chester-glass-blog

[chester-glass-blog]

A Light That Never Goes Out || Demon Cat

@jamespsulley

Summary: In which Sulley says enough is enough. 

A/N: shoutout to sam for this para yes i named it after a smiths song but look look look. Honestly, he did such a beautiful job and I just wanna like hype this para up because the ending is so GOOD it really is so good and i just feel proud to be a part of it. Thanks so much buddy for all you’ve done for the last leg of Chester’s wild, wacky, hilarious, tragic arc. It’s more than I could have ever imagined on my own. 

SULLEY: Whether Sulley actually liked it or not- and he didn’t for the record- Chester had more or less free reign on when he came and went from Sulley’s apartment. Even if he locked the door and closed the windows, he’d turn away for a second and when he’d turn back Chester would be there.  There was no escaping it- Sulley had learned that escaping it wasn’t the way to go about it.

From everything that he had seen- not to mention all the things that he had done on Chester’s behalf- he figured that confrontation was the way to go. If he wanted to put an end to this ‘deal’ he would have to go about it himself. It wasn’t just going to dissolve on a whim. At least not without something grave happening.

So the next time Chester rolled around- in the briefest moment of silence there was before he launched into another rambling, Sulley looked over at him. His gaze met the amulet around the man’s neck and his jaw clenched.

“I’m done.” He started. Funny that, starting at the end. “I want out of this.”

CHESTER: Chester’s plan was spinning on all gears, moving rapidly toward the climax. He could feel the thrusting momentum himself as he watched his pieces tick on, what was started never to be stopped. With Milla scared and jumpy, it would only be a matter of time before she wielded her powers for the sake of her fear. And Swynlake would feel the effects. He wouldn’t have to do anything.

But of course he planned to. It was good to have insurance and that’s what Sulley was for Chester Glass these days. He’d send Sulley to another member of the Council-- perhaps the Sheriff himself to stir him up. Imagine if Russell woke up to hear his baby crying, to find a demon’s claws curled over little Isabel’s body…

Chester was going to bring his plan to Sulley tonight. He slipped in easily enough, like he always did, the amulet hidden under his shirt. Only the gold chain glinted in the lights as he turned around, mouth opening--

And then Sulley got himself a spine.

“I’m done,” said the teddy-bear-of-a-demon. “I want out of this.”

Chester’s lips fell immediately into a purse-- until he pulled the drawstrings. And then slowly he smiled at Sulley, slowly he chuckled and then giggled and then laughed outright.

“Oh-- oh that’s just too good!” Chester laughed. “That’s cute, my friend, so cute. Glad you got that out of your system hmm?” His eyes twinkled, then he waved his hand. “Now let’s move onto actual business, not just your silly jokes.”

SULLEY:

“No- I’m not joking. I’m done.” Sulley repeated- louder, harsher this time. Not a question or a request, but a statement. A demand. He could already feel his blood beginning to boil.

Chester just had this way of angering him like no one else did. Maybe it had something to do with his complete disregard for Sulley’s desires. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was holding his amulet hostage. Maybe it had something to do with how quickly he disregarded the severity of things, as if it was all a game to him. Even if it wasn’t, it felt like it.

Sulley was sick of it. Every time he scared reminded him of what he had been trying to leave behind, and did nothing to help him move forwards towards the person he was trying to become. If anything it set him a couple steps back, yet again blurring the line between human and demon. What kind of good was he supposed to be if under the cover of darkness he was no better than the monsters every child was told to fear? This wasn’t the human life he wanted to be living, frankly, it was hardly a human life at all. And the only reason he was still living like this was because of Chester.

He took a step towards Chester, his chest tight, his mouvements steady. He wasn’t afraid of him- no, that wasn’t how this worked. But that wasn’t to say that what he was capable of doing didn’t worry him. “I don’t want to be a part of your plan anymore. I’m not going to be a part of your plan anymore.”

CHESTER: Chester giggled again. It was so cute when the demon tried to scare him with his threatening tone. Look at Sulley, putting his foot down. Look at him, pouting and scrunching up his brow! What a big boy he was growing up to be.

But Chester was still the one in charge here. He was not like the Mundus who quaked in their books/converse/heels etc. at the sight of Sulley’s massive, hulking demon. He saw the demon and only got excited, as he saw the possibilities strung out for him. And even if Sulley wanted to bare his teeth, what else was he going to do?

So Chester slipped his hand underneath his collar and drew out the amulet, so it glinted in the light. To remind him.

“Oh, is that so? Does that mean I should smash this on the ground and send you back to whatever cesspit you crawled out of?” he teased. “Or perhaps I could turn you in myself. What about that, Sulley, my fuzzy little friend? Who are the police going to believe-- another s-s-scared, st-stu-stuttering v-victim-- or a demon?”

