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bunnylouisegrimes · 4 years ago

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Unusual Thanksgiving (NOS4A2 Longish-Drabble Fic)

(A/N: As of writing this, it’s the weekend. I’ve noticed at least every weekend for a few weeks now I post some short little Drabble to help let out my emotions. Here’s another one that’s a little bit longer. With Thanksgiving coming up and my ass having little time to think of something and cook it up (pun intended), I thought I’d take the approach of having whatever come to my mind and writing it out. It’s a unique one, as you don’t usually associate horror and angst alongside the family fluffiness of Thanksgiving, but... here we are! I remember a while back I wrote how Rose’s parents would react to her having a relationship with Charlie, and that was one of my inspirations, alongside how rough things are this year. I’d like to wish you all Happy Thanksgiving ahead of time. Stay safe and enjoy a good ass feast. It’s been tough, and it’s had some highlights, but now’s the time we can all put aside our differences and whatever else bullshit and be thankful about what we do have this year; whether it be supplies or each other, we’ll get through this. 🧡🍂🍁🦃)

(Apologize for no Read More, posting this from mobile, and I found the image randomly, so if you want credit, let me know).

November is a beautiful and calming time of the year, but under certain circumstances, it can be oddly scary. This is most likely due to how dead the world is. There’s usually no snow, and what leaves remain are brown, have decayed from the trees, and collapsed to the ground to crumble and rot. I noticed this when I was younger, and part of me thought November was spookier than Halloween in some cases.

Of course, to me, any time of the year could be scary. Horror doesn’t stop and end at one point; it is an infinite occurrence that follows humanity wherever we go.

From the time I was a little kid, I would find horror in the most obscure of places. Scary movies never bothered me, and in fact, I was always excited when I watched them. What should’ve terrified me brought me nothing but adrenaline and fascination. Instead, odd things scared me, things most people would poke fun at if they saw my reaction to them, things most would shrug off. Call me Freudian, but perhaps my fears, just as yours are, are based in our differing subconscious minds, so there is no true definition of “stupid” horror.

The one thing that I know for certain that’s frightened me since I was younger are bees, wasps, yellow jackets, and hornets. Why these little yellow and black bugs terrify me, I will never truly know the answer as to why. Is it because they’re so small, yet they can hurt you so badly? Is it because of their appearance? I don’t want bees to die out, as I know of their importance, and bumbles don’t bother me because they usually leave you alone (and they’re oddly cute), but any other bee or wasp can stay away from me. I’ve never even been stung by one, yet one buzz or sight of one near me makes my body react instantaneously. I get away as much as I can and even scream sometimes. Not wise to scream or move a lot when you’re in their presence, I know. But when your body reacts the way it does, what are you to do?

When I was a little bit older, I would say roughly 8 or 9 years old, a new type of fear spawned its way into my mind: the fear of shadow people.

I don’t know what it is about those things either that scare me so much. When I first discovered I had this fear, I believe I was watching an episode of Ghost Adventures, and I saw them capture a really clear shadow figure on camera. It chilled me to the bone, and from then on, just the thought of one creeped me out. One particular episode where the crew went to an old, abandoned and haunted Tuberculosis sanitarium got to me because shadow figures were prominent there, and they actually captured two on camera going down a long hallway.

Shadow people, from what I’ve seen online, are very mysterious. They could come from another dimension, they could be demonic; some are harmless, others are harmful, and it’s all dependent on what experience you have with them. Zak Bagans and his crew have come across quite a few demonic ones, and their guests have usually described them as tall, thin, 6-7 foot tall entities that are dark both in physicality and energy. They look like an individual spray painted with pitch black aerosol, and darker than a room if it were void of all light. Sometimes they have red or white eyes, and sometimes they can have differing appearances that are just as terrifying as the blank appearances they often have. They can stand there and look over you while you’re sleeping at night, they can stand in a corner and stare at you, maybe rocking a bit, they could dart down a hallway, hiding from you, they can crawl on the floor, they can crawl on the ceiling... whatever it is they do, it’s all bone chilling to me, and I hate it all with a burning passion. I don’t care even if they were harmless: If I were to ever see one in real life, I would have a heart attack.

That is why I am thankful I’ve only seen them either when I’m paranoid for whatever reason before I go to sleep (but they’re not really there, my mind’s just playing tricks on me), or if I have a nightmare and they’re present. This story will focus on the latter.

*************************************************

Halloween, Charlie’s birthday on November 1st, the Election... it all came and left sooner than expected, and we needed to plan what we were doing about Thanksgiving. I know, a vampire who’s all about Christmas celebrating other holidays. It seems unreal, but I assure you, he has respect for other holidays as well. Christmas just happens to be his favorite and one that brings him and the kids lots of comfort and joy. They say Christmas is a state of mind and is never truly over, so... I suppose Charlie is just a living embodiment of that saying.

With COVID still in full swing, and cases breaking records everyday, people were stocking up on supplies yet again alongside their Turkey Day feasts. We knew we had to hurry up and order stuff the week before Thanksgiving at most.

Living in Gunbarrel, Colorado, away from everyone except for each other and the kids when we spent quite a few days in Christmasland each week, it was relieving to know we weren’t around tons of people. The virus wouldn’t affect Charlie or the kids, but me being the only human, and one with asthma, it would, so it was calming to not have to worry as much as many other folks about exposure. Not to mention, the town was small, and everybody knew everybody. Whenever we did enter town, which took 10 minutes to get to, we would see everyone keeping their distance and respecting each other. It was nice to see our small and (just about) off-the-grid community helping each other during these times.

