#Window Shutters Lewes

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Damage Gets Done - SAS Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 7

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |-| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Summary: As L Detachment is granted leave in the wake of Jock Lewes' death, more of Diana's personal life comes to light, and her friendship with Reg is cemented more than ever

Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC

Warnings: Language, drunkenness, violence

Word Count: 5.2k (Got a bit carried away with this one)

Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl @trenchenjoyer @dcyllom @footprintsinthesxnd

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates! Anyone who's been to university knows November is ROUGH and I honestly had zero time to write until now, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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"We're all down right now - give it time, give them time, let them get some rest. We'll bounce back soon enough."

David Stirling would never admit how desperate a bid it had been when he first gave the order for the men of L Detachment to disperse - to take some time away from the bleak desert wasteland and dwell amongst the living for a while, to see what Cairo had to offer and wash the taste of grief from their tongues. The loss of Jock Lewes had hit every single one of them in a variety of ways, the stagnation of death hanging thick in the air at Jalo, and it seemed they were hanging on by a thread. They could only live at half mast for so long before something went wrong, before they lost someone else too.

And so he had sent them packing - dispelled the group with the distribution of their uniform, and L Detachment had been allowed to descend on the streets of Egypt's capital. He almost pitied the rest of the city, but from high up in his apartment, Eve resting comfortably in his arms, he found he couldn't quite give a shit about what the rest of them were getting up to.

The Cairo sunshine was beating down on Diana Fayed's scalp as she made her practised way through the city streets, a stack of bangles jangling on one wrist, an antique watch ticking away on the other. A cigarette hung from between her lips, a long stump of ashes building up on its tip as she wove through the bustling crowds, narrowly avoiding a few stray Brits and carefully dodging the street vendors she had come to know as the most persistent. It was a hub of life, and she knew its walkways like the back of her hand, each step so rehearsed she scarcely had to think, years of repetition ingrained in her very bones.

It was this intimate knowledge of the place that made it so easy to tell when something was off. Which was why the din of a brawl down a nearby alley made her ear prick as she passed, pausing to stomp out her cigarette against the pavement.

The alley in question was usually quiet, especially during the day, its path better trodden at night when the brothels on either side were most active. Shuttered windows, often used to lure in customers from the street below, had been bolted tightly shut, the inhabitants of the two establishments decidedly ignorant of whatever was going on outside. In cities such as these, people perfected the art of minding their business very quickly.

Dian leant her shoulder up against the brick arch that lined the entryway, peering through the rabble as the uniformed men scrapped and beat each other senselessly, and she fought to suppress a sigh at the familiar-looking berets she spotted in the crowd.

Only had the uniform for a day, and already they're showing us up.

As the chair in Fraser's hands collided swiftly with the back of another soldier's head, she winced, beginning to rather enjoy the spectacle as it went on. Here in Cairo, she wore no uniform - here in Cairo, she didn't have to worry about being associated with this band of beloved morons. Bill's decisive blow seemed to end the squabbling, and a moment of stillness almost had a chance to descend upon the group before the far-off sound of the MP's whistle shattered any illusion that this was over, that there might not be a consequence for their actions this time.

There wouldn't be if she could help it.

Roughly shouldering past a confused-looking soldier, necklace bouncing against her chest with each forceful step, Diana raised her fingers to her lips, filling the absence of a cigarette, and released a sharp whistle. The sudden sound drew the attention of every man in the alley, alarmed expressions of recognition spreading across the faces of her comrades.

"MPs. Move." She barked, the others bolting to flee the scene before they could be reprimanded or returned to the military prisons some of them had been recruited from.

Reg fell in step beside her as they hurried to escape through the opposite end of the alley, fidgeting to adjust his beret as he spoke. "Y'know, we only did it 'cause they were-"

"Yeah, I don't care," Diana interrupted, tugging at his arm and gesturing for the others to follow as she led them through a labyrinth of dark, narrow passages - remnants of what had once been streets, now built up and over so much so that they were little more than tunnels, hidden from even the sunlight above. They could hear people walking over their heads as they navigated the alleyways, the MPs' whistles growing fainter and more distant with each turning.

The men squinted in the sun as they emerged back into daylight, the maze of back streets opening out onto an actual road, trafficked by the expensive cars of the city's richest, men dressed in military uniforms with women on their arms traipsing the pavements. She had not taken pause even once since their escape had begun, taking each twist and turn on their route without an inkling of hesitation, and the others noticed. Reg had never known her in the city she'd grown up in, but it was as if Cairo became an extension of her own body, the streets so familiar beneath her feet it was as if they had been born as one, created as a single entity. She was almost a different person here - above them in every conceivable way.

Reaching the front door of a large residential building, he paused to frown at the armed guards posted on either side of the doorstep, Diana fumbling for a key in her pocket before sliding it into the lock and herding them inside with a sweeping arm. Whatever this place was, Reg had never seen anything like it - Persian rugs lined the stone floors, pieces of stained glass dotted in every window, the hallways leading inwards to a huge central courtyard, visible from the foyer, a fountain bubbling away peacefully within.

"Where are we?" Fraser asked, passing his weight from foot to foot as if still expecting the MPs to burst in at any moment.

She turned to reopen the door they had entered through, craning her neck to survey the street outside before addressing his question. "My house."

"Fuuuuck me," Seekings muttered under his breath, taking a moment to look around, pausing as he noticed a painting hung on the wall at the base of the stairs. He could tell it was Diana - or supposed to be her, at least - although the resemblance wasn't quite there. Her hair hung in the elegant, artificial curls he saw the Englishwomen sporting, far from the wild, tight ringlets he was used to. Her eyes were gentler, her smile softer, as if every bit of hardness she possessed had been filed down and dulled. The woman in the painting was beautiful, but she wasn't Diana - not the way he knew her. She wouldn't even spare the artwork a glance as they stood there in the hall, as if she were ashamed of its existence.

The low hum of conversation could be heard from somewhere upstairs, and the men turned their heads at the sound of footsteps against tile, the figure of General Hannigan strolling merrily towards them. Even the months of SAS conditioning had not removed the deepest impulses of military training, and their small group snapped to attention, hands raised to their foreheads in salute as the General approached, jacket emblazoned with medals yet hanging unbuttoned, one of his shirt tails hanging untucked from his trousers.

The General surveyed their appearances, left a mess by the alleyway brawl, bruises already blooming on the skin left bare. "These are your boys then, eh?"

Diana was perched on the bottom step of the staircase, untying the laces of her shoes, the bangles on her wrist jangling noisily with the movement. "Aye," She nodded, a slight smile curling her lips. Her boys. Reg supposed they were really. There was very little she could ask of them that they would not do.

"Well, I'm sure you lot have some stories under your belts. I'll have to have you round to tell me about them soon, don't you think Diana?"

"Yeah, sure," Diana replied, padding barefoot across the hallway to an opening out into the courtyard, attempting to wrangle a stray cat that had made its way in as it lapped at the water in the fountain. Reg's brow furrowed, and Dave struggled to suppress a laugh beside him as she reached out and grabbed the creature, holding it at arm's length as it hissed and scratched the backs of her hands. Letting out a flurry of curses under her breath, Diana hurried to the front door, her father holding it open just long enough for them to expel the beast and bar its re-entry.

"Damn things," She muttered, sucking one of the cuts on her knuckles as the General straightened his jacket.

"Right, well, I've got half of senior command upstairs drinking their tea and wondering where I am, so I ought to go. Will you join us, Diana?"

"I'd rather be shot," She replied without hesitation, her jovial tone making Pat snort loudly. Hannigan seemed unphased by this response, giving his daughter a pat on the shoulder before disappearing up the staircase.

Silence hung among them for a long, awkward moment, droplets of blood blooming against her skin from where the cat had scratched at her. Diana looked up after a while of nursing her wounds, noticing the frown creasing Kershaw's expression. She shrugged. "We get them in here all the time. Dad keeps birds, so we've got to keep them out as best we can."

"... Right."

"Do you usually have half of senior command drinking tea in your house?" Fraser asked.

"Only on Wednesdays."

"Ah."

The coast outside had cleared, not a single MP in sight amongst the hustle and bustle of wealthy Englishmen sweating through their expensive suits in the Cairo heat. Diana had made sure to lightly scold them before letting the boys go, writing a shortlist of clubs they could actually enjoy and get appropriately hammered without military intervention. Kershaw took the list with a grin, tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt with as much care as if it were the holy grail itself. Their evening plans secured, the small group made to leave, filing back out through the front door, keeping a keen eye open for any more cats attempting to gain entry.

Reg was the last to leave, pausing in the doorway to look back at her one last time. The afternoon sun slipped through at an angle, and in the light, he could see light shades of brown running through her dark curls. Whoever had painted her had been a fool. They hadn't looked close enough - they had missed everything that made her truly beautiful.

"Forget something, soldier?" She asked softly, a smirk teasing her expression. He reached out, taking her hand in his with all the care he had the day Jock had died, brushing the pad of his thumb across her scratched knuckles, leaving a slight smear of blood in his wake.

"Look after yourself, eh? Have a good night." Reg nodded, dropping her hand as swiftly as he had taken it and leaving without a word.

The sensation did not come easy to him. Reg Seekings had only ever been familiar with anger - with rage, violence, and the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his body after he committed it. It was hard to be gentle - hard to force his hands to work softly, as if he were reeling back every muscle in his body that knew how to hurt, tucking what seemed the biggest part of himself away and digging down deep in the hopes he might find something better. As they headed down the street, getting further and further from the house with each step, he looked down at his hand, a smudge of Diana's blood dried and dark against his thumb. It was the first drop of blood Reg had felt on his hand that had not been born of violence - that had not come from the force of his fists.

"Y'alright there, Reg?" Kershaw's voice came from ahead, looking back over his shoulder.

He pushed his bloodied hand into his pocket and out of sight. "Yeah."

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When Reg, Dave and Pat had decided to go out that night, they were almost certain the address Diana had given them was incorrect. She had doodled a star beside the club's name - a sure sign of its quality - but the men could not help but share a look of uncertainty as they were led down a dark, narrow alleyway, silent in the cool evening air, the only sound the whirr of engines a few streets over.

"We better not be lost," Dave muttered, tearing the map from Pat's hands who surrendered it with an almost insulted scoff.

"The address is wrong, it ain't my fault."

At the other end of the alley, a basement door opened, a sliver of warm light escaping towards them along with the soft sound of music. A man and woman emerged, arm in arm, swaying side to side, clearly intoxicated as they staggered past the three of them and disappeared around a corner, the heavy metal door they had existed through being pulled shut with a creak.

"Well. I s'pose that's it then," Kershaw said, ignoring Riley's sideways look of 'told you so, asshole'.

They approached tentatively, Reg's knuckled rapping against the metal with a loud thud thud thud. A letterbox-sized slot was tugged open, a man peering at them from inside, bathed in the golden glow of lamplight.

"What d'you want?" He demanded.

They could not simply demand entry. That wouldn't work, they were smart enough to know that. Reg opened his mouth, hoping something smart would come to him, but nothing did. Shouldering his way to the front of the group, Pat spoke up, turning on his American charm, his voice coming calm and smooth.

"We're friends of Diana Fayed."

The door was hauled open wordlessly, creaking on its hinges, and the trio looked at each other in disbelief at their luck, Dave clapping Pat on the shoulder in approval as they headed inside. The sound of live music hit them the moment they entered, the club opening out before them with as much wonder as a distant mirage in the desert. They entered through the basement into the club's second floor, balconies adorned with tables running around the walls, the centre open above the main floor below. Despite being burrowed deep in the ground without a window in sight, they had somehow created the illusion of daylight, and it felt as though they had stumbled upon a time machine, transporting them to the heat and brightness of midday sunlight.

A band was in full swing on the main floor below, playing raucously atop a small stage that had been built up opposite the bar, the tiled floor dotted with tabled and dancing couples, Cairo society mingling freely as the alcohol ran ceaselessly.

"She knows her stuff, our Di'" Dave chuckled, unable to wipe the giddy grin from his face as they made their way to a table. Reg lowered himself into a seat, doing a double-take as he noticed a pair of beautiful women nearby, gossiping amongst themselves as they stared at the uniformed men. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a smirk coming on. But there was an inkling of hesitation, a sense of unease somewhere deep in his stomach. This wasn't like him. He needed a drink.

"Speaking of Diana," Pat frowned, peering over the balcony railing at the crowd of people below. Reg looked down, spotting her almost instantly.

She was making her way from the bar, a glass of whiskey in each hand, red lips spread in a grin as she chatted to a uniformed soldier next to her, his shoulders carving a way through the crowd for her as they headed towards a table. Her curls fell neatly without the disruption of the desert wind, the dark hair in stark contrast against the white silk of her dress. It held her close in all the right places, a flattering v-neck in the front, and a deep back exposing the curve of her spine. It was as if she had been carved from marble, so perfect did she look in Reg's eyes. He felt his mouth turn dry.

"Hey, Di'!" Dave called, and she met their gaze, lifting one of the glasses in something between a wave and a toast. Whatever she called back had been lost beneath the din of the music, but Reg couldn't tear his gaze away from her, try as he might.

"She looks good," Pat observed. Seekings almost glared at him.

"Oi Reg, look out, got an admirer over there," Kershaw teased, gesturing towards the pair of women who had been watching since they entered. He spared another glance to Diana down below. She had reached her table, sitting amongst a crowd of military men and well-dressed women, the group chatting and laughing like old friends. She didn't need him looking out for her, even if he wanted to.

Fuck it.

Reg picked up his glass as their drinks arrived, taking a sip and rising from his chair. "Fellas," He nodded, the others jeering in encouragement as he made his way over.

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It had been the first drop of real, good alcohol she had felt on her tongue since everything had happened. She hadn't had a drink when Eoin died, she hadn't had a drink when Jock died. Tonight it seemed Diana was drinking for both of them. No more sipping out of scavenged bottles they'd stolen from the New Zealanders. This was the good stuff.

"You sure you're good?" Jas asked from beside her. Jaspreet Nadar had been her best friend since they were children, since her father had followed the flow of cash from India to Egypt and decided to set up his business here, becoming friends with the General along the way. The pair hadn't seen each other in months, but their much-awaited reunion was becoming somewhat tainted by the tragedies Diana had witnessed. The moment the first drop of drink rolled down her throat it was as if she remembered everything she could be drinking for - and with that came the urge for another glass. And another.

Diana reached over and took Jaspreet's hand in hers, their palms slotting together perfectly. "Will you get drunk with me?" She asked sincerely.

The corner of Jas' mouth curled upwards in a smile both sympathetic and mischievous. "You know you never have to ask me that twice," She said, and Diana laughed as she watched her best friend upturn a shot glass and let its contents spill down her throat.

Their company for the night was largely comprised of the sons of Diana's father's friends - young, bright, military men hoping to live up to their fathers' legacies - and university students who had crossed the river in search of a good time. Neither Diana nor Jaspreet knew any of them as more than acquaintances or drinking buddies, but the atmosphere was jovial, and for a moment one could almost forget there was a war going on outside of that basement.