SULLEY: The amulet- there was still matter of the amulet. It was the stupid thing that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Had he just been wearing it all the time, had he suspected the worst from the human world, had he been wary and not trusted the human world like he should have- then he’d still have it safely around his neck. His own incompetence had gotten him to this point. Served him right, he supposed.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Reasoning hadn’t worked the first time, and it hadn’t gotten him very far after that. So as much as he wanted to stay civil- to work this out like a human- it just wasn’t going to work. He flicked his gaze up from where it had been drawn, back to Chester’s face. Even in times like these he couldn’t seem to take a damn thing seriously. It was all a game to him- a joke.

“If you smash that amulet, you’re not going to get rid of me.” He challenged. The taste of what he was about to suggest was bitter in his mouth. “The only thing you’re going to do is get rid of the only thing stopping me from killing you right here. If you smash it, I have nothing left to lose.”

CHESTER: Chester scoffed. “How dumb do you think I am? I hope the answer is ‘not very,’ seeing as I captured and enslaved you in the first place.”

Honestly. It’s like he didn’t think at all.

Because Chester was no expert at demonology but he’d read books. He knew that there were many ways that a demon could tie itself to a human host and that fancy amulets certainly were one of them. There was also no doubt in his mind that Sulley’s amulet was very important to him since he had thus far did Chester’s bidding without so much as a peep of disobedience. Oh sure, he was very grumpy about it, but what slave /enjoyed/ being enslaved? Not many.

“This amulet, I’d guess, is the only reason why you’re here. I smash it, and poof-- you disappear. Sad for me because I’ll have to find another victim for my dastardly deeds but mostly sad for you, ol chap,” he said. “We both know you are the one with everything to lose.”

SULLEY:

He-

He didn’t care anymore. What good was the human world if he was in it to live like a monster anyway? What good was he if he couldn’t stick up for himself? What good was he if he wasn’t good?

“You’re right.” He conceded “You’re right. I am the one with everything to lose. So do it.” He took a step towards Chester. “Smash the amulet.” and then another “Send me back to Hell or wherever it is monsters like you think I come from.” and then another, quickly bridging the space between them. “Because the human world- the one I’ve seen and the one you’ve shown me- isn’t one that I want to live in. I won’t be free once I’m gone, but I’m not free here either.”

Sulley took a step back- this was already a confrontation but he didn’t need it to look like one. As much as the idea of going out in what could be called ‘a blaze of glory’ was an attractive one- that wasn’t the kind of human that he was. It wasn’t the kind of human he had been so far. He let his hands slip into his pockets and his head hang low. Defeat- that’s what it was. Defeat.

“Just do it- I don’t care.  But if you don’t, know that I won’t be helping you anymore. And that there’s nothing you can do that’ll make me work for you again.”

CHESTER: Chester thought his demon-slave-slash-best-friend would give in. He figured-- why wouldn’t he? The human world was a marvelous place. There were blueberry pies, chocolate spreads, parades, music, dancing, laughter, sex, noise, and a little bit of murder here and there to keep things interesting. What wasn’t to like about such a list, such a world, which was miraculous and monstrous all at the same time? With no rhyme or reason, and only chaos, such a world could be whatever a person wanted it to be.

Chester was proving just that.

For a moment, he hesitated. He did. Something in his wild, toothy grin grew softer, and his lips closed. Sulley looked so impossibly sad right now, like a teddy bear who was no longer hugged anymore-- forgotten, maybe, in a closet. Under the bed.

Chester thought about hugging him. Chester thought about giving the amulet back. He could always find his fun, his sprinkle of murder, elsewhere. Sulley did not need to-- go.

But Chester had foresight. He did. And as much as he had adored Sulley and his work, the part that he’d played, well, if Chester was a benevolent master and let him go free, Sulley could march down to the police and reveal everything. Chester could play the victim act but it was impossibly complicated.

Maybe it was best for Sulley to go home.

So when Chester smiled again, it was a kind expression. “As you wish, my friend. Safe journey.” And then Chester tugged the chain. It broke with a tiny snap, and with a wild, happy hoot, Chester Glass smashed the amulet on the ground.

The room filled up with red light.

SULLEY:

There was silence and Sulley didn’t dare to look up. Not at Chester and his grin, not at the closet to his side or the window just beyond his shoulder. There were only two outcomes to this, but he knew deep inside of him that really only one was possible. It felt almost fitting in a way. As someone who had so often complained that humans just didn’t know when to quit, Sulley seemed to be impossibly good at sealing his own fate. He supposed that maybe it was just the human in him. Of all things it would be that, surely.

“As you wish, my friend. Safe journey.” Chester said.

Sulley felt the snap of the chain- not in the air, but inside of him.  There was a moment of regret- where he remembered all of the things he would no longer experience, all of the people he would never meet, the places he would never see.

