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morganaseren · 4 years ago

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So since chapter 17 of OtSttCA deals with Niamh meeting the Champion of Kirkwall, let me introduce you all to Emrys Hawke, my Reaver Warrior from DA2!

So she takes after her father Malcolm with the dark hair and light blue eyes (in my headcanon anyway). Her hair is like Niamh’s in that it’s more of an asymmetrical cut, but the length of it is less wavy in comparison. Honestly, I tend to headcanon that she used her sword to cut away most of the bulk of it one day post-Kirkwall when she goes into hiding. The rest of it is just kept in a ponytail that trails down to mid-back, which you can see a hint of in that last pic.

Of the scars she has, the one she has over the eye was courtesy of Meredith during their battle together. The one splitting the corner of her lip is actually from Aveline, who I believe was wearing gauntlets at the time. Did you guys know that Aveline throws you down to the floor and punches you repeatedly if your rival points are high enough?? In any case, Emrys let her get one good punch in before she retaliated, and the fight had to be stopped by Isabela surprisingly enough. Lol. The final scar across her cheek was when she was helping Isabela with a sea raid.

More background info on her below the cut!

Emrys has strong feelings over the concept of family.

Her father was a man she deeply respected. He went out of his way to help others--even when the situation usually meant putting himself in danger or leading them to move afterward--which she found admirable, and she wound up trying to do the same years later as she grew up. She took the loss of him as hard as the rest of her family, but she took up the mantle of watching after them without complaint, doing her best to provide for them all as she could on her soldier’s salary.

When it came to her mother, however, Emrys always had a somewhat distant relationship with her, who quietly disapproved of her learning the art of swordsmanship and later becoming a soldier. Leandra did eventually become more understanding of the notion when Emrys explained her need to want to be able to protect their family if Templars were ever after them. That never stopped the older woman from worrying constantly about her daughter’s safety though. When Carver died, their relationship became further strained, especially when Leandra impulsively blamed Emrys for the incident, but it was more or less amiable again by the time their family name was restored to nobility in Kirkwall. Leandra’s death still hit Emrys hard however, and although she supports mage freedom, she doesn’t care for the idea of blood magic--especially if it involves an unwilling subject--which is my personal headcanon as to why she’s so vehement about it in Inquisition.

With her siblings, she got along with both quite well. In fact, she was quite protective over them, and in her youth, it wasn’t uncommon for her to get into fights with anyone who thought they could harass the twins. It didn’t matter if Emrys was up against a bigger opponent or even outnumbered; she met them all head-on. Leandra berated her each and every time while Malcolm--and later Bethany--took to healing whatever wounds she sustained from the fights.

Emrys grew less impulsive as she aged, but of the two surviving Hawkes, Bethany is definitely the more level-headed sibling. Lol.

When Bethany inherited their father’s magical abilities, Emrys never really treated her any differently. She adored her little sister endlessly. If anything, she became more mindful of everyone else around her, especially when it came to the ever-watchful eyes of the Templars. As a soldier, she never hesitated to use the bulk of her body and armor to hide Bethany from view on the occasions her sister wanted to travel to the village, often to hear Leliana’s stories in the chantry. Then, she often escorted her sibling back home on her lunch break. Thankfully, people most just saw a protective sibling and never once thought she could be harboring an apostate in their midst.

Emrys was also close with her brother Carver, who followed after her in becoming a warrior, and she often helped him train. When he came of suitable age, he enlisted with the army as well, hoping to also help provide for their family. They had a healthy sibling rivalry, always constantly looking to test their skills against one another to improve upon their own. His loss not long after they escaped Lothering devastated her, and she blamed herself for his death for years afterward.

Personality-wise, she had more of a diplomatic leaning in my DA2 run of her, but she tends to be more playful around Bethany and their friends. It’s probably what drew Isabela to her, and Emrys was equally drawn in by the woman who was so bold and unapologetic in everything she did. The other woman encouraged her to be unafraid in indulging her more mischievous side--much to Bethany’s endless exasperation.

With the exception of Aveline--who she has a deep-seated rivalry with to say the least--Emrys tends to get along rather well with her companions. It admittedly took her longer to warm up to Fenris, especially when their first meeting almost turned disastrous after he called her sister ‘a viper’ and an ‘it.’ In the end, it took Bethany calming her down and Fenris apologizing before she allowed him to officially join her party. As a fellow warrior, she came to respect his skill greatly, and after a time, he was able to earn her loyalty, and she his in turn. While Emrys was closer to others within their close-knit group, she and Fenris developed an understanding of one another, so while they aren’t best friends, they do trust one another.

And if it wasn’t blatantly obvious in chapter 16 of OtSttCA, Bethany was part of Kirkwall’s Circle, and that’s how she ended up meeting and caring for the magelets Niamh meets. Thus, Bethany turning herself into the Templars after Emrys returns from the Deep Roads is probably one of the few times she came close to going against her little sister’s will.

That the then Knight-Captain Cullen and his Templar colleagues were able to escape Gamlen’s household unscathed at all was due in large part to Bethany outright begging her not to make matters worse. Emrys has always greatly respected Bethany’s autonomy and would never do anything to intentionally break that trust, but she couldn’t stop the sense of failure that washed over her following that moment, feeling as though she had lost another family member due to her own inability to protect them as she should.

In any case, Emrys has no love of Templars or what they represent to mages.

For a time, her friends were able to distract her from her abject misery, Isabela especially, who she entered into a casual relationship with. Emrys never pressed her for more--despite her own wishes to the contrary--knowing that the other woman would likely bolt were she to ask. To her chagrin, Isabela left anyway once she had the qunari artifact in hand, and while part of her wished to pursue the other woman, Emrys couldn’t bring herself to simply leave the city while her sister was still imprisoned in the Gallows.

Unfortunately, everything came to a head when the Arishok murdered the Viscount, and even when Isabela came back with the stolen Tome of Koslun, the qunari leader refused to leave without apprehending the thief in question. When Emrys argued against it, the Arishok offered her a compromise: a one-on-one duel to the death for Isabela.

She accepted the terms without question.

Infuriated, Isabela confronted Emrys immediately, asking her why she would place herself in such danger for her when the mistake was of her own doing.

“Because I don’t want to lose you again,” she said simply, stunning Isabela into silence, before striding off to meet the Arishok.

As expected, he was a warrior of great merit, and she was nearly done in by one of his blades as he impaled her. While the qunari thought his victory was all but assured with the wound he inflicted upon her, the sudden blood loss sent Emrys into the Reaver’s infamous dragon rage, enabling her to fight with such a frenzy that her opponent couldn’t hope to match. By the end of it, the massive qunari was cleaved in half with her greatsword. Unfortunately, her injury was so severe that had Anders, Merrill, and Bethany not been present to provide healing magic, she likely would’ve died.

The scar over her abdomen is the only evidence of her battle against the Arishok.

She was appointed as Champion of Kirkwall not long afterward, and she hoped to use her new position to help further the fight toward mage freedom, unaware that her activities were drawing attention to her sister still within the Circle... Then, things took a devastating turn with the destruction of Kirkwall’s chantry, thereby casting more fire into the resulting rebellion already raging throughout the city.

In the uneasy lull that followed with Meredith’s death, she asked her remaining companions and allies to scatter to the winds. With Isabela offering aid, Emrys then took Bethany along with the young charges under her care and went into hiding with them. She was able to stay with them for a time until she felt her presence was drawing far too much unwanted attention, especially with the Seekers now on her trail in addition to the Templars.

Emrys left her faithful mabari Rebel with them as a means of further protection before she actively drew attention to herself from Kirkwall’s remaining Templars, giving Bethany and the magelets the time needed to escape.

Despite her title, Emrys never returned to Kirkwall again.

She traveled with Isabela for some months, enjoying the soft, quiet moments with her as much as the more sensual ones, but when the Hands of the Divine began to close in on her location as well, she had no choice but to go into further seclusion again to protect her lover.

When she heard word that the Herald of Andraste was a mage who later became Inquisitor, she secretly sent word to a few of her companions, asking them to help get Bethany and the magelets back to Ferelden. There, she hoped they would be safe with the Inquisition, especially following the very public alliance offered to Redcliffe’s rebel mages.

What happens following that decision will be revealed in future chapters, but post-Trespasser, Emrys goes back to sailing the seas with Isabela, for like Niamh, she has lost enough, and there is nothing in all Thedas that could keep her from being with the one she loves most.

#Dragon Age: Inquisition #female hawke #Emrys Hawke #photo set #my DA2 daughter returns!#do you guys mind at all when i ramble on about characters like this? lol #chapter 17 of OtSttCA will be up by this weekend with any luck!

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 5 years ago

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Death

Chapter One of “Secrets, Secrets”

Pairing: OC!Pedro Pascal x OC

Warnings: Dark elements (in later chapters), explicit!

Summary: Katherine ‘Kate’ Grey starts to spiral into the supernatural world after the death of a friend and a new neighbor next door.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Okay this is purely because I got bored and wanted to try this out. I’m still working with it but this is a good start.

(First one is not my pic!)

The moon was shining over the city. Though it did not need the moon to light the way – the city lights took care of that – it still hung in the dark sky, bright and full.

It was still just as eerie and chilly. The wind whispering against skin, left over trash breezing by.

The man, Andy, was walking home, having to stay late to look after a patient. Knowing it was dangerous to walk alone on the streets, he debated on whether he should take the turn into the alleyway. It was one of the shortest ways to get to his apartment, but an uncomfortable feeling overcame him when he looked into the darkness that surrounded the area.

He didn’t have enough time to start walking the other way before he was pulled into the alley, mouth covered and slammed into the wall before he could comprehend what was happening. He only got one brief look at his attacker before he felt a deep pain in his neck. It was useless to struggle, the attacker was too strong.

The last thing Andy saw was a smirk, blood curling around it before darkness overtook him.

…

Kate gasped as she bolted up, clutching her chest. It was another restless night, and she could not remember what the dream (or dreams) were about. All’s she knew is that it terrified her. It seized her body with a tight coil, squeezing and squeezing until she felt like she couldn’t breathe… She didn’t realize her alarm was still blaring until her ears stopped ringing.

Turning the alarm off her phone, Kate groaned as she stretched. Reveling in the cracks of her bones and feeling more alert now, she checked her phones for any messages as she made her way to her bathroom.

Kate grimaced at the reflection she found staring back at her. The dark circles under her light green eyes were more prominent today and her long, strawberry-blondish hair were sticking out like a crow’s nest. Pale ivory skin, slender curves hugged beneath oversized pajamas, and looking just about half dead. Sighing at herself, she quickly settled and changed into a simple t-shirt and black sweatpants. Today was one of her days off and she had every intention of taking full advantage of this rare opportunity; staying inside and doing practically nothing all day was a good way to go.

It was raining anyway, which wasn’t a surprise at all. Summer in the city was hot, but Kate didn’t mind it. She’d rather have the heat along with the storms than the harsh cold of winter. Going into her kitchen to brew some coffee – or what little of it she had left – she grabbed her tv remote from the coffee table and turned on the tv in her small but cozy living room. Flipping through the channels, she smiled as she saw there was nothing but old reruns of shows she barely had the luxury to sit through and enjoy. It was a good start.

Wrapping herself in a small blanket on the couch, Kate sipped her coffee as her eyes stayed glued to the tv. Being a young receptionist at the nearest hospital in New York City had its perks, but there were also those cons. As a child she never really had the ambitions to become a nurse or a receptionist of any kind, but as she got older Kate started to find herself leaning towards a medical profession rather than a writers. It didn’t mean Kate ever stopped writing though, she kept all her pieces in a binder on her nightstand by her bed.

Sometimes they would be poetry, other times documentaries of sorts; what happened in the world that day, what she did, felt, etc. It made her feel better at the end of the day, made her forget the horrors she saw at the hospital, even it was for a little while.

But there were other moments where Kate found herself awake in the middle of the night, pencil in hand and nothing but scribbles and nonsense on the pages sitting in her lap. Kate would be covered in sweat, feeling as though she had just ran a marathon, hair sticking to every inch of her body it could reach, and her heart would be beating straight out of her chest. It worried her, and she would always debate on throwing them away after.

It was not always like this. Growing up, Katherine Elizabeth Grey was a very happy and free-spirited child who always received A’s and B’s in school and was quick to make friends. Her parents were always accepting and encouraging, even when she moved out from her small country – surrounded more by towering mountains than cornfields and cows – to the big city.