Except Diana couldn't forget. Sometimes she would wake in the dark, and for a moment find herself back in the desert the night of her first jump, staring up at the endless blackness, Eoin McGonigal's corpse a dead weight behind her, every muscle in her body screaming for release. She had ached for a week after that night, and was beginning to suspect Paddy had noticed her reluctance to meet his eye. In the SAS there was no time to stop, to process, to find a healthy way to cope instead of drowning in the horrors you had seen - and those you had committed yourself. The warmth of the alcohol in her throat was a calming presence, a mellowing influence that held the memories at bay. She began to find herself reaching for the next glass before she had finished the first.

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Reg's night was coming to a close. Comfortably buzzing from the alcohol, a beautiful woman ready to accompany him home - it was everything a night should be in a place like this. Downing the last of his drink, placing the glass down with the finality of a man ready to leave, he held out his arm to the woman - whose name he found he was struggling to recall - and she took it as they rose to their feet, a sense of anticipation hanging between them for what was to come.

It was just as he was about to leave when a hand seized his shoulder. He felt his entire body tense, mind suddenly racing in an attempt to pin who it could be. An off-duty MP who recognised him from the brawl? One of those cunts from the alleyway looking for a round two? Reg squared his shoulders in preparation for a confrontation as he turned, only to fall limp again as he found himself face to face with Kershaw, his brow furrowed in concern.

"What is it?" Seekings asked, tilting his head towards the woman on his arm to signal his preoccupation.

"We've got a... situation," Dave frowned.

"What the fuck is it?"

"Well..."

Over the din of the band, Reg heard a familiar cackle erupt from down below. Expression furrowing to match Dave's, he stepped towards the balcony railing, peering down at the main floor below. Diana's table was now empty save for her and another woman he didn't recognise - thick black hair curled fashionably, draped in a dress of purple silk - and the both of them were visibly, utterly, unmistakably shit-faced. Pat had already gone down, and had a gentle grip on Diana's arm, attempting to help her up from her chair as she continued to tell the other woman a very loud story, her words coming slurred as her companion struggled to contain her giggles.

"Oh, fuck," He muttered, his companion for the evening suddenly forgotten as he made his way to the stairs, descending with Kershaw close behind him.

Riley was visibly embarrassed by the attention they were drawing from nearby patrons as he attempted to steady Diana on her feet, ankles almost buckling as she tried to balance in her heels. "No, because he had a gun!" She slurred, halfway through her story, the other woman at the table letting out another laugh.

"Jesus Christ, how much have you had?" Reg scolded, wrapping an arm around her torso as he reached her side. Diana's brow rose in surprise at this, peering down at where his hand had a firm grip on her waist.

"Handsy," She noted, snorting back laughter.

"Fucking hell. Let's go."

The men attempted to steer her towards the exit but she tugged against them with all her might, craning her neck to look behind them. "Nooo, we have to bring Jas!"

"Who?" Dave asked, preoccupied with shouldering his way through the crowd ahead.

"She's my best friend, we have to bring her!" Breaking free of Reg's grip, he let out a frustrated sigh as he realised she had kicked off her heels, leaving them discarded in the middle of the floor as she returned for her friend, the pair swaying against each other as Jas stood up. "If you don't bring her I'll shout kidnap. I'm not fuckin' around."

None of them had the energy to argue, and so they helped the two women up out of the club, emerging into the cool night air, squinting in the darkness. Kershaw had a firm hand on Jaspreet's arm, and it was only once she was certain the other woman was with the group that Diana let Reg help her along, leaning into his side as he kept an arm around her.

"What happened to all your fancy friends, eh?" He asked quietly, feeling the warmth of her skin through her dress.

"They got bored - we got loud and they got embarrassed - went off to find somewhere else to sit."

There was that anger Reg knew all too well, bubbling up inside his chest so quickly he had to keep himself from clenching the hand that had a hold on her. She had been vulnerable, and they had ditched her. Who knew what could have happened, where she could have ended up had someone less savoury showed up? The possibilities flooding his thoughts made his blood boil, and his grip on her tightened slightly.

It had taken almost a half hour of wandering for the three soldiers to admit that they could not remember the way to Diana's home, the realisation hitting them with a sense of slight panic. Even with her knowledge of the city, there was no way she'd be able to guide their way back in this state. After some time deliberating, it became clear that they had only one option.

Stirling's butler opened the door to his flat promptly, an immediate expression of dread crossing his face at the sight before him. Reg, Dave and Pat were stood in the hallway outside, smiling hopefully as Diana and Jaspreet attempted to recall the lyrics to a song that had been playing in the club, giggling as they failed to find the words.

"No. No." The man protested, shaking his head despite his willingness to step aside for the group, the men shuffling past him and into Stirling's living room.

"Where's Stirling?" Kershaw asked, guiding Jas into a nearby armchair.

"He's out. You're lucky he doesn't have anyone over tonight, or you'd be in real trouble."

"Yeah, well. If he had a problem with this, tell him to call General Hannigan," Reg grunted.

The butler left the room swiftly, clearly choosing to pretend he hadn't seen anything at all. Diana was half-lying down on the sofa, her head pressed against the armrest, kicking off the shoes Reg had made her put back on before they left.

Without a word, Seekings turned to leave, fists clenched. "Woah, where are you going?" Pat called. He was satisfied that Diana was safe, but another pressing issue was tugging at him.

"I'll be back soon," He said simply, the door to the flat closing behind him with a slam.

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It was well into the early hours of the morning when Reg returned, entering far more quietly than he had left as he eased the door shut behind him. The flat had slipped into a comfortable silence, the only light creeping in from the streetlamps outside, a faint orange glow bathing half of the main room.

He collapsed backwards into the nearest armchair with a sigh, exhaustion tugging at his eyelids as he nursed the cuts and bruises that now littered his knuckles. The sudden shift of the light somewhere to his left startled him, sucking in a loud, sharp breath. "Fuckin' hell," He whispered.

"Sorry," Diana's voice replied from the darkness, and as his eyes adjusted he realised she was crouched on the hardwood floor, gently removing the pins from Jas' hair as the other woman slept soundly, her face pressed into the sofa cushions.

"Oh, it's you," Reg sighed, relaxing into his seat once more. "...What are you still up for?"

"These'll hurt when she wakes up," She pointed out, forming a neat pile of hairpins in the palm of her hand as she removed them one by one. It was such a caring gesture that he couldn't help but smile, almost forgetting the twinging pain in his fists.

"... Where did you go?"

"Oh, uh..." Reg looked down at the cuts on his hands. Diana shuffled across the floor towards him, the skirt of her dress creasing and bunching up around her hips with the movement. Even in the dark, he could make out the exposed skin of her thighs, and tried his damndest not to look. She was still drunk, after all. "Had some shit to deal with."

She reached up, taking one of his wounded hands in hers and squinting to make out the blood that was now beginning to scab. "Did you beat someone up?" Diana asked, almost teasingly.

"Went back to the club," He admitted. "Found one of the blokes who ditched you..."

He could make it out in her expression the moment she realised what he had done. Reg tensed, half expecting her to be angry, but in her intoxicated state, she merely smiled, letting out a giddy chuckle.

"Well, I am flattered," Diana grinned, and he had begun to do the same when she pressed her lips against the cuts that covered his knuckles, holding them there for a moment before turning her head to rest her cheek against the back of his palm, curled up on the floor beside him.

Reg sucked in another deep breath, fighting hard to bury anything he might have been feeling in that moment. In the dark he could feel the band-aids wrapped around her fingers from where the cat had scratched her, could feel the warmth of her cheek against his hand and hear the slow lull of her breathing. He could have stayed in that moment forever, but all at once it began to seem selfish.

"Right, come on," He grunted, pushing himself up from his chair. Diana looked up at him in confusion, and he spared a glance around the flat. "Where's the others gone?"

"Bed," She shrugged.

"Right then, that's where you're going too," Placing a hand on either side of her rib cage, she gripped his wrists as he hauled her up onto her feet, her skirt falling back down past her knees. Suddenly it was a little easier to breathe. Reg manoeuvred her awkwardly towards the sofa, accidentally stubbing his toe on something hard in the dark. He almost swore, and she pressed a finger to her lips, fighting a laugh as she shushed him, Jaspreet still sleeping soundly close by.

"Yeah, yeah," He whispered, shaking his head dismissively as she lay down along the length of the couch, curls splayed against the cushions. "Goodnight then," Reg nodded affirmatively, taking a step back.

"I think, technically, it's morning."

"Oh, shut up," He muttered, fighting a grin as he turned to leave, heading towards the spare room Stirling kept for guests on nights like these.

Just as he was about to leave, Diana's voice came, quiet and soft, from the darkness. "Thank you. For beating someone up for me, that's very sweet."

Reg nodded, a long pause lingering in the cool night air as he fought to find the right words.

"I will always be there to beat someone up when you need me," He said. Even in the dark, he could tell she was grinning.

"How romantic."

[ohsoshutter]

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[homeishalfway]

Staying in one place for too long just isn’t in Zooz’s nature. They get antsy, tiring of falling into the same routines day after day, existing in one tiny bubble when there’s so much world out there to see. So much lost. So much to be rediscovered.

And if you never leave, how can you enjoy the feeling of coming home?

Zooz and Trill make their way down from Takeoff Point, passing a few people lounging in the sun outside their homes and offering friendly greetings. Zooz is, arguably, a famous face around Halfway. It’s hard not to be when you’ve tamed a giant predator that should, by all rights, have killed you on sight. The couple of newcomers they pass still shrink back nervously at the sight of Trill, but crane their necks to get a better look at him once it becomes apparent he poses no threat. Once the pair are out of sight, they begin chattering excitedly about what the hell is that thing and is that guy crazy and what the hell does he feed it?

(Trill is still happily subsisting on a particularly large brawlfish Zooz caught two days prior, and won’t need to feed again for a couple of days more.)

No matter how many times or for how long they leave, Zooz will always have a home in Halfway. It’s a modest little house, an odd mix-and-match of traditional and industrial-influenced construction, with a canopy off to one side that Trill beelines for and promptly flops onto the ground beneath.

“Hold on, hold on. Lemme get this off you.” Zooz gets to work unpacking their belongings from Trill’s saddle, and then removing the saddle itself, a process which takes several minutes in all. The saddle, they hang on the wall of their house, underneath the canopy; the bags, they pick up, and they manage to open the door to the house with one foot while precariously balanced on the other.

The place has been left undisturbed in their absence. Acts of theft and vandalism are rare in Halfway: nobody has need to steal from an individual when the community provides what they need. Zooz unceremoniously dumps their bags in the middle of the floor, flings open the window shutters - undisturbed also means dusty, let’s do something about that - and walks straight back outside. The door swings shut behind them. Sorting through the bags can wait. Right now, food is the only thing on their mind, and they can practically smell Lew’s latest concoction from here.

[the-headbop-wraith]

1_12 Contracts

Summary: The Mystery Skulls spend a night exploring a condemned welding plant rumored to be haunted.  The group encounters shadow people lingering and cold spots, but one spirit in particular offers cryptic advice regarding a shy spook that doesn’t wish to be bothered.

The mom and pop diner had been around for a quarter of the century and sustained its self through the regulars and travelers passing through, or infrequent few that come by from the thoroughfare where the line of hotels and motels had sprung up over the decades.  A steady fog of amber sun gleamed through the thin paned windows that faced the parking lot, beyond awaited the road and the distance motels.  It was customary of restaurants with outdated stoves to raise a dull haze into the ceiling, for which the air transported rich currents of coffee, sizzling bacon and eggs, and cooking potatoes.

This old time atmosphere was lost on regulars who frequented these places, the promise of good coffee and a warm meal the only acquisition worth the time allotted.  Sometimes this reward was a ruse, and the disappointed customer would mark it down on the migration as a place that would never see a bill from their wallet again.  Vivi didn’t care, as she had her fair share of substandard meals that were not prepared by strangers, food was food.  Traveling as her group did on a tight schedule and a stricter budget, beggars couldn’t be choosy.

“I must interject,” Arthur began, as he scooted his coffee mug nearer to the edge of the worn plastic table when the waiter came by.  Arhur waited until the waiter refilled his mug and stepped away, before he continued, “that this spirit you guys saw may have been screwin’ with you.  Lewis in particular.”  Arthur took a sip before the steam could settle.

Vivi shrugged.  She tapped away at the computer, about twenty tabs open in each of the search engines she skimmed through.  “I don’t wanna come off as sounding naïve, but he seemed genuine,” she said.  “Anyway, he didn’t really mention anything about Lew.  Just gave us the fetch quest and wished us a good luck.”  Vivi pause and placed her elbows to the table top and entwined her fingers together, and set her chin on the bridge her knuckles formed.  “I don’t think he was from the plant.  He had a nondescript following him, same color as him; like with Lew and his deadbeats.”

Arthur cut his sausages with his fork, while picking up a chicken tender from the appetizer plate set between their individuals plates.  The chicken tender disappeared under the table, and Arthur selected another one in the same fashion, jaws clacking below.  “A suicide may not be impossible to look up,” Arthur says, and another chicken tender goes under the table while he pokes at a sausage with his fork, “but it may be well hidden unless we look for some more specific details.  A date, a time?  There would have to be an unrelated article somewhere.”

“I keep trying the factories name,” Vivi says.  More tabs in the search engine, a few others closed.  She sips at her warm tea and sighs.  “Maybe I’m trying to be too specific.  Er… damn?”

“Freeze up again?”  Arthur’s question was answered, as Vivi hefted up the laptop and passed it over the table to him.  “Hold up a sec.  You got Firefox opened too?”  He pushed his half eaten plate away and set the laptop down.  “It sucks when you got Chrome open.”  Arthur yelped when a loud snarl came from under the table, followed by a clank.  “I wasn’t talking to you!”

“Forgot I was using it,” Vivi says, as apology.  She fumbles with a piece of bacon on her plate and looks out the large window beside them.  “‘The one you should be looking for,’” she repeats.

__

“He’s hiding from you.”

Lewis had moved to stand between Vivi and the other when its voice found them, but Vivi had gently nudged him aside and raised her camera to get a picture.  She never took her eyes off the gloomy figure, maybe as tall as Lewis, standing on the first step of a set of cement stairs leading to a higher level of the factory.  The voice had a thick grating, as if the bearer was older in life, if not in death.

The condemned welding plant had been shut down for years, following its closure.  The drums and machinery left behind emit a heavy vapor of rust, traces of seeping propane and oil fumes filled the air with a thick tar.  The only light source came from a flashlight Vivi carried, and what moonlight drips down from the large thick shutters high above in the ceiling.

“Who… do you think we should be looking for?” Lewis asked.  He looked over as Vivi checked the view screen of the camera, and showed him the figure carefully hidden by dark folds of shadows and grease.  But Lewis could make out dissimilar features, a bald head, bright eyes gleaming, and a dark suit.  The figure looked human, but for its eyes.

“I don’t come here often,” said the other.  He watched Vivi carefully.  “The others, they remain.  I know none of them.”

Vivi waited.  She noted a shape huddled on the steps somewhere above the other spirit, a dull glow emitting from its chest which had a coloration that matched the heart of the spirit whom addressed them.  It was too cold to be standing around, the factory absorbed the heat and expelled icy drafts that clung to bones.  “So this guy, you wouldn’t know his name?” she says.  “He’s a he?  Right?”

The spirit crackled, his voice hollow but it failed to echo around them.  “I sometimes come around here.  After the place was shut down, but even then that was a long time ago.”  A strange sound came from him, a rattle or crinkle, and the nondescript shadow on the steps faded.  “But you’re here, you must be looking for him.”

