but it certainly does create a strong visual just from this absolute swam of the undead.

Busan does succeed where many other zombie movies fail by actually creating some emotional investment in its characters. Our protagonists self centeredness is underlined when he briefly locks out some survivors from one section of the train, or telling his daughter to only look out for herself from now on but he slowly comes to change as the movie goes on.

Mainly because he has a shining example to follow in the form of Yoon Sang-hwa who aside from looking very dapper in his padded jacket type thing, will often lead from the front and not hesitate in trying to help others. Like, there’s this whole section where he, Seok-woo and another survivor need to fight through to another part of the train to help another group and he just wades in with just his fists. But that’s all he needs really, sending the undead flying with a single punch or snapping their necks. Guy is a total badass. Has a very dry personality as well and has a bit of a thing with Seok-woo, pretty much spending the whole movie calling him an asshole.

Not content with dealing with the human element, the movie is strong with it’s action as well. Not just with the generic chase or fight scenes one might expect from a zombie movie, you also get this whole train crash scene which leads to this whole escalating tension where a group are pinned under this train carriage which not only threatens to give way and crush them, there are also zombies on the inside that are threatening to break through the windows and get to them. As if the zombie apocalypse wasn’t enough, it just feels like there’s this ever growing crescendo of events that these people have to deal with.

And that ending…I don’t know if I could have coped if those guys hadn’t made it through after going through all that.

#Halloween 2021 #Train to Busan

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dollvein · 3 years

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RISEN: THE DAY THAT DEATH DIED

By Fred H. Berger

Yes, I have quite literally walked with angels and wrestled with demons, not on purpose but through circumstances which were not of my choosing. Perhaps it was my position as publisher and editor of the quintessential goth magazine Propaganda which drew them and other mysterious entities and phenomena to me. It’s amazing how those kinds of experiences can open your eyes and pull you in ever deeper, revealing through observable cause and effect reality and deducible facts what others can only arrive at through imagination, hallucination or blind faith.

One such incident, which was particularly profound, resulted from the overdose death of a very close friend in 1981 – he was only 18 years old and his name was Scott. It was the greatest tragedy of my life up to that time, particularly because of his tender years and the special bond that we had. When I went to the morgue with his grandfather to identify the body I was astonished by his extreme pallor, bluing lips and dark sunken eye sockets. I found the sight of him lying on the gurney, with a white linen sheet covering his wet just bathed body up to his chest, serenely and hauntingly beautiful. Although emotionally numb at that point, when I returned home I went into seclusion for three days during which I wept continuously and uncontrollably. I finally snapped out of it just in time to attend the wake, and thereafter slowly adjusted to the emptiness of life without him. For years thereafter I had extraordinarily vivid dreams of Scott, and considered them a resurrection of sorts. Little did I know that these dreams would prove to be incredibly prescient in that I would meet someone in 1990 who not only bore an uncanny resemblance to my dearly departed friend, but who also had the same first name, a very similar personality, and a birthday which was just one day removed, although they were born eleven years apart. This chance encounter came the day after I finished reading the 1982 vampire novel “The Delicate Dependency” by Michael Talbot, whose protagonist was a young apprentice and model of Leonardo da Vinci. The character Niccolo is the undead androgynous youth you posed for the angel figure in da Vinci’s painting “Madonna of the Rocks,” and in my mind's eye he appeared as the deceased Scott. When I’d finished the book, and saw the living Scott at a barbeque the next day, I was utterly shocked, and even frightened, thinking I had seen a ghost. Shortly thereafter he was modeling for me and appeared extensively in Propaganda Magazine over the next five years. Not only was he among the top-3 most popular Propaganda models ever, but he also worked for the magazine as a reporter and office assistant – in effect assuming the same role for me as Niccolo had for Leonardo in “The Delicate Dependency.” Moreover, it was as if I had retrieved my beloved from the realm of the dead, something which his doppelgänger acknowledged but never opened himself entirely to, which was probably for the best all things considered.

Although the tale of the two Scotts was limited to my own personal experience, and was not a true resurrection in the strictest sense of the word, I can’t help but see it in biblical terms as a metaphor for Christ’s triumph over death. From a purely historical perspective, the Crucifixion and Resurrection of Jesus marked the most pivotal point in human affairs, so much so that the timeline of events is divided into two eons – BC and AD. But an occurrence of such monumental import must surely have empirical evidence to substantiate the extraordinary claims made in the Gospels – and indeed it does, namely Jesus’ burial cloth, Christendom’s holiest relic known universally as the Shroud of Turin. Bearing an intricately detailed photo-realistic image of a crucified man, it has been determined through extensive scientific research since the 1970s that his likeness was not created with paint, dyes or pigments – instead it was lightly burned into the fabric by a burst of intense electromagnetic radiation. Such a highly distinct visual effect could not be achieved through any naturally occurring process or pre-20th century technology, and even if such a phenomenon or method existed in ancient or medieval times it begs the question – why is the Shroud of Turin the only artifact of its kind in the entire world. Furthermore, it reveals a body bearing all the injuries that Christ is said to have suffered due to his torture and crucifixion, including those unique to himself, specifically cuts from the crown of thorns and the lance that pierced his torso. With respect to its age, the lineage can be definitively traced from 13th century Constantinople to 14th century France and finally to 16th century Italy where it has since resided in the city of Turin. But it was not until 1988 that it was subjected to carbon-dating, when it was mistakenly concluded that it originated in the 13th century – the error occurring due to the test sample being taken from a piece of fabric that had been mended during the Middle Ages. This fallacy was not officially acknowledged until 2005 at which time another carbon-14 test was requested, but it was then learned that the relic had been fumigated with pesticides three years earlier due to an insect infestation, thus hopelessly corrupting it from the standpoint of such a dating method. Even so, over the next five years researchers used alternate means to ascertain the age of the Shroud including chemical and stress tests that placed its origin in the 1st century, which correlates with the year of the Crucifixion – 33 AD. During these last tests, the means by which the image of the corpse had been reproduced on the fabric were duplicated for the first time by bombarding a facsimile of the body with enough electromagnetic radiation to kill a man, except in this case it was used to prove a process by which a man may have been raised from the dead. The result was an image that approached the lifelike detail of the one appearing on Christ’s burial cloth, and which also possessed its remarkable and totally unique 3D properties. No matter how one wants to interpret these findings, the fact remains that mainstream science for the most part now considers the Shroud of Turin to be the world’s most significant preternatural artifact, meaning there is no way to determine at the present time just how such a thing could have come to be in the first place.

In conclusion, these were too tangibly real instances, one in the microcosm the other in the macrocosm, that may have not only mocked Death, but heralded its demise and the breaking of its monopoly as the final arbiter. This is the essence of the Easter celebration, and the hope of all mankind.

Left photo: The Shroud of Turin displays the bloody image of a man who was tortured and crucified according to the description of the Passion of Christ in the Gospels. For the full-body image see the comments section below this article.

Right photo: Propaganda supermodel Scott Crawford appeared extensively in the printed and video versions of Propaganda Magazine from 1991 to 1995. (Photo by Fred H. Berger, 1995)

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imaginetonyandbucky · 3 years

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Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 3: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

by @dracusfyre

Weeks later, Tony was staring at the picture of Maria, Ana, and Jarvis on his nightstand while he waited for the woman in bed beside him to fall asleep, listening to her breathing until it steadied and slowed. The picture was barely more than a square-shaped shadow in the darkness of his room, too dimly lit for him to see it properly, but he knew what it looked like, the curve of every smile and the lines at the corners of his mother’s eyes. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes and concentrated he could remember how happy he’d been when this photo was taken; on good days, the memory made him smile, but on nights like tonight he was reminded that this photo came from a whole other lifetime and that all the people in it were dead. Nights like tonight he wondered if he’d ever be that happy again and debated whether he should keep the damn thing at all. With a silent sigh, he rolled over to stare at the ceiling and tried to think of the woman’s name so that he could write her a note for the morning, but it wouldn’t come to him. He wondered if he could get away with something generic or not mentioning a name at all, and finally just decided to have Ms. Potts deal with it.

When he was sure she was asleep, he slid out from beneath the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he slipped out of the bedroom. He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his face with his hands as he turned on the coffee pot; he’d hoped to get some sleep tonight, but apparently no such luck.

He stood in the dark kitchen for as long as it took for the coffee to brew, watching the green digits on the oven tick away the minutes. The spitting and burbling of the coffee pot and the slight hum of the refrigerator kept the silence from being too oppressive, while moonlight from the windows cast an intermittent streak of bright white over the floor and countertop as clouds came and went across the sky. Nights were always the worst because the ghosts always came out at night; the quiet stillness made his thoughts that much louder and the loneliness that much harder to bear.

Finally the coffee was done; he filled up a thermos and went down to his workshop, breathing a little easier as JARVIS turned the lights on as he opened the door. He sipped on the coffee as he wandered through the projects in various stage of completion, running idle fingertips over pieces that needed to be attached, parts to be machined, circuits assembled; some of these were for Stark Industries, some for Tony’s own curiosity, but one or two were for Stane. He avoided those for now, not interested in making his dark mood any worse.