The nightmares and dreams, however, were a completely different story. When she was younger she wasn’t afraid of them, they were simply harmless in her naïve eyes. But when the most recurring one became more prominent in making her feel as if she had no control over her self and would leave her visibly frightened, Kate began to realize that maybe the dreams actually had a message to them that bled into her reality; not in the way that came from stress or memories, but in a way that it was completely new and a warning, or a summoning she wanted no parts of.

Never once did it ever change. It would start out in a pale, gray forest. It vaguely reminded her of home. The trees would be curled and curved, dead but somehow still thriving with life (Kate often felt that she was the one giving them life). Leaves would crunch silently under her feet on top the gravel that looked too smooth to her. No wind, no signs of life (life that Kate was familiar with at least), just nothing. There’d only be one trail through the forest, and she knew better than to tread off; everything behind her would turn to utter darkness, and she wasn’t ready to see what lurked in the shadows.

It would end with her standing in front of an arch way. Vines twirled and entwined along the loop of it, surrounding what remained of the gray light. There’s nothing but endless darkness inside.

Shuddering at the thoughts of it, Kate drew herself closer. A chill ran through the room, but she was quick to ignore it.

Her quiet and relaxing morning was suddenly shattered by a loud bang from next door. Kate frowned. Her neighbors had moved out of her apartment complex about a month ago. They were nice, but Kate loved having to deal with less people. She contemplated just tuning it out until there was another, a little louder than before.

With a huff and a string of grumbles, Kate decided to investigate. Besides, if she was to have new neighbors, she wanted to catch a good look at them. Opening her door, she peered to her left where all the commotion was coming from. There were a few small and big boxes laid out in front of the open door, not labeled but looking quite full and heavy. She was about to just step back inside her apartment when a man came out, eyes immediately finding hers.

He was quite handsome. Dark brown eyes that were immediately captivating – Kate was positive photos did not do them the justice they deserved – with wavy dark hair that ended just below his ears. His skin was a beautiful tan color, pale in some areas but still beautiful. He was wearing a black, long sleeve shirt that hugged his biceps – he wasn’t quite built but there were still muscles protruding – with simple blue jeans and plain sneakers. The smile he sent her made her knees weak and her heart flutter; she refused to let him see the effect he was having on her by just one smile.

“I apologize if I was being too loud,” he said.

His voice was rich and smooth as honey. She detected a small sign of an accent as he spoke but couldn’t place where it came from. There was also a hint of teasing in his apology, but Kate could tell it was all in good fun.

Kate cleared her throat once she realized he was still waiting for a response. “N-no you’re fine. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she explained, suddenly shy now. “Sorry I bothered you!”

“You’re not a bother,” he called out, making her freeze mid turn. “So how do you like the city? I just moved out here for the first time so…”

Kate smiled politely at him, searching for words to say. She was too caught off guard.

“It’s not too bad,” she shrugged, leaning against the wall of her doorway. “I didn’t grow up here or anything, just moved here a few years ago actually.”

He hummed, crossing his arms. “Well maybe you could give me a tour one of these days? Show me the ropes.”

Kate felt her face flush. “Y-yeah maybe. I’m not sure I’m the best for tours but I’ll give it a shot.”

He grinned, showing perfect pearly teeth. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. I’m Damien by the way. Rhodes.”

Damien Rhodes. It sounded odd to Kate as she played it back in her head, but she grinned back nevertheless.

“Katherine, but I go by Kate.”

“Kate,” he tasted on his tongue. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Before she could say something – Kate wasn’t sure what she was going to say after her awestruck – the ringtone of her phone started to blare from her living room.

Damien chuckled at Kate’s face; it was a mixture of daze and shock. “Well I’ll let you get that. It was nice meeting you, Kate. And, if you don’t mind me saying, I look forward to many more.”

Kate huffed out a breath with a playful smile. “Sure. We’ll see. Nice meeting you too, Damien!”

She heard him chuckle as she bounced back into her apartment, shutting the door behind her. Kate shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts, running to her phone before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” She gasped out.

“Hey, did you hear about Andy?”

It was one of her friends and coworkers, Abby. She was a quiet woman, dark blonde locks matched with a pair of wide hazel eyes. Kate had put in time to make her come out of her shell, and Abby had grown more comfortable and confident with herself since. She was also one of the first friends she made after moving.

“No, what happened?”

Andy was another coworker of theirs, a doctor beloved by many who knew of him. He wasn’t a bad man or anything, but Kate didn’t really pay much attention to him despite knowing of his attraction towards her. She had let him down as gently as she could and he surprisingly took it well, and they’ve been civil coworkers ever since. She had to stay late and help him with a patient – a child who was still recovering from a devasting car crash – last night, and he seemed like normal Andy to her, which she suspected is why her heart starting pounding in her chest; it felt like she was in another dream, and wondered if she would remember this moment come the next time she opened her eyes.

“He’s -.” Abby’s voice trembled.

“Abby, what happened?” Kate asked sternly.

“They found him. In an alley on the way to his apartment. Just left there, like… like he was just tossed away with the trash.”

Kate froze. Her chest tightened, short of oxygen as she tried to comprehend what she had just been told.

“No that’s not -.” Kate croaked, licking her dry lips. “I was with him last night. There’s just… do they know h-how?”

Abby let out a heavy sigh into the phone. “Well they’re kinda puzzled by it actually,” her voice was still trembling, but it seemed to calm the more she talked. “He was completely drained of blood, and there were no other signs of a struggle or any other injuries.”

Kate furrowed her brows in confusion, sitting down on the arm of her couch before her legs gave out from her.

“Drained of blood?” She said shockingly. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. Listen I gotta go. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Kate stared at the screen of her phone. Dead. And she was one of the last people to see him. A new set of panic washed over her, palms growing sweaty.

Kate knew in the back of her head that there was no logical reason behind her panic; she knew she didn’t kill him and she had an alibi that would pass with cooperating witnesses and tapes.

So why did she feel like as if she did? Should she have walked home with him? Make him stay an extra hour? Make sure he was prepared for attacks?

There was nothing Kate could have done, and yet the responsibility of his death was still crushing her with its weight.

…

Kate felt dead on her feet as she trudged behind Andy, babbling away about a movie he was interested in seeing in theaters; she barely paid attention to the title of it.

“Anyways,” Andy continued mindlessly. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kate mumbled. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He called back as they went their separate ways.

Both Kate and Andy travelled either by cab, bus, or feet until they could afford a decent vehicle that would actually get them from point A to B; Kate especially had the worst of luck when it came to vehicles of all kinds.

Kate didn’t mind walking though, she had done plenty of hikes with her family before moving away. This night was a night like any other, streetlamps flickering as she walked by (upon remembering this Kate started to gape), barely a soul in sight on the streets.

It took only about twenty – thirty minutes for Kate to reach her apartment. She remembered getting out her keys to unlock the door and then…

…

Nothing. Kate didn’t even remember changing let alone managing to pass out in her bed. She closed her eyes tightly with a groan, feeling the developments of an unforgiving headache.

This was too much. What was supposed to be a relaxing day off turned into one of the worst days of her life, and more were to come.

Almost as if everything was working at clockwork, big, heavy knocks banged on her door, causing Kate to jump.

“C-coming.”

Kate cursed herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. She needed to calm down. Taking a shaky inhale, Kate opened the door to find two police officers.

“Katherine Grey?” The male asked.

“Yes,” Kate croaked.

“You’re not under arrest, but we need to ask you a few questions. About one of your coworkers, Andy Crumb.”

“I heard,” Kate had to clear her throat. “I’m more than happy to answer any of your questions. Please.”

Kate opened the door wider for the officers, who offered her polite smiles as they checked out her apartment.

Kate doesn’t know how or why the feeling suddenly came to her, but she suspected that Damien was standing at his door, smirking as he watched and listened as her life started to descend into madness.

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @outlawers, @hejahockey, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @our-mrlangdon, @snokesthrussy, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird

#i'm trying #pedro pascal #oc!pedropascal x oc #pedro pascal x oc #darkoc!pedropascal x oc #original characters #original story #secrets secrets #vampires #werewolves #demons #angels #witches #magic #spells #mine #new #the supernatural #dark

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unto-myself-together · 6 years ago

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Of Stories and Songs: Ch 6

A Haunted Mansion fanfic.

I did want to get this chapter out before the new year 2019, and I guess I accomplished that goal

Author notes and story below the cut.

Authornotes: I wanted to give off the clear impression that there really are 999 spirits roaming around, which is why there’s a lot of going on here in this chapter.

I also apologize; I couldn’t quite find a reference pic that I wanted for the hallway, which may be why it looks a little bad. I also can’t scan things right now very well with what I have on hand.

I also tried to make a picture for the Wallpaper Woman, but it did not come out quite right and I don’t want to post what I came up with.

In this chapter, Karen is beginning to figure out a few things about ghosts, a few things more about the residents of the mansion, as well as a few things about her own psychic abilities.

You may recognize the very end; it’s an edited version of what was originally the teaser for this story. You can still look up the original teaser by going here

And yes. That’s me singing. I may end up removing it if I don’t like it later. I can’t tell if I suck or not. Eh. It may be better if you stare at the hallway artwork while listening to the singing. I don’t know. Tell me if it’s any good.

~~~~

Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

~~~

Table of Contents:

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,

Chapter 6 , Chapter 7

~~~

Ch 6: Sixth Sense

~~~

“If you want the present to be different from the past, study the past.”