And then there was light.

[During his time observing from the Underworld, he had seen a lot of very different celebrations. But they all seemed to have one thing in common.

Lights.

Human loved lights. Whether it was colourful blinking lights, big lights that shot up into the night sky before exploding into thousands of tiny streams, the great light from burning logs or small lights on sticks carried around by hoards of people. Humans loved lights and rightfully so. Sulley wholeheartedly agreed that lights were pretty great.]

This light was not one of defeat. It was not one of the great funeral pyres that lit up the faces of the mourning- it was not the candles held in late night vigils, or placed upon tombstones- it was not one of death or abandon.

It was the great fireworks that shot up into the sky- it was the neon signs that flashed on every street corner- it was the bedside lamps that stayed on well into the night- it was one of celebration.

Sulley was celebrating life.

His beautiful, brief and impossible life.

And that red light glowed fiercely. Sulley felt it inside of him, as it moved outwards. Soon it was everywhere- it was everything.

He was light.

And then suddenly he wasn’t. There was dark. He was gone.

[chester-glass-blog]

And you think of all of the things you've seen, And you wish that you could live in between, And you're back again, Only different than before, After the sky.

There are Giants in the sky! There are big tall terrible awesome scary wonderful Giants in the sky!

[chester-glass-blog]

[chester-glass-blog]

Chester: by god AT LEAST an emoticon or something my darling. we have a reputation to keep up

Mitte: I wasn't aware my reputation included emoticons, I thought that was your special thing

Mitte: aren't I more a sullen and stoic partner than an overt one?

Chester: The bad cop to my good cop?

Chester: The straight man to my stooge?

Chester: the sour to my sweet?

[chester-glass-blog]

Mitte: my spelling is bad, I need the autocorrect technology has gifted us with.

Mitte: but I'll make a note of that, and be sure to include more pizazz in future texts

Chester: by god AT LEAST an emoticon or something my darling. we have a reputation to keep up

[chester-glass-blog]

Mitte: Wow I made so much Greek food??

Mitte: If you would like some feel free to come over

Mitte: I am full of stuffed vine leaves and feta this is the best

Chester: I can't believe you're inviting people to OUR apartment

Chester: ...by text that is. What happened to the days of letter-writing and cardstock and doilies?? I DEMAND proper invitations, with glitter in the envelopes!

[chester-glass-blog]

alice-in-every-land:

“I am,” Alice answered with a nod, still wondering where in the room he was. He sounded to be near the sofa now, and since he offered her a seat next, she figured that had to be right.

Crossing over, she took her spot on the couch, off to the left, and looked around, still smiling. Nerves fluttered in her stomach - how peculiar, to be interviewed by someone invisible - and she tapped her fingers on her knees to try and calm her jitters.

“May I ask - if my theory is incorrect, does that mean you have no problem becoming visible? If so, I should really like to see you. Don’t feel pressured, though. I simply thought it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

"Tsk tsk,” tssked Chester, who was an expert tsk-er. “Don’t be so overzealous. you’ll learn-- soon enough. And then maybe you’ll see me.”

He still hadn’t decided about that.

As it was, he was settling on learning as much as he could and keeping his advantage. As long as he stayed invisible, she couldn’t prove anything. He could not be Chester Glass after all, but a ghost haunting Chester Glass’s apartment. Maybe he was even Chester Glass’s ghost.

“First...” he had circled away from the couch, was standing across from it a ways. “Tell me more about the invisible boy you claim to have saw. And your powers. Tell me about those too.”

An Interesting Idea / Chalice

[chester-glass-blog]

Evil Comes Knocking || Demon Cat vs. Milla

@jamespsulley @rodmilla-tremaine

Chester had one more planned victim for Sulley and his dastardly demon ways. It was a High-Stakes Client, one that Chester had been watching diligently since he’d come back from London, waiting for the right moment. And by now-- following two successful hauntings and the rumors running rampant through Swynlake’s streets, and on the heel of a lawsuit against one Mr. Hades...

Now was the time.

It was always good to have a scapegoat, see. And it was always good to have someone like Milla on his fishhook. He’d jerk her around a little and soon, the tight-ass would do exactly what he wanted her to do. Turn up the heat on Hades...perhaps turn up the heat on the whole town...

Think about what a riot that would cause on the Magick front. 

It was all coming up roses for one Chester Glass as he dragged Sulley into an empty staircase in Milla’s building. He knew (because he stalked her) that she was going to be working late tonight-- all by herself in that big, big office. They would just climb up and knock, knock, knock on that office door. And when Milla called to let them in-- she’d let the terror in. 

“Alrighty, my sweet teddy bear,” giggled Chester. “This victim is very, very special. I need you to put on your best. As terrifying as possible. Don’t be scared to rough up the lady, hmmm? We want her scared for her life. 