On the far side of the workshop that doubled as his garage, Howard’s classic hot rod was still partially disassembled as Tony tried to find the source of a persistent oil leak. That was as good a project as any to pass the hours, and maybe if he was lucky, he would be able to catch a few hours of rest on the couch before morning.

Tony woke up as Ms. Pott’s heels rang out on the stairs coming down to the workshop, jarring him out of an unpleasant dream that dissipated upon waking. Sitting up, he stretched, wincing at the crick in his neck and the headache behind his eyes.

“Late night, Boss?” Ms. Potts said, voice cool. Tony’s eyebrows drew together; usually when she found him asleep in the work shop she greeted him with brisk sympathy and a soft smile. Then he remembered the lady upstairs that he’d texted her about in the middle of the night and let out a silent sigh.

“Good morning to you too,” he said. Her only response was to give him a dry look as she made room for a stack of papers and started going over his schedule for today. No mercy from her, then, he concluded with a quirk of his lips. He stood and shuffled over to the half-drunk thermos of coffee from last night and drank it cold, rifling through the papers as he listened with half an ear.

Partway through the stack, he froze. It was a newspaper, folded innocuously amid quarterly reports and departmental audits. He reached out to pick it up and realized his hands were shaking. Closing his eyes, he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to get his heart to stop racing. Ms. Potts was still talking as he spread out the newspaper and flipped through it quickly; whatever Obadiah was trying to tell him, it wouldn’t be subtle.

There – page 10. An article circled twice in black pen. Defector Assassinated in Trafalgar Square. Tony didn’t need to read the article to get the message. The only way out of Hydra is death. Obadiah liked leaving him these little reminders, tugging Tony’s leash a little so he wouldn’t forget that it was there.

“And then, of course, you have the flight to Afghanistan this afternoon,” Ms. Potts said, and Tony barely kept himself from cursing. “Remember?”

“Of course,” Tony lied. “The, uh..."

"Jericho demonstration,” Ms. Potts finished for him.

"Right." He put the coffee down, suddenly queasy. The demo was ostensibly for the US military to sell the weapons, but Tony knew that they weren't the real audience; the Russians, the Iranians, and every other little tin-pot dictator would be sent videos and specs from the inaugural firing of Stark Industries’ latest missile tech, and then the real bidding war would start. Hydra would rake in more money and influence, Stane’s star would continue to rise, and then Stane would come over with a pizza and some whiskey and talk about how glad he was that he hadn’t killed Tony when he was younger (Pierce wanted me to, but I said no, this boy’s got a gift. Tony had heard it many times).

“I have a few things for you to sign before your trip,” Ms. Potts said, reading off the titles of the documents as she set them in front of him to sign. “And there are some charities that are asking you for personal donations, did you want to-”

“Sure,” Tony said, flipping through the documents to make sure he’d signed everything, the blanks helpfully highlighted for his convenience.

“Sure? What does that mean, ‘sure’? You haven’t even looked at the list.”

Tony handed her back the papers and smiled brightly. “Send them all a donation, however much they are asking for.”

“All of them?” Pepper asked skeptically.

“Do I have enough money?”

“Well, of course, but-”

“Then send them all something,” Tony said. It was blood money anyway, might as well do some good with it. “Pick your favorites and send them double.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said after a moment, clearly deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight.

“Anything else?” He asked, pasting a smile on his face.

She checked her watch. “You’ve got thirty minutes before London calls,” she said pointedly, and Tony got her point and went to take a shower and get dressed.

The fact that he was flying to Afghanistan with Rhodey was the only thing that made the trip bearable; dread was a rock in his stomach, a weight on his limbs, growing worse every time he looked at the clock. The next day, as the wind from the Jericho’s blast ruffled his clothes, Tony felt a chill despite the heat of the Afghan desert. Amidst the excited chatter of the military officers, Tony moved mechanically to the portable bar, pouring himself a stiff rum and coke to try to wash the taste of shame from his mouth.

“Good job, Tones,” Rhodey said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Everyone’s going to be talking about this for weeks, we’re all very excited.”

“It’s what we do,” Tony said with a thin smile, saluting his friend with his glass. Behind his dark wraparound sunglasses, the world seemed one step removed, muffled and dim; he felt like he was watching himself as he smiled and shook hands with the Army and Air Force brass, as they all climbed back into the Humvees, as he joked with the awed soldiers riding with him (keep them laughing, they don’t see when they laugh. He’d learned that in college).

But when the vehicle in front of them flipped over with a bone-rattling roar and burst of flame, he was thrown back into his body with a gasp. Suddenly the world was too close, too loud, too much; the roar of gunfire, the painful glare of the sun on white sand, the acrid scent of burnt metal. The screaming and shouting, the heat of the sand, and the way the S of Stark Industries stood out against the silver metal of the missile as it ticked loudly next to him-

#tony stark #Bucky Barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron

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grigori77 · 4 years

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Summer 2020′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 2)

10. BODY CAM – in the face of the current pandemic, viral outbreak cinema has become worryingly prescient lately, but as COVID led to civil unrest there were a couple of films in this summer that REALLY seemed to me to put their finger on the pulse of another particularly shitty zeitgeist. Admittedly this one highlights a problem that’s been around for a good while, but it came along at just the right time to gain particularly strong resonance, filtering its message into the most reliable form of allegorical social commentary – horror. The vengeful ghost trope has become pretty familiar over the past decade or so, but by marrying it with the corrupt cop thriller veteran horror screenwriter Nicholas McCarthy (The Pact) has given it a nice fresh spin, and the end result was, for me, a real winner. Mary J. Blige plays troubled LAPD cop Renee Lomito-Smith, back on the beat after an extended hiatus following a particularly harrowing incident, just as fellow officers from her own precinct begin to die violent deaths under mysterious circumstances, and the only clues are weird, haunting camera footage that only Renee and her new partner, rookie Danny Holledge (Paper Towns and Death Note’s Natt Wolff), manage to see before it inexplicable wipes itself. Something supernatural is stalking the City of Angels at night, and it’s got a serious grudge against local cops as the increasingly disturbing investigation slowly brings an act of horrific police brutality to light, until Renee no longer knows who in her department she can trust. This is one of the most insidious scare-fests I’ve enjoyed so far this year, sophomore director Malik Vitthal (Imperial Dreams) weaving an effective atmosphere of pregnant dread and wire-taut suspense while delivering some impressively hair-raising shocks (the stunning minimart sequence is the film’s undeniable highlight), while the ghostly threat is cleverly thought-out and skilfully brought to “life”. Blige delivers another top-drawer performance, giving Renee a winning combination of wounded fragility and steely resolve that makes for a particularly compelling hero, while Wolff invests Danny with skittish uncertainty and vulnerability in one of his strongest performances to date, and Dexter star David Zayas brings interesting moral complexity to the role of their put-upon superior, Sergeant Kesper. In these times of heightened social awareness, when the police’s star has become particularly tarnished as unnecessary force, racial profiling and cover-ups have become major hot-button topics, the power and relevance of this particular slice of horror cinema cannot be denied.

9. BLOOD QUANTUM – it certainly has been a great year for horror, and for most of the summer this was the genre leader, a compellingly fresh take on the zombie outbreak genre with a killer hook. Canadian writer-director Jeff Barnaby (Rhymes for Young Ghouls) has always clung close to his Native American roots, and he brings strong social relevance to the intriguing early 80s Canadian setting as a really nasty zombie virus wreaks havoc in the Red Crow Indian Reservation and its neighbouring town. It soon becomes clear, however, that members of the local tribe are immune to the infection, a revelation with far-reaching consequences as the outbreak rages unchecked and society begins to crumble. Barnaby pulls off some impressive world-building and creates a compellingly grungy post-apocalyptic vibe as the story progresses, while the zombies themselves are a visceral, scuzzy bunch, and there’s plenty of cracking set-pieces and suitably full-blooded kills to keep the gore-hounds happy, while the horror has real intelligence behind it, the script posing interesting questions and delivering some uncomfortable answers. The characters, meanwhile, are a well-drawn, complex bunch, no black-and-white saviours among them, any one of them capable of some pretty inhuman horrors when the chips are down, and the cast, an interesting mix of seasoned talent and unknowns, all excel in their roles – Michale Greyeyes (Fear the Walking Dead) and Forrest Goodluck (The Revenant) are the closest things the film has to real heroes, the former a fallible everyman as Traylor, the small-town sheriff who’s just trying to do right by his family, the latter unsure of himself as his son, put-upon teenage father-to-be Joseph; meanwhile, Olivia Scriven is tough but vulnerable as his pregnant white girlfriend Charlie, Stonehorse Lone Goeman is a grizzled badass as tough-as-nails tribal elder Gisigu, and Kiowa Gordon (probably best known for playing a werewolf in the Twilight movies) really goes to the dark side as Joseph’s delinquent half-brother Lysol, while there’s a memorably subtle turn from Dead Man’s Gary Farmer as unpredictable loner Moon. This is definitely one of the year’s darkest films – by and large playing the horror straight, it tightens the screws as the situation grows steadily worse, and almost makes a virtue of wallowing in its hopeless tone – but there’s a fatalistic charm to all the bleakness, even in the downbeat yet tentatively hopeful climax, while it’s hard to deny the ruthless efficiency of the violence on display. This certainly isn’t a horror movie for everyone, but those with a strong stomach and relatively hard heart will find much to enjoy here. Jeff Barnaby is definitely gonna be one to watch in the future …