---Baruch Spinoza, philosopher

~~~~

Shaking.

She was still curled up in a ball and shaking, though nothing paid her any heed.

No being came and bothered her; neither Ghost Host nor statue.

In a room by herself.

With a single lightbulb.

And a pile of coffins.

Those didn’t move either, and she thanked the stars for that.

Taking a deep breath (a quickly developing habit), she---

---one movement at a time---

---gradually got herself to stand. On two feet, too.

The door of the closet was as solid as when she had first approached it. No sign or markings that a statue had thrusted its arms and face straight through.

Of course not. That would make too much sense in a house full of plain nonsense.

And opening the door only brought with it more nonsense: the hallway was a different hallway than the one she came down. Again. Naturally.

The closet only had one door, so how could she have ended up at a different hallway?

She winced her eyes shut, and slowly opened them again.

No use. The new hallway was still there.

A very long hallway with wooden floors showing underneath the sprawling emerald green carpet. It seemed to go on forever, outlined with light from the small chandeliers every so few feet away. The doors on either side seemed to go on forever as well….except….

There were no door handles on any of them.

She sighed and ventured out. No point in getting upset over this; clearly this was just another thing going for this place.

And it was decently lit; not as bright as she’d like, but she was too frightened that the statue may return if she tried to turn more lights on.

It was so much…louder than before. In the distance, she could hear doors slamming, some people were laughing….Or was that…screaming?

But there was also….singing.

How many people were here?

Who was singing?

(listen to the singing)

[Mother?]

[Mother? Will you sing again soon?]

[Please?]

[I like it when you sing.]

Mother? Was that …the little boy speaking?

Karen willed herself to move forward. The voice was hard to pinpoint where it was coming from, although it sounded close. With the wafting way the voice seemed to rise above all the other sounds of humans, one would have thought it would be easier to find.

She moved one way, only for the voice to sound as though it were coming from the other.

It was impossible to chase the voice.

She frowned and eventually moved in a straighter line.

The voice never wavered, but the sounds of the other people grew louder.

At some point, she reached a junction where a door visibly slammed shut all on its own in front of her.

She froze.

Had she…found more people? More ghosts?

“Hello?” She asked, tentatively.

There was no response. No even the lightbulb breaking trick that the statue had been fond of.

Biting her lower lip, she voted against opening any doors and continued on.

The deeper she went, the colder it got. And louder the noises grew. It was more apparent that there was both laughter and screams all vying for space in the echoing halls.

She tried not to chatter her teeth as she brought her jacket closer around her.

Ahead, a black coffin lay atop a table among decayed flowers and rotting leaves. It took her more than a few moments to notice the glass enclosure that lay behind the dying candles, giving her the hint that she had made her way to the glass room she’d seen from outside.

The conservatory.

She flinched as this information popped in her head. Knowledge was all well and good, but she was beginning to really hate that facts and memories were intruding straight into her brain.

As she drew closer, the coffin unexpectedly jerked.

“Carlotta?!! Carlotta, I can hear you! Open up this lid!”

Her mouth went dry; she couldn’t answer.

“I can HEAR you, Carlotta! I swear to pieces, I. WANT. OUT. I’m so tired of these little games you play.”

Below the jutting wood and through a small hole drilled in the sides, there was a single eyeball, pale white and outlined in the decaying flesh of a corpse.

“I. SEE. YOU.” The sinews of old flesh flexed.

Karen wasn’t sure how she was supposed to react. She felt so worn out, she couldn’t quite bring her own anxiety up in response to a talking corpse in a jerking coffin. In a split decision, she instead quickly moved on, away from the conservatory. The Ghost Host was bad enough; she didn’t need more dead people threatening her life. Why, she’d start to get used to it.

A safe distance away, she slowed her pace again, her hands instinctively going to her pockets to get warmth.

The ring….

She pulled it out. The diamond sparkled at the tip, and the golden band almost glowed in the dim light.

Such a pretty thing…..And such…..a very strange….feeling….

…..

She stood at the foot of a bed. The young boy was already tucked in for the night, but he clung to the maid’s apron.

“Please mother? Can’t you read me just one bedtime story? I’m scared.”

Emily Slater hesitated, but then looked in fondness upon the boy’s face.

“I suppose there’s time for one. Which would you like?”

“Your favorite, mother.” He grinned sheepishly at her.

“Again?” She chuckled, but settled down next to him. One of her hands gently went to smooth out the ruffled mop of his hair. “…Don’t you grow tired of it?”

“…You don’t ever tire of it…You said you liked it….And…A-and it will take a long time, so you don’t have to go back to him yet!”

Her face was overcome with solemnity and sorrow. She gently cupped his face and stroked his cheek.

“You shouldn’t worry about such things, little one,” she said this with a smile, but her eyes told a different story. “Leave that to me, all right? Now, how does this story begin again…?”

She gave him a teasing side eye, which the boy responded in turn with an even wider grin.

“Once upon a time!” He said.

“Oh, that’s right! How could I forget? Once upon a time…

There lived a beautiful young woman named Ella.

But she lived with her cruel stepmother, and her equally cruel stepsisters.

They did not treat her like one of the family; instead, they treated her as a lowly servant.

And she was made to sleep amongst the fireplace cinders.

Her dirty, soot caked face convinced the stepsisters to start calling her

Cinderella.”

“But she didn’t give up and she tried really really hard to stay good!” The boy said.

“That’s right. Despite how cruel they were, she never gave up.

Her mother had made her promise to always be a good person, no matter what.

And so she always tried to be the best she could be.

One day, the handsome prince of the kingdom invited all of the girls in the village to his royal ball.”

“So that he could find someone to marry.”

“Yes…so he could find someone to marry…”

“And Ella is the one he found and fell in love with!” The boy exclaimed, eager now. “And he saved her from her cruel stepfamily and they lived happily ever after!”

Emily laughed and playfully poked his nose. “I thought you wanted to hear me read a story to you. Not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry, mother.” The boy couldn’t tone down his smile. “It’s my favorite part, because Ella gets all the nice things she deserves…”

“Yes…” Emily smiled back at him, a little bit more wistfully. “That part is my favorite too…”

The boy stared up at her, his smile dying down. “….Would you…want a prince to come save you, mother?”

She was startled by the question, her mouth hanging open. “I….that is…”

“Do…do you think that Nathaniel is the prince…?”

“No,” she said, rather firmly and immediately. But she then added: “Perhaps at one time…I may have thought he was. But that was a long time ago.”

The boy’s expression was unreadable, but he continued to watch her.

“What if….What if I saved you, mother?”

“…What?”

“When I grow up…I can come and save you, like the prince in the story!” The child’s enthusiasm was precious enough that she could not help but smile sweetly back at him.

“You can’t…you can’t marry me, little one,” she said, trying her best not to laugh at the well intentioned naiveté.

“No, but I can save you! I could! When I grow up, I promise!”

“You…” She tried not to let her emotions overcome her. The boy’s childish, pure logic was enviable.

She sighed, and stroked his hair. “I think you will have much more important things to focus on when you grow up. You should concentrate on school an—“

“Emily! Oh Emily!” A young man walked in. His face, and the way he held himself, looked all too familiar.

The man from the first memory.

“Nathaniel! I’ll…I’ll be with you in a moment. I’m telling a story—“

“Could it be a story about how my mother died years ago…” Nathaniel interrupted, his eyes narrowing in the young boy’s direction, “…and this brat is responsible?”

“Nathaniel!” She gasped, and tried to pull him away as he approached the child.

The boy whimpered and cowered under the covers, perhaps with the belief it might somehow save him.

“Oh, but Emily. My sweet Emily, there’s no mincing words. If he hadn’t been born…”

“Nathaniel! Not now, please.”

“And why NOT now? It’s as good a time as ever to bring it up again! Especially as he’s all nice and cozy in bed, being read to him by his ‘dear mother’.”

These last words he said with both heavy sarcasm and a disgusted sneer.

“How wonderful that you have a mother to read you stories!”

The man grew more and more visibly red in the face as he screamed.

“How I wish I could say the same, isn’t that right?!”

“Nathaniel, please. Nathaniel…I…I-I can read to you too, if you’d li-“

“Shut up!”

A sickening sound later and Emily was on the floor, hand clasped her face.

Nathaniel looked at her, almost in disbelief, and slowly looked at his own hands.

“N-no. Mother!” The child threw the covers off and tried to run to her side.

But Nathaniel grabbed him and pushed him to the ground. “What do you think you’re doing, brat? You see what you do? Do you see how angry you made me?! It’s…It’s your fault! It’s all your fault! You stupid little—“

Emily threw herself at the man as he advanced on the boy. “Nathaniel, please stop!”

“Let go of me! He needs to be taught his place. He needs to be taught a lesson.”

....

Her head was throbbing as she banged it against the wall in an effort to scuttle away.

Karen.

Her name was Karen, right?

That was right, right?

Karen’s whole body was shaking. That memory, or whatever it was, was much more powerful than the others. She struggled to bring herself back to the present time.

A hallway. The mansion house that she and Michael had entered.

Karen. Her name was Karen.

In a futile effort, Karen closed her eyes and tried to will away the feeling of a mark across her face.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Her cheek wasn’t REALLY stinging from a man hitting her.

She rose a hand to her face to feel against her cheek. There was no pain. It all vanished as soon as she did that.

Her attention went back to the memory. Emily looked younger than she did in the memory with the Ghost Host….and yet…

She didn’t remember the boy being with her when Emily struck a deal with the Ghost Host.

Why hadn’t she taken her son with her when she fled the mansion?

Karen’s stomach dropped as she thought through the implications of this.

What happened….to her son…?

She leaned heavily against the wall. Her head was pounding as soon as she stood up, and it was causing her to see things.

Strange things.

Like the face in the wallpaper.

……..

Karen blinked again.

…..There was a face…..in the wallpaper….of the hall….

She shook her head to try and get the pounding away, but that only made the pain worse.

It also didn’t seem to make the face disappear; on the contrary, it was now coupled with a set of hands.

Karen took a few uneasy steps back. The wallpaper already looked like a series of faces, and more than once she had to ignore what she’d thought were eyes blinking back at her. But this was such an obviously sculpted human form that she couldn’t just wave it away as a flight of fancy result of too many memories.

And it was becoming more and more pronounced by the seconds.

First it had been a face, mouth wide open as if frozen in a scream.

Then it had been a set of hands, reaching in front as if trying to escape.

Next a torso.

Then a foot.

A dress.

A person…

The wallpaper woman, newly freed from the wall, mechanically turned to Karen’s direction. Karen stumbled back further as the mouth opened and closed as if on hinges, hands opening and closing as if stretching. The pliability of the wallpaper person was increasing.

They could now close their mouth.

They could now put their hands down.

They could now open their eyes: Stark white eyes, with no pupils in sight.

Karen stumbled further back out of caution.

“Miss Slater!!” The Wallpaper Woman yelled, advancing upon her, “Miss Slater! Are you messing around with that boy again?!”

“Uh…uh….”

The woman was advancing further and further. A human shape, human face, but completely composed of wallpaper, save for stark white eyes. The purple of the paper of her “dress” almost had a sheen to it, like real silk would have.

“I swear, if the Master finds out what you’ve been doing with his son, he’ll kick you out for sure! Be thankful the war has preoccupied him for so long!”

But how do I say no to Nathaniel? I’m scared.

Karen tried to shake the intrusive thought away. She was already under the end table of the hallway.

“I’m only hard on you for your own good, Miss Slater!”

The Wallpaper Woman pounded on the table, her knocking almost akin to slamming her fist down in frustration.

Karen screamed, in part because she didn't know what to do, but also in some vain hope someone would help her.

The Wallpaper Woman paused. Karen could see the “hem” of her “dress” as it jutted out into her personal space.

The woman’s face loomed as the spirit ducked down its torso.

“You….” She said, her pupil-less eyes staring.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Karen whimpered; she could not retreat any further back and resorted to sticking her arms up in defense.

“Y-you….”

The Wallpaper Woman’s eyes began to flicker….a circle forming in the center of each of them….a pupil….

“Y-y-you…are….m-mortal….” The Wallpaper Woman stuttered in time with the flickering pupils.

Karen was struck speechless with confusion. This was a heel face turn and she couldn’t bring herself to respond.

“W-what…..what…..are you…..doing here…..?” The pupils seemed to refuse to solidify fully.

“I….I’m sorry….I’m….lost….” Karen finally managed to gulp back the lump.

The Wallpaper Woman laughed weakly. It had a sound similar to sandpaper slapped and scrapped together.

“So….so am I….Lost…I am Lost…like many…here….”

The spirit was retreating, and Karen, after hesitating, felt safe enough to poke her head out from under the table.

The spirit was….going backwards, as if by invisible force, towards the wallpaper. She reached it, and her face was contorted in agony for a flicker of a second as a crunching sound was heard.

“Wait!” Karen got out and approached her. “How do I get out of here? How do I find my friend? You haven’t….you haven’t seen a living boy--”

That sounded so odd out of her mouth.