“If you say so?” Lewis said, unsure himself.  “We’re just paranormal investigators, trying to catch some evidence of unusual occurrences.  Namely, spooks.”

“I see,” the other said.  “Then I’m right.  You should be looking for him, and he is hiding from you.”

Vivi pulled her backpack around and slipped the camera into a side pocket.  “I hope you don’t tell us we’re wasting our time, wandering around here,” Vivi says.  She adjusts the straps on her shoulders and thumbs at the walkie-talkie in her hand.  “Because we have ways to draw out the shy ones.”

The eyes of the other spirit brightened.  “You do?” he said, and glanced away for a moment.  “It would help if you had a unique item of his?”

Vivi took a step toward the steps, and the spirit snapped his gaze back on her.  “Immensely.  Is there something in this factory he favored, or owned?”

“No, not here, I don’t think,” the spirit said.  Above him, the lingering nondescript reappeared, nearly missed in the gloom as it drifted down to its companion.  “I know a few very interesting details that will help you, should you want to speak with him.”

 Vivi jarred.  She heard Arthur’s voice in her ear and tried to answer him on the walkie-talkie.  She blinked, her heavy eyelids struggling to stay down as she drew her face back from the table’s surface.

Arthur winced and withdrew his hand from her shoulder.  “Sorry,” he said, and held up the laptop in his good arm.  “I fixed it, but you looked really beat.”

“So why’d you wake me?”  Vivi pulled her back upright, and fixed the magenta glasses on the bridge of her nose.  She looked to where Arthur was pointing to the plates, dangerously near the edge of the table.

“You are such a restless sleeper.”  Arthur set the laptop down in the space before her, and pulled the top screen open.  “I had to go back and retrieve a bunch of your browsing history, but I don’t think you’ve checked this link yet?”  His metal arm reached around the screens side and indicated one of the non-highlighted links.

As Arthur pulled back the plates from the edge of Sparta, Vivi clicked on the link.  “It didn’t have a lot of visits, so I just forgot about it.”  A shabby and self-made webpage appeared, the font very simple and all of the simplicity of the site gave off the strong vibe of do-it-yourself-or-don’t.  The links did work, the list included Home page, Town history, Images, and a few others.  Vivi selected Businesses.  She took a scoop of her eggs as she read down the page, a long list of shops, farmers, and one page for the welding factory they had visited.  “Okay, fingers crossed,” she announced, as she clicked the link.  She took her last piece of bacon and passed it under the table.

“Remember,” Arthur says, chewing on a buttered biscuit.  He shifted his food into his cheek like Galahad would, before he went on, “Even little things can be enlightening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivi muttered.  “I always check.  Last on my list though.”  She read through the numerous articles, more history, she picked some of the dates and historical value of the old factory.  “Yes!  Got it!”  She spun the laptop around, nearly knocking Arthur’s coffee over as she pushed the computer toward him.  “Name. Got a name.”

Arthur rescued his coffee, and took another sip as his eyes wandered to the page.  “Local man commits suicide?  You sure that’s the one?” he asked.  Suicides weren’t uncommon, said to say.  Arthur didn’t like the topic far less than others.

Vivi ordered another tea, before she leaned over to the computer.  “This one’s it because he worked at the factory.  I know it doesn’t say it there – like you said they don’t tell people about these things, but he worked at the factory, and he killed himself there.  It’s him.”  She spun the computer back around and stooped over, to the wall under the window where her backpack rested.  “Some of his family still resides in the city.”

“No, you’re not getting my sausage,” Arthur said, under the table.  He scooted his plate from the edge, and gave a cough.  “Yeah, about messaging between family and the deceased,” he grumbled.  “I hate that!”

“They’re not direct relatives,” Vivi says, struggling to keep her voice low.  “Descendants.  We’ll tell them we’re curious about some… bogus family history.  That ghost said—”

“That ghost was a complete dick!”  Arthur sighed and rubbed his face as he sat back.  The booth seat was so uncomfortable, but after a night of walking around in that drafty factory… no, he still hated the hard cold seat.  “We’re going on a fetch quest, why?”

“Because the ghost we want committed suicide.  And he was hiding from us,” Vivi says.  She smiles sweetly to the waiter when he brought more hot water and a new teabag.  “I want to know why he’s hiding from us.”

“Have you seen Lewis lately?” Arthur mumbled, looking into his empty coffee mug.  “He’s hard to miss.  Fucking scary too.”  He said that last part under his breath.

“Where is Lewis by the way?”  Vivi had two windows on the laptop open, just like her days attending college and writing book reports.  One window was a phonebook with names and addresses, the other tab was left open for the history of the welding factory.

“Went for a walk,” Arthur said.  He finished off his sausages and poked at his hash browns with his fork.  “I think.”  He thanked the waiter as more coffee came his way.  “You think he’s jealous you were talking to another ghost?”

Vivi put her sleeve to her lips as she giggled.  “No,” she says.  “He better not be.”  Arthur smirked and gave a light snicker.  “Do you think he gets hungry?  Or, maybe he’s around food he gets hungry?  Like, does he even smell?”

“Not bad?” Arthur said.  He chewed on some of his hash browns, and winced when Vivi tried to pop him on his good shoulder.  “Hey!  These are tasty, and I’m not done,” he growled.  “No-no.  No potatoes for you Mystery.”

“What about eating?”  Vivi continues.  She watches as Arthur picks up his mug of coffee and lifts it to his lips.  “Do you think he could….?  Never mind.”  She looks away and presses her lips together.

“Huh?” Arthur says.  And takes a sip.

“I was just thinking about Casper.”  She had his reaction pegged to a dime.  Arthur snorted and began coughing.  “Sorry.”

“My good pants!” Arthur snarled, as he went for the napkins and began blotting up the black mess now all over his plate and the table.  “Just got them from home!”

“That was pretty good,” Vivi says.

“Yeah, it was,” Arthur grumbled.  He took the half glass of water and poured some water onto his pants.  “I’m up to get you next.  The scores…. Eh, three and two.  I’m still winning.”

“I still say pointing out Lewis is shaped like a Dorito doesn’t count,” Vivi says.  She cut off a piece of her egg and ate it, then went back to scrolling and writing.  “Only because it is true, and that’s a foul.”

“You still laughed, and that’s what counts,” he said.  Arthur’s pants weren’t stained too bad, a few drops that the water had diluted enough.

“I feel bad about it though,” Vivi said.  She took a few more sips of her tea and finished off her eggs, then took the remainder of Arthur’s biscuit.

“I don’t think it bothered him that much,” Arthur says, as he scoots the tatters of potato remains around on his plate.  “He’ll just never look at a Dorito the same way.  No loss.”

“No, I mean—” Vivi stopped and stared at Arthur for a moment.  Recognition of who he was and their topic source hitting her hard.  She took a breath and sipped at her tea a little more.  “You eat a lot of Doritos.”

“Doritos, Pop Rocks, and Energy drinks,” Arthur pipes.  “Anything to keep me running when the headlamps are blazing.”  He looks under the table.  “Mystery, are you seriously licking the floor.  Gross.”  He stops the waiter and gets a fresh mug of coffee, before slipping it under the table.  “Careful, it’s hot.  Want sugar?”  There’s a bark.  “One or two?”  Three barks.  “Humming bird.”

Vivi paused in writing to watch Arthur and smirked.  “When he’s bouncing off the walls, I’ll remember this,” she warns.

“Lew can handle him.”  Arthur’s smirk faded.  He put some creamer into his own coffee and sipped.  “And the case?”

“Right,” Vivi took a breath.  She scrolled up reading through the historical document.  “No mention of the death, though there were a lot of accidents reported.  Then, the former owner passed away.  Hmm.”  She scanned through the font.  “‘Faulty equipment… Inability to acquire new equipment following The Stock Market crash of twenty-nine.’  Rough stuff.”

“A lot of businesses went bankrupt,” Arthur said.  “A lot of the owners couldn’t deal with it.  Does it say how the factory owner died?”

Vivi took a moment to write a few more notes in her notebook, before she answered, “It just says natural causes.”  She finishes copying down the addresses and sketches out a quick map on the next page.  “There’s not too many, most our time will probably be spent driving around until we find the right relations.  That’s IF the spirit was being honest.” 

“I should hang back with the van, while you guys go harass people in their homes,” Arthur says.  He reaches under the table and brings back up the empty coffee mug.  “That way when you guys get arrested for trespassing, I can bail you out.”

“It won’t come to that,” Vivi said.  She turned to look out the window and noticed the sun had risen higher above the distant rooftops during breakfast.  “As long as they’re not weirded about random strangers visiting out of the blue.” 

Arthur says, “Pot.  Kettle.  Black.”  Vivi throws a crumpled up napkin at him, which Arthur catches and sets aside. 

“I’ll go see if I can find Lewis,” Vivi says, as she tucks the beaten up spiral notebook into her backpack.  She takes up the half eaten biscuit and finishes it off.  “Want anything else?”

“I’m good.”  Arthur scoots over as Mystery clambers up, claws scratching at the plastic seat.  Arthur reaches over the table and pulls the laptop around and shuffles some of the plates and begins organizing the mess on the table.  “Here’s the keys,” he says, and holds up the ring with the boo charm on it.  “In case.”  He doesn’t let go of the keys when Vivi grabs them, and only looks up at her from under his thick eyebrows.

“He can’t just keep running away from us,” Vivi murmurs.  Arthur doesn’t comment, but releases the keys.  Vivi grabs her backpack and slings it over her shoulder as she walks off.  She looks to the other side of the diner, toward the half that is gift curious and jewelry but with Lewis stature it should be impossible to miss him.  There was clothing and coats at the furthest back, but she could still see the wood panels of the stores rustic backside.

At the counter within the midpoint of the diner, across from the glass door entrance, Vivi gives pause and waits for the cashier to finish with her customers.  When the family disperses around Vivi, she steps forward to the cashier.  “How was your meal?” the darker woman asks and smiles.

Vivi returns the gesture, her eyes still scanning behind the cashier should Lewis materialize (literally) out of nowhere.  “Splendiful, thank you.  Hey listen, I’m wondering if you’d see my friend lingering around here?” she says.  “Grizzly-tall guy, poof hair, purple sweater.”  The woman begins to shake her head and frowns a bit.  “He’s wearing these big, dorky ass sunglasses.”

“Oh!  Yeah,” the cashier said, with a grin.  She motions over her shoulder with her thumb.  “Guys in the back doing dishes.”

Vivi scowls.  “WHAT?”

Lewis is in the back doing dishes. 

For everything of him he couldn’t remember the last time he had done dishes.  Probably when he was still working for his family at Peppers Paradise, either cooking or doing the dishes.  Sometimes he preferred doing one over the other.  If he was feeling invigorated and playful he had the urge to create, to bring simple ingredients together into zesty splendor; sometimes experimenting with the ingredients of the dishes his Mamma and Pappa had spent years mastering.  Some free reign ambition was good, other times… well, Lewis and friends didn’t mind eating his creations.

Dishes were simple, dishes were autopilot.  He’d been doing dishwashing so long he didn’t need to think, he could let his mind wander off.  Go back a few years, reunite with simpler times though they may be lost. 

Water gushed, steam hissed.  Lewis scrubbed at the rock like crust of black, scouring the inside of pots forgotten too long on the stove with the hard scrubber.  If the task was impossible he’d fill the dish with hot water and some degreaser, then leave it be moment while he slid off.  The floor was slick enough he could get away with it, as he’d seen another kitchen aid skidding by on his own black heels a moment before.  Luckily, everyone’s eyes were elsewhere or they might’ve caught the hot pink sparks leaving scorch marks on the tile.

He moved further down the sink line, to the smaller pots and sauce pans in the deep basin.  An apron was tied to his front over his sweater, the sweater sleeves rolled up his forearms, and a pair of thick gloves were pulled up to wrap snug over the bundled ends.  He turned the heavy tap on and let water cascade into the deep sink and put a dab of the degreaser in, he skids over and put a little more in the large pot for good measure and skid back.  He took the rag and scrapped off the stains of food, scrubbed the pot clean and rinsed it then slid it down the stainless steel ramp to the next kitchen aid drying off the pots for the cooks.

The water practically boiled around his arms, but it was hard to tell with the thick suds.  He raises up an aggravating knife with a stubborn crust of something on it, and examined the sharp blade as it glint under the harsh phosphorus light.

“Knife coming down,” Lewis called, and slid the blade towards the dryer.  Soon there were stacks of plates, mugs, plastic cups rolling down the glistening wet ramp.

“Give me a sec, Lew,” the dryer called.  The dryer finished buffing two plates and set them into wire rimmed slots in a cart at his back.  While on pause, Lewis let the water drain out and rinsed the deep sink. 

“We’re short on pots.”  One of the cooks, dressed in a white uniform, approached Lewis.  “I’ll dry’em, don’t worry about it.”  The chef adjusted a towel laid over his forearm.

“How many?  What kind?”  Lewis was already pulling a few of the smaller pots from the stack and dunked them into the steaming bubbles.

“Two,” the cook answered.  “Lids too.  And three ladles.”  He rubbed at his brow with the inner side of his shoulder as Lewis scrubbed and rinsed.  He held open the towel as Lewis handed over the pots, plus lids, and spoons. 

“Got them?” Lewis asked, as he stuck the ladles into the pots open top.

“Yep, thanks,” the chef said.  He began pawing at the dishes between the towels.  “Whoo.  Hot, hot.  These are scalding.  Don’t your hands burn?”

Lewis shrugged as he turned back to the deep sink.  “Nope,” he chimes.  “I’ll turn the taps temp down, though.”  He freezes when the door across from him sweeps open and in charges Vivi.

“Lew—” Vivi’s words cut off when the sunglasses drop off his face and hit the floor, one of the lens pops out and skips up under one of the stainless steel counters.  “Oh shit!”  Vivi fidgets around as if trying to pick up a wild, spewing bottle of soda but uncertain how to do this feat without getting her clothing all wet and stained.

“I’m sorry, blueberry,” Lewis begins, holding up his slick gloved hands.  “You were eating, and I was going to—” He emits a brief but loud shriek, when Vivi jerks him down by the collar of his suit.  The lights in the kitchen flicker and dim causing the nearest of the kitchen aids to pause and look up, after a short sputter the lights brighten without problem.  “What?  What now?”  Lewis stares as Vivi jerks her sweater off over her head.  Underneath the sweater Vivi always wore a darker blue T-shirt that matched her skirt, but she preferred the extra comfort of the sweater.  Lewis doesn’t get out another sound before Vivi shoves the puffy sweater down over his face and she begins shoving him toward the swinging doors.

“Your face, Lew.  Your face,” Vivi hisses into his back.

“Ah.”  Lewis puts his hands up and pushes the doors away as he’s herded out.  A voice calls from the side, and he detects a presence hurry at them.

“I’m very sorry,” Vivi says around Lewis shoulder, her voice strained.  She pauses in the entry of the swinging doors as the taller man stares at them from the kitchens interior, between her and Lewis but mostly at Lewis with the sweater sagged around his face.  “He’s got… a bad nose bleed,” Vivi said, and kept going with the evasion, nodding.  “He gets them sometimes.  I gotta get him outside, get him some fresh air.”