8. PALM SPRINGS – the summer’s comedy highlight kind of snuck in under the radar, becoming something of an on-demand secret weapon with all the cinemas closed, and it definitely deserves its swiftly growing cult status. You certainly can’t possibly believe it’s the feature debut of director Max Barbakow, who shows the kind of sharp-witted, steady-handed control of his craft that’s usually the province of far more experienced talents … then again, much of the credit must surely go to seasoned TV comedy writer Andy Siara (Lodge 49), for whom this has been a real labour of love he’s been tending since his film student days. Certainly all that care, nurture and attention to detail is up there on the screen, the exceptional script singing its irresistible siren song from the start and providing fertile ground for its promising new director to spread his own creative wings. The premise may be instantly familiar – playing like a latter-day Saturday Night Live take on Groundhog Day (Siara admits it was a major influence), it follows the misadventures of Sarah (How I Met Your Mother’s Cristin Miliota), the black sheep maid of honour at her sweet little sister Tala’s (Riverdale’s Camila Mendes) wedding to seemingly perfect hunk Abe (Supergirl’s Superman, Tyler Hoechlin), as she finds herself repeating the same high-stress day over and over again after being trapped in a mysterious cosmic time-loop along with slacker misanthrope Nyles (Brooklyn Nine Nine megastar Andy Samberg), who’s been stuck in this same situation for MUCH longer – but in Barbakow and Siara’s hands it feels fresh and intriguing, and goes in some surprising new directions before the well-worn central premise can outstay its welcome. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the cast are uniformly excellent – Miliota is certainly the pounding emotional heart of the film, effortlessly lovable as she flounders against her lot, then learns to accept the unique possibilities it presents, before finally resolving to find a way out, while Samberg has rarely been THIS GOOD, truly endearing in his sardonic apathy as it becomes clear he’s been stuck like this for CENTURIES, and they make an enjoyably fiery couple with snipey chemistry to burn; meanwhile there’s top-notch support from Mendes and Hoechlin, The OC’s Peter Gallagher as Sarah and Tala’s straight-laced father, the ever-reliable Dale Dickey, a thoroughly adorable turn from Jena Freidman and, most notably, a full-blooded scene-stealing performance from the mighty J.K. Simmonds as Roy, Nyles’ nemesis, who he inadvertently trapped in the loop before Sarah and is, understandably, none too happy about it. This really is an absolute laugh-riot, today’s more post-modern sense of humour allowing the central pair (and their occasional enemy) to indulge in even more extreme consequence-free craziness than Bill Murray ever got away with back in the day, but like all the best comedies there’s also a strong emotional foundation under the humour, leading us to really care about these people and what happens to them, while the story throws moments of true heartfelt power at us, particularly in the deeply cathartic climax. Ultimately this was one of the summer’s biggest surprises, a solid gold gem that I can’t recommend enough.

7. THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME – the summer’s other heavyweight Zeitgeist fondler is a deeply satirical chunk of speculative dystopian sci-fi clearly intended as a cinematic indictment of Trump’s broken America, but it became far more potent and prescient in these … ahem … troubled times. Adapted by screenwriter Karl Gadjusek (Oblivion, Stranger Things, The King’s Man) from the graphic novel by Rick Remender and Greg Tocchini for underrated schlock-action cinema director Olivier Megaton (Transporter 3, Colombiana, the last two Taken films), this Netflix original feature seemed like a fun way to kill a cinema-deprived Saturday night in the middle of the Lockdown, but ultimately proved to have a lot more substance than expected. It’s powered by an intriguing premise – in a nearly lawless 2024, the US government is one week away from implementing a nationwide synaptic blocker signal called the API (American Peace Initiative) which will prevent the public from being able to commit any kind of crime – and focuses on a strikingly colourful bunch of outlaw antiheroes with an audacious agenda – prodigious Detroit bank robber Bricke (Édgar Ramiréz) is enlisted by Kevin Cash (Funny Games and Hannibal’s Michael Carmen Pitt), a wayward scion of local crime family the Dumois, and his hacker fiancée Shelby Dupree (Material Girl’s Anna Brewster) to pull off what’s destined to be the last great crime in American history, a daring raid on the night of the signal to steal over a billion dollars from the Motor City’s “money factory” and then escape across the border into Canada. From this deceptively simple premise a sprawling action epic was born, carried along by a razor sharp, twisty script and Megaton’s typically hyperbolic, showy auteur directing style and significant skill at crafting thrillingly explosive set-pieces, while the cast consistently deliver quality performances. Ramiréz has long been one of those actors I really love to watch, a gruff, quietly intense alpha male whose subtle understatement hides deep reserves of emotional intensity, while Dupree takes a character who could have been a thinly-drawn femme fetale and invests her with strong personal drive and steely resolve, and there’s strong support from Neil Blomkampf regulars Sharlto Copley and Brandon Auret as, respectively, emasculated beat cop Sawyer and brutal Mob enforcer Lonnie French, as well as a nearly unrecognisable Patrick Bergin as local kingpin (and Kevin’s father) Rossi Dumois; the film is roundly stolen, however, by Pitt, a phenomenal actor I’ve always thought we just don’t see enough of, here portraying a spectacularly sleazy, unpredictable force of nature who clearly has his own dark agenda, but whom we ultimately can’t help rooting for even as he stabs us in the back. This is a cracking film, a dark and dangerous thriller of rare style and compulsive verve that I happily consider to be Megaton’s best film to date BY FAR – needless to say it was a major hit for Netflix when it dropped, clearly resonating with its audience given what’s STILL going on in the real world, and while it may have been roundly panned in reviews I think, like some of the platform’s other more glossy Original hits (Bright springs to mind), it’s destined for a major critical reappraisal and inevitable cult status before too long …

6. HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close. And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital. The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent top-notch revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed. That said, every single one of them is an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III; ultimately, however, the show (and the film) belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, TV’s Snowpiercer) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable eventual American President Thomas Jefferson. Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

5. SPUTNIK – the summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) is a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost totally missed, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and being completely bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary. The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev. Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong. One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now playing host to something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far darker plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove to be far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy. Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to ultimately, tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a subtly nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that makes him one of my top screen villains for the year. Guaranteed to go down as one of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for the remainder of the year and beyond, and I wish utmost success to all the creative talents involved in the future. The Invisible Man still rules the roost in the year’s horror stakes, but this runs a VERY close second …

4. GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter, others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular. It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended. Thankfully the final film was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats. Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed Greyhound, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command. As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous mid stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German subs that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers. Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining that tension for the remainder of its trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load. Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind the similarly unflappable turn he delivered in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members do make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, powerful, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick. I’m so glad it made the cut for the season …

3. PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back into late autumn in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect over the main blockbuster season were pretty thin on the ground, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU-take Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and I’ve already made my feelings clear on the frustration of The New Mutants – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it. New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you won’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot. Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, an NOPD detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when powered crims cause a disturbance. Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of next year’s incendiary DCEU headline act The Batman) takes his script in some very interesting directions and poses some fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of. Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose explosive pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated “cinematic” fun I had this summer. Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

2. THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’s undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular title with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping good ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in this thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered. Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan. The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here. Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’. They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story. Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large. After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

1. TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly did save our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that the season’s ultimate top-spot winner was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with. I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night out big screen EXPERIENCE since March. Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT. Still with us? Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who may be the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s HImesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine. The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even without that amazing new teaser trailer making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic. As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual masterpiece and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in some seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some truly mesmerising visuals. Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he has good reason, currently working on his dream project, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his regular collaborations with Ryan Coogler on the likes of Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as truly awesome work on The Mandalorian) makes for a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence as a film this is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven. As a piece of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that really HAS TO BE experienced on the big screen. So put your snobbery at post-lockdown restrictions aside for the moment and get yourself down to your nearest cinema so you can experience it for yourself. You won’t be disappointed. Right now, this is my movie of the year, and with only one possible exception, I really don’t see that changing …

#movies 2020 #body cam #body cam (2020)#blood quantum #blood quantum movie #palm springs #palm springs movie #the last days of american crime #hamilton #hamilton movie #sputnik #sputnik movie #greyhound #greyhound movie #project power #the old guard #tenet #tenet movie #awesome sauce

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darklingichor · 3 years

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Odd Thomas, Forever Odd & Brother Odd by Dean Koontz *MAJOR SPOILERS* Long post

I've written a little bit about these before. My goal was to listen to all seven of the Odd books plus the two short stories... I couldn't make myself do that.

I use to really love those books. I use to really love Dean Koontz, just recently, the writing has started to annoy me. Since I haven't read any of his new stuff since Saint Odd came out, I can't say it's because the writing has changed. I think I have changed, I'm just not sure in what way. So, I'm going to look at the first three books in the series because 1. I like them the most (sort of). 2. Because I honestly feel like the series should have either ended there or jumped to Saint Odd. 3. Because I'm going to see if by writing about them, I can figure out why reading Koontz in my 20's was like a breath of fresh air, but in my 30's it feels like when the air conditioner is some how making everything too cold, yet not cooling things down at all: uncomfortable and bafflingly frustrating.