“A living boy about my age come by here, have you?”

The crackling continued; the wallpaper surrounding the spirit began to latch onto the spirit herself, returning her to the rest of the wall.

“Down the hall….to the junction….” The spirit’s voice began to crackle too. “Two rights….one left…to the ballroom…the ones there are not Lost…they can help….they can help better…”

The ghost let out a cry as it fell further into the wall, which alarmed Karen. The ghost’s arms and dress were already dispersed through the wall.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked anxiously, her mortal hands hovering around the wallpaper in an attempt to help, but she wasn’t sure what to help with.

“Don’t let….” The ghost’s voice was beginning to fade now. “Don’t let…Master…Gracey….he will possess you…He wants…a body….”

The crackling came to a climax as the woman’s head embedded into the wall. The mouth of the woman fell silent as it was crackled over with more wallpaper.

It was hard to tell there had ever been a woman at all…

Master Gracey….

Which Master Gracey? As far as Karen could guess, Gracey was a family name and not one particular person.

Karen continued onward. At least the spirit had been nice enough to give her directions, but now she had even more questions.

Who was that ghost, since she knew Emily Slater?

Why did the ghost think she was Emily Slater?

What did the ghost mean by saying she herself was ‘Lost’? Wouldn’t a spirit who had lived here (or was it unlive?) for a long time know their way around?

Why did she have to find ghosts who were not ‘Lost’ in order to find her way out?

Did this have something to do with those strange white eyes that the spirits in this hallway seemed to all possess?

Karen turned all of these thoughts over in her head. Now that she considered it, the statue ghost had backed off after getting a set of pupils too.

The junction.

Karen had reached the junction. Four hallways (including the one she’d just came from) all intersecting together. And they were all different.

To the left, was such a completely dark hallway, it was impossible to see.

In the front was a brightly lit hallway, but it was encased completely in spider’s webs and parts of the doorframes and objects were severely distorted like something from a dream.

To the right…and Karen was very grateful for this, it was a hallway lit with moderate amounts of green light. The green light was creepy, but the hallway itself looked much like the one she had just came from.

One right….

As she wandered down the hall, the green light making her feel like a shamrock, she heard a deep….booming….laugh….

“Hmm hmm hmm hmmm…..”

That sounded just like….

“Ghost Host…?” She called out tentatively.

Her fingers felt along the edges of another table, preparing herself to hide again. That laughter couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

An old hat stool beside her…..her head was beginning to pound again….this felt just like…

…..

The slamming of the door caused Lucy to look up. The master, Solomon Gracey, had barged through the front entrance with an absolute look of chagrin on his face.

Immediately, she sought to step forward.

“Sir, shall I take your coat and hat?”

But he seemed to pay her no heed, instead choosing to take out a length of letter head and angrily scribble something she couldn’t quite read from her vantage point.

“S-sir?” She tentatively stepped closer, and Solomon’s face snapped to hers.

She almost felt frozen; held in the gaze of brilliantly blue eyes that still smoldered with barely restrained fury.

“S….S-s-sir?”

The gaze softened into surprise; and she felt release as if from physical bonds as his expression turned more neutral.

“Yes, Miss Blanchard? Did you need me?”

“Your….your coat….”

Confusion crossed his lips, then…

“Oh….yes, of course.” He shrugged off his outer coat and handed it to her alongside his hat. “Tell me, is Abigail around?”

“She…she should be in the main parlor, sir.”

“Of course. Thank you.” He nodded his acknowledgement to her with an apologetic smile, before leaving her. He took the paper with him.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lucy!” A female voice whispered.

Lucille looked up to see Elizabeth, another maid, standing in the doorstep. She felt obliged to neatly hang up the master’s affects before joining her. The wafting fragrance of cypress, vetiver, and sandalwood rubbed off of the clothes and seemingly followed along with her.

Elizabeth giggled as Lucy came close.

“The master and Abigail are talking in the parlor.” Elizabeth said.

“I know; I sent him there.” Lucy took another deep breath, trying to wave away the memory of that stare (and also partially the fragrance of his clothes).

“Don’t you want to go up and give a little listen?” Elizabeth asked, coyly.

“I tell you; I do not think that is a very good idea at the moment. The master seemed rather angry coming in just now.”

“Oh he won’t mind. He’s already caught me eavesdropping before.”

“Elsie!” Lucy cried, laughing a bit with a tinge of red in her face.

“Well it is true! Just the other day, in fact! I was polishing the door handles when-“

“You don’t polish any of the door handles!” She playfully pushed at her friend.

“A good maid has to be attentive to every detail!” Elizabeth playfully pushed back.

“Hogwash. You were there solely because you wanted to listen in.”

“Aren’t you curious enough to know what happened?”

Lucy stared back at the gall of her friend. Both couldn’t resist to hold a cheeky smile on the edges of their lips.

“Go on then. Don’t leave me in suspense.” Lucy said.

“Well I was listening in, and it seems the company has been having trouble with that Williams’ family in town.”

“When are they not vying for each other’s business?”

“But that’s not the whole of it! I also heard of a circus…”

“A circus?”

“Yes. You know that strange circus that’s been making its rounds across the state? They were here some many years ago. It was so filled with dark things and death that I could scarcely stand it.”

“I remember it. But why the circus?”

“Well there seems to be a singer he’s taken an interest in.”

“To hire?”

“I’d say it was because he had something of a fancy for her. I can’t think of any reason why the Gracey family would need to hire a circus performer.”

“Neither can I, and yet you’re here.”

“Lucy!” The gobsmacked expression on Elsie’s face made it well worth the statement, even if it earned her a pinch on her arm in the process.

“And for my next trick!” Lucy stated with a giggling air of grandiosity. “I, the Great Elsie, will attempt—and fail—to fold the a simple shirt!”

“You beast, you beast!” Elsie laughed along as she nudged her friend harder.

“But you haven’t said the part where you’re caught.”

“I would get to that if it weren’t for all these interruptions you cause.”

They stared each other down, all smiles, and Elsie finally gave way first.

“All right, all right. So there I was. An ear to the door, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

“Hush you. An ear to the door, and, before I had known it, the door had suddenly swung open, and I landed none too ceremoniously at the master’s feet!”

“You didn’t! What did he say?”

“He was rather amused; you could read it on his face. I could even swear that those handsome blue eyes of his glistened a bit too. And he was very much the gentleman, allowing me to gather myself without so much as a word at my expense. But the moment I was up and proper, my dress smoothed out and face as red as a rose he leaned forward a bit and….”

“….And?? Elsie!”

Elizabeth laughed and leaned towards her. “And he said ‘Remember for next time, Miss Fletcher, that the doors in this particular hallway swing inward.’”

Both erupted in a fit of giggles.

“He didn’t.”

“He did!”

“Does that mean he approves of the habit?”

“I certainly mean to take it that way. Mr. Galloway, who was the one speaking to him, was not so amused. Oh but you should have seen it, Lucy. I could swear by Mr. Gracey’s grin he was teasing me. Perhaps I stand as much a chance as that circus performer.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I think he was only humoring you. A smile doesn’t always mean a spark; you’ve too vivid an imagination for your own good sometimes.”

“A girl can still dream.” Elsie’s grin widened and she poked at her friend’s elbow. “You can’t honestly say that YOU’VE never felt a bit of a thing for our young employer, now can you?”

“Of course not.”

“…Uh huh.”

Lucy very much believed she did a good job steadying her emotions. But the moment she peered over and saw Elsie’s smug little grin, she could feel her face heating up.

“Well at the very least, I don’t wear it upon my sleeve. Unlike some people.” Lucy elbowed her back. “Your wanting is very nearly improper.”

“Oh it is very improper. To think; an eligible bachelor of his status ever considering to court a maid, of all people. But one doesn’t have to be courted to try and catch a gentleman’s eye. A little fun off the books never hurt anyone... ”

“Elsie!” Lucy’s face felt even hotter. “That is so inappropriate! Truly, I should think your mouth ought to be washed with soap!”

But Elsie only laughed. “Speaking of inappropriate, shall we go and listen in on what the master and Miss Galloway are doing in the parlor?”

Lucille made a face. “I don’t….think that’s wise today, Elsie.”

“Well why not?”

“The Graceys are just as much known for their generosity in payment as they are for their quick and violent tempers. And I’m telling you, the master’s temper looked particularly ready to boil over when he came in just now. I know firsthand what happens when one of the family is peeved with you…”

As if in response, the scars on her back stung a bit despite their age. The marks of a fine piece of birch.

“Oh my dear Lucy.” Elsie gently touched her cheek out of comfort. “I do so forget that you are used to Mrs. Emmeline Gracey. I promise you, as someone who has spent much time with Mr. Solomon before he left for school that he is not like his other relatives. His temper is as the same as them, but he has never once raised a hand to me or anyone else that works here. It’s all right.”

Lucy hesitated, but nonetheless allowed herself to be dragged by the hand as they crept upstairs to the walkway overlooking the main parlor.

“Speaking of a thing for the master. Have you ever notice how Miss Abigail Galloway looks at him? ….He looks at her much of the same way…”

….

Karen was panting, her hands shaking as she sat grasping the hat stand. Somehow, she had slumped her way down to the floor.

Were these….memories….getting more frequent?

Karen….her name was Karen…

And that’s exactly when she realized; she was no longer a third person observer.

The first memories she’d seen, she had always been her own separate person, watching in on the people in the memory as if she were some omnipotent being.

But this memory….she wasn’t Karen watching in….she was Lucy.

She was actually Lucy.

And before, she’d been Emily. She’d actually raised her hand to her cheek in response to being struck by Nathaniel.

If this continued on…was she going to…..

Was Karen going to….

She gave a soft cry and leaned against the hat stand.

She was still shaking so badly, she wasn’t sure she could stand up.

“Hmm hmm hmmm….”

“Ghost Host!” She cried out. “Ghost Host Ghost Host Ghost Host…”

In that moment, she wasn’t sure if she cared that he’d torment her further. She just wanted something familiar to latch onto. To ground her. Anything.

“What’s this? Calling for me now?”

“Yes…” Karen choked out, clinging to the hat stand like a teddy bear.

“My, we must be desperate. Could it be that you’ve missed me? Please do be honest, hmm hmm…”

She gritted her teeth. Already, he was getting on her nerves; this was a bad idea. But it was the best she had. She couldn’t even think straight at the moment. She still had Lucy’s thoughts swimming in her head.

“Yes,” She lied.

“….What an underwhelming response. You couldn’t at least flatter me a little, my dear? Say how wonderful I am and how happy you are to hear my voice? ”

Again, that stupid tone in his voice that gave off the impression of superiority and mockery. She grasped the hat stand tighter.

“Are you, perhaps, stuck? Need assistance to get where you’re going?”

“I….” She would have preferred to have found her way without having to resort to this creep’s help, but the pounding of her head and the haze in her brain already made her forget how many turns she made.

Was it supposed to be two lefts and a right? Or two rights and a left?

“….Yes…” She breathed, worn out, “Yes, I need help.”

“As you wish.”

The door nearest to her swung open and a suit of armor appeared. A moving suit of armor, naturally.

“Because why not…?” She muttered under her breath.

She didn’t immediately figure out why he summoned a moving suit of armor until it took a swing at her hat stand with an axe.

The sound of the top of the hat stand being sliced through and clattering to the floor had a semi sobering effect on her. She jumped to attention, and barely managed to dodge as another swing came for her head.

“You said helping! This isn’t helping!”

She careened down the hall, the suit of armor in hot pursuit.

“Ah, but it’s helping you move, isn’t it?”

“I hate you,” she seethed under her breath, “For once, can you not be a little piece of—“

She was interrupted when a wall suddenly materialized in her way.

“Tsk, tsk. Good mortals watch their language.”

She fumed, angry tears in her eyes, but gave no further reply. She had to duck again as another axe swing came her way.

Down a different hallway. Left. Right again. Was she going the correct way? The hallways were getting quieter. No longer could she hear the chorus of people laughing and screaming. That couldn’t be a good sign.

She stumbled against the wall, picking herself up just long enough to turn around the next corner. Another hallway filled with creaky wooden floors and seemingly endless darkness.

But she didn’t have time to think or even consider that the corridor that lay in front of her was worse than the one behind.

She had to keep moving forward.

And forward.

And--

Something suddenly slammed into her. She stepped back, dazed at first, only to feel in front, anxiety growing, and confirmed it: A wall.

“Dead end?”

A taunt and a chuckle as she frantically grasped around in the darkness for some hope of a door.

She could feel him. More and more it was becoming as if he had a tangible presence. The longer she stood in that one spot, the colder she grew and the more pronounced the sensation crept down her spine.

She had a feeling that it wasn’t just out of fear; there was something about being near the self-proclaimed ‘Ghost Host’ that made her feel like icy fingers were gently clawing down her back. Needless to say, it was none too pleasant a feeling.

She couldn’t see. There were still leftovers of tears in her eyes and her pounding head was still making it hard to think, but that mattered very little when the hallway itself was so dark. There were shapes in the shadows creeping towards her, but she had no way of knowing if one of them was the armor. They moved and danced to give the darkness an almost liquid appearance.