“And I want you to tell her-- to drop the suit against Hades. And that she-- and any other Mundus-- will never win. You’re coming for all of them.” 

[chester-glass-blog]

alice-in-every-land:

Alice snapped out of her fixated spot staring at nothing at once.

A voice! Now that was some progress. She smiled, wide and relieved, and took a step forward from the door. So, they were invisible! After all, the voice didn’t sound obstructed by anything. Nor did it sound all too far away to be hiding in just out of sight. And a ghost, well, it would have been in the glimmer she’d seen.

Alice supposed it could still be in the glimmer, but voices from a glimmer usually sounded different. Almost like you were hearing them from underwater.

“My name is Alice,” she repeated - or, at least, thought she repeated. She couldn’t remember if she’d mentioned her name before now, but she must have. “You’re invisible. That’s alright. I understand. I have powers I’m not fully in control of yet, either.” She was making assumptions, but given that this Chester Glass hadn’t shown himself - if it was indeed Chester and not someone else in his apartment - she found her guess to be fairly safe. “Is that why you were looking for a flatmate? So that you could have someone to help with visual representation?”

Alice.

Chester did not know an Alice. This made everything more frightening and more interesting all at once, his heart thump-thumping more erratically than it had for days and days-- weeks, really. Not even being chased by hellhounds got Chester quite this worked up. And that’s because he’d simply been scared of getting mauled or dying and death, now that was a simple, flat kind of fear: cold or hot, but never both.

But this was a mystery. Alice was a mystery, or perhaps she was a trap, or perhaps she was a lie, or a truth, or a plot twist. She could be all these delicious things at once. She could even be Chester’s proverbial downfall: the gust of wind that shook Chester’s tightrope, the one he had been walking on since returning to Swynlake.

And because Chester did not know, he was scared, a deep deep kind of scared that was hot-and-cold and big-and-small. He had to be careful now. He had to watch and listen and learn. Maybe he could outwit this Alice, if she was here, meant to undo him.

Her comment about visual representation did make him chuckle though.

“An interesting theory,” he said, circling around his own couch, still invisible. “So you’re here for an interview.”

Perfect.

“Why not sit down? We can get started right away.”

An Interesting Idea / Chalice

[chester-glass-blog]

chester-glass:

alice-in-every-land:

Alice jumped as she heard the door slam shut, whizzing around again. But there was no one there. She took quick, long strides over to the wooden door and placed a hand on it, running her fingers down to the knob.

How strange. How increasingly peculiar. No one to be seen, and yet the door was opening and closing all of it’s own accord. 

Was someone trying to frighten her? Was this Chester Glass somehow playing tricks? Turning again, she put her back against the door and crossed her arms, face hardening with stubbornness and defiance. “Alright then. Either you’re a ghost, you’ve wired the house to play tricks on people, or you’re invisible. If the first, perhaps I can help you,” she pleaded, raising a sympathetic brow. She had seen a glimmer after all. And as she’d learned as a child with lots of “imaginary friends,” ghosts were very much real. She saw them through her glimmers at times, always ethereal and not quite there. She supposed if there was a ghost here, she could pull it through. Give it some sort of peace of mind.

“If you’ve wired the house somehow to play tricks, I have to say, I do love a good prank. So you’d have my respect for that. But that better be all this is. I do warn you I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.” Alice scanned the place again with narrowed eyes before turning her gaze down to the ground and kicking a little at nothing. 

“And if you’re invisible…. I do hope you would show yourself, if you’re able. I’m not here to hurt you. I only wanted to inquire about your ad for a roommate. If you’re not able, I understand that well, too. Controlling powers can be difficult.” Memories surface and she looked back up, though stared at a spot she wasn’t really seeing as she recalled looking through the glimmers into Swynlake as a child. “I remember once I… well, I suppose I could say I knew a boy, though I didn’t really know him. He was sad and he was small and he had no home to call his own. He was always going invisible and I think a lot of people had difficulty with that. It always broke my heart that I couldn’t help him. It’s hard when no one understands your powers. Especially when you don’t understand them much yourself. It’s awfully lonely.”

Chester was thinking of all the fun there was to have with the girl and her eyes so wide, her hair like golden straw. He was looking around at his apartment for things that could become weapons. He was, you see, becoming a natural at this whole haunting business. 

He’d always been something like a ghost anyway. There and not there. Even his parents had wished him dead. 

 I suppose I could say I knew a boy, though I didn’t really know him. 

And then the girl spoke. 

He was sad and he was small and he had no home to call his own. He was always going invisible and I think a lot of people had difficulty with that.

Chester’s eyes snapped back to the girl. His expression slowly crumpled, no more joy or invention twinkling in the blue of Chester’s eye. He took a step away from her. It was a step as quiet, as there and not there, as the rest of him. 