Odd Thomas is a 20 year old fry cook in the small california desert town of Pico Mundo. He's seen as sweet but strange to all but a few people in town. He grew up with a mostly absent father, a crazy mother and a loving but wild grandmother, the last has already gone to the great beyond, so what family he has, he has found.

He has a girlfriend named Stormy, they've been together since they were sixteen, his boss at the Grill where he works, Terry, who has an encyclopedic knowledge of Elvis Presley, a 300 lb mystery writer named P. Oswald Boone (Little Ozzie), his landlady who is afraid she'll turn invisible, and the cheif of police.

Odd also sees ghosts, or The Lingering Dead as he calls them. He trys to help them crossover. Sometimes it's as simple as talking to them (though they don't speak back, "the dead don't talk") oftentimes is complicated and dangerous. Hence why his close relationship with the cheif comes in handy and also why it formed. He has other gifts. The occasional prophetic dream that usually only gives him bits and pieces to work off of, he sees these spectors of calamity that tend to show up right before something bad happens (like an earthquake or a shooting) they are black shadow things that Odd calls Bodochs, and psychic magmatism, where he can find anyone he's looking for by wondering around with a clear picture in mind.

Everyone in his circle knows about his gift other than his landlady who is slightly and gently insane.

There is one other person in his circle, the ghost of Elvis who Odd had been trying to help crossover since he was in highschool.

The first book takes place over the course of three days.

To avoid a blow by blow, I'll summarize. After an eventful morning during which he helped a murdered twelve year old cross over by catching her killer, Odd goes to his shift a the Grill. There, he sees a creepy little man that reminds him if a mold and fungus, followed by a group of Bodochs. He finishes his shift, goes looking for the guy he's dubed Fungus Man.

He eventually finds his way to Fungus Man's house, breaks in and finds it unnaturally cold and silent. He discovers a room that is pitch black except for a small red light. He soon finds that what has made this room so black and the house so cold and quiet is the mob of Bodochs occupying it. After the Bodochs stream out, Odd is able to see that the room is an office and Fungus Man (aka Bob Roberts) is obsessed with serial and mass murderers, he has a file cabinet full of folders on them and posters of famous murders on his wall. Bob seems to be planning something, but Odd doesn't know what, as his only clue is a planner page in a folder from the killer cabinet. The folder is labeled with Bob's name and the date is two days away.

A series of happenings eventually leads to odd trying to stop a horrifying plan

*SPOILERS STOP READING RIGHT HERE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW THE END*

So, Bob is a satanist in cahoots with a couple of other satanists to shoot up and blow up the Pico Mundo mall, among other places. He is able to stop them from completing their goal, but some people do die, including Stormy who was working at an ice cream shop at the mall.

Forever Odd

It's months later and Odd has moved into Stormy's apartment. He wakes up to find the ghost of one of his best friends's stepdad at his bedside. Strangely, Danny, a guy with brittle bone disease, with whom Odd grew up, was not mentioned in the last book.

So, the ghost of Danny's stepdad convinces Odd to go to his and Danny's house. Once there, Odd finds stepdad's body and discovers that Danny has been kidnapped.

What follows is a slightly weird story.

Odd eventually finds Danny and his kidnappers. One is a bug-shit woman Danny was talking with on a phone sex line. To impress her he told her about Odd. She's into her own twisted form of the Vudun religion and decides that Odd can show her the lingering dead and wants him become one of her crew. She kidnapped Danny to lure him out.

Danny is rescued, bad guys defeated, and Odd decides he needs to get out of Pico Mundo for a while.

Brother Odd

Odd has spent the last several months at the St. Bartholomew's Abbey, in the California Mountains, as a lay visitor among the monks and nuns. The Abbey is also home to a a community of disabled children. Odd becomes close with four people in particular The Mother superior, The Priest at the head of the monks, Brother Knuckles, an ex mob guy turned monk, and Brother John, a wealthy guy turned monk. Only the first three know of his gift.

Waiting up to see a snow storm break, Odd finds Brother Timothy unconscious or dead on the grounds. He is then clubbed on the back of the head and knocked out. A search for Brother Tim leads to a strange mix of science and the spiritual that I for one found really cool.

** SECOND SPOILER**

Elvis crosses over in this one and Odd contemplates becoming a monk. Two reasons I think that this should have been the last one. Another reason is that he comes very very close to connecting with Stormy though a conduit to the otherside. Third, this is the last book where Odd is truly Odd.

See, Odd hates guns and will only use one as a last resort. In the first, Odd takes out most of the bad guys with a baseball bat, in the second, bug-shit lady was killed by a cougar, the bad guy in this one was killed by someone else.

Although his ability to see and help the lingering dead is not the main focus of the second or the third, it's still something he does. There is character progression from the first to the third. When we meet Odd he is trying to carve out a life dispite his traumatic childhood and while trying to do right with the gifts he has. After he loses Stormy, the second commitment becomes more intense, because of his conviction that the only way he will meet Stormy on the other side is to live his life in the best way he can, and that means using his gifts to help people. He's sadder, slightly less heedful of danger, but still fully committed to flighting the good flight, in his unconventional way.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, in the fourth through the seventh, the train is derailed, possessed, and also on fire.

Not only does his primary gift take a back seat, but the fight he is flighting isn't between the forces of good and evil, or even between justice and injustice, it's a culture war.

And the side of the war that Odd is on is peopled with climate change deniers, dooms day prepers, anti-government people who supply other "good guys" with guns, other anti-personnal gear, tech that circumvents federal guidelines. All the "bad guys" are anyone with any sort of power judges, lawyers, cops, corporations, politicians. Their victims are the hard working Americans, the waitresses, the truck drivers... Strike that. The victims are the Christian hardworking Americans who evedently are being "persecuted in their own country" (this might be a different rant for a different blog but I maintain that there is a big difference between Persecution and Denial of Entitlement. Persecution is being in danger of being harassed, hurt, killed or imprisoned for your beliefs, ethnicity or culture. And when that happens justice is less likely to happen for the person or people targeted. Denial of Entitlement is when a person, or people, cry injustice because they either can't dress up their persecution of others in their beliefs, or can't force those beliefs on others, through law, or through being amazingly obnoxious).

Not only are anyone in power corupt, they are satanists, not are they satanists, they are the same sect of satanists who attacked Pico Mundo, not only are they the same satanists that attacked Pico Mundo, they have an actual connection to Satan. Like they can call up demons and monsters.... Yet for some reason they still use bombs, guns and weponized diseases to wreak havoc.

Now, if Koontz wanted to showcase some characterization of how to fight against a corupt system, that's cool, I mean I'm all for calling out people in power. But this vears into government lizard people territory, and if that was the type of book he wanted to write then that's cool too,but he essentially highjacked Odd's story to do it.

I have a hard time believing that when Odd picked up the ghost of Frank Sinatra at the end of Brother, and walked off into the sunset, that the original intent was to end up in the middle of a plot to plant nukes around the country and then, accompanied by pregnant girl who is some how The Virgin Mary's mother, to a house where time travel is possible and mutant pigs fade in from a post apocalyptic future and want to eat people, where they pick up a sort of dead, sort of immortal child, who is neither of those any more. Only to then to leave them to go on a road trip with an old lady, who some how has connections to the metaphysical, and a microchip planted in her ass that makes it to where she doesn't have to sleep, to rescue kids kidnapped by the powerful satanists to be used as human sacrifice. Along the way, they meet up with some fighters in this coming war, who while they do not wear tin foil hats, they have the cheerfully bloodthirsty air of cult members waiting for the end times. (Side note about the roadtrip book: Deeply Odd is the most boring, yet weird book I have read since Breaking Dawn. Say what you will about the crazy pigs and time travel in Odd Apocalypse, it's at least interesting).

And then to end up back in Pico Mundo to fight said satanists. The in increasingly nonsensical plots really just there to deliver commentary on how the world has gone to shit and everyone is to focused on the material.

Again, remember that Odd is pretty apolitical. He's never voted, owns only the clothes on his back, prefers Shakespeare and old movies to tv, which I figure also includes the news. How does this not equal out to a kid being a patsy for this group, which essentially takes over the narritive. I mean, yeah, he's still doing his thing, but he has many of his moves ditcatated by this group. This includes carrying a gun, all the time.

Again, Odd hates guns. Granted, by the last book, he has spent three books killing people with guns while talking about how much he hates killing people with guns, but up till the last two books, his hatered of guns is seen as a virtue, and then suddenly, he's an idiot if he doesn't arm himself to take a piss.

This makes very little sense to me. Odd is a simple guy, he wants to live his life as long as he has to, do right by the dead and make his way back to Stormy, all the while perfecting his pancake recipe. How the fuck did we get from this to "Everything is shit, there are three type of people, those in power who are working for the devil, those on the side of the angels and the idiots who don't see what's going on. And dispite all the supernatural stuff, we still need to busta cap in someone's ass.

I know that Koontz is Catholic, and I speculate that he had a renewal of his faith somewhere, but also somewhere along the line he took a turn into conservative libertarian territory if that is a thing that can exsist.