And they were coming closer.

And CLOSER.

AND–

A door banged open right near her, jolting her from her helpless staring. She felt something else moving in the darkness, something that was distinctively different.

Quite suddenly, her mouth was full with the taste of….licorice?

“What,” A different voice, low and deep and angry “in Blue Heavens is all this racket?!”

She could actually see a little better in the doorway, as the man was illuminated a bit from some unseen light from within. Somewhat tall with a fine cut suit, he gave off the airs of an extremely influential individual.

His eyes.

Unlike the statue’s. Unlike the coffin man’s. Unlike the wallpaper woman’s.

He did NOT have milky white eyes. He had pupils.

They were as blue and as beautiful as always. Perhaps even more so than she’d seen in the memories or even in his portrait.

And he was standing before her now.

Solomon Gracey.

#fanfiction #haunted mansion fanfiction #the haunted mansion fanfiction #fanfics #my fanfiction

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sisterbestill · 6 years ago

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I write this on my iPhone, sitting next to my dad, who is currently getting his 4th Chemo Therapy Treatment of Carboplatin and Taxol. The drugs are chemical bombs and each week the accumulative damage grows. They pre-treat him with histamine blocking meds so he doesn’t have reactions, but he has reactions during the infusion, like he can’t breath. The nurses are well aware and calmly manage the reactions with more meds. These meds cause him to become very drowsy, so the remainder of the day becomes about keeping him from falling.

I still am trying to process all that has occurred since early August 2018. I look back on these pictures of our last outing at Lake Jocassee and never would have guessed how things would change just a week later. I’ve often wondered how cancer strikes people so quickly, now I know. I am writing this so I will never forget each minute that will forever live with me. I am also using this as a way to cope and understand something that is unfamiliar and terrifying.

My parents have always taken care of themselves and one another. They have been very lucky to have good health and I have been lucky to have them as energetic as they are in their eighties. When they moved up here from Florida, I was delighted I was going to finally be able to spend more time with them - like daily and weekly vs. just twice a year. They moved 15 minutes away or a lovely 60 min bike ride through rolling countryside and mountains. I was giddy and felt the universe shift a bit. I felt pulled to them. They are in fact two of the coolest, funniest, and open-minded people I know.

Shortly after this kayak trip (photos above) they decided to make a pact to live to 100 and created a “bucket list”. They were thankful for their health and never took it for granted. Perhaps the bucket list idea was a way to for them to celebrate how young they felt or perhaps they recognized they were chronologically getting up there.

Paddling on Jocassee was relaxing, calm, and beautiful; Certainly an experience they would have loved to have recreated again and I am hopeful they will. It may look different in the future, but I suspect the beauty and calmness of the lake will bath their brains in peace.

A week after snapping these pics, I got a call from my mom, she was on her way to the ER with my Dad. I was working one floor up and met them in the ER. While we waited, I learned my Dad had been feeling fatigued for several months and had developed shortness of breath over last few weeks. It wasn’t evident on the kayak trip that he was struggling, but it was obvious in the ER. My mom said they had been to their primary care several times and their primary care doc reassured him it was natural aging, as tests did not reveal anything to be concerned about.

As we sat for 6 hours in the waiting area, I was certain it was nothing serious. Afterall, my dad had no other health issues other than a little hypertension. His meds consisted of an 81 mg baby aspirin and amlodipine 2.5 mg each day - what a lucky guy. I was thinking maybe he had pleurisy or walking pneumonia.

We finally were shown to a room and labs were drawn. We were relieved to finally get things moving. By this time my sister, Lori, and I were getting silly from the fatigue of waiting. We were thoroughly entertained by a belligerent drunk guy on a stretcher in the halllway who seemed to draw all the attention of the medical staff while we well-behaved folks waited for answers.

I noticed my dad’s HR would easily jump to a sinus tach in the 130s with just a little bit of movement. Something didn’t seem right, but I was not going to speculate or think the worst. I was just his daughter, at his side, keeping the mood light.

We were informed by the physician assistant caring for us that his left diaphragm was elevated and was probably the cause of his shortness of breath. I was a little taken back as this was an unusual finding that left me with a knot in my stomach. Not too long after this finding he was whisked away for a CT of his chest.

He returned to the room and we waited for results. The PA came in with a sticky note and said she read off it: “You have a very large anterior mediastinal mass...No one here will operate because of your age...We are discharging you and you will need to see an oncologist.”

Our mouths dropped. My stomach bottomed-out as she said “mass” and my face flushed. We all just blankly looked at one another. Go home?

I spoke to a good nurse friend in recovery and she called the thoracic resident. I spoke to the PA who delivered the news and said, “We can’t go home. He is short of breath. He and my mom live alone. His Heart rate is bouncing up to 130s. He is weak. Please admit him and consult thoracic surgery.” My dad chimes in, “I’m not a throw away!” Meaning he doesn’t want to be dismissed because of his chronological age. He was far healthier than most half his age and this deserved a second look. The radiologist who read the report never actually saw my dad, but he did see a birthdate.

The next day, the interventional radiologist who read his CT and gave us the crappy news also did a needle biopsy of this baseball size mass.

We went home on a Wednesday after 2 days and waited. We were waiting for results and waiting for an appointment with a thoracic surgeon. Waiting is tough and if you are sick you will learn the meaning of patience.

We made it to Sunday when I thought something wasn’t right with my dad. He continued to have episodes of shortness of breath, but something was still off. I knew he had anxiety, but this was different. He said he felt fine and I almost left it at that. As a nurse you learn to listen to your 6th sense.

My parents live in a remote part of the county where everything is 30 min away. I left there house and an hour later returned with a pulse oximeter that I purchased from a CVS drug store. His oxygenation was 95% not bad for a guy now breathing 40 times a minute with 1.25 lung capacity. However, his pulse read 155 and I was baffled. No way?! I palpated his radial artery and it was a match. Off we went to the ER...

ER visit number II was faster as we went to a smaller satellite hospital 30 min from their home. The rhythm was too fast on the monitor to establish what it was so the ER MD attempted to chemically cardiovert him with adenosine. Adenosine is pushed quickly through an IV. It stops and restarts the heart. I can not lie, I was nervous. It’s so diffferent when this is your own family member. My mom tearfully excused herself and I stayed by his bedside. The ER doc informed my dad it would suck, and we proceeded. It sucked. He felt his heart stop and I watched his eyes bulge and panic come across his face for 3 of the longest seconds of my life. We were able to see he had an underlying atrial flutter. We were started on a verapamil drip and were transported to the main hospital for management by a cardiologist. His heart converted back to a normal rhythm on the verapamil drip before we left the ER in transport to Main hospital at 1 am. We were under the impression it was stress related to the new shitty diagnosis and having to wait on results.

The next day he had an echocardiogram to look at the structure and function of his heart. He was started on a Metoprolol a drug that blocks adrenaline and keeps heart rate lower and it was doing its’ job.

He spent 2 nights in hospital and outside of naps, lacked solid hours of good sleep. We finally got word that his ECHO results were good. No one said a word about metastatic disease to his pericardium. We were told he had a small ring of fluid within the pericardial sack, but it wasn’t a lot and certainly not something they felt needed draining. The atrial flutter responded well to the metoprolol and we were discharged home to once again wait for our thoracic surgery appointment.

We finally made it to the thoracic surgeon to learn of what was growing in my dad’s mediastinum. I was hoping for a thymoma, but instead we drew the really short stick with a highly aggressive, highly invasive cancer called: Squamos Cell Thymic Carcinoma.

WTF? Come on! Can we not catch a break here?

I had never heard of this type of cancer and neither have many in the medical field cause in addition to being aggressive and invasive, it is also a rare tumor. A rare tumor that hasn’t impacted enough lives that researchers devote a lot of time, money and effort into understanding it. Not only that, but sadly, most people die before any data can be collected. Once you get short of breath, dry cough and fatigue it is usually advanced.

PET Scan had some questionable lymph nodes light up, but no other disease was noted distal to the mediastinal cavity.

We hoped it could be removed. Excising the tumor was first choice in the management of this cancer and had the best outcomes, but to do this the surgeon would need to get clean margins. The thoracic surgeon wanted a cardiac MRI to examine if this tumor had invaded any of his great vessels. CT scans had only shown that the tumor was abutting the ascending aorta, but we needed to be certain cause the surgery involved opening his sternum with a saw and recovery would be 5-6 weeks. The surgeon emphasized that he didn’t want to operate and create trauma without being able to get the entire tumor. He didn’t want to delay care in a time-is-of-the-essence scenario.

It was 6pm on a Monday evening just days out from last hospitalization, when I returned to their house to check on him. Earlier that morning, my mom and I took his mini Pomeranian back to the vet and learned it was dying. The vet apologized and said it was time. We put my dad’s 18 y/o Pom, Ben, to sleep at 10:30. My mom held him and he passed. We were a mess. We told my dad and his response seemed flat. Distant.Something else was on his mind.

I stayed close and felt something was amiss, something was unfolding, progressing. I was thinking is he getting an infection? His temp was 100.2, slightly more SOB, and his pulse was 95-110 at rest, on a beta blocker. Nowhere near his norm and I could not ignore this or excuse it. My dad is precious to me. I looked at my mom and dad, apologized as I informed them we needed to go back to the ER. They were agreeable. I think he was relieved I recognized something was wrong.

Shortly after arrival at the satellite ER labs were drawn and ultrasound of his heart was done by ER doc. He said there appeared to be a large fluid collection around my dad’s heart. We were again admitted to ICU for a condition called Cardiac Tamponade. Early the next morning he had the fluid drained 600 ml from around his heart. The fluid build up which is inside the pericardial sac squeezes the heart. The heart can be stunned and go into failure. The fluid that was drawn off was sent for cytology. It was suspicious. It was likely metastatic disease.

In fact after annoying the cardiologist with repeated questions in the hallway, he motioned me over to his computer screen. He showed me the ECHO and pointed out the thickening of the pericardium and showed me a mass dangling from his ventricle. I didn’t need to wait for cytology. This was confirmation for me that we were very far into a disease process. My face flushed, my heart sank, and my stomach dropped as I comprehended the situation. I thanked the MD and my mom asked what he was showing me. I told her. I saw the color leave her face.

The thoracic surgeon was still hoping to remove the mass as the CT didn’t show it had invaded the great vessels, but he did want a Cardiac MRI which was on the back burner. We were still in ICU cause the Cardiac Tamponade and procedure to drain the fluid triggered a lot of Atrial Flutter and Atrial Fibrillation. We waited for the Cardiac MRI for 3 days. There is only one machine and his was repeated twice before they got quality images. The thoracic surgeon finally met with us and after consulting his partners, radiologist, and oncologist, it was decided surgery was just too risky and he wasn’t certain he could get clear margins. He stressed how he didn’t want to create more problems or delay my dad in getting treatment if there were complications. We very much appreciated the thoughtfulness of his answer. We really didn’t have a minute to spare. The surgeon decided to cut a window in my dad’s heart so the cancer did not build up more fluid and compress this vital organ again. The cancer cells would drain into his belly instead of filling the pericardial sack.

We were discharged home in a questionable state: weak. At first we were told he would stay until he was walking well, but the hospital was full and we were off-loaded unexpectedly. Home is a place with stairs. Stairs to to get in and stairs to get out and the most movement he had done in a week was walking 25 ft with a walker and that was exhausting for him. I was concerned about falls. How were me and my mom going to get 170 lb man up 5 steps safely? He was too weak. He hadn’t eaten, he had not slept in 10 days. We were behind the eight ball and chemo had not even started.

Chemo is rough. To survive chemo, one needs some level of fitness, meaning able to perform ADLs independently and move often. We were overwhelmed. The next week was labor intensive and emotionally draining. Here we were home and we were struggling. He still wasn’t eating, still not sleeping, and my radar was on constant alert. I spent my days observing and looking for subtle changes. Oh and there were changes that needed immediate attention as he flipped in and out of rapid atrial fibrillation and got urinary tract infection.

I was scared and my dad was terrified. In times when we were alone, he would ask me: “How did this happen?” He would shake his head as if disappointed in his body. Disbelief. He was unable to comprehend it and he too was terrified.

To be continued...