“O… kay,” the older man said, staring with confusion.  Lewis thought he sounded like a compact version of his father.  “I’ll just need the gloves back, and the apron.  Also, I wanted to let you know we took some of your bill off, since he was doing the dishes.  It’s only fair.”  He nods.

“Right, um, thank you.”  Vivi pulls on Lewis sleeves and turns him away from – who she suspects could be the manager, or assistant manager.  Vivi slips off the rubber gloves and pulls the damp sweater down over Lewis’ suit.  She tugs at the apron, until Vivi finds the one cord at Lewis’ back that undoes the elegant little tight knot.  Vivi slaps Lewis hands away when he tries to help take off the apron, and instead he leans forward to allow Vivi the range to pull the aprons loop off from over his sweater garbed head.  Lewis doesn’t realize how fortunate he is that Vivi’s hands are full, otherwise she’d punch him.  “Really, thank you.  I’m so sorry about this.”

The kitchen aid waves her off.  “It’s no prob, nose bleeds suck,” he says, taking the gloves and apron.  “He’s really good at this gig.  I hope you’ll come by again before you head out.”

“Yes!  Most def.  C’mon Lew, let’s get you some napkins.”  Vivi pulls Lewis by his cuffs, guiding him out into the main interior of gift store.  She guides him around the few aisles and finds the little exercise is much easier than what it would be, if Lewis was just any other person.  The cashier watches them from the counter island in the center of the store, but says nothing as Vivi guides Lewis towards towards the glass doors of the restaurants entrance. 

People are still coming in, and too many stop to stare as she hauls Lewis out.  Vivi turns to the diner’s interior, scanning along the many large windows that face the parking lot and catches Arthur’s gaze as he looks up from the laptop in front of him.  Seated beside Arthur, Mystery catches his movement and looks up as well.  Arthur slants his eyes and makes a vague gesture with his good arm, twirling his hand at the wrist.  Vivi frowns and shakes her head, she gestures back with a sort of cutting motion and points out the door.  She has only a slight hint to what Arthur had signed, but he probably already gathered up the sum of what occurred in the kitchen.

It took a little longer than it normally would for Lewis to get his bearings together and pull on his Alive appearance.  Vivi had waited outside the doors of the van, as he sat in the back soundless and weightless.  For the duration Vivi would watch people walk by on the sidewalk across the parking lot.  The van was parked with its back facing the crumbling old wall of the restaurants side, and she felt confident no one would get close enough to the front of the van to make out the curious movement within through the large windshield.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she began, when she heard Lewis creep out onto the back bumper.  It was tricky to tell, but she was getting accustomed to his airless movements.  “I panicked, but I guess I shouldn’t have.  You have to be more careful, though.”  She turned to the open door where Lewis now stood, dark eyes with the bright glimmer in their depths staring at her dubiously.  “You gotta work on not getting surprised when something random happens, or work on recovering faster.”

Lewis sort of frowned, his nose wrinkling in a way that seemed natural.  “It’s not as easy as I’m making it out to be, y’know,” he says.  “It’s not like there’s a little switch in me and when I feel like it, I flip it and change the way I look.”

Vivi sighed.  “I know.  I’m scared, that’s all.  But I’m not sure how—” She stopped and looked away as if something had caught her attention.  “I worry about you,” Vivi says.  “I worry about you, and I don’t want to worry about something taking you from us.”

“Mi arandano,” Lewis hummed.  He stepped over to Vivi and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.  “I think I’m far beyond that threshold of being taken by someone else.”

Vivi kept silent for a moment, her arms curled up and pressed back into Lewis’ sleeves.  She listened to the distance traffic on the roads, and somewhere else the muffled patter of the locket Lewis carried.  A frail breeze crooned over the hard concrete and Vivi took a deep breath, taking in the thick scent of the earthy weeds growing between the cracks in the cement along the road, and the old oil baking on the asphalt.  There was… an unfamiliar scent to her long travels, something foreign to the countless roads and parking lots she had visited throughout the states.  The aroma was somewhat sweet and fresh, like after shower rains in a forest.  Or is it more electrical, like a thunderstorm charging across the untamed plains of the open desert?  She takes a tentative breath.  It was so pleasant and out of place, under the rash bake of the warm sun on cool pavement.  She leaned over and sniffed at Lewis sleeve.  That was it.  It was Lewis.

“What kind of soap were you using?” Vivi asked, as she pressed her nose into his sweater.  “On the dishes?”

Lewis looked away from a family that was walking by on the nearby sidewalk, towards the restaurants front.  “Just the usual industrial lemony-antibacterial stuff,” he said, distracted.  “I never really noticed it, I guess.”  He glanced over as the family entered through the glass doors.

“Hmm.”  Vivi could remember Lewis just drenched in the stuff from long hours in kitchen, on the late evening when he was washing the endless cycle of dishes that lay siege on the kitchen.  That was his smell when they were younger and while they were home, and she grew to like it.  That was not what he smelled like now.  But this was nice, whatever it was.  Vivi took one last deep breath of his sweater.  “You smell really nice,” she said, and stepped away from him.

Lewis stood there, arms open.  “Thanks?”

Vivi made her way around back to the front doors of the diner.  “I have to pay the bill,” she called back.  “And I’ll get you some new glasses from the gift shop.”

“Make sure they’re fashionable,” he hails after her.  “And purple!”

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm epilogue

In which the sun comes out

Epilogue: Bathed in Light

Okay, it feels a little weird to have an epilogue after that last chapter, but…sure, let’s see what this is about.

Egwene, apparently. Which is fitting, I suppose; this book has very much been hers and Rand’s, with other characters mostly showing up around the edges. It’s getting the Dragon Reborn and the Amyrlin to their places, and playing their arcs against each other for maximum comparative impact.

She’s in the Amyrlin’s study now, which is more or less a symbol of victory for her. She won her battles, she won her war, and now she takes her place.

Not sure how much useful information you’re really going to get from going through Elaida’s things, but sure.

Meanwhile Romanda and Lelaine are continuing to make nuisances of themselves, but…hate to disappoint you two but the window on that opportunity has most assuredly passed. Get over it.

It was late afternoon, and light peeked through the slits of the louvered shutters to her balcony. She didn’t open them, preferring the quiet dimness.

Should we be concerned about that, Egwene?

No number of wall hangings would banish her memory of those days, not when Silviana herself was Egwene’s Keeper. That was fine. Why would Egwene want to banish those days They contained some of her most satisfying victories.

It’s vaguely similar to but also much healthier than Rand riding away from Far Madding, thinking that the cell—and the box—had been a gift because it allowed him to…forge his soul in the fires of pain. Egwene, instead, focuses on the victories that came out of the pain she endured. It’s not a happy set of memories, perhaps, but they’re memories of strength and perseverance and victory.

Silviana’s put together one of the weirder censuses (censi? What the hell is the plural of ‘census’ and why did I never actually study Latin), with categories for ‘yeeted off the Tower’ and ‘grabbed in the night by fruitbat-dragons’ and ‘Black Ajah so should have been executed but fucked off to live and cause problems another day’. No question on citizenship, it seems, though.

Verin’s list was almost perfect, but over sixty escaped, which…doesn’t detract from the sheer fucking badassery that is Verin Mathwin, but it is something of a Wheel of Time classic: you’ve solved the problem! Only…too late or not quite or in a way that lets circumstance screw you over anyway. Which, honestly, is one of the things I like about the series. There aren’t a lot of convenient solutions that just…work. Things work, and then end up breaking something else. Or things work, but not as widely as one would have hoped. Or things work, but before the results can fully play out, someone else comes along and fucks things up again, or differently.

Verin was incredible and Egwene was incredible and lots of the Black Ajah escaped anyway, because no solution is going to be perfect. Because protagonists aren’t the only characters with agency, with the ability to act. Other characters aren’t just going to wait around for the main characters to put their plans in place; they have their own contingencies and ideas and sometimes everything tangles up worse than a cat in a yarn store, and it’s messy and realistic and fun.

(Especially for the cat).

What had tipped them off? Unfortunately, it had probably something to do with Egwene seizing the Black Ajah in the rebel camp.

…you don’t say.

Something about that entire thing reads as absolutely hilarious to me. Also, is my ebook just weird or is that meant to say ‘probably had something to do with…’?

But yes. Yes, Egwene, it probably had something to do with that. Just maybe. Though that would imply that the Black Ajah has done what no one else in this entire series has managed: communicated quickly and effectively. Credit where it’s due.

Everyone left has sworn all the Oaths again, though, so that….probably covers the majority, though I’m sure one could find a way around that if one were truly determined.

I will find you, Alviarin, Egwene though, tapping the sheet with her finger. I will find you all.

I can tell you this: I would not want to be on Egwene’s shit-list. And I would especially not want to be on Egwene al’Vere’s hit-list.

Egwene’s now turned her attention to the puzzle of ‘which one of you is Mesaana in disguise’ and I swear I had a theory on this at some point but I have actually forgotten who I thought it might be, so uh…well, I had to forget something sometime, right?

I really am curious how she’s managed to hide her strength in the Power, though. I know it’s possible to mask the ability to channel completely, but is it possible to do a partial masking? Make yourself appear weaker than you are? If not…how the hell has no one found Mesaana before now, if she’s disguised as an Aes Sedai? (And how have I never thought about this? I’m just doing terribly on All Things Mesaana, I guess).

Either way, Egwene had a problem.

Maybe I’m just slightly giddy from the fact that I’m almost finished with this book, but again I’m finding this inordinately funny. Problems? Egwene? As Amyrlin in a Tower that’s held together by duct tape and denial? Nah.

I don’t even recognise any of the three names on Egwene’s ‘maybe Mesaana’ list so I doubt it’s any of them.

Was Mesaana still hiding in the Tower? If so, she somehow knew how to defeat the Oath Rod.

That’s…an intriguing possibility. Unless she just conveniently stepped out for the day and she’s just been masquerading as someone so unremarkable no one would notice she’s not there?

A soft knock came at her door. It cracked a moment later. “Mother?” Silviana asked.

That is suspiciously conspicuous timing. Silviana couldn’t be Mesaana….could she? That would be so infuriating but also kind of genius. Huh. *squints at Silviana*

Except Egwene just said Silviana was the first to volunteer to re-swear the Oaths.

But if Mesaana knows a way around the Oath Rod…or, really, she could truthfully say she’s not a member of the Black Ajah, and then remove the Oaths later…yeah okay it falls apart a little the more I think about it but that timing sure as hell is suspicious and it would be kind of excellent. You know, in the worst sort of way.

I don’t think you can just…make a hole in the wall into a rose window…I’m pretty sure architecture doesn’t work like that…ah, fuck it, they have the Power, they can do what they want. Who am I to stand in the way of stained glass?

Silviana wants Egwene to see something, so this is either going to be good or very, very bad.

Oh.

After all this time, the clouds had finally broken.

That’s all.

And yet, it’s everything. The fact that Silviana called the Amyrlin to come see sunlight tells you something about how remarkable it is—and thus, by extension, just how dark the last weeks have been.

Such a small thing, but we saw the reason for it last chapter and…I suppose in its way, even that was a small thing. Just a boy on a mountain, fighting with himself and coming to a conclusion. No fireworks, no battlefields, not even any witnesses.

And yet, everything has changed. Even if none but Rand, alone on Dragonmount, know why. Everything has changed because something as simple—and yet as integral—as his perspective has changed. Because he’s remembered why he fights, remembered that there’s hope, realised what he’s doing this for.

It’s for the world, and so for the first time in a long time, that world gets to be just a little bit brighter.

The sun shone down, radiant, lighting the distant, snowcapped crag. The broken maw and uppermost peak of the blasted mountainside were bathed in light.

It’s just a beautiful, quiet moment. A broken mountain finally bathed in light. Not healed, precisely, but no longer shrouded in darkness.

(Also...is anyone else reminded here of Do not stand at my grave and weep?).

And of course it’s the Amyrlin looking out at it and noticing this change, though she doesn’t yet know why. Egwene and Rand are looking at each other across a distance that is as symbolic as it is literal, though neither of them know it. But this has been their book, and they have in their strange ways mirrored each other through it, and now they can look at the same sunlight, now that the storm has broken for both of them.

They’ve ended on very different kinds of victory, but they have both found a position of…strength, and self-realisation, and readiness for what they must face next.

And in its way this is almost like a quiet, shared moment between them, though they are not in the same place, or even truly aware of one another. But it feels like a…breath, a single beat, in which they both get to pause at the same place.

There was something beautiful about it. The light streaming down in a column, strong and pure. Distant, yet striking. It was like something forgotten, but somehow still familiar, shining forth from a distant memory to bring warmth again.

OH. OKAY. OKAY THIS IS ACTUALLY AMAZING BECAUSE.

Lews Therin, creating Dragonmount in a column of light and Power, too much for any one person to hold and survive, destroying himself and tearing at the world itself. A bright light on Dragonmount as the final moments of the one who would be known afterwards as Kinslayer. A bright light on Dragonmount as the Dragon’s death, and darkest hour.

And now, it is echoed in this Age but inverted, because it’s a second chance. The same, and yet utterly different. A moment of realisation for the Dragon, and a bright light on Dragonmount, but this time the realisation is not one of horror and tragedy but of love and hope and second chances. And the light is not annihilation but sunlight, and life.

That? Is a fantastic parallel and inversion.

Of course it is ‘like something forgotten’. Of course it is ‘somehow still familiar’. Of course it shines forth ‘from a distant memory’. Because that’s what it is, and yet in this Age, it gets to be something different.

(A memory of light, even. Sorry, sorry…)

“Storms will soon come,” it seemed to say. “But for now, I am here.” I am here.

Oh, damn, shivers. Wow. What a line to end on.

Not the chilling horror, this time, of ‘I am the storm’, but the cathartic comfort, at last of ‘I am here’. Shelter from the storm, or a light to guide the world to its end, rather than the tempest itself.

We began with the strange clouds, with ‘What the Storm Means’, with people looking to the sky in fear and dread and strange premonition, as the storm gathered and the sky darkened. And we end now with the clouds breaking, with the sun shining, with ‘Bathed in Light’, and people looking to the sky in awe and hope. Atmospheric imagery as bookends done right.

I wasn’t sure how an epilogue was going to work, after that chapter, but to allow for this to be the ending…it did.

----

At the end of time, When the many become one, the last storm shall gather its angry winds to destroy a land already dying. And at its centre, the bland man shall stand upon his own grave. There he shall see again, and weep for what has been wrought.

I don’t really have a lot to say about this except that it’s absolutely beautiful, and perfect, and just a little bit devastating, but in an oddly hopeful way.

He’s reached this point at last, and he can see again, here at the centre of the storm. He can weep again. And now it is time to face the ending. Now that, at last, he is ready.

Next (TGS final thoughts) Skip to: TOM prologue pt1 Previous (TGS ch 50)

[joesbrownusa]

Houses For Sale in Georgetown, DE

24755 Mill Pond Ln

Price: $344900

Quick Delivery with New Interior Photos Coming Soon. This Home is Ready to Go and Features a Great Open First Floor Plan with an Office and First Floor Master with 2 Walk in Closets and a Second Floor With 3 more Bedrooms and a Large Living Area. Hardwood, Tiling, and Granite Counter Tops Are Included as well as a Full Basement and Many Other Upgrades. This New Georgetown Plan is Sure to Become One of our Most Popular. Make your Call Today to Set Up Your Private Viewing! (The photo of the second floor plan will have a finished living area where it says “open to below”). Make your call t o see this one today before its gone!!