I feel like originally, the idea was to have Saint Odd follow Brother Odd, at least in some incarnation. It makes sense, the satanist sect want to come back and finish what was started, and take out the town and Odd, who cocked it up to begin with. In the first book Odd describes Roberts and his cohorts as playing satanists but just using it as a delivery system for their sick want to kill people and be famous for it. It follows that others who are also playing at being satanists would come back to town to get revenge for their fallen brethren. This also trucks with Forever Odd where the bug-shit lady was playing at being a Vudun, and with Brother Odd where people played at being faithful.

This is how ai think it should have gone:

Odd goes from the Abbey, where he is shown, yet again, that evil is a human driven force, that those who wallow in pride, in want of adoration and perfection can be the down fall of themselves and others, back to his home town to defeate these sad delusional people once and for all.

Odd goes home for Christmas at the end of Brother, decides he wants to take vows, and goes about the process of becoming a man of the cloth. Maybe he goes back to St. Bart's, and he figures out a way to help the lingering dead from there, or, after he is confirmed in whatever capacity, he goes back to Pico Mundo and works along side Stormy's priest uncle. He sort of Father Dowlings it until he passes.

Instead, suddenly the structured feel of all of the supernatural things, which (implied by the third book) are based in science and the laws and rules of the universe that God laid down, turns into... Magic?

Doesn't matter how or why, what matters is there is a war! And the little fry cook shall lead them!

Seriously. Five years of Christian School has me seeing the turn that Odd's story takes, a couple of ways.

First it is either an overworked Christ story, where Odd is swept up in a war between the oppressed and the opressers, even though his life and mission is mostly one of mercy. In the end being a sacrifice that saves millions (by preventing the spread out f a weponized strain of rabies) but his sacrifice will only be remembered by a handful of people at first. The difference is of course that Odd buys into the culture war even though it make no sense.

Or, it's a Saint's story. Struggle, strife and miracles. See, it use to be that to be canonized, you had to have three miracles. His miracles? Well, first, his helping of the dead to cross over could be one, the preventing of whatever demon the satanists summoned in Deeply Odd, could be another, and finally, somehow managing to send Little Ozzie the manuscript for Saint Odd after Odd himself had already died, could be the last.

Either way, books four, five, and six are completely unnecessary.

So why does knootz's writing annoy me? It's self righteous and condicending. Poking fun a people who watch tv, enjoy unsophisticated things, bemoaning those who don't see just how stupid it is to buy into media, and how people are just marching their own way to misery because they just don't Get It.

It's the same time of people who look down on adults who do kid stuff sometimes "Why would you read John Green when you can read Dickens? Why would you watch Inside Out when you can watch Citizen Cane?"

Why would you eat coco puffs? Adults don't do that!"

I'm sorry, have I outgrown fun? A book is a book, a movie is a movie, breakfast cereal is breakfast cereal and you should be able to watch anything you want on tv without being shamed by a book that has an exploding cow in it.

#book #books #odd thomas #dean koontz #spoilers #revisit 7 8 and 9 #Book blogging 2021 #revisit

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judgement-free-sideblog · 4 years

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Ghosts from the rainforest

Captain James Conrad x Reader

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, smoking, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

I finally manage to write the end to this tiny fic, I hope you like it, and I'm going to start on my ideas for a Jonathan Pine adventure, but I haven't decide yet.

Chapter 7: Fever [Final]

The helicopter was already on motion, and the rescue crew that Brooks had sent for you were charging everything for the trip. The guys were excited to finally going back home, the Celebes Sea was ahead of you in the military base you were staying, and waiting in the Pacific the majestic USS Constellation (CV-64) waiting to take all of you home.

Home? A country that had make more damage and taken everything from you, your family, and had force you to live away to mend some of the atrocities they had committed in the name of freedom.

"Not looking so charming today are we?" You said to him once he walked in your room to pick up your bags, you have finally stop the hostilities after he had offered you his shoulder to cry while you mourned Shukri on his funeral and after all the physical torture he had endured so you could safely leave Borneo.

He had been clear about letting you stay if that was what you wanted, and even when the rest of the crew asume you were coming back to USA, he knew you would have to say goodbye sooner or later, so instead of telling him all the things your heart was keeping from him you kept teasing him and pretending the chopper was not waiting for him.

"I have a minor headache love, but it's okay, are you ready to say goodbye?" He said and you noted how his temple had a few wrinkles, he was trying to smile over the pain in his head "It's a shame you don't come with us, I have a lot of things I wanted to show you" he grabbed your hand and all your alarms started to scream.

"Conrad are you okay?" Those words were all you have hoped for, however the radiant heat from his skin told you he was not exactly fine. "Dear God you are burning up" You said touching his head and looking desperately for a thermometer in your belongings.

"I like you too doctor, but why don't we wait until we get to the ship, we can share a bunk bed" He was definitely not himself.

"103° damn it Conrad!" You said, and for some oddly reason remember the night he told you about Randa and how much he complained about mosquitoes while he was dressing "Look at me, I'm not kidding, did you take Chloroquine before we leave Malaysia? I told you guys you had to..."

He nodded negative, and before he could speak he simply throw up in the nearest trash bin, making you suspect of the worst, specially since all the medicine was now gone and the only viable solution now was the aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific waiting for you.

"Also you have perfect legs you know that? I could spend my life sleeping on them." He kept saying things like that while you helped him to the heliport "Come here princess your prince charming needs your love" he said trying to kiss you.

"Later dear, preferably when you're not dying or smelling like vomit" you tried to stop him.

"Well you didn't mind me covered in dirt and sweat" He tried again but he stopped to scream "Reg! I love you man, you are like a son to me" and also tried to kiss the boy on the forehead.

"What happened to the Captain?" Slivko asked concerned once you help him to board the chopper while carrying his luggage and your medical bag.

"I have no idea, but I'm afraid it might be Malaria" you said bluntly and all of them looked concerned at you, while he vomited again "Do you have medical equipment here?" You asked the pilot and he only raised his thumb while you make sure he was steady on the helicopter floor, and almost didn't feel the machine take off while you tried to put an IV on his arm.

After one hour that felt like ten you could no longer see the island, only the immensity of the Pacific, and growing in the horizon the USS Constellation, even when you despised war and everything it represented the enormous carrier was enough to let you speechless, specially when a team of nurses and a doctor was already with a stretcher waiting for him.

"It's going to be ok James" you told him holding his hand while the experts rushed him inside.

"You really like men to die quite literally for you right?" He tried to joke, fighting the impulse of vomiting again, "Hey it's okay, I have to take care of you remember?" He smiled and you hold his hand trying to not get on the way of the medical staff, but he was too weak and fall asleep.

After they had stabilized his temperature, and take samples of his blood to determine the pathogen they let you in, the beds inside the medical bay of the ship were oddly spacious, and you could be sited next to him without any other person listening.

"Y/N?" He asked opening his beautiful eyes, "Hey it's okay love, I'm feeling better" He said and tried to reach for the glass of water on the table.

"Let me" You said and put it closer to him, "I know, once they identify the plasmodium they will know what is the best treatment for you, they take test and interrogate all of us, don't tell him I told you but Reles almost passed out when he saw the needle " He attempt to laugh but was still weak so he only smiled.

"Well is rewarding seen you on my dead bed, I'm quite honored, tears look oddly beautiful on you" He said and a small smile form in your lips.

"And you are still delirious" You said looking for a piece of cloth, and cold water from the sink to put on his head. "Here, try to rest, I'll come see you later" you told him but before your hand could leave his head he hold you still "What?"

"I might be dying, so you owe me at least listening me like adults" He said forcing you to stay next to him.

"You are not dying" you said trying to sound like it didn't matter and failing miserably "you are not, but fine. Let's talk" you concede.

"I'm sorry" he started contrary to what you had expected. "I had no idea how you looked before we met, and i was under no circumstances trying to seduce you to lure you back to America" you blush and regret your decision to stay by his side.

"I'm sorry too" You responded after a while "You have done so much helping me, even when half of the trouble I caused was preventable if I haven't trusted in the wrong people." You said and he hold your hand softly, he didn't want to hear about that, and you knew it so you took all the courage you have to continue. "And I'm sorry I over reacted, I am so used to people coming to me with second intentions that I just pushed you away to avoid getting hurt, and I just end up making other people hurt you"

"I'm sorry I make you come to the ship, I knew you wanted to stay" he said sincerely.

"It's okay, I have to make sure you stay alive, you know for the boys, maybe working at Monarch with you and Brooks won't be so bad"

"Well you can always run away from us in Hawaii, or maybe... we could run away together" He gave you a pleading look, and for moment you could imagine that life, keep running away, by his side, the soldier that never came home, and the idealist doctor, and keep leaving ghosts in every island, trying to find happiness apart from the world, but together. He kissed you, but this time it wasn't a lusty hunger kiss, nor passionate and angry like before, it was reassuring and you knew no matter what your answer was, he was on your side, for the first time you had someone on your side "So what do you say?"

But you couldn't answer because out of nowhere your stomach make you nauseous and you rush to the toilet to empty its content.