#thymiccancer #cancer #chemo #raretumor #cancersucks #thymiccarcinoma #thisislife

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littlebitofeverythingphff · 7 years ago

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Chapter 37

A/N: I apologize for my delay in updating, its been busy in my personal life and also Harry and Meghan got engaged! On that note, yes I will be continuing to write my fanfics despite that! Hope you all still tag along with me. *I had an article done for this chapter but the site is giving me issues so will post it at a later date, but there are pics at the bottom for you to enjoy* THIS MAY BE THE LAST UPDATE UNTIL THE NEW YEAR FYI SO I MADE IT EXTRA LOOONG FOR YOU!

‘I cannot wait to see you tomorrow Henry. Have fun with the kiddos tonight; Ainsley and I are watching the awards. Remember to smile xo’

A smile crept up on the prince’s lips while he read Adalyn’s text. Tonight he had the Well Child awards to attend, a night he had always enjoyed but this time, he would be asked by many about his newly revealed girlfriend Addy. It wasn’t the fact that he was ashamed of her, he only wanted to keep his private life exactly that… private.

Harry had been worried about Adalyn ever since she told him her fears about her ex Jake. He never wanted to leave her by herself in case Jake tried anything, so he persuaded Addy to have a girl’s night with her best friend Ainsley. That way he could relax a little and enjoy the night’s event.

He quickly sent his reply seeing that they had arrived at the hotel venue. The crowds had gathered as well as the relentless press. Harry exited the vehicle eyeing Luther as the cheers from the by standers grew louder with screams of his name.

“How can a ginger be this popular?” Luther chuckled making the prince release a low groan.

“It’s all yours if you want Luther.” Harry waved to the crowds with a smile before walking briskly to the hotel to greet the director of Well Child.

Addy’s POV

“He looks quite fine Addy, damn girl!” Ainsley handed her a glass of wine after clearly checking out her boyfriend as they watched a live stream of the Well Child Awards.

“He looks better with his clothes off…” Addy giggled into her glass of wine taking a gulp. Ainsley’s mouth dropped in surprise at her friend’s remark. “I need to get you buzzed more often! I am so happy you have decided to move back here, I have missed you!”

“Aww! Ains! I have missed you too!” Addy pulled her friend into a quick hug before they both turned their attention back to the screen.

“How insane is it that your boyfriend is on television right now, let alone the fact that he is a prince!” Ainsley shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Like who would have thought that little Adalyn would bag a prince?” She managed to spit out while chomping down a mouthful of popcorn.

“I know… it’s still unbelievable to me sometimes.” Addy crossed her legs rubbing them down soothingly. “Like when I wake up in the middle of the night and he is fast asleep, sometimes I just wonder how everything got to that point.” Sighing she glanced over towards Ainsley wanting to let her in on a little secret.

“I told Harry I loved him…”

Ainsley’s brown eyes grew to the size of golf balls in shock. Popcorn fell from her hand back into the bowl as she stared at Adalyn surprised to hear those words come out of Addy’s mouth.

“Omg! You what?!” Ainsley remained silent. “You LOVE HIM?!”

“Yes… I do.” Adalyn happily answered her question, biting her lip in anticipation wondering what was going in Ainsley’s mind. Angling her body Ainsley set down the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and gently grabbed Adalyn’s hand squeezing it hard.

“I am so so happy for you Addy!” Ainsley squealed at the thought of her friend finally finding someone who would love her back equally. “At first, I know I was cautious of Harry, only because I was concerned for you… but now you are always smiling and giddy and I know that I owe that to Harry for making you so happy Adds.”

Ainsley pulled her into a tight warm embrace as their bodies swayed back and forth. “Now, tell me all the deets girl! Including how you met the future king of England!”

Harry’s POV

Harry had arrived early before the ceremony to greet the winners and have a one on one chat with their family. He always left the night in awe and inspired by the selflessness of the children and their will to fight with such bravery. Tonight was about them and he prided himself with making it just that as he focused on each winner and their family.

The prince had walked up to a little blond girl wearing a princess dress he had noticed from the movie frozen. The little girl was beaming up at him so he crouched down to get on her level. Harry could not help but smile as the little girl was staring at him in awe.

“Are you a real prince?” The little girl swayed back and forth while sheepishly glancing up at him.

“I guess I am, do I not look like one? What is your name princess?” Harry let out a small giggle as he looked up at her mom standing behind her.

“I am Celina!” She grabbed her dress and spun around in a circle. “Do you like my dress? Wait?! Where is your crown? You cannot be a prince without a crown?!” Celina stepped forward to tap the top of the prince’s head.

Holding his belly while the prince barked a laugh he sighed heavily to catch his breath. “You are a smart one aren’t you Celina! The Queen said I could not wear it tonight, that I may lose it!”

After a few minutes of talking with Celina and her family Harry moved down to another eager family with a small boy in a wheel chair. Harry shook the mother’s hand before noticing a young girl hiding behind her mother’s dress clinging tightly to her arm. He could see the resemblance to the young boy in the wheel chair indicating that it was his sister, which he soon learned that she was the award winner of the night.

“Ava has been very excited to meet you your highness.” Her mother beamed proudly angling her body to allow her daughter to step forward. Ava was playing with her ponytail when she waved at the prince shyly.

“Hello Ava, I am sure your brother is very proud of you tonight for being such a great help and friend to him.” Harry got down on both knees hoping that he would seem less scary to the little girl.

“Mmmhhmm.” Ava bit down on her lip nervously before walking up bravely to the prince. “I drew a picture!” The little girl handed him a drawing of her family at the Well Child awards with her holding a rather large trophy that made the prince chuckle at her imagination.

“Thank you Ava, I believe I have room for it on my fridge!” Harry admired it again.

“It’s not for you!” Ava tossed her head back laughing, making the prince display a confusing look. “It’s for your girlfriend silly!”

The press behind him dissolved into a fit of giggles noticing the prince’s shocked expression putting him in a tough predicament. He had yet to verbally acknowledge the fact that Adalyn was indeed his girlfriend despite the constant media coverage and pictures confirming it. Harry glanced behind his shoulder to Luther who shrugged his shoulders having no idea what to say at this point.

“I met her at the art place. She took my picture and hung it up for everyone to see there!” Ava gestured with her hands while the prince remained silent thinking of how to go about it as this young girl had caught him off guard. “I want her to put this picture up beside it too!” Ava smiled widely not having a clue of the predicament she had put the prince in.

“Can I tell you a secret Ava?” Harry motioned the little girl to come closer to him wanting to whisper his response so the press would not receive what they were all hoping for tonight, confirmation of his relationship to Adalyn.

“Yes!” She whispered quiet loudly in his ear.

Harry cupped his hand so his lips could not be read. “I promise to give this to my girlfriend if you can keep a secret ok?” He leaned back for a moment to watch her nod with a grin, excited that an adult trusted her with a big secret. `

“These people behind me don’t know that she is secretly my princess so we can’t tell anyone or she can’t work at the art place anymore. Ok? They are going to ask you what I told you, but it’s our little secret ok? I promise to give this to her.”

Ava nodded eagerly excited that an adult trusted her with such a big secret. “I will! Tell her she is very nice and beauuutiful!” She whispered back in return.

Harry tossed his head back in laughter silently agreeing with Ava. Releasing a sigh Harry stood up wishing them a lovely evening.

Luther walked up beside the prince as the press immediately closed in on the little girl asking what Harry had whispered to her. Harry glanced back over her shoulder hearing Ava tell them that it was a secret. Smiling he gave her a quick thumbs up before exiting the room to be escorted to his seat.

“That was a close one.” Harry whipped his brow.

Addy’s POV

“Oh my god it’s her!” Addy pointed at the screen. “The little blonde girl from the museum.”

Addy fell into an uncomfortable silence fidgeting in her seat as she heard what Ava had told Harry. Waiting impatiently for his response, Addy could tell that she had caught Harry off guard.

“He is going to spill it all!” Ainsley chuckled loudly beside her. “Saying how much he looooves you!” Addy grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at her friend.

She finally was able to relax when Harry had whispered his response in the little girls ear, making the press upset that he did not respond loud enough for them to hear. What were the coincidences that Ava would show up in both of their lives?

A few minutes later Addy’s phone buzzed receiving a text from Harry.

That was a close one… but I have a picture for you from your little friend. Apparently I am not important enough to get one xx

I had no idea she was going to be there Harry. Did I forget to tell you how sexy you are in that suit? I want to rip it off of you!

Have you been drinking? Cause I will definitely come over and let you! Oh and by the way Ava wanted me to tell you that you are very nice and quite beautiful! Which I cannot agree more babe xx Gotta go, ceremonies starting muah

Harry leaned up against her bathroom door frame raising his eyebrow at Adalyn slowly shaking her body while humming a song. Addy was focusing on putting on her make up, not noticing his presence which gave Harry the opportunity to take in the view.

She was wearing a little black dress that accentuated everything in the right parts with hints of revealing skin that was delicately covered in lace. How did I get so lucky? Harry thought to himself. Tonight they were heading out to Mahiki, a club owned by his friend Guy to meet up with his friends for an evening out of drinks and dancing.

The couple had never actually been to a club together before, as they tended to keep things low key, having nights in where they enjoyed cooking together or a Netflix cuddling marathon. It was easier for them that way to keep the press out of their lives. Harry wanted to take her out for a night out and just have fun with his girl.

“Hey sexy.”

Addy’s head flashed towards the sound of his voice lighting up with a smile. Harry gave her a wink following a smug smile as he stepped behind her. His hand glided against the soft silky material of her dress landing on the small of her back.

“Hi Henry.” Adalyn angled her head pressing her lips firmly against his. “Did Ainsley let you in?” She asked while Harry wrapped his arms around her resting his chin on her shoulder with a smile.

“Uh huh. You look so sexy babe, ready to go dancing with me?” He kissed down her neck landing on the soft skin over her collarbone.

“If you keep kissing me like that Harry, I won’t be ready in time!” Addy tossed her head back in laughter resting it on his chest while Harry continued to attack her neck in a series of endless kisses.

“We can be late.” Harry swivelled her body around to face him giving her a suggestive glance.

“Harry!!” Addy squealed loudly. Gripping the prince firmly while he lifted her up on the counter of her bathroom.

“Ok… ok. We can be a little late.” There was no way that she could resist Harry in that moment falling under the spell of his soft kisses that sweetly burned her skin.

Harry guided Adalyn to the VIP area of Mahiki spotting his friends already waiting for them having been a half hour late. Adalyn hand rubbed down his arm making the prince glance down at her. He could tell that she was nervous as more eyes landed on them as they made their way to their friends.

“You belong here Addy, just have fun.” Harry reassured her with a kiss to her temple as he proudly held her hand leading her through the people.

“Harry!” Guy was the first to spot the couple.

“Hey guys!” Harry chuckled as he was quickly separated from Addy when Melissa, Adriana and Zoe completely dismissed him to greet his girlfriend. Tossing his hands up in the air in question, Harry raised his eyebrow.

“Sorry Harry, Adalyn has replaced you!” Melissa made the group erupt into laughter.

“Come sit with us girls Addy!” Adriana grabbed her hand pulling Addy towards their spot. “So?! How was meeting Will and Kate?”

Harry leaned in to interrupt before Addy could answer their question. “What do you want to drink babe? Cranberry vodka?” He knew her drink order by heart. It was either cranberry vodka or a mango margarita.

“Cranberry vodka babe.” Addy hollered up at him with her green eyes smiling.

The loud music vibrating through the venue made conversation difficult as Addy leaned in close to Mel and Zoe telling the girls about how Harry met her family. Harry was quick to return with her drink and a round of tequila shots for the group.

“Why were you guys so late?” Melissa questioned as her eyes swiveled towards Harry giving him a naughty look.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” A crooked smirk graced his lips giving Addy a wink noticing her faintly blushing.

Addy jumped in beside Harry having returned from dancing with the girls for a few songs. She was happily buzzed as she leaned into the prince wanting to check in with him.

“Having a good time love?” His breath smelled of a combination of beer and whiskey as he leant down to place a kiss on her lips that earned hollers from their nearby friends.

Burying her head into his neck Adalyn dissolved into a fit of giggles. Sensing Harry’s hand stroking her bare leg she covered his hand intertwining their fingers. “Come dance with me…” Addy held his eyes hostage tuning out the loud music making the world around them cease to exist in that moment.

“I’d love to.” Harry lips spread into a natural smile seeing the light in her eyes dance.

“Really?” She was unsure whether the prince would take the chance knowing it was a possibility that it would be photographed. All she wanted was to feel his body against hers dancing to the beat of the music without a care in the world. They needed this night to de stress from all of the weeks work and commitments that forced them to be apart. With Harry leaving for his tour early next week, she wanted to take all the time she was given with him.