24731 Draper Loop

Price: $229000

Privacy and charm is what this home offers, but still within a community. The lot is almost three acres and mostly wooded. This 5 year young home has a spacious family room, dining room and galley kitchen with three bedrooms with large closets and two full bathrooms. The main bedroom has a full bath with double sinks and a shower. The attic has a floored area for plenty of storage. There is a deck that sits off the back of the home for you to enjoy cool summer nights grilling. Perfect home to start with or downsize too.

44 Cinder Way

Price: $215000

Tired of cutting grass, shoveling snow, taking care of exterior repairs, then you’re ready for Village of Cinderberry. Enjoy the care free lifestyle of this caring community. Beautifully landscaped among pine trees. Tranquil setting as you enjoy the screened porch or waving to neighbors from your front porch. Desirable open floor plan, breakfast bar, island, gas cooking, Fireplace, Plantation shutters, Laundry Rm w/pocket door, comfortably sized 2 bedrooms, walk in seated shower, Jetted Soaking Tub. MORE? Convenient to shopping and beaches. Enjoy the Georgetown community at the festival s, parades, summer concerts, and farmers market.

6 Cranberry Ct

Price: $223900

Located in the stress free, Natural Gas, 50+ Active Adult Community – The Village of Cinderberry. This lifestyle includes exterior home maintenance, lawn care, indoor pool, fitness center, game room and more! The beautiful home is located on a corner lot and also in a cul de sac for perfect serenity. The interior of the home features an open floor plan with gas fireplace, hardwood floors in the living room, dining room and hallway along with all tiled floors in the sunroom, 3 season porch (with EZ up windows) and laundry room/pantry area. There is also a outdoor patio perfect for grilli ng. The kitchen offers a breakfast bar and island with backsplash to match its perfect corian counter tops. Large Master Suite w/walk in closet, full shower and jet tub. This is a must see for anyone wanting everything and being so conveniently located to shopping, restaurants and beaches.

10 Fairway East Dr

Price: $329900

Beautifully maintained 3 bedroom 3 bath home in Golf Village adjacent to Sussex Pines Country Club. This southern colonial style has the best of always popular colonial style with all the modern amenities. A large downstairs master with two closets, shower, whirlpool tub and double vanities. It has a living room, foyer , and dining area with hardwood floors. The kitchen is modern with hardwood cabinets, stainless steel appliances and island. There is a large utility room as you enter from the garage.There is family room with a brick gas fireplace with storage and shelving. Just adjacent is a 3 season room with real windows providing and additional 220 square feet of living space not included in the total. Upstairs are two large bedrooms a bathroom and a 400 sq. foot heated and air-conditioned area with lots of light that has many uses. Walk down the back stairs to the garage and go out to the fenced in back yard with storage shed. Call to view this home today.

24615 Hollytree Cir

Price: $320900

Under Construction Now With Time to Pick all Your Colors!! This Lewes Floor Plan is Quickly becoming one of our Most Popular Models. Its Open and Split Floor Plan with Additional Office Appeals to a Wide Variety of Buyers. Photos are of the same model that has already been completed but new photos are coming soon. The Home Features a Full Basement, Fireplace, Concrete Patio, 10′ Ceilings, Granite Counter Tops, Tile, & Hardwood Floors, a Large Lot, and Many other Upgrades. Make your call today for an appointment to see one we already have constructed!!

237 Bedford St

Price: $119180

Welcome home! This adorable 4 bedroom, 1 bath rancher is full of potential and is located in town limits of Georgetown! Enjoy the convenience of being within walking distance to the town circle as well as less than 25 minutes away from the beaches! The large pole building with concrete floors is perfect for those looking for a garage and/or workshop or even just looking for extra storage space! A side deck, large fenced in yard, spacious eat in kitchen, large pantry and more! Schedule a showing today, this one won’t last long!

28 W North St

Price: $105545

Investor opportunity! This property was recently foreclosed by a bank or financial institution and is now available to purchase online at Auction.com ending 02-28-2017. Visit Auction.com now to view additional photos, Property Reports with title information, Plat maps with property lines and Interior Property Inspection Reports when available. Auction.com sells properties across the country online for financial institutions and government agencies who are very motivated to sell to investors. Don’t miss this special opportunity to buy homes at wholesale prices! In our online auctions and live Foreclosure Sales, Auction.com currently has 12 properties scheduled for sale in Sussex County and 38 throughout Delaware. All properties and sale details can be found with a simple search at Auction.com. Create a FREE account today to find more properties like this one, save searches of properties that meet your investment criteria and have the properties you’re looking for emailed directly to you when posted in an upcoming sale event. To view the complete details of this exact property, click the Auction.com link below or paste the Property ID 2340416 into the search bar at Auction.com

Wilson Rd

Price: $117900

This Property is Secluded and is Approx. 1900 Ft. from Wilson Road and is Surrounded Mostly by State Forest Land. There is an Easement Provided for Access to the Property. Perfect for Hunting, Camping or a Secluded Home Site.

24569 Beaver Way

Price: $335000

Excellent condition! Enjoy the serenity in this 5 bedroom, loft, and 3 full bath home, featuring a first floor Master Suite,GRANITE countertops, STAINLESS STEEL APPLIANCES, open floor plan, in a quiet neighborhood. Elegant features such as crown molding. Ashburn built home that is turn key.

22075 Breasure Rd

Price: $284900

Move-In Ready!!! This 4 bedroom, 3 bath Cape Cod has been freshly painted and has new carpet, vinyl, new appliances, heat pumps and more! Enjoy all the space this home has to offer as well as the large amount of space you’ll have outdoors as well! Home is located on over an acre of land and is on a back road but is also conveniently located close to the town of Georgetown and Millsboro! A 2 car attached garage, a shed in the backyard, a 1st floor master bedroom with a full master bath and more are waiting for you to see! Schedule a showing today, this one won’t last long!!! This is a Fa nnie Mae HomePath Property.

21460 Park Ave

Price: $239900

You don’t get this deal very often so don’t wait it will be gone! Situated on 2.26 Acres right outside Georgetown on Park Avenue this Brick home with a 4 car detached garage is ready for your family. New Paint throughout out, new carpet throughout, additional rooms created from original garage area, master first floor, exposed beam ceiling in living room, Wood burning Fireplace. Sets off the main road for your privacy. Call now to see this awesome property.

211 Old Laurel Rd

Price: $95000

Two Bedroom / One Bath single family home in Georgetown . Quiet Street. Great investment property! Newly updated bathroom, shed and back deck.

21833 Hickory Dr

Price: $60000

Ranch style home offering 3 bedrooms/1 full bath. Needs TLC. Close to 113 for easy commuting to the beach or north.

18073 Redden Rd

Price: $65100

3 Bed/2 Bath dwelling on just over an acre. The property provides more than 1,200 square feet of living area. Mobility ramp. Bright kitchen. Come and see if this property is right for you. The homes in this area are separated by trees- more privacy for you.

32 Clover Dr

Price: $259900

SPARKLING HOME. Feel the warmth of this mint condition home with major upgrades and improvements throughout! Gorgeous, light-filled home with open floor plan features a welcoming foyer open to the second story, spacious living room with gas fireplace, upgraded country kitchen with walk-in pantry, large first floor master suite, oak staircase, huge 2-car attached garage with built in shelving and attached garden shed with ramp for ample, easy storage, a worry-free conditioned crawl space, and so much more! Enjoy warmer weather from either the wrap-around front porch or from the multi-lev el rear deck with awning situated in the generously-sized and private fenced backyard. Located in a tranquil in-town community, only a few blocks away from the Circle, and only a short drive to Route 1 and the beaches.

6 Patterson Dr

Price: $59000

Being sold “AS-IS” but with a small investment could be that get away near the beaches you’ve been looking for.

17991 Murphy Ln

Price: $135000

Cute as a button and ready for new owners! Charming rancher features a large living room, 2 ample sized bedrooms with hardwood flooring, and an updated bath. The kitchen opens to the dining area featuring a built in corner cabinet. A new septic system will be installed at time of settlement. The north Georgetown location makes commuting north or south a breeze and you are only a short drive to the Delaware beaches. This one is really too cute to pass up! Make your appointment today!

309 Sussex Central Dr

Price: $199900

Impeccably maintained 3 bdrm, 2ba home on corner lot just outside of Cinderberry in Georgetown. Open floor plan has gorgeous natural light flowing throughout the open floor plan. New fridge, deep closets, generous sized bdrms, remodeled master bath. Mature landscaping, adorable shed with electric, and Azek deck outside. Energy efficient heat pump with gas backup. Schedule your showing today before its gone!

26416 Fells St

Price: $249900

GREAT STARTER HOME! This 3 bedroom, 2 bath home situated on a large lot is a perfect first home. Home features spacious, single level living, split bedroom floor plan, rear deck and huge back yard great for summer entertaining. Call today!

from Houses For Sale – The OC Home Search http://www.theochomesearch.com/houses-for-sale-in-georgetown-de/ from OC Home Search https://theochomesearch.tumblr.com/post/157997636735

[ohsoshutter]

Top Ranked 3 Types Of Window Treatments

Today, you can easily divide window treatment into three different categories:-

1.     Hard window treatment – that is made from material like wood and vinyl, for example, shades and shutters.

2.     Soft window treatment – for example, drapes, swags, and roman shades.

3.     A combination of both – named as a layered window treatment.

The Hard Window Treatment

Nowadays you can attach window shutter with hinges – so they can easily be opened and shut. You can use shutter made from wood and plastic. Shutter may be employed for a variety of reason, including control the sunlight, privacy, security, and protection against weather conditions. 

 The Woven Wood Shades

The woven wood shades are often called bamboo shades or matchstick shades. They offer a natural exotic and great add textured, good casual look for any door. The woven wood shade offer complex textures as well. 

 The Cellular Shades

This type of shades is unique and maximizes energy efficiency and insulate home in a better way. You can find cellular shade in a single cell, double cell, and triple cell. 

 Lastly, there are a plethora of options when it comes to choosing a window shutter and shades. You can use any of the above shade to add value to your home. 

[ohsoshutter]

Indeed, our homes are meant to relax our minds and keep us away from all the hustles of the outside world. The growing population and the honking of the vehicles on the roads have made things a little uncomfortable. Hence, it is understandable for people wanting their homes to be soothing and quiet.

In urban areas where noise pollution is unbearable, customized wooden plantation shutters are of great help. Installation of these shutters can significantly bring down the impact of outside noise into the house.

[ohsoshutter]

Combining the features and benefits of Full -height and cafe style shutters, the tier-on-tier shutters are gaining popularity with each passing second. There is a plethora of pros and cons of tier-on-tier Wooden Plantation Shutters that can help you decide if these shutters are the right choice or not.

[ohsoshutter]

What Things to Consider While Choosing Shutters for your Kitchen

Kitchens are one of the most lived in places in the whole house. You have to make sure that your kitchen is a functional yet pleasant area. If you have got tired by working in the same-ole bland kitchen and immediately need a revamp, then wooden plantation shutters are a perfect solution. They can provide an ideal touch to any kitchen remodel. Not only do they bring out the elegance, but they are also fantastic at offering privacy and preventing an excess of light from entering inside.

 Something about Plantation shutters

Durability, functionality, the ease of cleaning make plantation shutters an absolute perfect choice of window dressing in your kitchen. They even provide the flexibility of choosing the louvers of the screens depending upon the amount of light you require.

 Reasons for choosing shutters over drapes, especially for your kitchen

You can conveniently lower down or raise the louvers of the shutters to control the exact amount of light you wish to enter.

Unlike  drapes, they do not fade over time as they come with a UV protectant or sealant.

They are easy to clean and dust.

Shutters tend to keep out the extreme cold and hot temperatures.

You can bifold or swing your shutter panels to control the light that enters the kitchen.

 Best shutter styles for the kitchen

 Cafe style Brighton shutters are one of the most popular kinds of shutters used in the kitchens. These are designed in a way that they cover the lower part of the window and still allow sufficient light to come from the upper portion. You can get plantation shutters for your kitchen which has a mid-rail in a full-height shutter. This would provide you with the flexibility of controlling the upper and the lower louvers separately.

 The best-suited colour

You can never go wrong with the bright white color. They bring out the elegance and brighten the room along with complementing any decor. No matter what color your kitchen cabinets are of, stunning white shutters can easily blend in and even offer a striking contrast.  

 Customizing your shutters

With countless designs of shutters available to choose from, it can become extremely perplexing the right one for your kitchen. If you do not find any design best suited for you, Then you can always customize Plantation shutters Brighton according to your taste and requirements.

 Summing it all up

In case you have to prepare food and talk to your guests at the same time, your kitchen should be maintained in a very presentable manner. The furniture, including the cabinets and the setting, must exhibit your elegant personality. Beautifully designed shutters act as a cherry on the cake. Therefore, you ought to choose shutters carefully before installing them.

[ohsoshutter]

Tips For Choosing Eye- Catching Windows Shutters

The fascinated window shutters might makeover the look of your home. The house windows can have different types of window shutter in a variety of colors, sizes, and shapes. The exterior appearance of the windows stops passersby from taking a second look at a particular home, whereas the interior ventilation and appropriate lighting maintains the ambience of the rooms. Choose Os sho Shutter to get service of window Shutters in Lewes.

You can adorn your windows with various types of shutters. Let’s have a closer look at them:

Full height Shutters

Full height shutters fit in the dark areas of the room where there is less light. As these shutters have a modern style, they can give a pleasing look to the window.

Café Style Shutters

They cover half of the window and are used for proper ventilation and maintaining privacy in the room. Also, they allow the cool breeze to come in

Tier on Tier

Tier on Tier shutters comes in two partitions dividing the window in two parts. The clean lines and classic simplicity with natural materials create a layered style which provides an enhanced method to the window.

Solid Panel

While choosing the window shutters, you must keep the size of the windows in mind and also the purpose. Solid panel window shutters are designed to perfectly match your home’s style and geographic region and fit your windows’ shape and size.  

Tracked Shutters

The perfect choice if you’re thinking of re-imagining more massive windows or glass doors, track shutters provide ultimate light control. They add privacy to patio doors or long windows in your home.

Custom Shaped Shutters

In every home, there are corners and some space with an irregular shape. The custom-shaped shutters are best for such a place, and they can help in covering the area with perfect spacing.

Oh So Shutters are providing excellent service from initial discussions to measurement to the installation of blinds. Get to know more about us!

[ohsoshutter]

Oh So Window Shutters Lewes offer versatility in light, ventilation and privacy only not possible with curtains or blinds. Each shutter is bespoke and made-to-measure to complement  the architecture of the window, from small to big size matching the color of the hinge, and fitted by our highly specialist team to the most exacting standards.