 It always broke my heart that I couldn’t help him. It’s hard when no one understands your powers. Especially when you don’t understand them much yourself. It’s awfully lonely.

Who was this girl? 

At once, Chester thought back to the group home and the children there: Ben, Robby, Erik, Mary, Mary 2, Mary 3, Molly-whose-real-name-was-Mary, Fredrich, Katherine and her lesser, Catherine, Henry R and Henry Y and Sebastian and Julia and Olivia--Rosie, Rosalind, Jenna Rose and Mary Rose. 

They did not have this girl’s smattering of freckles (perhaps she’d grown into them) or her fine, woven hair (perhaps she dyed it) or a blue quite like that (Chester didn’t gaze lovingly into many girl’s eyes though). Maybe she was from the home and he had simply forgotten her. Maybe she was speaking of another invisible orphan boy. Either way, something trembled inside Chester’s heart that he had not felt for a long time. It was like being chased by the pack of hell hounds only less...less... fun. 

He was scared, wasn’t he? 

His plan to scare her fell apart. Instead, he spoke, a disembodied voice in the room:

“Who are you?” 

An Interesting Idea / Chalice

[chester-glass-blog]

Nothing is quite what it seems, Alice

[chester-glass-blog]

alice-in-every-land:

It seemed to be an awfully long time that Alice stood about in the hallway, thinking of clocks and watches and her father and being late. Alice was always running late and so she was always trying hard to be early. It just seemed sometimes life wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily. (A thing she had tried to explain to her mother many times, but she’d never understood, only chastised.)

So it was fair to assume she’d arrived too late or the ad was already filled and this Chester was in no more need of a roommate, thank you very much. Just a minute more and Alice would turn on her heel and take her leave.

Only then, the door creaked open. Blonde hair whipped as she turned her head back with a smile ready, only for it to fall when she saw no one on the other side of the door.

How strange.

Doors didn’t just open. Physical or otherwise. Someone had to open them, and Alice knew well that the door hadn’t been ajar when she’d arrived since she’d knocked and it hadn’t crept open then.Taking a step forward, Alice poked her head through the doorway and looked side to side, confused. “Hello?” she called out, wondering where the person who may have opened the door might’ve went off to, and how they could have done so quickly and quietly.

Bravely though without the intent to be brave, only seeking to satisfy her own curiosity, Alice stepped into the flat. She could handle whatever may come, she was sure of it. Looking around, she attempted calling out again. “I’m here about your ad looking for a roommate. I hope I got the address correct. I suppose I could’ve picked your lock as an example of the skill with that I do possess - as un-challenging of a simple lock that one is - but I was worried it might be the wrong door and then what an awkward situation I would be put in.”

Where was this guy? 

“This is the flat of Chester Glass, yeah?” Why was she bothering speaking to no one? Turning away from the door, she looked around, and a small wave of light drew her attention, just a few feet in front of her. Her blue eyes zeroed in on it, and Alice stepped closer, moving towards it until she could see it clearly for what it was, without doubt: a glimmer. A tear in the universe. It was still a sliver, and one she did not wish to pry into or open at the moment. Swallowing thickly, she turned again. “I promise I don’t bite.” 

That was a lie. She’d bitten plenty of orderlies during her stay in that room, void of color. But she only bit when provoked, really.

After a moment of hesitation (and really, who wouldn’t hesitate, entering a haunted apartment?) the girl wandered in. Now wasn’t that adorable? Chester’s lips curved up in a grin, though of course it was lost to the air. She did not look his way, even as she turned her head and squinted at her surroundings. She stared off into nothing but space, space, space. She would not know she was not alone, and she would not know just what was churning in that brain of his.

And oh so many things were. Chester felt that old thrill that came from a good prank materializing in his frontal lobe. He’d been plotting for so long, he’d not had a good spontaneous prank in quite some time.

And now this blonde, wide-eyed panda bear had shuffled into the proverbial lion’s den. She was on his turf. He could do what he wanted with her.

Though-- and this came a split second after Chester’s impulsive desire to start pulling her hair and messing with the lights-- he did have to think of the consequences. His Great Plan of Revenge was not yet complete, oh no. Anita Dearly still walked the streets unharmed. The town was restless and frightened, but it hadn’t fallen to its knees. Chester couldn’t jeopardize that all for a little prank. He pouted to himself, pouted as she called his name-- then rolled his eyes and kicked the door in.

It swung shut with a bang!

That made the little green bean jump. Chester smiled at that at least, then skirted around the edge of the room. He was wearing his socks, which made staying light-on-his-feet quite easy. Hmm, he wondered to himself. What would she do next?

If she got too curious, he might just have to scare her after all. He had his big Master Plan Cork Board in his bedroom after all. Couldn’t have that be seen.