Before Addy knew it she was being led to the dance floor by Harry guiding her through the people moving their bodies around them. Harry pulled her body flush against his, feeling the hot breath drift across her cheek his frame towering over her protectively.

The beat was strong as they fell into tune, freeing their bodies to commit to the song that vibrated through the people. Harry’s hand was always in contact with her body, gliding across her dress down to her hips that she swayed rhythmically. Their bodies became flush pressed against each other moving in sync causing Addy’s breath to become ragged and short to the point of breathlessness.

The people around them danced as lights from up above speckled the dance floor giving glimpses of their deliberate movements. Addy felt the warmth between them growing more powerful as Harry’s hands traveled around her body, exploring it while the bass thumped through their bodies hearing only their jagged inhales attempting to catch their breath.

Harry gently moved the hair off of her neck allowing his lips to brush across her flesh barely making contact that caused a moan to escape her lips at the simple yet profound touch. She was melting into him, from every touch, every movement she was held captive by Harry as he controlled her body with his firm hands.

“You are so sexy Addy…” His deep voice nearly weakened her knees stumbling into his protective arms he wrapped them around her securely. Grinding her ass back into him she giggled hearing a low groan escape his lips.

“You are pushing it Addy. Be careful, I might just take you right here on this dance floor.” Harry warned her, but that only caused the brunette to tease him more with her body. Having difficulty keeping composure, Harry spun his girlfriend around to face him.

Gasping at the unexpected move, Addy’s hand flew to his chest locking lust filled eyes with the prince. Their bodies slowed down despite the fast pace of the beat. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb smoothly running over the soft skin leaving a fiery sensation in its wake.

Addy had to concentrate on breathing feeling dizzy under his touch. His gaze never wavered from hers seeing the reflecting lights dancing in his eyes.

“God I love you…” Harry spoke with ease. Watching Addy lips spread into a grin he couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t ever stop.” Addy pressed her forehead against his making her lips near inches from the prince’s. Time slowed down as Harry dared himself not to kiss Adalyn, thinking that he would not be able to stop devouring her lips. The alcohol clouded his judgment as he tasted her succulent lips in a crowd full of people, but he no longer cared anymore, he just wanted to kiss her.

Closing her eyes Addy wrapped her hand around Harry’s neck pulling him down firmly on top of her lips begging for him to not stop. Even though the vodka clearly fuelled her actions she could not stop herself from wanting more.

Capturing her moans Harry continued his gentle assault on her lips, opening his eyes briefly to see if anyone was watching them knowing fully they were taking a major risk. Thankfully no one had even realized that the couple had stopped dancing as everyone around them continued to move in their own way fueled in a haze of alcohol and dancing bodies.

The song ended along with their make out session as Addy was the first one to break her lips off of the prince. Smiling shyly Addy giggled wrapping an arm around the prince as he displayed a guilty smirk.

“Wanna go back?” Harry questioned hoping that his girlfriend would want to dance some more. Shaking her head no Addy smiled up at him.

“Let’s have fun. That is why we came out tonight anyway right? Let’s let loose tonight.” Harry did not need anymore convincing after that as he swung his girlfriend in his arms before showing off his ridiculous dance moves. Soon enough their friends joined them as they danced well into the night laughing at each other’s moves but also having the time of their life.

“I will get this round!” Addy hollered waving off her friends to go sit back down with their boyfriends.

Addy walked up to the bar leaning over the counter waiting patiently for the next available bar tender. Digging out her purse she felt a hand travel down her back towards her ass. Smiling she thought it was Harry being a little too touchy feely in public, but something she didn’t mind tonight. “What are you drinking gorgeous?” An unfamiliar male voice caused her body to stiffen. It clearly was not Harry. A man that was NOT Harry had his hand on her ass. Addy looked up at the male quickly brushing his hand off of her. “I am fine thank you.” She rolled her eyes at him before ordering a round of shots for the table. Harry’s POV “Where’s Addy?” Harry asked the women who had came back from dancing without her. “She went to the bar to order a round!” Zoey danced her way into the seat beside Jake planting a kiss on his lips. His eyes immediately darted towards the bar seeing a man walk up beside his girlfriend. Harry took a sip of his beer keeping an eye on Addy to make sure she got back to their spot alright. Nearly choking on his beer Harry saw the man’s hand travel down her back landing on his girlfriend’s ass. Thomas looked beside him seeing Harry’s eyes glaring ahead of him as he aligned his view with the prince. “Oh shit.” Thomas spoke knowing how protective and well also jealous Harry could be at times. “Mate!” Thomas placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “She’s fine. Addy can take care of herself. Don’t go and start something stu –” Before Tom could finish his sentence Harry had left his seat walking hastily towards Adalyn. “Oh fuck.” Tom tossed his head back hoping that this would end ok. Adalyn’s POV “Come on sexy. Let me buy you a drink.” The brunette man leant down to her level his hand traveling back to where she pushed him off of, but this time giving her ass a firm squeeze. “Or we could just head back to my place.” “I suggest you get your hands off of my girlfriend.” Closing her eyes Adalyn recognized that deep posh voice. Henry had surely gotten an eye full of the whole thing and had come to intervene. The man scoffed a laugh at Harry knowing that it would only make Harry angrier. “Well we could always share her.” The man taunted the prince who fists were balled up in rage. “Get the fuck away from her now! Or I swear to god I will break each one of your fingers.” Harry’s terrifying voice sent a river of chills down her spine. Turning around slowly Adalyn took a step towards the prince pushing the man’s arm off of her. “Let’s go babe…” She placed a hand on his chest while the other blindly searched for his hand. “He isn’t worth it Harry…” Addy could see the anger floating in his eyes. “I am fine now Henry.” Addy pushed him on his back foot making him takes step backwards away from the man knowing that if he were provoked any further that it could end badly. Her green eyes scanned the upper level for Luther and Aaron, Harry’s RPOs tonight. Spotting them further down Addy waved Luther over, not being able to make Harry leave the bar. “Do not ever come near her again. You hear me?” Harry felt a strong arm pull him away looking back to see Luther towering over Harry while Aaron stepped in between the man creating more space between them. “Harry….I think it’s best we call it a night.” Luther’s eyes drifted towards Addy wanting to convince her boyfriend that now was the time to leave. “I’m getting tired Henry, can we go back home?” She tried her best to convince him, placing a small kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go say bye…”

“You could try and go out the back way, there would be less of them there.” Guy tried to help the prince devise a plan to leave the club. The word had gotten out that Harry and Addy were there and the paparazzi had gathered in hopes to snap a picture of them together.

Holding tightly onto Addy’s hand Harry felt a light squeeze turning his attention to Adalyn seeing her bright green eyes staring up at him. “What are we going to do Harry?”

“I am going to go out with Aaron and you stay with Luther and once I leave you go out the back, they will all rush to the front hoping you are with me.” Harry’s eyes lifted to Luther that gave him a nod to understand the plan.

“What if that doesn’t work Harry.” Thomas piped in. “You know it hasn’t before.”

Adalyn closed her eyes sensing Harry’s body become tense at his friend’s remark. She knew that he was trying his hardest to protect her from the press, but the only way she would feel the safest was to be with him. Addy tugged on Harry’s arm pulling him away from the group that were devising a plan for their exit from Mahiki.

“It will be fine babe.” Harry tried to reassure Addy, but noticed how she would not look at him. “What’s wrong?” He brushed a stray piece of brunette hair off of her face tucking it behind her ear.

“Let’s go out the back together…” Harry pressed his lips in a firm line not thrilled at what she just suggested. “Hear me out ok?” She glanced up at the prince with a softened gaze.

“I know you are trying to protect me from them Henry… and you have. But you know I feel the safest when I am with you. We promised ourselves that we would get through all of this together, so we are doing this, right here right now… together.” Addy squeezed his hand lightly hoping that she had convinced him.

“Addy….” He drug out her name not needing his girlfriend to be stubborn with him right now. “They will be there.”

“I know and I don’t like it anymore than you do, but you won’t be with me if you send me out there and for all we know its not that far from the back and I would have to walk farther to the car. I know Tom and Mel will look out for me, but…”

“You want me.” Harry finished her thought understanding where she was coming from. Releasing an exasperated breath Harry nodded his head. Neither plan did he think was a good idea, but there were not that many options and if it meant that he knew that she was safe and would feel that way, Harry had no choice.

Sighing he shook his head with a light laugh. “Ok stubborn woman. You are coming with me out the back, straight to the car.” Harry stepped in closer to her giving Addy more direction of how things would work.

“Do not let go of my hand. Keep your head down and watch your step, the cameras tend to be blinding.” Addy tightened her fingers around Harry’s.

“I won’t ever let go.” She smiled up at him, capturing his lips one last time.

Luther stood with his back towards the back door looking down at the couple behind him. “You guys ready?” Luther held his gaze on Adalyn watching the uncertainty dance across her face while she nodded her reply.

Harry squeezed her hand a few times turning his head back and whispering. “You ready love?”

“Take me home Henry.”

With that Luther opened the door leading the couple out the back entrance of Mahiki. Swarms of press were waiting for them as they hollered at the couple holding hands walking through the door.

“Harry! Adalyn!”

“Adalyn what is it like to be the next royal girlfriend?”

Harry tightened his grip firmly around her hand, his way of protecting Addy to ensure she was following in behind him. He tried his best to shield the onslaught of blinding cameras with his body as he led them to the awaiting car.

Adalyn held a vice grip onto the prince’s hand carefully ensuring each step as to not fall and embarrass herself. Her name was begin called from every angle deliberately asking her questions to illicit some sort of reaction from her, a daily occurrence that she had become accustomed to outside of her work.

“Can we get a smile Adalyn!”

“Look this way!”

“When will you two become engaged?!”

The paparazzi continued to hound them as Harry reached for the door handle telling Luther to get in the drivers side to be able to leave quickly. Harry glanced up at the press being blinded by a continual blur of flashing lights. He knew that tomorrow morning there would undoubtedly be pictures of them confirming the rumors that they were officially a couple.

“Get in love.” Harry guided her close to him, signaling for her to slip into the back seat first. Addy could not hide the smile creeping up on her lips seeing how he protectively stood between her and the press ensuring her safety.

Climbing into the back seat she scooted over to allow Harry to join her. Hearing the door slam shut muffled the sounds of the paparazzi yelling at them. Addy sighed a breath of relief thankful that they had made it through.

“You good Addy?” Harry was quick to check in with her knowing how difficult it would have been for her, but glad that they faced it together like she had suggested.

“Yes Henry.”

A small group of the paparazzi broke off around and came running up to the side of the car. A hand slapped against the side window where Addy was causing her to gasp loudly in freight as she nearly jumped in her seat at the invasion. They were yelling at her and tapping the window to get Addy to look at them.

Harry glared at them as he pulled Adalyn close to his body trying to cover her face from the series of blinding pictures. “GO LUTHER NOW!” Harry yelled at his protection officer.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you.” He held her trembling body in his arms as they drove away back to Kensington Palace.

THE END! Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays to you all! I will try my best to update if I can but most likely this will be the last chapter of 2017!

Here are the pictures for the article that will be posted at a later date:

#royalfanficcentral #prince harry #phff #prince harry fanfiction #prince harry fanfic #chapters #chapter37 #harryandaddy #littlebitofeverythingphff

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itsworn · 6 years ago

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Gasser Wars Veteran Del Wiesner Is Still Wheels-Up in His Olds-Powered 1933 Willys

In the early 1960s, Del Wiesner and Dean Seevers were a couple of guys from Loveland, Colorado, who built a ’33 Willys to drag race. It wasn’t long before they and another partner, fellow Loveland racer Harold Owens, found themselves in the thick of the Gasser Wars.

The trio spent several years on the circuit, towing their Olds-powered coupe all over the country to race the likes of Doug Cook, K.S. Pittman, Bones Balogh, George Montgomery, and other warriors of the era. Some weekends were spent match racing at local events, others put them in the national spotlight with fellow A/GS competitors in the NHRA. At their peak, e.t.’s were in the low 10s with trap speeds over 140 mph. In 1964, carrying 400 pounds of ballast to compete in B/Modified Gas, the Seevers/Wiesner/Owens Willys held the AHRA record at 136 mph.

Del Wiesner’s tribute to his Gasser Wars days is no static display. He built the new Seevers/Wiesner/Owens ’33 Willys to be legal for nostalgia racing. “About quickest that car has gone is 5.70 at 118 to 120 miles per hour in the eighth-mile.”