[the-headbop-wraith]

1_14 Flare Ups

The ancient factory had been built in a portion of the town where vision had failed to flourish, while at the time traffic had moved so naturally in other developments and the town had forgotten of former allies.  Roads surrounded the large of brick and steel monolith basking in the last carpet of light, the color of the air that had been so vibrant when on the other side of town now took a drab gray tone despite the fervent strokes of the diving sun.  On the opposing sides of the factory roads sat a forest still trembling at the edge of industrial expansion, the other third of the territory beyond the old roads was invaded by large plots of land trampled for new venues. These temporarily abandoned construction zones where the roots of delicate architecture of steel beams and cement slabs sat, boarded by chain-link fences made statement for new growth rising from the ashes of destruction as the phoenix rose from its incineration.

A few vehicles, Arthur counted five, passed the van as it made its way down the road.  The occasional crinkle of a wrapper and munching of the cookie came from the back, but there was otherwise little sound from the group as they made their second trip to the factory.  Lewis had the passenger side window down and was leaning out checking the perimeter around, before Arthur turned off the main road to take the single lane path that ran around up the backside of the factory and to the thick gate that surrounded the plant.  Soft whines came from Mystery in the back and coos from Vivi as she hushed the dog.  

The sun was falling faster and faster behind the distant hills and quivering tree lining, by the time Arthur brought the van to a halt beside the gate that surrounded the factory.  He parked amongst tall trees and brush that tore through the rusted bars of the gate, but Arthur felt there was no danger of the vehicle being discovered or bothered while they were this far out from the main town.

Low ticks twittered from the engine of the van, once the ignition was cut.  Without a word Arthur shoved the driver side door open and slipped out to inspect the falling dusk, and rising blues in the brisk cool air.  Dust gravel and earth was rich on the breeze, dry leaves rattled over the bare path, and the familiar aroma of cheap old grease hung thick. The factory marinated in the memories and ill influence, of those that had once loathed its callous structure.  As he moved along the vans side to the back, he looked up through the branches of the trees and saw the last light of sun gleaming orange and red from the few remaining windows in set beyond the great height of the distant gray wall.

The back doors creaked open and Vivi poked her head out.  “Got a light?” she asked, and clicked on a flashlight. She held it out to Arthur and he took it.

“Got my bag?” Arthur caught it when Vivi slung it his way.  “I’m… being sabotaged,” he said, as his metal arm fumbled to twist the correct way through the arm strap.  Vivi assisted by carefully turning his arm further back, and spun Arthur around to reach through the strap proper.  “Thanks.”

From the front of the van Vivi caught the sudden slam of passenger door, followed by the faint crunch of rock underfoot.  “Can you carry a bag, Lew?”  She slid out one more bag with her, and turned to check the eyes glinting behind the sunglasses.

“Yeah, give it here.” He took the offered bag, and stepped back as the odd patter of legs joined them.  Mystery sprang out of the open back and when he hit the ground, gave a hard shake, as dogs do.  His collar jingled as the hound worked out the loose hair and wrinkles in his muscles. Lewis saw the red eyes turn and look at him, before Mystery spun away and trotted over to Arthur.  “Anything else?” Lewis asked, as he looked into the van.

“This should be everything,” Vivi answered.  She moved away as Arthur returned, and slammed the back doors of the van shut.  For a moment, Vivi fiddled with her backpack turning it around at her side and pulling, before she pulled out the camera.  A bright flash went off and she lowered the camera and scanned through the images, her feet moving as she began leading.  “C’mon Mystery.  I know you don’t like the shoes, but it’s just for a few hours.”

Lewis smiled as he watched Mystery pad after Vivi.  As everything done to him by his companions, Mystery endured it well.  But he made them aware just how much he disliked wearing little dog shoes, even if they were the most fashionable black that Vivi could find, they still looked ridiculous.  Even for a spirit as free as Mystery was, broken pieces of metal and dust coated glass was not worth weeks of sore, infected paws.

The group spread out as they moved along the rusted gate.  Weeds and large trees had jutted through the bars of the fence, which had time ago surrounded the welding plant back in its prime. In the unlikely event of visitors Lewis had parked off the road, several yards away from the main gate entrance that led into the plants open loading yards.  Over the years the entrance gate had corroded and fallen partially off its hinges, and no doubt many had entered the factory through this way.  There was a small path formed in the gravel among the weeds, and the Mystery Skulls used it just as well to enter.  Vivi viewed it as good luck omen, and that many before them had used the path to come and go safely from the factory, so of course they would too.  Thought, it just as well meant a minor danger of unwanted company in the factory, but due to rumors of hauntings it was a higher possibility that no one would risk a night time visit.

Corrupted asphalt ended at the chipped and worn cinder blocks, stretching further into the sky than the naked eye could see.  The day before the group had spent the first hour or two of the night hunting for a way in that they could all use, the group splint up in two separate direction and Arthur had eventually found an employee entrance near the utility shutters of the factories furthest side.  Arthur had made an effort to hide the fact he found the doors, until Lewis began prying.  The doors would be just around the corner of the building, and up a short set of cement steps.

Oil and grease permeated the air outside the factory, seeping through stones walls in its gradual escape.  It was too late in the year for crickets, but somewhere above a bird chattered out into the night, getting the last song of the evening harmonized before sleep.  Aside from their steps echoing with rich resonance off the sun bathed wall at their side, the air had a tranquil vapor that seemed to hover just over the groups shoulders.  It wasn’t haunting, more unwelcome but less of an ominous presence as result of the absence of the living.

Arthur stumbled in his step and turned his gaze off from the group and scanned over the open road that picked at their side.  He could just make out the amber outline of the vans roof through the trees and brush as the sun was falling and the air darkened around his eyes.  Vivi paused to look at him, but Lewis kept walking with Mystery following.  No one said a word, and once Arthur was done or felt better, he turned and resumed his march.

“Sometimes,” Arthur murmured, head lowered, “I swear, I sometimes hear things.”

Vivi walked beside him watching his downcast face.  “Voices?” she asked.  Arthur shook his head, somewhat timidly.  “What then?”  Arthur raised his shoulder and dropped them, but made no comment.  Vivi pressed no more questions, but hurried in her steps.

The factory was a tall, single story.  Lewis had already pushed the door in and was entering the near black atmosphere that pooled within the oily walls.  He could detect the high ceiling and the ancient shutters, where light and wispy clouds formed above the broken spaces in the ceiling.  Steel beams crisscrossed in jagged rusted pyramids, and cables or frayed electrical cords hung down in tatters from above.  Large drums and tanks dotted the large floor below, a few of te long industrial tables stretched across the concrete expanse. Rusted and broken tools remained on top, and even a few leaves from the outside world had fluttered within. Footsteps scrapped at his back, and Lewis jerked away as Vivi and Arthur crept in.

Vivi clicked on her flashlight and ran the cold blue beam over the gray and crusty tools – Bunsen cords, metal rods, sheets of metal, all crumbling into the cement floor.

“I think I saw the office,” Arthur began.  He shielded his eyes when Vivi turned to him, nearly catching his face with her flashlight.  “I’m not sure, I didn’t actually go into it.”  He snapped on his own flashlight and turned the yellow beam down on Mystery, as the dog led the way.  “Unless that ghost made a point to hint about where we’re supposed to go.”

“No,” Vivi said, as she began following Arthur.  “Let’s see what you found first.”

It was some distance through the factory, towards the front side. Along the way Arthur would breathe onto his knuckles and rub at his bad shoulder with his free hand.  At odd intervals Vivi would lift the camera and take a picture, and occasionally she would share her find with someone, most the time it was Lewis as he would prompt first.  Arthur didn’t like to be reminded of the things he couldn’t readily see. Mystery pad alongside the group and sometimes barking at a distant shape huddled beside a wall or large tank, shadows lurking that Vivi missed, or Mystery would pause and turn his attention into a particular direction and perk his ears high.

“That looks like the office,” Arthur had said, when they reached the bottom steps that rose to a higher story.  It wasn’t so much a higher story as it was a small apartment that overlooked a large open section of the lower chamber.  Arthur estimated this portion of the layout was designed in mind for the more important, high key projects.  Ruble had fallen to the floor from the underside, and when they reached the top landing they could identify a large cracked window further back from the railing that would view across the open floor below.  What glass remained was cracked and coated in a thick film, and the rusted frame was bent at jagged angles within the mortar wall.

Somehow throughout the years the door had remained locked, or rusted shut.  The group ventured into the low ceiling alcove, Vivi trying the door before she stepped aside and shined her light on the doors knob.  “Arthur, can you?”

Arthur stepped up and slumped off his backpack, he rubbed a finger over the tarnished plate illuminated in the blue light and hummed to himself.  Mystery padded up to sit beside Arthur, as Arthur rummaged through the sack and pulled out a chisel and hammer.  “Can you move a little to my left?” the mechanic asked.  “Other left.  Thanks.” Arthur put the chisel beside the plate in the doorframe and gave a few sharp blows.  When the plate came off, Arthur examined the interior of the lock and deadbolt.  Lewis watched as Arthur went back to his backpack, and pulled out a sharp pick. Lewis looked away as the harsh blows came, then a click.  “Got it.” Arthur shoved the door with his shoulder until it inched open, a peeling squeal came from the rusted hinges as he moved the stubborn metal panel.  Vivi moved beside Arthur and helped him wrestled the door open enough that they could slip through.

“Whoa, watch it,” Vivi said, as they stepped into the office.  Several steps from the door and beneath the window was a large hole, at its depths was the carnage of ruble they had viewed on the ground below.  “Careful where you step,” she further cautioned, as she crossed the spacious room. “Lew, can I have that bag now?”

Lewis had stepped into the room and was looking down into the open wound of the collapsed floor, and onto the broken teeth of ruble staring up at him.  “Yeah, here,” he said, and passed the bag over.  He turned and stared into the swirling murk and dull rust, before he turned away.  “I don’t think I’m gonna be much help,” he admitted, as he watched Vivi explore around the room.  

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.  “You can light candles, can’t you?”  Vivi held up one of the tall cheap white candles sticks she bought in bulk.

Lewis looked at it, and smirked as he looked past the candle to Vivi. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea either.”  He caught Arthur’s movement, as Arthur glanced over unaware his stare was caught. Lewis broke his gaze and snapped to attention, when a small camping lamp was tossed his way from Vivi.  The lamp almost popped out/through Lewis hands as he grabbed for it.

“Turn that on, then,” she said, before she stepped over to Arthur with a collection of candles bunched together in one fist.  Lewis turned the small lamp on and the bright LED covered the immediate area where Vivi had elected where they would begin their work. Vivi pointed out the broken wall scattered over the floor, and Arthur took out a stiff little brush to sweep away the larger bits of dust and rocks.  As they submerged themselves in the routine, Lewis saw it fit to set the lamp down on the only available surface, the floor, and gave the room a fleeting scan.

The office was spacious despite its deterioration, enough that the group was not bumping into each other as they worked around.  A side wall of the office had fallen across the room, large chunks of rusted metal and concrete made for an interesting stand for a section of the little shrine Vivi had constructed.  She had two notebooks out on the floor and alternated between flipping through the separate pages, and marked shapes onto the flat sides of cement that were available as well as on the floor itself with a piece of graphite. Arthur had the lighter and was pressing wax down and fixing candles where Vivi directed.  The little electric lamp placed near their workspace covered the area with soft white light, shimmering occasionally as Mystery paced the floor back and forth eagerly watching the work of his companions.  At some point Mystery seated himself down and continued to supervise, as Vivi sets out a thin silver dish and places a bundle of sage on that between two burning candles.

Lewis moves away and again finds himself looking down through rebar and wood of the broken floor.  It ebbed something in him that he didn’t want to feel, but he couldn’t avert his gaze. The rugged folded edges helped, made it seem less intimidating.  He focused on the dark that was reaching, clawing to his limbs and chest.  Until there was movement.  Another ghost below, looking up at him.  Lewis watched the other, and the other spirit stares back up appearing much like a living person, but for those eyes.  Lewis was about to ask a question, when the ghost dissolved from sight, body first followed by the polished ribs.

“Have you started yet?” Lewis inquired.  He turns to Vivi as she shakes her head.  “Right.  We might be gathering an audience.”  But there was no indication where the other spirit had gone, or why it appeared.  He doubted that was Fritz, though he had no reason to have an opinion yet.  Lewis backed away from the broken floor, the weightless and dislocation that mingled in his core becoming unbearable.  He looked to Vivi and Arthur as they mingled about in perfect unison and felt a mild pang, a whisper of disassociation twisting about their presence.  As if he had become a spectator watching some scene unfold. The notion made him uneasy and Lewis felt the urge to say something, even a stupid comment about how nice Vivi’s hair looked with the shadows hovering over her, but he couldn’t.  The lamp beside Lewis dimmed, and he moved across the room away from it as Vivi and Arthur glanced up.

“We’re ready to start,” Vivi announced.  “Are you okay, Lew?”

He nods, as he spun around to look at the lamp and distract himself from the symbols shimmering under the light.  His voice popped and sputtered before he managed a word. “Yes.  Just, the other spook.”  He intertwined his fingers and set his hands together in front of him.  

Vivi nodded and turned back to her work.  “Just say anything,” she said as invitation.  “Don’t leave me in the dark.  Got it?”  Lewis tilts his head towards her and nodded.  Satisfied by this, Vivi moved to position herself behind the small circles drawn on the floor in front of the cracked slabs of concrete, where the rust and dust had been brushed away for more figures etched with graphite.  Vivi moved her backpack off her shoulders and opened it up.  Arthur moved to just behind one side of her shoulder, and Mystery placed himself a little behind and between Arthur and Vivi.  “Could you come join us, then?”  From her backpack Vivi pulled out another candle from her seemingly endless inventory, and a bundle of cloth.  Lewis watches as Vivi unwraps the cigarette tin from the cloth as he moves to stand near the group.  Vivi shoves the provision backpack aside, out of the way and Arthur leans over to hand her the lighter.

“Does the air feel a lot colder?” he asked.  Arthur glanced around, and coils down into his vest.  “I mean it.  It feels a lot colder than that other night we were here.”  He blows into his hands again and rubs at his shoulder.

“You really need to consider just wearing your sleeves down,” Vivi remarks.  She shuffles the cloth and candle into one hand, and with a piece of graphite in her other hand, Vivi marks a rune on the floor and sets the cigarette tin on the symbol. “It’s not good for you to get sick all the time.”  She sets the cloth aside, then takes the candle and lights the wick.  

“We’re calling, Fritz Owen,” she begins, initiating the séance. Vivi drops melting wax from the candle onto the cement beside the sage on the dish and sets the candle down on the edge of the circle between the cigarette tin and the unlit sage.  “Fritz Owen.  We would like to speak to you if possible.  We insist you make your presence known.”  She turns the backpack over in order to reach a side pocket and slips the lighter inside, and paused briefly when a distant clatter occurs. Slowly, Vivi pulls the camera from the bag and over onto her lap where she sits.  She glimpses over her shoulder up to Lewis, and then resumed, “We have an item you once owned in life.  Are you not compelled by our call?”  Vivi focuses on the tranquil burn of the candlelight glistening off the marred side of the tin.

Arthur shifts where he’s seated on his knees.  He looks over as Mystery sets his paw on his thigh, and Arthur reaches over to the dog’s neck and gives him a scratch.  There is no draft in the musty office, the candle flames burn steady in the absence of disturbance and thought.  But the air… shifts, or changes.  He can feel that, the sense of it is uncanny as it bore into his spine. Arthur’s certain the shadows at the edges of the light have thickened, as if the grease that clung to the air was now swelling into something… irritated.  He feels a tickle in his spin and trembles.  “God, it is cold.”  Vivi hushes him.