An Interesting Idea / Chalice

[chester-glass-blog]

alice-in-every-land:

Chester Glass did certainly seem to be an interesting person. At least, that was what Alice had gathered from his advert in town square looking for a roommate. He sounded intriguing and blunt and that was enough to draw Alice in all on it’s own. Really, it was the ‘Bonus if you know a thing or two about lock-picking’ part of the ad that had sealed the deal for the blonde. She was excellent at it. Years spent with nothing but books and doors to unlock and secrets to uncover in tightly shut drawers meant years of prying her way into every single one of them. 

Now, of course, Alice couldn’t be sure why exactly he would be looking for someone with such a skill, but she supposed she would find out soon enough. Checking that she had gotten the address right, she knocked on his door. While she waited, she hoped she’d calculated time correctly from a few blocks ago where she’d last spotted a clock. If her calculations were correct, she was a bit early, but hopefully this Chester character was home nonetheless. 

She made a mental note to invest in a pocket watch as she stood there, waiting, rocking on her heels. Maybe, with any luck, she would one day find a glimmer and sitting on the other side of the portal would be her father’s pocket watch, just waiting for her to pull it through. 

Right. Nearly impossible of a thought. Alice should be so lucky.

@chester-glass

No one was supposed to know Chester was back.

He’d been keeping it a secret for over a month now with ease-- being invisible was much easier than being visible after all. And it was more useful. Truly, Chester did not miss the days of being seen. He went wherever he wanted and did whatever he wanted. He was part of every conversation and part of none at all. He was surrounded-- never went anywhere alone-- and yet had never been more alone in his life.

This was Chester’s destiny. He saw that now. Ever since learning the truth, he had accepted that everyone was born alone and would die alone and that all the silly obligations one felt toward another were just another way of controlling people. So Chester did not seek any more of these connections. He did not even tell his dear Hatter when he’d come to Swynlake. Only Mitte knew what Chester was planning. Only Mitte knew he was around. Only Mitte had Chester’s trust.

Naturally then, when he got a knock on the door-- Chester was very suspicious. He vanished from where he’d been sitting on the couch because there was no way that was Mitte at his door (she’d just barge in) and no one was supposed to know Chester was back.

Slowly, Chester crept up to the door and peered out of the eyehole. HE did this invisibly, duh.

It was a girl.

Chester frowned. He’d never seen the girl in his life. But she held a paper in her hand and ah, that’s right! His ad was still running! An oversight, though if he pulled it now it would be more suspicious if he just let it run. He should, perhaps, not answer the door at all. Didn’t want to blow the whole thing.

But Chester was curious. Still curious. And so he did open the door. It creeped only, squeaking on the hinges as if possessed by a strange, unseeable force. And it was: Chester being that force.

Let’s see if the girl would be brave enough to step into a haunted flat.

An Interesting Idea / Chalice

[chester-glass-blog]

Picture Perfect || One-shot

Summary: Chester enacts one of his final stages of revenge against Anita Dearly. 

TW for the mention of a dead body

The Dearly house had wide-open windows and floor-to-ceiling patio doors which invited light into their home as soon as the sun began to rise over the bricks of London Town. The morning of Alfred Dearly’s demise, the sun rose as it was scheduled. The sky blued, the living room warmed, and the light filtered through an invisible boy, who was standing in front of a shelf, looking down at a row of albums.

Outside was Alfred Dearly’s body, his head smashed like a melon. It was a beautiful, warm spring day.

The birds began to chirp as Chester Glass knelt down and wiggled one of these albums from its place. And then he sat down and opened it onto his lap. Page by page, Chester traveled through the years of Anita Dearly’s life. A birthday there, a Christmas there. He studied the lines on his parents’ faces and how they expanded too, like run-on sentences. What a funny thing to keep, Chester thought. What a funny memory to take a picture of, he thought as well, when he came across little moments he didn’t quite understand. What a strange habit, taking pictures, and then closing them up and hiding them on the bottom of a bookshelf.

It became even stranger to him the further down the shelf he went. As he traveled back in time, he would open the albums and cough when the dust from the pages billowed into the air. His wonderings changed.

When was the last time the Dearly family looked at these? His thumb touched the smile of Mother Dearly, holding a 4-year-old carrot-head Anita. When was the last time they smiled like this?

At the end of these albums, he was ready to file his book report. Those smiles were lies, he concluded, slipping a picture out from the album. And one from 1998. And another one from 1999, and another from 2007, and another from 2012. But this was not a very surprising conclusion. All families are unhappy families after all. Chester had read that once and so it must be true.

He gathered the photos and shelved the albums one by one, where they would not be touched again for quite some time.

“Perhaps he’s a vampire!”

“Don’t be stupid, Jim, vampires don’t show up in mirrors. Geddit right! He’s a ghost.”