Fifty-plus years later, the Seevers/Wiesner/Owens A/Gas Supercharged ’33 Willys is still pleasing the crowds, albeit in an updated version. “People really love seeing the car. That’s what keeps me going,” Del says. “They love it because it has an Olds Rocket engine in it. That’s not something you see all the time, much less the original owner and driver in it.”

Asked about racing today, Del says, “I do still love it, but I look at it different now. I’ve been in some bad wrecks. I about wrecked this thing at a nostalgia event a year or so ago. I’d hate to wreck it now, so late in life. And I made a promise to my wife that I wouldn’t drive it so fast. So rather than running 8 seconds at 155, I’m content to go 115 in the eighth at 5.70, which is what it will run on a good track. That’s plenty of thrill for this old feller.”

Del will be 80 on his next birthday.

Pic: Bob D’Olivo Comparing the tribute to this photo Bob D’Olivo took at the 1964 Winternationals illustrates how closely Del replicated his old Willys. Dean Seevers was driving here; Del drove at the 1964 NHRA Nationals and wheeled the car from then on.

1962

Dean Seevers had a “wild” ’39 Chevy coupe with a blown Olds motor that he drove on the street and raced at the drags as the 1960s dawned. Dean, Del, and Harold Owens were founding members of the local hot rod club, the Loveland Zephyrs, and part of a group of guys who raced in NHRA Division 5.

When they built the Willys, Dean and Del put in it a ’57 Olds mill with a 4-71 supercharger backed by a B&M Hydro. The Willys hit the track in 1962, running “around 120 in the 11s,” Del says. “We won a lot of trophies at all the tracks in Division 5.”

Harold mustered out of the Air Force a year later, and he wanted to join the team. He had an engine he wanted to build. “It was his baby motor, a ’49 Olds Rocket at 303 cubic inches,” says Del. When it was done, it displaced 308 inches and was fed by a 6-71 blower and Scott fuel injection. The “itty-bitty engine” put the Willys into B/Gas Supercharged.

Dean Seevers poses with his hot ’39 Chevy in the early 1960s. Olds powered, it ran hard at the strip.

“We went out to Pomona racing some of the biggest names in the country,” Del says of their trip to the 1963 Winternationals. The three friends from Loveland ran “131 miles per hour at 10.75, and we didn’t have to apologize to anyone for anything.”

What they did have to do, though, was be quicker. Doug Cook, running 10.60s, beat them in Pomona.

So in the winter of 1963, the Willys went on a diet. The steel front end was replaced with a liftoff fiberglass nose. The factory doors with their glass windows were pitched in favor of fiberglass doors with Plexiglas. Out, too, was the baby Olds. In went a 324-inch Olds motor bored and stroked to 396 ci. Lighter and more powerful, and with a new Dean Kennedy Hydro, the Willys showed “a dramatic improvement in e.t.,” remembers Del. Times dropped to the low 10s, and speeds increased to 140-145 mph. The Willys’ appearance in 1964, with the Seevers/Wiesner/Owens lettering and the assigned number 239, was the template for the tribute Willys, as that was the last year the trio raced as a team.

Dean and Del’s Willys in 1962, when a ’57 Olds engine earned them “a lot of trophies” in NHRA’s Division 5.

“Dean decided he wanted to build one of those Mark Williams dragsters, and he wanted to put his Olds in the dragster,” Del says. “So he went his separate way. That left Harold and me to run the Willys.”

By 1966, Del had moved on, too. He and Harold built a “super light” ’23 T roadster with an Olds capable of sending the car to 150-plus top-end speeds. But the car “nearly killed” him in a bad accident that ended his racing days.

“I still have the scars,” he says.

Pic: Randy Holt At the 1963 Winternationals, the Seevers/Wiesner Willys beat the Mallicoat Bros. ’41 Willys in the first round of B/GS, but lost to Doug Cook in the next. They were using Harold Owens’ “baby” Olds mill.

2008

Scars, and memories, too. “I had two wonderful partners in this car back in the day. In 1964, we did the entire NHRA Division 5, in the points chase right up to the end. We ran every event: Omaha, Minneapolis, Great Bend, Continental Divide, Green Valley Raceway in Texas, Amarillo, plus the Winternationals in Pomona and the U.S. Nationals in Indianapolis. It wasn’t unusual for us to be in L.A., then Minneapolis, then Texas. We flat-towed this car all over the country until we finally got a trailer.”

Decades later, “I couldn’t shake the thrill the race car had given me. Even though I had quit racing long ago, I always loved the Willys gassers. Once you get that in your blood, it’s hard to let go. It was the most exciting time of my life, so I decided to rebuild a part of history.”

He considered another go-around with the original car. “I found the original ’33. Someone had converted it to a street machine with a Chevrolet engine. I called, but once they found out about the history of their car, they decided they didn’t want to sell it.”

The Willys went through major changes before the 1964 season. That’s Del lifting off the car’s new fiberglass nose in the pits at Pomona, and the little motor was replaced by a 396-inch Olds. Del called the improvements to the car’s performance “dramatic.”

He opted instead to build a Willys from scratch, with a fabricated chassis and cage, a fiberglass repop body, and the help of a young car builder named Bobby Anderson, who runs Sleds Customs in Apache Junction, Colorado. Bobby modified the frame for the Willys using 2×4 rectangular tubing, and mounted a straight front axle from Speedway Motors and a Ford 9-inch rearend. Within the 10-point polished cage are aluminum seats Bobby fabricated after the fiberglass racing seats Del bought for the project “were thrown in the junk pile,” Del says.

They weren’t the only pieces that didn’t pass muster. Much of the fiberglass Willys body Del bought was either “too heavy or poorly done,” so Bobby fashioned a rear decklid, dashboard, floors, fenderwells, and other parts from aluminum.

The engine had to be an Oldsmobile. “I have a number of blocks,” Del says, preferring those out of a ’62 Starfire. “The 394-inch Olds motors were made from 1959 to 1964, and the blocks from the ’62 Starfire have a unique configuration compared to the other engines. They have a wider main bearing boss, so you could run a heavier-duty main bearing. It’s the strongest 394 Olds block.”

Pic: Eric Rickman Del remembers this round of the 1964 Winternats well. Dean went up against Bones Balogh driving Big John Mazmanian’s Willys. “We were out on Bones by three car lengths when we broke a rocker arm. We ran a 10.34, but Bones ran the first 9.99, at 151 miles per hour, in supercharged class history and beat us in the lights.”

Del built two different engine combinations for the Willys. One has a stock crank with steel billet Crower rods and 8:1 compression pistons. The other, his “quickest engine,” has 9:1 compression and aluminum rods. “I went to the aluminum rods so I could use a pinned rod bearing to keep the rod bearings in place. The steel rods had a tendency to tear the tangs off the ends of the rod caps. Pinned bearings eliminated that problem, but it means a trick crank situation. The crank is undersize 300-thousandths—that’s a lot—then resized to use Chevrolet main bearings. That’s a unique situation for an Olds to have that.”

As Gasser Wars veterans, Del and Howard were used to being courted by camshaft makers. “Several companies gave us camshafts back then.” Jack Engle ground cams for the SWO Willys, and 50 years later, Del again went to Jack, even after the cam maker had retired, for grinds for the tribute car. But with two engines in play, Del also uses a billet Isky 505-C roller cam in his other engine.

Dean left the team after the 1964 season, so the SWO Willys became the Wiesner/Owens car in 1965. Here Del is racing at Mickey Thompson’s invitational 200 MPH meet in Fontana. “We drew K.S. Pittman in the first round and got beat, but we were allowed to grudge race the other A/GS cars the rest of the evening between rounds of Top Fuel and A/GS. Our top time was a 10 flat e.t. at 146.69 miles per hour.”

“I like both cams,” he says. “Both those manufacturers treated us really well. The Engle definitely has more lift. It’s a more modern camshaft. The 505-C is like it was ground in 1960. I bought a pair of them unused at the Bakersfield swap meet. It has 100-thousandths less lift than the Engle, but I can make the car run just as hard for the first 300 to 400 feet as with the big cam. That’s what I do with the car, run hard out of the hole to give them the show.

“People come out to see cars drive up to the starting line and carry the front end for 100 feet. That’s the show, right there. I don’t run the car at top speed any more. These aren’t real stable at 150-plus.”

With some concessions to NHRA regulations, Del worked to keep the outside of the engine “looking like it was running the old stuff, nostalgia stuff.” Feeding the fire is a vintage Hilborn two-port fuel-injection system “that’s probably from the early 1960s,” says Del. Igniting the fire is a Joe Hunt Vertex magneto.

The start of the SWO tribute. Bobby Anderson fabricated the frame out of 2×4 rectangular tubing, “much stronger and less flexible” than the original Willys frame, says Del. The straight axle “is probably four times heavier than in the 1960s car, because we weren’t as concerned with weight as getting the right look for the new car.”

The headers, too, with their distinctive wraparound collectors, were built by Bobby to mimic the pipes on the SWO Willys. “At the time it was a convenient way to pull the tubes together, and it looked neat on the weed burners,” Del explains.

Another carryover from the original Willys is the tribute car’s shifter, which is on the column. “We always ran a column shifter on them, even though everyone else had it on the floor. In the old days we’d run a Powerglide shifter, a ’53 or ’54 column shifter, but you can’t race one of those anymore since there’s no reverse lockout on them.”

Del admits it “took a lot of work” to graft the B&M ratchet shifter onto the column. “It was a lot harder than putting it on the floor. Everything is handbuilt around the shifter.”

The Ford 9-inch is filled with 35-spline Moser axles, 4.56 gears, and a spool. The ladder bars here are mockups; the finished versions were machined from billet aluminum stock. “They’re probably 50, 52 inches long, go about halfway up to the front of the car,” Del says.

In the 1960s, the B&M Hydro was the transmission of choice for the SWO Willys as well as many of the other gasser teams. It wasn’t Del’s favorite, though. “I’m not a Hydramatic guy. We ran them back in the day, because that was the transmission to race. Everyone ran them until people started using the Chrysler TorqueFlites. But we had a lot of trouble with the Hydros. We lost races because of transmission problems.”

The tribute Willys, too, started with a Hydramatic, but Harold Owens had another idea. “Harold was running a Hughes Performance Powerglide in his dragster, and he recommended it. So I went with it. It matched up to the early Oldsmobile and works slick.”

The cage is certified to just an 8.50 e.t. “because of the way we built the bar in the driver’s side of the cage. It will hinge to let me in.”

Both of Del’s former partners are still around. “Dean Seevers, the top engine man and driver, is very ill, but Dean and Harold Owens are my biggest supporters of the car. When I started, I was the gopher guy, the polish guy. I painted the original A/Gas Supercharged car and kept it looking great. But then I started driving in mid-1964, so I got to run Doug Cook a number of times, Bones, K.S. Pittman, Chuck Finders, and the big-name racers.”

Re-creating the Willys that meant so much to him took a full five years. “It was a challenge, largely because all the parts we needed are now considered antiques.” But with Bobby Anderson’s help, Del now enjoys running and showing his tribute Willys for “all the past drivers, owners, and fans who truly loved these kinds of cars.”

The Willys being mocked up. During its construction, several body parts—the rear decklid, firewall, inner fenders—were “put on the junk pile” because they were either too heavy or poorly made, Del says. Bobby fabbed aluminum replacements for those parts.

The firewall and dash were among the pieces Bobby made from scratch for the Willys. “He’s quite a sheetmetal worker,” Del says of Bobby.

The engines Del uses in the Willys are ’62 Olds Starfire blocks bored 0.030 over and fitted with number 23 cylinder heads from 1963-1964 Olds 394s. Dave Sarno of SCH Racing Heads in Arvada, Colorado, “is my head guy,” Del says. “They aren’t ported or relieved as extremely as they were in the 1960s, since Dave says the extreme polishing we used to do doesn’t make that much difference. But deep pockets work.”

Topping the 6-71 blower is a two-port Hilborn injection system that Del modified to accept a four-port scoop. “I wanted more volume going to the injector,” he says. “The two-port scoop has considerably less frontal area than the four-port scoop.” So he fashioned an adapter to join the two.

Mad Mike the Striper out of Greeley, Colorado, lettered the original Willys. “When I rebuilt the car I contacted him. He’s still in business in Denver,” Del says. “He did a lot of signs and posters for the car, stuff like that, gratis.” Mike did not letter the new car, though. Del and Bobby took photos of the original Willys to a sign shop, “and he did the cutouts, like vinyl letters. But we didn’t want the lettering—we wanted what was left over, to use as a stencil to paint the lettering on the car.” Bobby then applied the graphics.

More of Bobby’s handiwork is found inside the Willys, where he fashioned the floors, the seats, the dashboard, the cage, and more.

The toughest part of the interior build was getting the B&M ratchet shifter up on the steering column, Del says. The eagle-eyed among you will spot two tachometers in the car, an original Sun tach in the dash and a new Auto Meter tach on the column. Del wanted “something bigger” than the Sun tach for racing. Plus, “I never had much luck getting a Sun tach to work with a magneto.”

“I got to know Marv Rifchin, from M&H Tire, late in life. I didn’t know him from the 1960s, but I got to know him later. He was such a gentleman, so that’s what I have on the car. That’s all I’ll run because of that.”

“Bobby [Anderson, right] did the painting on car. He does it all, the little sh*t. I knew him when he was just 4 years old. People ask, ‘Who did the work?’ That young guy, he did it. He does it all.”

“Sometimes the front end is off the ground, sometimes it’s rubbing against the wall. I never know which direction it’s going to go, but the crowd loves it.”

The post Gasser Wars Veteran Del Wiesner Is Still Wheels-Up in His Olds-Powered 1933 Willys appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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