“Would you like to borrow my sweater?” she asks.  Arthur shakes his head.  Lewis is looking at him again.

“Focus, Vi,” Lewis says, instead.

“Right, right, I got this.”  Vivi takes a deep breath, and resumes, “We know about you, Fritz Owen. You worked in the welding factory sometime during in the 1920s.  You had a wife and a child,” she says, and paused.  There was another sound, somewhere, a far off clatter echoed.  She couldn’t discern if it was the sound of the factory decaying, or some animal scurrying around in the rafters overhead. She heard Arthur shudder, but ignored him.  “Your wife, or someone close to you, gave you an item of sentimental value.  We now have that possession.  Will you not show yourself?”  All is quiet, even the hiss of the candles compliant to the flat air have a no perceivable trill.

Arthur stiffens.  A voice, barely audible but he could make out the echo on the words.  No one, not even Mystery gazing off into the dark shattered wall of the connecting room, reacts to the utterance.  “You guys,” he murmurs.  “Guys.  Vivi. Did you hear that?  Please tell me you heard that?”

The answer is unanimous between Vivi and Lewis.  “No,” “Nada.”  And Vivi goes on to ask, with interest, “What’d you hear?”

Arthur shakes his head, and takes his hand from Mystery’s shoulders to rub at his own neck.  “1924,” he said.  “Something about 1924, I think.  That’s all I heard.”  Arthur brings both arms up to rub at his shoulders, and the soreness in his remaining left arm.

Lewis didn’t like this.  He scanned the room over but could detect nothing, and saw nothing evident in the shadows.  All he felt was the pull, and the urge to get away from the writing on the floor.  It was suggestions and nothing more he reminds himself, but it made him uncomfortable.  It could as easily be his sense of nerves and reflections as anything, but he wouldn’t attribute it to ‘phantom’ paranoia.  Or was it because there was another seeking?  Was Fritz hiding because of him?

“What would that mean?” Arthur whimpered.  “1924?”

Vivi ponders over the date.  “Well, that was during the Roaring twenties.  When Fritz would have lived and would be working,” she said, pondering. “It was considered one of the best times to be an American.  A lot of cultural mingling, jobs, the economy was booming.”  Vivi’s voice became quiet.  “Up until the Crash of Wall Street.  But that has nothing to do with Fritz.”  She looked over at Arthur briefly, then looks back to the cigarette tin as if to speak with it directly.  “Fritz Owen. Did you die in 1924?”

Even before Vivi had finished her question, Arthur was fidgeting and looking around.  “You heard it that time, right?” he asks, pulling his arms tighter around his sides. “I’m not going crazy?”

“You’re not going crazy,” Lewis says, tilting towards Arthur. “The spirit just chose you for some reason to transition answers.”  

Arthur gave a low whine in his throat.  “WHY?  I am the worst person!”

Lewis looks away, toward the dark section of the open adjacent office Mystery had remained focused on.  “I won’t disagree,” he mutters.

Arthur glares at Lewis, and sinks down into his vest collar a little. “That was an unnecessary comment.” Lewis shrugs showing his palms, and folds his hands behind his back.

“Art, focus,” Vivi said.  She tugs on Arthur’s shoulder to get his attention.  “What’d the spirit say?”

Arthur blinks at her.  “No.  Just… ‘no.’ I guess he didn’t die in 1924?” Arthur winces when Mystery leans into his side, pressing into his bad shoulder.  “Hey bud.”

“Okay,” Vivi says, and rubs her hands together.  She raises her hands near one of the candles and resumes. “Fritz Owen.  When did you die?  Do you remember how?” Vivi begins massaging her palms together, until Lewis crouches beside her and takes her hands in his.  “Anything, Arthur?”

Arthur shakes his head as he glances around.  “No voice,” he says.  “No… sound.”  Arthur looks away from Vivi and Lewis.  “What!”

Lewis glances up in the direction Arthur is staring, and sees a gray shadow in the furthest side of the room gazing back.  Arthur flops to his side and scoots away from the candles glow and the marks on the floor, as the dark shape drifts further into the room. The shade stops to stare at the four, its bright eyes going over each in turn.  It is vaguely shapeless and more like a dirty sheet, a soft white glow comes from its chest.  It moves closer to the cluster, much to Arthur’s dismay, and sways back then lowers to the floor where it seems to sink down into the cement.  Its bright eyes continue to stare around at them, as the candle light wavers across its pale contrast against the dark gloom lingering around the electric lamp.

“That’s,” Vivi begins, edging out of Lewis hands.  “That isn’t Fritz, is it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the small shroud as it bobbed up out of the floor.

Lewis glares at the little spirit as it glides up and seems to examine the display of melting candles set out on the cement and broken slabs littered around them.  “I don’t… no, it isn’t,” he says.  The spirits glimmering chest pulses in time with the locket hidden under his sweater, but otherwise the nondescript takes no interest in his presence at all.  “I think he’s just curious.”  He shuffles on his knees, but stops himself from rising when he notes the cigarette tin and markings on the floor.  “Or maybe just scoping us out.  He might be a friend to Fritz.”

When Vivi reaches out to the gray shade, the spirit drifts towards her.  The candles flutter under the spirit as glides backwards from her hands.  With a flutter of its shadowy edges and a sputter from the lamp, the ghost rises up and fades into the ceiling above.  Arthur stares up until the shadow is gone, then heaves a thick breath.

“Fritz Owen,” Vivi goes on, with a small sigh.  “Do you plan to appear before us?  Will you talk to all of us, and not just our friend?  That is very rude.”

Mystery perks his ears and moves away from Arthur’s curled up body. Mystery stares past Vivi to the window and gives a yap.  There’s a sound of snapping, followed by a dull clatter as a a small section of the window cracks out of the marred and twisted frame.  Lewis stands up but doesn’t move from his spot, in response to his movement the candles sway and dance causing the thick shapes mingling over the floor and walls to quiver under his presence.  He sees nothing and no further activity was made apparent.

“Are you with us now, Fritz Owen?” Vivi questions.  She looks up to Lewis when he looks back at her, and Vivi shakes her head.  Lewis turns away, and Vivi continues, “We are calling you, Fritz Owen.  You are compelled to obey.”

The dull air holds its countenance, but there is something new. A change in the thickness of the oppressive atmosphere, as if the factory had come alive for a brief and silent moment to expel a long lost sigh of decay.  What glass that had fallen through the collapsed floor crinkles, tinkling down over rebar and wood.

Mystery gives another bark, right as Arthur shrieks.  In the furthest corner of the room, near where the nondescript shade had manifested, now stood a dark figure cloaked by the shadows repelled by the light.  The spirits eyes glint white deep in its dark eye sockets, gray hair is stylized in an undercut and the longer top upon the scalp is combined back.  A portion of the suit around the shoulders has faded revealing bleached bones, and a white heart pulses dimly over the dark tatters draped over the ribs.  The exposed remains of bone are coated in a black cloak of ravels that seem to seep from the shadows among the figure.  What is most terrible about this apparition is the ugly frayed rope around the lingering collar of the suit.  The remains of a noose.

Arthur is muttering, sinking down behind Vivi as she stares at the spirit in the corner.

“Why are you here, Fritz Owen?”  Vivi asks, unblinking.  “Why do you remain?”  

There is no sound, or none that can be heard.  The spirit soaks back into the shadows as if it had never been. In the distance a crash comes, audibly relatable to a large structure that was shoved over or thrown aside.  

Arthur calms down somewhat when he sees the shadow absent, and pokes his head up from where he was bent down.  “He says, he is not happy that we are here,” Arthur whispers, to Vivi. “He wants us to leave.”  

“Well,” Vivi huffs, “We’re not leaving until you make yourself more hospitable.  We had to buy KitKat’s and coffee beans, and we didn’t get to try any of them.”  She glanced around, but saw no indication of the spirit.  “After this though, we’re gonna try it.  Together. We were told it’s good, by your great-great-great grandson.”

“I think it’s just great-great grandson,” Arthur says.  He paused and frowned.  “Fuck.  I can taste chocolate and coffee!”  He licks his lips.  He couldn’t deny the rich flavor on his tongue, it was clearly there and on his breath. And….  “It’s… it’s kind of good, actually.”  Arthur smacks his lips.

Viv sniffs at the air, and looks over at Lewis standing near them. “I can smell coffee?” she said. “Like, from a bag.  Fresh beans.  It’s like I’m standing in a Starbucks.”  She beams at him.  “It’s so weird, one minute this place smells like grease and yuck, and now I’m craving coffee.”  She sniffs a little more and squeals, barely able to hold still.  “Incredible.”

Lewis makes no comment, but smiles.  This was a refreshing change.

“That’s very impressive, Fritz Owen,” Vivi continues. She adjusts her glasses on her nose, and shifts her legs on the grit digging uncomfortably into her knees. “We know you killed yourself in this office, Fritz Owen.  And we know what happened to cause you to do what you did.”

Mystery looks back at Arthur as he quivers and lowers down more, hiding his face beside his shoulder.  “‘You know nothing,’” murmurs Arthur.

Lewis looks over at the trembling figure, a warning sparked in him. He could feel Arthur, pick out the parts that were him and found nothing too distressing or mangled.  It was just Arthur being frazzled and spiked, but he didn’t like that part.  The tone his voice had taken.  “Try us,” Lewis hissed.  He looked away from Arthur and scanned the office over.  “Tell us.  But leave him alone.  You can talk to us, we’ll listen.”  The dark in the room seemed to pull back and lighten, but he wasn’t certain if the others had caught it.

“He… doesn’t want to,” Arthur says.  He leans up as Mystery pushes his nose under his chin.  “He doesn’t trust us.  I think it takes too much out of him.”  Mystery crawls over Arthur’s lap and looks into the far side of the room, where the two spirits had appeared from.

Something was different, something that Lewis had missed. A twinge of pain crept into Arthur, but faded out.  “I get it,” Lewis said, watching Arthur as he slumped down beside Vivi.  “He’s weak.  He can’t do much but lurk and talk.”  Something faded behind Arthur, a face and dark eyes glowering.  Lewis missed the glance Vivi shot his way. There was another resonance somewhere, a clang of hollow metal.  “Then you throw a tantrum.  You can’t even do it with us watching.”  Arthur makes a sound, a low groan as he huddles down.

Vivi looks away from Arthur and stares across the room.  She raises the camera up and flashes a picture. She stands up beside Lewis as she activates the image viewer, and shows the screen to him.  Something inside Lewis feels cold, as if his soul was squirming inside his ribs. From the broken ceiling beside the window dangles a noose, and a shadow hung from it.

“Cool,” Vivi murmurs.  Lewis says nothing.  The collective group winces when a chair crashes through the room from the adjacent office, and splinters against the floor close to where they stand.  On the other side of the room poised beneath the memory of the noose, the ghost hovers within the vacant wound in the floor.

“I want you to leave now,” it hisses.

It takes a beat for the collected to recover, and adjust to the reappearance of the spirit.  Arthur mumbles something under his breath, as Lewis shrugs off the rash incident.  “So, he speaks without a puppet,” he goads, crossing his arms over his chest.  Lewis smirks when Fritz glowers up at him.

“Talk to us for a bit,” Vivi offers, “And we’ll leave you alone. That’s all we want.”  She lowers the camera in her hands when the spirit turns his attention to her.  The spirit says nothing, just watches with its bright white eyes.  “Why are you here?” she prompts, when nothing is first uttered.

The spirit raises his shape above the broken floor and leans to one side. “Because you won’t stop calling me,” it said.  His focus falls to the marks on the floor, or perhaps the cigarette tin set there.  

“You know what I mean, Fritz Owen,” Vivi retorts.

“And stop using my full name,” Fritz says, gaze never leaving the floor near Vivi’s feet.  

She replies, “Only if you don’t leave.  Just answer our questions.”  Fritz fades somewhat as she takes another picture, and Vivi asks him to answer.  “Are you tethered?” she continues.  “Is there something we can help you resolve?”  

“There must be a reason,” Lewis picks up, and gestures to Frtiz. “Don’t you find it oppressive, waiting around this place?  Even if you didn’t die here?  But you did…. This can’t be by your choice.”

Fritz makes a sound, a cracked chortle.  “I do like it here.”  He raises himself to set his heels onto the edge of the wrecked floor and perched there, with his ragged arms folded behind his back.  He looks from Lewis to Vivi, Fritz’s eyes dim in their sockets. “That’s ALL you need to know.”

Arthur looks at Mystery when Mystery head bumps his bad shoulder gently.  The dog looks over his ambers glasses into Arthur’s eyes, and Arthur blinks as he turns to peer at the spook carefully.  

“This is where I belong,” Frtiz goes on.  “Call me sentimental, but I don’t want to leave for… whatever. It’s not that I’m afraid or anything, you understand.”  He drops his attention back to the tarnished metal case surrounded by the markings and candles.

“You’re lying,” Arthur mumbles.  Fritz peers beyond Vivi to Arthur.  “Viv, he’s lying.  He’s hiding something.”  Arthur sits up more as Mystery moves to stand in front of him.  

Vivi looks back to the spirit, and asks, “You wanna try again?” Without response Fritz dims out of sight.  Vivi sighs with exasperation.  “Fritz Owen,” she calls, partly to the floor, “we are not done here.  I’m calling you back, Fritz—” She’s shoved and falls backwards onto Arthur.  Mystery yelps when she tumbles over him, and he scrambles away barking at the shadows crawling around them when one of the candles tips over and rolls on the floor.

“Vi!”  Lewis spins and ducks down to grab her off Arthur.  Mystery is still snarling at lingering shrouds, and spitting at the odd shapes twisting on the broken ceiling above them.  “That was uncalled for,” he hissed, voice low and seething.  When he moves to pull Vivi up onto her feet, Fritz is standing there glaring down on the huddled group.  The noose hangs down the spirits bleached bone knit front, and the candlelight on the floor causes his shadow to stretch around them, outward from the black cloak slung around his glinting collar and shoulder blades.

“This is your last warning!” The spirit booms, eyes blazing. “Leave or I’ll give you a reason to run. No more questions.  No negotiations.  You’ll cling to that hope your lot makes it beyond these walls without me tied to your heels.”

Flames gush from Lewis collar when he twists away from Vivi on the floor, and he lunges up at the looming dark figure.  Magenta fire rolls from Lewis’ cuffs as he swipes out at Fritz, the sudden movement jostles the sunglasses off Lewis’ face and the glasses clatter to the floor at his feet as he rears up over the other spirit, eyes blazing from the pits of their black sockets.  Fritz recoils from the violent motion and smoothly perches a distance back from Lewis staring, a lack of comprehension evident in the bleached visage.

“You’ve done something,” Lewis says, standing between his group and the other entity.  Magenta embers crackle as they hover defensively beside his sizzling shoulders, blistering the poor edges of his blackened sweater.  “There’s a reason you’re stalling.  If you tell us, then maybe – and that’s a strained maaayybe – we’ll let you be.  But my strongest advice would be that you Do. NOT. Lie.”  Fritz says nothing, just stares at Lewis with an expression akin to unease.  After a terse pause the skull and bones fade from the room and Fritz’s presence is gone. “Damn it.”