“Then how come we see him now, dumbo?”

“You’re just makin’ him nervous,” shot back Olivia. She glanced back at Chester, giving a hoity-toity eyeroll that would make the Queen shit her pants. “Don’t listen to em. They’re stupid boys anyway.”

“Well I’m a stupid boy,” said Chester, though he was grinning very wide. Mostly he was smiling so no one would know how nervous he was. He felt like all his marbles were gonna fly apart. Olivia shuffled up another step in line and Chester followed. He was fiddling with the solid cotton of his shirt, his eyes wandering up to where the cameraman was.

It was Picture Day at the group home. Chester hated Picture Day. Every year it’d come and he’d get ready, polishing his shoes so they shined like trophies, combing his blonde hairs neatly in place, and practicing, for hours sometimes at night, his smile in the mirror. Big big big grin, the bigger the better! Mrs. Poppy used to say. Remember, sweethearts, these are going online for your profiles. You’ll be famous!

Chester wanted to be famous. Chester would love to have his picture plastered on a billboard somewhere so his parents would see him, gasp in delight, and then come re-adopt him at once.

But every year, he got to the little stool, sat down—and when the camera flashed—

His marbles fell apart. The pictures would come later and all it would be would be an empty set of clothes, no boy inside them.

This year’s picture day though, Chester would take the best picture. He was a big boy anyway-- nearly 8 years old. He had practiced his smile and Mrs. Delilah told him it was a beautiful smile. Good job, Mr. Glass, said Mrs. Delilah. Why thank you, Mrs. Delilah, said Chester Glass.

“Chester Glass,” called the photographer. Show time.

Olivia squeezed his arm as he passed. He climbed onto the stool, then brushed down his shirt and adjusted the bowtie he’d worn just for this occasion. He wiggled some more into the stool, feeling how solid it was. That’s what Chester was going to be. Solid.

“You ready, son?” said the cameraman (who was not his father; grown-ups just called kids son and daughter; Chester found this insulting as an orphan but he didn’t know who to address his angry letter to).

“Ready,” said Chester. He set his smile in place, grinning so wide he imagined his smile would take up his whole face.

Snip.

The flash went off: a bright blinding light that filled Chester’s eyes. He huddled his marbles together, the millions of them, telling himself that his parents, wherever they are, wanted to see his marbles too.

He hopped off the stool after and skipped straight to Olivia. “Did I do it?” he asked her eagerly, still smiling—like he was scared to stop. “Did you see? Did you?”

Olivia was not smiling back. In fact, her mouth was a line, like a wrinkle.

“I did it again?” he said.

“We saw your smile,” she answered him like she was offering him half a cookie.

When he got his picture back, Chester held it up to the light and stared at it hard. His own floating smile, teeth bared, grinned down at him.

Chester shuffled the pictures day by day when he sat in his own apartment, looking at them for what they were: playing cards.

He had five pictures. The first was Father Dearly holding his first-born baby girl. He was young, sandy-haired, the film quality grainy.

The second was Father Dearly giving his daughter a kiss on the hand. She had little white gloves on. Adorable, precious! cried the masses.

The third was the next year: Father Dearly taking Anita to school. She had a little backpack on and they were hand-in-hand.

Fourth: Father Dearly, Anita, and a little Dalmatian puppy, a beautiful, big blue bow tied around its neck. This one had Father Dearly’s handwriting on the back. Anita and Viola, it said.

And last, but certainly not least, was Anita graduating, her father giving her kiss on the cheek, a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

Only the last one looked possibly candid to Chester. He lingered on it the longest, studying his sister’s wide smile and his father’s eyes. He looked and looked but did not feel any closer to the two of them. They were strangers and always would be.

So he would go through with the plan.

After the initial haunting of Perdita and Anita. After Duchess was attacked and Roger threatened. After the rumours were swirling and he could see Anita skitter around town on her toes, a paranoid glint in her eye.

Then and only then did Chester enter the last phase of his haunting.

He slipped in when Perdita and Anita were not there and then he shredded all of Anita’s books one by one. He shredded her pillows and tossed the feathers in the air, letting them float like snowflakes and cover the carpet and desk and chair. Shredded her curtains.

And then he slapped the pictures on her wall. Each one contained one word, written in bold, ugly black marker.

GO ASK ELSA FOR PEACE.

He waited outside on their balcony just to hear Anita scream.  

[chester-glass-blog]

pretty-perdita:

Perdita watched the red wine slosh into her glass, smile-snorting at Anita’s tale. Of course she remembered, it had not been so long ago, themselves Sophomores, hearing the ruckus and Perdita tugging Anita along to go investigate, her curiosity peaked. 

Her curiosity peaked now, brows furrowing, her own mouth parting slightly as the tap turned back on.