"Are you okay dear?" He screamed from the bed "I'm trying bloody hard to not take this as criticism"

"I'm okay, but I'm going to check your tests and start taking the pills before I end up confessing my sins on the fever like you" you said and walked out of the bathroom to saw him "We can talk later" you assure him.

You marched inside the medical office and started to look in the cabinets, when the young doctor that had received Conrad walked in.

"I'm sorry, I start feeling the symptoms and I thought it would be better if I start on the chloroquine before it gets worse" you excuse yourself.

"That would be great, if any of you had Malaria" he said offering you a seat that you take since he speak with a Texan accent and an authoritarian voice that made up from his young face "But we test all of you and what our SAS friend has is more likely a stomach flu from some bad shrimp, I was just on my way to tell him." He said and you sigh in relief, but also concerned about your own symptoms

"Oh that's great, but I start barfing too, and I didn't had the shrimp last night" you said and he took out a small file with your name that the nurses had put together earlier.

"Well it may be motion sickness, we are in a boat after all, or maybe... you told the nurse you didn't remember when was your last period?" He said looking the file.

"Well we have been in the jungle almost a month so I wasn't exactly counting" you tried to joke.

"The change of environment can trigger the vomit, or if you had sex in the past three weeks you might be pregnant" He smiled and all the weight of the world fall into your shoulders instantly. "In any case you should rest and let alone my medical cabinets, go with nurse Matthews she will give you some vitamins" he said but you were not longer listening.

No, it couldn't be that, right? You tried to convince your mind, but deep down you knew it was true, what would he think? He was a soldier, a man of the field, not a father, and you were obviously not a mother, what will happen now? Now that he wanted to run away in the world next to you, a baby had a place on that plan?.

Two days later Conrad was out of the medical bay and trying to approach you, offering you a fresh start from the afternoon you pause all those weeks ago in Malaysia.

But the stolen kisses on the hallways, and his nightly incursions on your cabin only made it harder for you to find a way to come clean about your news, even when the idea had already sink in your mind, because it was a baby, and it was his baby, how could you not be happy and grateful? Yet you haven't say anything to him.

Four days later he had spend the whole day walking on the deck with you, like if the planes and choppers were an appropriate sighting for a date.

"We'll be in Hawaii soon" He started "If you want to go out for a walk in the morning and get lost in the jungle we have to star planning now" he said and you were looking at the ocean trying to make up your mind.

"Maybe... I was wondering about the work you do at Monarch, maybe I will give it a chance" you start not sure how the whole we are having a baby situation will fit in your speech "I mean if you want to travel the world it might help to have a paying job for a while" you were nervously touching your hands.

"Of course, also when the baby comes I would like to have a proper house for him to be... or she, I don't care you know? as long as they're healthy" he said and you nodded yes.

"Yeah of course... what??" You look at him and he had the most radiant smile on his face, and he was clearly holding his laugh and apparently tears, of joy? "How do you know?

"Well nurse Matthews saw us kissing and then she complained about how Children this days keep having children out of wedlock" he said and you hide your face on your hands.

"I was really going to tell you... for real is just..." but you didn't have the words in you, and the tears were running on your face

"I know, it's fine, I mean is a little soon but if I'm honest I'm tired of running, and after all we've been trough I couldn't imagine a single person to share this experience with" He said cleaning the tears from your face.

"You sure?" You asked again, needing to hear it from his mouth.

"I'm sure, I fall in love with you when I saw you scaring local vendors in Malaysia and then fighting guerilla liders in Borneo, I even loved you when you vomit after kissing me for real, I'm completely taken by you Y/N"

"I fall in love with you too James" you said, and his expression got serious for a moment. "What?"

"Nothing, is just that I'm going to miss Prince Charming" he said giving you again the disarming smile that had started all this adventure.

The end

@damalseer

@kinghiddlestonanddixon (I hope you like the end)

#captain james conrad x reader #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad x you #james conrad imagine #captain james conrad #james conrad #kong skull island #kong skull island fanfiction #reg slivko #joe reles #glenn mills #tom hiddleston

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screamhole · 3 years

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MY DATE WITH DEATH: A TRUE MEMORY & STORY

Did I ever tell you about my date with Death? Well, it’s a pretty horrible day where I’m at, so what better way to kill it than by spinning up one of my famous stories? And let me tell you, this one spins like a Beyblade in Hell on acid!

Folks, let me tell you about the time I died, and all the fun I had along the way.

It all started in the bathroom, as so many classics do. I was brushing my teeth in the shower, as I am wont to do (note to reader: this means ‘as I want to do’; it looks dumb written out, but it’s actually smart as hell). Shower-brushing is a small time-saving trick of mine, which I never fail to apply on the daily. This day was no exception. I was all over those holy molars of mine when suddenly, I lost my footing on a bar of soap that I stand on (another of my time-saving manoeuvres) and I came tumbling down onto the slip mat. Slip is right, I thought, and would have made a note of that zinger had the toothbrush not become stuck in my windpipe. Choking, as I recall, I scrambled out of the tub and, knowing the house was empty because my wife Angie was at work, I rushed over to the neighbours’ apartment. Maybe they had air at their place, I thought. Sadly, I wasn’t quick enough; I was inches from their door when my body just couldn’t go anymore, and I collapsed on the landing floor. Luckily, I wasn’t naked; I had paused on the way to put on several pairs of pants.

So that was it. Dead. Me. Me = Dead. Except it wasn’t how I expected. I mean, I wasn’t seeing all-nothing, or even all-black. In fact, I got up and saw myself, lying there, all-dead-and-all-soapy. “Ghost!”, I said. And I was right. I was a ghost. A ghost who got to hang around and see it all, as it unfolded over the next few hours: the neighbours finding me, the two police officers standing over my stiff, sud-ridden corpse. “What do you think, Sarge?” said the young one. “Another shower-sex hallway suicide?” “Don’t be stupid, kid” said the sergeant. “This guy’s wearing pants. I think we can chalk it up to a classic toothbrush-in-the-neck life hack gone wrong.” “Good think I put on all those pants” I quipped, realising immediately that it was pointless because they couldn’t hear me. They couldn’t hear me! Damn, that was the deal, wasn’t it? You have to get all of the talking out of the way while you’re livin’. But there was so much I still needed to say about dyin’! This chin could be wagging forever, let me tell you. That’s some deal, huh? The one thing we all want to know about and here I am in the middle of it, with lips too stiff and dead to flap about it. How’s that for ass blastwards? So there I was, with a hell of a story to tell. And I knew there was only one person I’d be able to tell it to.

Whoopi Goldberg.

My grandma was dead. Is dead. She was dead, and now she is dead... again. Am I making sense here? She told me about the first time she died, back in the 90s. She was sucking on a Werther’s Original when it went down the wrong way and got stuck in her toaster and burned her house down. Lying on that hospital bed, she was legally dead for a good 27 minutes before they realised and resuscitated her (I think they were too busy watching some dumb Patrick Swayze movie on the communal television to notice). Thinking back, we all felt like she had gone crazy while she was dead, but now it seems there might have been some true-speak in all that wack-talk of hers. “If you ever die,” she once said to me as a kid, “If you die and you have to say something to a loved one, go to Whoopi Goldberg. I saw it. She helped me tell your grandfather he had soup on his good pants in the hospital, it was driving me crazy and was probably what set me off dying in the first place. I know it will work, son. If you need her, she’ll be there for you”. With those words in my ear, I packed a bag and headed out in search of Whoopi.

I made it to the airport, and was having trouble scanning my passport with no corporeal form, when out of nowhere the whole room grew dim. People froze in motion, and there was an icy chill which took over the whole space. And then, a small light, like from the end of a tunnel, grew from behind the baggage claim. A screeching whistle came with it, before a train of bones roared past my face. The brakes braked, and as the bones ground to a halt out stepped a cloaked figure from the carriage.

“Hello” he said. “You’re dead”.

“I’m dead?” I asked.

“You’re dead” he said. “And I’m Death.”

“You’re dead too?” I asked.

“That’s right, I am Death” he said.

“Me too” I said.

“I doubt it, kid” he said. “Anyway, sorry I’m late. There was some protest at Limbo station. All the staff walked out right after this demon... you know what? Not important. What is important is that you kicked your bucket. So hop on in, pup, next stop is your new forever home: Hell. OH. OH! That is, unless you want to play chess?”

I turned away from the stranger. “Sorry, I don’t play that game… not anymore, that is.” I was kind of hoping that he would dig into my deep dark past relationship with the game of kings.

“Suit yourself, friend” said Death. “Half the pieces are missing anyway. The one chess set on this hell train, you think these devil freaks are gonna put it back neatly? Fat chance. Anyhoodle, let’s get moving, up you come”.

“I’m really going to Hell?”

“Yeah” said Death. “Frickin’ Hell City, USA. And unless you wanna effin’ play chess, kid, I don’t wanna hear any more fuckin’ back talk. Hop the eff on”.