“You okay?” Vivi asks.  She touches the pale patch of skin on Arthur’s head.  He brushes her hand off.

“Yes, still in one piece,” Arthur says, as he raises his prosthetic.  “Which is good.”  He takes Mystery by the collar as the mutt tries to pad by again, nervous and snuffling at the dust kicked up.  “Settle down, bud.  We’re okay.” Mystery wags his tail and leans up to lick Arthur’s face.

Vivi stands beside Lewis, still poised and tense facing the vacant air the other ghost had occupied.  She sets a wary hand on Lewis’ shoulder, gently.  “Hey?  He didn’t know you were a ghost?” she poses, and  prods at the scorch threads around Lewis’ neck and stares.

It took a while for Lewis to let his agitation diminish, and he turns to Vivi.  “Apparently,” he said, looking to the tatters of the sweater on his arm and the remains of his smoldered glove.  Vivi noticed his suite, now exposed through the open splotches in the sweater.

“How does that work?” she asked, looking up at his face.  In their recent travels, Lewis had neglected to remove any of his physical articles since visiting the Owen’s.  He hadn’t bothered or either forgot, the matter on its own was unimportant so long as Lewis could look human, or appear Alive, among other people.  Little by little it began to dawn on Vivi that she too had forgotten of Lewis unique state for a short while, if only briefly, though her focus had been diverted onto the séance.  The realization spread a tinge of guilty through her.

“I must be very convincing,” Lewis said, with a smirk. “And you were complaining I needed to recover faster.  I wasn’t even startled.”

“Yeah,” Vivi agreed, lost in her own thoughts.  “Fritz couldn’t see you coming.”  Recalling their current subject, she turned to Arthur and knelt beside him.  “Art, what was that?” she asked, setting a hand on his bad shoulder.  “Did someone talk to you?”

Arthur seemed to melt under her hand and lowered his head.  He set his flesh hand on Mystery’s shoulder and gently rocked the dog crouched beside him.  “The accidents,” he said, voice low.  “I was… I nearly forgot.  Remember? The one major incident that started it. The terrible accidents.”

Vivi looked away, to the cigarette case and the candle slowly going out beside it.  “Accidents,” Vivi repeats, as her mind gathers back the obscure details they had collected.  “1924. Faulty equipment following the… oh god.”  She stood up and turned to Lewis, holding her hands up, one hand still held the camera.  “The accidents,” she began.  “The worst, the freak accidents only happened after Fritz’s suicide.”

Lewis looks away, to the ugly ruin of a hole and the glimmering rebar and glass within.  “We don’t know that for sure,” he says.  “The equipment was old.  Even Fritz suffered injury from it.”

“He wouldn’t know any better,” Vivi said.  She ducks around trying to find Lewis eyes where they had diverted onto the floor.  “His family said he was… broken, mentally shot.  What does the loss of sight and hearing do to a person?  He killed himself in this room.  He can’t find peace on his own.”  Lewis winced at her words.  “He has to be expelled from here.  He can’t stay.”  Vivi takes his chin and pulls his face to meet her eyes.  “It’s not good for him, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Lewis answers.  Though, he turns away as Vivi slips to the floor beside Arthur and drags her bag close, she begins rummaging through bottles, some rolls of paper, and yet more candles.  He knows she’s taking stock, deciding what would be best implemented for expelling a spirit through exorcism.  Lewis isn’t certain what he feels, but he knows Vivi is right.  A wandering specter lost and confused was one matter, but a suicide was a whole other miasma of potential corruption and disaster.  But—

A low grinding sound came from overhead.  Mystery goes ballistic, barking and jerking at Arthur’s leg dragging him across the floor, despite the protests of Arthur trying to shield himself with his satchel.  Lewis jerks back grabbing Vivi and Arthur, while Mystery remains tangled with Arthur’s pants leg.  A strangled yelp wrenches from Arthur’s lungs, as Lewis slings the group aside. A section of the roof cracks and drops, pieces of cinderblock slam down over the chunks of wall across the floor and the cigarette tin, as with the Vivi’s personal bag that had been left in the panic.

Lewis turns back once he’s assured the others are wary of their surroundings, in the event of another attempt on their life.  “At least we didn’t promise to return the tin,” Lewis mutters.

Vivi’s expression of horror deflates as the dust settles, and the crackles of mortar fades.  “He’s definitely getting exorcised now.”  She creeps away from Lewis, the only light now available being the lamp still seated on the floor.  She stares at the pile of bricks as Lewis approaches, with Arthur and Mystery close behind him.  “This is going to be difficult without the anchor.”  She pulls the provision bag over her shoulder and ponders.  The lamp on the floor sputters, then goes out. “Shit.”  Mystery snorts when he sneezes in the dark, scaring Arthur a bit.

Arthur jerks his flashlight from his back pocket of his pants and clicks on the light.  He turns the yellow beam from Mystery, over to the wreckage and waves away a bit of the lingering silt.  “I say we call it a night,” he offers, and coughs.  Arthur slinks back when Lewis glares at him, eyes burning in the dark outline he stood within.  “Or not? Vi?  Back me up here.”

“The tin wasn’t an anchor,” Lewis said.  He folds his arms behind his back, and felt the odd unevenness of his covered arm and the tatters of the sweater on the other.  “It was a bind.  It’s wrecked now, we can’t use it.”  Lewis paused, as Vivi turns to him.  She had her flashlight on and was shining the soothing blue light just under his collar. “We’ll need something else.”  He knew what she was looking at now.

“Lew.  Go on,” Vivi encourages.  She didn’t know how hard this was for him.

“He’ll carry something HE cherished in life.  It’s,” Lewis hesitates, and glanced over the room when another sound, a tinkling echoed in the other open space of the office. “It’s not real, not in a physical sense. But to him it will be.”

Vivi nods.  “Okay,” she says.  “Then we should go and find Fritz, or whatever this thing is he cherished.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Arthur begins.

“I agree for once,” Lewis states.  “Beside, you don’t even—” Lewis’ voice rattles off, when Vivi pressed a finger to his lips.

“It’s the heart, right?” Vivi accuses.  She drops the flashlight from his collar, and takes her hand from his face.  “All the ghosts we’ve seen – every single one – even the deadbeats have one.  Don’t give me that look, Lew.  You were very protective of your heart when we first encountered you in your mansion.”

Lewis drew back from Vivi and raised a hand to his chest. “We’ll,” he mumbled, and his voice had the odd crackle to it.  “I can’t say yes or no.  But don’t take it lightly, Fritz will be more than willing to harm to keep you away from it.”

“I know,” Arthur says.  And Lewis looks at him and can see Arthur’s eyes quite clearly, and Lewis detects something pacifying in Arthur’s aura.  “That part you don’t remember.”  The statement is missed by Lewis, but he nods slowly as it comes back. Arthur remembers and it’s a sensation Lewis tries to remove himself from.

“That’s good enough,” Vivi said, as she looked between Lewis and Arthur.  “Then let’s go.”  Lewis reaches over and takes her arm.  She wrenches her arm back out of his grip.  “No Lew!”

“You’re not going to look for him, I am!” Lewis’s voice echoed, the resonance clipping over the walls in the office.  Vivi opened her mouth to protest, but Lewis raised himself more and cut off her voice.  “This guy wrecks walls, and tampers with machinery,” Lewis goes on with harsh chatters, his eyes brightening within the dark pits of his eye sockets.  “Remember those gremlins?  This’ll be ten times worse.”

Arthur cringes beside Mystery and pulls the dog close to him. “Let’s just let them duke it out, huh?” Mystery opens his mouth to pant, his breath misting in front of his face. A few times Lewis tried to turn Vivi around or grab Vivi, and she would shove Lewis back and Arthur would wince.  As this went on, Arthur sighed and pressed his face into the dog’s fur.  He says, “Sometimes I think you’re the only one that understands me.”  Mystery yaps.

Lewis tries to put his hands on Vivi’s shoulders.  “I don’t—” Vivi swats his hands away, and he retreats that time.

“Lew!”  Vivi snaps, and sets her free hand over the locket hidden under the sweater.  “He’s sacred of you.  He’s weak and scared of us all.  He can’t harm us unless we let him, and we won’t.  Right Arthur?”  

 Arthur perks up from cuddling Mysery and nods.  “Yes?  Wait, no!” He tries to stand, and slips back to his knees beside Mystery.  “He’s dangerous Viv!”

“One collapsed ceiling!” she sneered.  “Whoop De Doo!  I’ve seen worse!  WE’VE dealt with worse!”  Arthur goes quiet and doesn’t comment.  Vivi turns back to Lewis.  “I am not going to let you go out there and do this on your own!  I won’t.  I watched you do that once, and if I can help it I will not sit by and watch you do that again!  Do you understand what I’m saying?”  Lewis lowered his hands from Vivi as she heaved a few gasps and collected herself. “Now listen here,” she resumed, voice calmer, “Fritz will play keep away, because he doesn’t belong here and he knows it!  He’s broken. We’ll find that artifact, and perform the exorcism in this room.”  

Lewis looks away.  Maybe. Maybe she is right.  Maybe.  He couldn’t say no to her face now.  The sensation crept back into him, dislocation and weightless in an essence that troubled his tangible shape.  Lewis crackles, and speaks, “You’re right.  But, give me a second.”  He leaves Vivi and returns to the ruble of the roof that had fallen over the floor and the marks Vivi had carefully laid down.  The floor shifts not from his weight, but from the blocks of bricks and wood he shoves away until he uncovers a section of the floor.  “Arthur,” Lewis said, and beckons with a finger.  “I need your hands for a moment.”  

Arthur glances from Vivi to Mystery.  He stands and shuffles over to Lewis.  “It’s nothing dangerous, right?”  Arthur scuttles back when the floor creaks under his weight, he gives Lewis feet a look where Lewis is poised, weightless, beside the wreckage.

“I’m right here,” Lewis said, and beckons with his hand.  “Just get the tin out.”  He hovers back as Arthur, still jittery, peers into the opening in the cement chunks.  Arthur uses his flesh arm to reach through the pinned stones and without much trouble he wrenched free the shattered halves of the warped tin.  “It’s broken?  Good.  Hold up the pieces separately and close your eyes.”

Arthur gives Lewis a distrustful scowl.  “What?  Why?”

Lewis’ eyes brighten with irritation.  “Arthur,” his voice comes wispy, almost in a cheerful melody. “Do it.  You owe me.”

“Why?” Arthur says, voice breaking.

“Doritos,” Lewis supplied.  He waits as Arthur appears to want another go with the argument, but Arthur relents.  Arthur sticks the flashlight into his back pocket, and takes a piece of the tin in either hand.  “You two might want to avert your eyes too.”  Lewis glimpses Vivi and her incredulous expression, and Lewis is compelled to cool her unease.  “I’m not going to hurt him.”  Lewis touches the collar of his suit, compelling the heart to twirl free from his chest and hover at his fingertips.  “But I don’t think you want to wind up like Fritz.”  When Vivi and Mystery had shut their eyes, Lewis guides the locket between the two pieces of the cigarette tin.  

As the locket hovers between the warped pieces of metal, Lewis raised a hand and faced a palm over the twin tin pieces.  His eye sockets flare bright magenta and for a brief moment his skull is visible through the skin of his façade, bright flames flicker up from his suit collar.  The remaining scraps of the gloves burn away when pink fire engulfs his hands, projecting a coal red symbol onto the surface of the tin.

Arthur gives a high pitched yelp when he accidentally opens his eyes, and catches sight of the eerie fire and skull face of Lewis. “Geez!  Fuck.”  He dropped the tins as he stumbled backwards into the furthest wall.  “Thank you for the warning!”

“You’re welcome,” Lewis rattles.  He looks down on the tins as the fire at his hands dies out, and the surface of the bent metal cools.  Lewis glances at Vivi as she approached with Mystery beside her.  “We’ve dealt with worse,” he said, as he admires the locket drifting at his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Vivi said.  She reaches out to the locket, until Lewis catches it by its base and turns to her. He doesn’t move as Vivi reaches over and sets her hand upon the softly pulsing heart gleaming in the gloom.  The bluish tint fades to golden under her touch. “You’re not gonna lose us.”

“Not gonna lose you,” Lewis hums.  When Vivi lowers her hand, Lewis returns the locket to the front of his suit hidden behind the sweater.  He took a piece of the crumpled tin and gave it to Vivi, then took the other broken half. Arthur was still seated against the wall, rubbing at his flesh hand.  “Are you hurt?”

Arthur shook his head and stood up, ignoring Lewis outstretched hand. “I’m fine,” he said.  “Just surprised, that’s all.”  He looked up at Lewis, before he was handed the remaining half of the tin.  “Is this some sort of protection?” Arthur ventures, as he examined the mark in the tin.

“I don’t know,” Lewis admits.  He glides after Vivi, who was already headed to the broken door.

“Then why all the flash and dazzle?” Arthur asked.  He hurried to catch up with them.  Mystery followed, and kept close to his heels.

“Fritz will not like it,” Lewis says.  He glides out of the door to stand with Vivi, and waits as Arthur and Mystery catch up.  “I used that symbol to… repel unwanted entities.  We’ll find out what happens.”

Arthur paused to look at the tin again, and was reminded of the crypt and the coffin.  It did make sense, but maybe not to Lewis as much as Arthur had decided it should. “Wait,” Arthur groaned, “are we going to splint up?  Guys, that’s a terrible idea!”

“It won’t be that bad,” Vivi insists.  She shines her light on Arthur’s chest when he begins to shake. “You and Mystery.  Watch each other’s backs, and above all don’t get separated.  You have a walkie-talkie, so don’t shut it off like you always do.”  Lewis smirked.  Arthur’s Achilles’ heel – he could run, he could evade, he could pick locks like nothing else in a pinch – but Arthur always and never failed to forget to turn on his walkie-talkie.   “Mystery, you’ll protect Arthur.”  Mystery barks, and trots to stand behind Arthur and pressed his side into the back of his companions trembling legs.  “Just don’t be afraid,” she says.  “If you need to, make some runes and a circle of salt.  You got this Artie.”

“I don’t,” Arthur whines.  Mystery barked and pranced around to Arthur’s front and hopped up to plant his front paws, in shoes, on Arthur’s thighs.  “You don’t know what you’re saying, Mystery.”  Mystery barked, insisting he did know.  But Arthur would rather be with Mystery than left alone with Lewis.

“You’ll be fine,” Lewis said.  “Don’t draw attention to yourself.  You’re good at that.”  Arthur mutters some words under his breath, but Lewis didn’t care for it.  “Remember the tin, but be careful.  There’s a chance you just might upset him with it.”

Lewis didn’t plan to let it come to that, and in a way, he wished Vivi was going along with Arthur.  When he found Fritz, and there was no doubt in Lewis’ intangible sense that he would, he didn’t plan to let the hostile spirit off before he managed to give Fritz a firm piece of the negative emotions brewing in his heated loathing.  For that little stunt in the office, Lewis vowed to find Fritz by any means available.  Even if it meant violating none corporeal laws, and endangering his own contentious state.

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[ohsoshutter]

Oh So Window Shutters Lewes offer versatility in light, ventilation and privacy only not possible with curtains or blinds. Each shutter is bespoke and made-to-measure to complement  the architecture of the window, from small to big size matching the color of the hinge, and fitted by our highly specialist team to the most exacting standards.