She’d turned it off. She’d squeezed the handle tight. Maybe it was the other side, she reasoned with herself. 

And, the thing was, Perdita was a very reasonable person. Magic made her uncomfortable because it didn’t make sense. Not like her mother, not even like Anita, who both thought there was something sinister about certain magic. All of it made Perdita uncomfortable becuase she couldn’t understand it. She didn’t know where it came from or how it was wielded. 

She believed in science, in things you could see and touch and feel. That had rules and laws. It was why she liked math and coding so much, it never surprised you. It just was.

This was not–like anything she’d ever seen, as the cabinet opened and things began to jump out of it. There was no explanation. 

She felt the blood in her veins freeze up all at once. Her throat went dry. Eyes widened as a plate flew towards them. 

It was only Anita’s wine that saved her from getting smashed in the face by a plate. It sloshed out of her glass as she ducked and onto Perdita’s knee. Making her jump and then duck too, the plate smashing into the wall where her head had been. 

“What the fuck?” Perdita hissed, reaching out and grabbing Anita’s wrist like that would do anything at all.

It  was taking all of Chester’s considerable self-control not to burst out laughing. He did consider indulging. What ghost didn’t love a hearty, robust MUAH HA HA! or a good ooOooOoOOoOoOoOooooo? He didn’t want to risk Perdita potentially recognizing him though. Not that he’d practiced his Evil Laugh (tm) in Remy’s kitchen. But just to be on the safe side.

He needed the girls to be convinced this was a haunting, not a prank. That it was Alfred Dearly reaching through the veil to clutch Anita’s pearls and scatter them. 

That he was out for revenge. 

He’d hit hard, violent, and terrifying this time and then slink back and follow up when it was just he and Anita. This was setting the stage for all that would follow. 

So he grabbed another plate and tossed it like a frisbee with a practiced flick of the wrist. It went sailing toward the girls and he grabbed another-- then two more-- each one following the trail of the other, keeping the girls cowering on the couch, covering their hair so they might not get cut. 

He slammed the cabinet shut so hard it bounced back open-- that was fine with Chester. He glided from the kitchen, pushing magazines off the counter as he walked toward the girls. He grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and tossed it into the wall.

Anita was crying by now, and Chester-- adrenaline pumping in his veins-- smiled from ear to ear.

“It--It’s coming toward us!” She shrieked.

Chester grabbed the wine glass she’d been drinking just second ago and threw it right behind her head. It smashed into thousands of tiny glass pieces. He grabbed Perdita’s and did the same thing, biting down on his own lip to stop that ol’ MUAH HA HA!! that wanted to burst from him in celebration. 

And then he danced his way to the doors to their balcony and flung both open with a bang! as they smashed against the wall and swung back. 

The Death Song of Alfred Dearly || Pernita vs. Chester

[chester-glass-blog]

Meet the Father || Demon Cat vs. Roger Radcliffe

@dalmatianplantationsensation @jamespsulley

Chester Glass did not need Mitte to tell him that Roger Radcliffe had the world’s most adorable, hopeless crush on Anita. That had been obvious since last summer during the play. Remember, Chester had gotten fitted right before Roger and he’d stuck around to watch a few minutes as they flirted and teased and blushed around each other. He’d found the whole thing hilarious then; he found their love affair to be a useful opportunity now. 

After all, any friend of Anita’s was a friend of Chester’s. Chester wanted to play too.

And so he roped Sulley once again into the streets of Swynlake, having tracked Roger’s general schedule the past few days to pinpoint the moment when he was most vulnerable. The answer? Shutting up Scat Cat Records. While Roger counted the cash, Sulley and Ches would slip in and have him running down the aisle. 

This time, his instructions would be very, very specific.

“Alrighty, honeybear, my instructions are very, very specific,” he said to Sulley where the two of them stood across the street from Scat Cat Records, gazing at the figure of Roger through the window. “I want you to pretend to be the god-awful hideous form of Alfred Dearly. I want you to slink in there and ask him-- Do you know who I am? Do that growly voice of yours, it’s precious. And then tell him you’re Alfred Dearly, and you have a message for Anita, your daughter, that he HAS to tell her-- or else.” 

Chester chuckled, rubbing his hands together. Oh, this was too good. 

“And that message is this: You will haunt Swynlake and kill all of Anita’s friends, one by one, until she suffers as he did. Tell Roger that he’s first!” Chester’s chuckle grew giddy and high and he hopped up and down two times. 

“Remember, don’t go off script or I’ll smash this pretty amulet,” Chester said, tapping the stone against his chest. It winked as mischievously as Chester himself. “And be sure to be threatening. Don’t be afraid to slap him around a little if need be.” 

[chester-glass-blog]

"We’re going to tear down every idea that your words, your patriotism, your duty mean anything-- they mean nothing. All they mean is DEATH.”