I couldn’t believe it. I had to escape; to re-live, and tell the tale of what death is like, and also what Death is like (note: make clear very handsome in second draft). A plan formed in my head, just like the plan to do a checkmate on the other guy forms in the head of a grand master chess player. “Oh, but Death,” I said “I really do want to play, but like you said we can’t play on that old set. It has no bishops”. “That’s how we like it in Hell,” said Death, “it’s really more of a drinking game. Anyway, I take your point, kid; this chess board sucks. But where do you suggest we find a decent travel chess set at this hour, in this realm of existence? You got one in your great coat?”

“No” I said. “But I think I have an idea. Let’s make a stop in… New York (maybe?)”

Luckily, my plan worked out. I had managed to guess Whoopi Goldberg’s exact location: a Starbucks on 6th Avenue (note: check real place). I had also tricked Death into taking us there on the promise there’d be chess, and also he wanted a coffee. The train of bones crunched through the coffee shop window, shattering the glass and grinding the tables beneath it. Thankfully, this all played out in the dead dimension so it was totally fine. No one noticed. No one, that is, except Whoopi.

“What the hell?!” she cried, jumping back from her table.

“Whoopi,” I said climbing down, from the bone train, “you’ve got to help me. I’m dead and I know for an absolute fact you can send messages to the living.”

“Oh I get it,” said Whoopi, “you think just because I played a medium in that movie that I can really talk to dead people?”

“Listen Whoopi, I’ve never even seen Sister Act, so please don’t assume I would be so irrational and quick to judge people like that. Instead of accusing me of stuff, how about you accept that you’re talking to a real ghost right now, and so therefore I am right.”

“Oh my God” said Whoopi. “I guess I can speak to ghosts. I guess all my years on The View have made me capable of speaking to anyone”.

“Yeah: you, Jimmy Kimmel, Graham Norton… all supremely cursed folks. Talk-show hosting is a real double-edged sword. Back to me, though. Whoopi: can you call my wife and tell her I loved her? Oh, and also I won’t be able to make it to our Saturday UNO game for obvious reasons. Oh, oh, and that the obvious reasons are that I’m going to Hell on the bone train with Death. Sorry, so much has happened today, I forget to bring people up to speed.”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice” said Whoopi. She closed her script for Sister Act 3 and opened up Skype, making a call to the account details I gave her. The little jingle played before a familiar voice answered.

“Angie?” said Whoopi. “This is Whoopi Goldberg”

“And?” said my wife.

“Angie, I’m calling on behalf of your departed husband.”

“Oh my god,” Angie said. “What has he done now?”

“He’s dead, actually,” explained Whoopi, “choked on a toothbrush before you got home. The police must have taken him away but stopped for lunch, so they’ve not gotten a chance to let you know about it. He wants you to know that he loves you, Angie. You were the best thing in his life. Doesn’t sound like tough competition for a man who loved toothbrushes and chess, but all the same, he wanted you to know.”

“Cool, good to know” said Angie. “Hey, one second: does this mean that he’s talking with you right now?”

“Yeah,” said Whoopi “his spirit is here. Right now he’s looking at his hair in the window, even though he’s literally invisible.”

“Well, if he’s really there,” said Angie, “I’ll ask him something only he would know and that will prove ghosts are real. What’s my favourite colour?” “Shit…” I said. “Uh, I dunno, green maybe”.

“Uh, I dunno, green maybe” said Whoopi.

“Wow, that’s spooky”, said Angie. “It’s actually purple, but that idiot always thinks it’s green. He even painted the house green for our anniversary. What a dunce. Ok, cool, tell him no worries. If he can make it home tonight for UNO, great, but I’ll not be holding my breath.”

“Don’t worry, my wife,” I said. I have a plan”

“Don’t worry, his wife, he has a plan,” said Whoopi.

“I’ll definitely not wait up then. Thanks Whoopi. We loved you in Sister Act by the way” said Angie, and hung up.

“Ah, guess I have seen it,” I told Whoopi. “Well, thanks for your help. I guess there’s only one option left: I’m gonna have to kidnap and murder Death”.

“Why don’t you just beat him at chess and win your life back, like in that movie?” asked Whoopi.

“For the last time, Whoopi, I don’t remember Sister Act at all!” I said. “More to the point, I don’t play chess. Not after… that night.” I was kind of really hoping someone was gonna ask about the deep dark past thing. It’s not often I get to tell these stories.

“Suit yourself, kid” said Whoopi. “I guess you’re going to Hell, then”.

The bone train door slammed open.

“Ok kid,” said Death, “it’s been 50 minutes now. Do they have my mocha frapp or what? Are we gonna play chess now, or what? Honestly? I kind of feel like you’re using me for some kind of plot thing that’s going on for too long, and I just want to play some games to take my mind off the fact that my job sucks forever. You + Me = Hell, RIGHT NOW.”

Think fast, I thought, at a normal thought-speed. Suddenly, it hit me.

“Alright, Death. Time to play, for my very soul.”

“Sweet,” said Death.

“But not at chess.”

“Ah, Jeez!” Death groaned.

“No, I could never play chess again. It’s actually a really cool and dark story that I haven’t had a chance to tell, but maybe I could tell it if…” “Yeah, yeah, what’s the game, kid?” said Death, doing the wrap-up-the-story hand gesture with his bone-fingers.

I pulled a pack of cards from my great coat pocket (as in, the coat pocket is really great, it’s just a regular modern fashionable coat).

“UNO?!” cried Death. “Kid, you really are going to Hell.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said. “I was taught by the best: my wife. She made me the player I am today. And she takes no prisoners. So yes, Death. I’d wager my life on the back of her teaching”.

Death pulled up a table, and leaned his scythe against the coat rack.

“Whatever, dude. Just deal ‘em out.”

I played Death best of three. Best of three is right, I thought. More like the best three games of my life, let me tell you. They had to be, given what was at stake. We tied one-to-one. Death learned the game so fast, and he was soon a worthy competitor. It was down to the knuckle, which was unfair given his were so much more visible. We were down to two cards each, and it was his turn. I had to pull it out, but these last two cards were the worst I could have had. He slammed down a green 3.

“This is it, kid. This next card’s a ticket to Satan’s ass. STANDARD CLASS.”

I flipped a yellow 3.

“UNO,” I declared, “and guess what, Death? You were so busy sassing me, you forgot to say UNO yourself, so you have to PICK UP.”

Death shuddered realising his mistake.

“What?! No!” he cried. “Ah, fuck this game! Why couldn’t we have played Demon Party Drunk Chess anyway. Oh my god, these cards suuuuuck!”

The last card was one of those wild cards you can write on. “I’m done, Death. And my custom rule is that you have to give me my soul and my life back.”

“The game’s over kid. Also, I don’t think that’s a real rule you can make anyway. But a bet is a bet.” He waved his hand, doing cool Death magic or something. “Now get back to living before I do something I regret”.

I felt my spirit form fading as I regained my life inside my body. It looked kind of like that scene with Marty McFly in Back To The Future where he’s almost erased from existence.

“Wow,” I said. “This is just like that movie”.

“Yep.” said Death, walking away sulkily. “Just like Sister Act.”

“Thanks for everything” I said. “So long.”

“You know, it is a shame. I would have liked to play with you again. But I don’t have friends much anymore. Things have been a little tough since the whole… incident.”

“Suit yourself, kid" I said, vanishing into the air.

“Oh well I guess I could stop by now that you mention it, ok thanks, see you and your wife tonight at 8??”

Damn, I thought. My body had left that realm, but his words followed me. I guess it wouldn’t be the worst date I had in my life! I thought (man I gotta write these zingers down). “See you then, Death” I whispered, my voice going all ethereal. “See you then.”

I woke up in the ground, soil trickling onto a cheap coffin the cops had stuffed me in. Weeping, some folks were throwing handfulls of dirt into the hole where I was lying. I didn’t recognise them, I think they just wanted a day out at the graves. I bust through the lid of that thing like it was cardboard, and climbed out. “Come on guys” I said, pushing off the coffin lid. “You gotta throw more dirt on than that, I haven’t got all day. If you give me a shovel I’ll get it done much faster.” And I did. And when I was done filling my own grave, I walked home, knocked on my door, and was met by my beautiful Angie. “Boy, did I miss you” I said, shaking her hand in a friendly manner.

“You have soap in your hair” she said.

“I know. And soil in my shoes babe, it’s a weird combination. But there’s also love in my heart. And if you’ll have me, I am ready for UNO. Speaking of which, I may have invited a friend along…”

So there you have it. That’s how me and my wife Angie got ourselves a weekly dinner date with Death, of underworld fame. And you know what? It’s a lot of fun having him round. It can be hard to make friends as a couple, and he’s a good guy. Even though I sometimes worry a little too much about our fate beyond this lifetime, every time I hear that screechin’ bone-train a-comin’, I smile knowing it will all be ok. In fact, I think I hear it coming now…

…ok never mind, it was just my wife screamin’ at me again.

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

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The Spirit(s) of Christmas - Part 1

Summary: It was your first Christmas at the Seaside Manor since you had inherited it. Whilst you were ready for some Christmas spirit, the ghosts haunting it weren’t as willing to celebrate.

Pairing: reader x Day6 (ft. previous OCs)

World: Spiritual Connection (masterlist HERE)

Genre: ghost au / romance / fluff / minor angst

Warnings: none

A/N: Welcome back to the Seaside Manor! I knew we couldn’t just leave the ghosts to celebrate by themselves - which apparently, they aren’t so keen to do anyway! So we had to return and see if we could bring in some festive cheer!

This story is part of a previously written world. It may make some sense, but to understand all the characters, I highly recommend reading all the previous parts and spinoffs in the masterlist first before reading this series! They can be found in the link above.

The Spirit(s) of Christmas will be shared daily at 10am from 2 December NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Christmas was right around the corner and yet you had never seen so many downcast expressions.

Okay, so both Jae and Becky were kind of cheery from being reunited after all this time. Still, there was no Christmas spirit in the Seaside Manor and you wished to change that immediately. Especially since you were surrounded by so many.

Spirits, that is.

“You do realise just how many years have passed by where we haven’t celebrated Christmas, right?” Sungjin told you, pulling a face that made you aware he was not going to be the cheerful type. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it would be his first festive season without Pearl, your grandmother.

So you looked towards the one person you knew you could count on to be optimistic. Wonpil let out a heavy sigh. “I bet even if I stood under mistletoe with Sarah she wouldn’t know I was there.”

“Stop trying to kiss the help, she’s not like Y/N who can see us all,” Dowoon told the sulking man sitting beside the fire.

You groaned, wondering if it was really worth being able to see them all. You had a business to run and over the Christmas period, the manor was fully booked with guests staying right up until Christmas week itself. You knew you would have filled the days leading up to Christmas with guests had you been open to. But admittedly, you wanted to make it special for those who called the manor home – dead or alive.

However, it seemed like you were the only one looking forward to it.

“It’s not that we can’t see why you want to get the place all done up for the festive period, Y/N,” Brian stated, forever the diplomat. You looked at him warily, already slumping in your posture. You knew there was going to be a but.

And you didn’t want there to be one.

You wanted them to join you. Decorating the large manor would be a whole lot easier with their help, much like it had been when you had renovated it. And apart from the tree you wanted to put up in the living room, there wouldn’t be anything nearly as heavy to worry about like when you were fixing the broken down parts of your Grandmother’s home you had inherited.

Brian smiled at you, rubbing the upper parts of your arms encouragingly before continuing. “But just like with our birthdays, we long stopped celebrating Christmas.”

“Well maybe we need to change that too, birthdays are important.”

“I don’t even remember my birthday, do you?” Dowoon admitted sheepishly, looking around at the five men he had spent over one hundred and forty years in this manor house with. Wonpil shrugged as Sungjin laughed, shaking his head.

“Do you remember my birthday?” Becky asked Jae as she looked up from where she had snuggled into him on the couch, and the man loosely holding her nodded.

“Of course, how could I forget that?”

“Oh, so you remember my birthday but not what I looked like after all these years apart, huh?”

Jae chuckled awkwardly. “You didn’t even know your own name until I told you so you’re not one to talk.”

“Maybe that’s not my name, maybe you just gave me that!”

Dropping your shoulders away from Brian’s hands, you slipped out of his grip and headed for the attic in hopes the decorations would be up there. You knew he had followed you, and when he stepped in front to stop your departure, you shook your head firmly. “It’s fine, I’ll just decorate by myself.”

“You know I’ll help you.”

“But you have no interest in Christmas,” you pointed out glumly, and he let out a groan as you stepped around him. “I just wanted us to celebrate like a family this year, that’s all.”

“Family?” he repeated as you pulled on the lever to bring the stairs down to the attic. “How does a family celebrate for Christmas?”

“Surely you would have seen how my Grandmother and her family spent this time of the year when she was younger.”

Brian chuckled. “That was a very long time ago. Besides, she never bothered once you were born since she would travel to your house each year for that. The manor looked just as it does now.”

You frowned, surprised to know that. Brian was right; you had never experienced a single Christmas here. Whilst you spent all your summers playing hide and seek with your five friends, when it was the colder months, you had always anticipated the middle of December when your grandmother would arrive, presents in tow. You hadn’t thought about what she would leave behind or how the men haunting her family home would spend the end of the year either.

It made you further determined to show them the best Christmas ever.

You found a pitiful amount of winter décor in the attic, and it was much too musty to seem appropriate to place around your bed and breakfast. So when Sarah, your only employee, turned up the following morning, you smiled brightly at the woman. “How do you feel about Christmas decorations?”

“I was wondering when we’d be putting them up. Is today the day?!”

Grinning at her shared enthusiasm, you nodded, collecting your car keys and bag from the foyer. “Actually, we have none. Turns out my Grandmother never decorated for Christmas.”

“Well then, clean slate?”

“City trip?” you shot back and you both grinned at one another. It wasn’t just Sarah who came on the trip. It didn’t matter if you were going to the post office in the small township below or onto the closest city; Brian in the very least would accompany you. However, today Jae and Becky had decided to come on the outing, mostly because the newcomer to the manor had spent a lot of her time in the city until she wound up following a guest for a weekend escape to your manor. Despite being all too happy to have finally found where she lived years before her death, you could tell she was eager to see more bustle than the seaside township offered.

Sarah stopped you before heading into the Christmas store you had arrived at. “Can I catch up? I just realised there’s a shop just around the corner that I need to go to whilst we’re here. Is that okay?”

“Of course, I’ve got enough help with me,” you mused and then realised what you had said, cringing slightly. “I’ll see you when you’re ready to help me. Until then, I’ll just see what I can get done alone.”

“Nice one,” Jae commented as you started to push your shopping cart towards the entrance. You shot him a subtle smile, trying not to bring much attention to yourself. You had learned early on into your outings with any ghost that if you had headphones in and your phone out, any passer-by would think you were talking to someone on the phone. It was a well-formed habit of yours now and when you were set up, you glanced at the couple beside you.

“Where should we start? Tinsel? Wreaths? A tree?”

“You’re the one wanting all this, Y/N,” Jae replied with a shrug, rearranging his glasses on his nose before looking down at Becky.

She seemed lost in thought, her brows slowly weaving together.

“Should have brought Dowoon, at least he would choose colours for me,” you lamented, turning to push the cart down the first aisle. You might as well just see everything the store had to offer.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah had returned and you were actually getting things you needed. You had found a tree whilst she had been gone, in which she was still marvelling at how you had lifted it in by yourself. You didn’t have the heart to tell your friend that Jae had attempted to bring a smile to Becky’s face whilst flexing his non-existent muscles helping you.

Still, his ghostly babe, as he so affectionately referred to her as, was not even present any more, her steps slowing down, trailing through the winter wonderland section in a daze. It concerned you, but you had to keep up with the conversation with Sarah, who was none the wiser. Jae was either just as affected by her change in mood, or afflicted by his thoughts, growing increasingly quiet. Just as you were about to ask them what was wrong when Sarah went off to ask a store clerk for help, Becky stilled, looking up at Jae, tears welling in her eyes.

“I remember.”

“What?”

“Why we don’t like Christmas. Or least, why I don’t like it.” You watched the couple carefully, Becky’s attention turning to you as the first tear fell from her eyes. “We were supposed to get married then.”

When you arrived back at the manor, you feigned having a headache to Sarah and then grabbed Becky’s hand, leading her into your bedroom and shut the door quickly. The whole drive back had been sombre, even Sarah picking up on the mood in the car. And while there was not a lot of conversation happening, your mind had been processing faster than the car was moving.

The brunette looked at you curiously. “What is it, Y/N? I’m sorry I ruined your outing-”

“No, don’t be. But can I ask you something?” you cut in, waving your hands about dismissively. Becky eyed your quick movements, giving you a small yet cautious nod. “I know you and Jae were lovers when you were alive. And when the fire happened…”

Becky’s head fell and you sighed, changing your approach immediately.

“You spent the rest of your life working away from here, and were displaced upon death.”

“I stayed in the house I died in until accompanying the descendant who brought me here, yes. I don’t know why I couldn’t leave her, though I did try. All I know is when I woke up in the afterlife; I could talk freely, despite not talking ever again after losing Jae. Then again, I had only accomplished saying five words by that time.”

“Both you and Jae now believe you were meant to stay with that family line until you ended up here. You were meant to be together.”

She nodded with a small smile. “Even when were alive. He was the only person who didn’t see me as different or broken. And what was shattered had been slowly healing.”

“And you were going to get married that Christmas,” you added on, Becky chewing on her lip as she nodded again. You smiled warmly at her, throwing your hands up in the air. “Why not get married?!”

“Don’t be foolish, Y/N, how can a ghost get married?”

You reached for her hand and shook it eagerly. “Why can’t you? You love him, don’t you?”

“With every fibre of my existence.”

“And you were going to get married at Christmas when you were together. Which you are now!”

Becky was slowly warming to your idea, her eyes flashing with a sense of hope. “Do you think I could even be a bride?”

“The most beautiful bride this manor has ever seen!” you replied, now bouncing with joy. Becky started to smile.

“You know, it would be lovely to go ahead with what we had planned to do before I lost him.”

“And now that you have an afterlife together, you can be forever his bride.”

“Y/N, do you think maybe this Christmas we could hold a ceremony here?” she asked earnestly and you nodded immediately.

Seeing the woman before you begin to smile with excitement, you knew that there would be a swift change in the Christmas spirit around here.

_________________

Part 2

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