The only two local stores were an Acme that everyone went to, and the Gunbarrel General Store, owned by a kindly old man who looked like Santa Clause named Sam. Before everyone rushed to Acme, we decided on doing a curbside pickup order, and picking up anything else that was not available at Sam’s, as he was sure to provide lots of Thanksgiving food.

It was going to certainly be an interesting Thanksgiving without my usual family, and not being back home, but I was going to call them on that fateful Thursday and talk to them for a few hours. Charlie and I would have a small dinner together, and we would spend most of the day in Christmasland with our children, dining on delicious food and laughing together. The thought warmed my heart and made me feel better about this Thanksgiving. We would be okay, and everything would be fine, despite my horrible dreams...

For whatever reason, over these past few weeks, my dreams were plagued with shadow people haunting me. No explanation was given, and no explanation would need to be given for it to still occur and damn near break me. Maybe it was some sort of unresolved issue going through the back of my mind, maybe it was fueled by my stresses of being busy lately, but regardless of whatever the issue was, I was haunted by them. The day after Charlie’s birthday, we watched the original Nosferatu together, and I fell asleep near the end, experiencing the first of these dreams.

I was walking down a dark and cold hallway. I was 8 years old again. I don’t know how I knew this, but it was one of those instances where you know a random piece of information in a dream. I was holding two small plastic My Little Pony figurines I got from Happy Meals at that time, a small Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash. I hadn’t seen those toys in years, yet there they were in my hands. When I looked up, a shadow person was standing near the end of the pathway. It stood tall and authoritative, looming over me as if it wanted to grab me and drag me down the corridor straight into Hell, or wherever it came from.

I took off running, and it crawled on all fours after me. I screamed and kept running until I came across a goofy, tall, and lanky figure: Count Orlock, or the actual Nosferatu himself, was standing there. I hid behind him and begged him to protect me. He smiled his stupid smile and looked down at the shadowy behemoth. It seemed to back down a bit once he snarled at it. It backed up behind a corner, peaking at us once before vanishing.

My relief was short lived for only a few moments because Orlock wandered off into the darkness.

“Where are you going? Come back here!” I tried to call after him, but I was cut off by the shadow figure crawling on the ceiling and grabbing me. I gave a scream and found myself awake on the couch, springing to life and hearing the opening music to Downton Abbey greeting me. Charlie had tuned in after the movie. He looked at me with a confused and concerned look. I explained everything to him and he comforted me, laughing at the thought of the original Nosferatu visiting me.

The dreams afterward were more terrifying than the first. One dream featured a shadow person staring over me as I slept, another featured one standing in the corner of the room twisting and contorting its head violently. The third had a shadow figure hunched over near a window within an abandoned building. I was walking through the woods in another nightmare when a whole group of them were peaking at me through the trees. I ran down another hallway and one was behind me. I was in an unknown house and down the hall near the steps, one was charging towards me. Each time, I would wake up and feel unsettled. Charlie would comfort me, but it was always hard to fall back asleep, for I feared I’d be terrorized by the evil onyx creatures wanting nothing more than to consume me in their shadowy force and make my soul rot.

Despite all of my terror and the tiredness that accompanied my days, the focus for today would have to be Thanksgiving dinner.

“My mom mailed me the recipe to her sweet potatoes last week, and let me tell you, they are actually sweet and delicious,” I told Charlie. “So you can put down all the ingredients for that. We already got turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes written down... Oh! Green bean casserole, put that down... and we need apple and pumpkin pie. We already have whip cream and gravy in the fridge, and cider is in the cabinet. I think that’s everything.”

Charlie nodded and wrote these things down. Once he was done, he looked over the list and showed me.

“Yup, that’s everything! Alright, let’s look up to see what Acme has.”

As I pulled up the site on my phone, he spoke up.

“Rosie, are you bothered by not seeing your family? If so, we can visit them on Thanksgiving Day or I could go the extra mile and bring them here if you’d like.”

I sighed and rubbed my temple. “I’m alright, baby. I know they’ll be alright too. Things seem to be... okay between us, even if we did get into arguments since last we spoke in person.”

He looked down and felt guilty.

“Hey, don’t you feel guilty,” I reassured him. “It’s their fault, not yours. They see you in whatever light they want to, but I know who you really are, and I love you. I don’t care what they say or think about you, hence why I’m sticking by you and left with you to come here.”

He nodded and pulled me close to him, resting his chin on my head. “I admit, my darling, I am constantly bothered by this thought that I have destroyed the relationship you have with your family.”

“Like I said, they’re the ones that can’t accept that you and I truly love each other. I’ve been patient and offered them every chance to accept you. I’ve explained and talked to them, but they don’t want to listen to my reasoning. I don’t know what else to do.”

He kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’m glad that you at least still talk to each other.”

“Me too. At least we have that... but let’s not worry about that. We got food to focus on.”

We ordered everything that we could (the only things not available until the week of Thanksgiving were the two pies, but we knew Sam would have them). When the time came, we loaded into the Wraith and the trunk was packed with our dinner. We stopped by the General Store and Sam happily gave “Father Christmas” (as Charlie was known as) the pies. Since it was still light out, we decided to go for a drive to enjoy the autumn weather. As I mentioned before, November is usually dead and brown, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t peaceful and calm. We observed the soothing and cold weather as Fleetwood Mac and The Doors sang along on the old radio.

While gazing at the brown leaves and bare trees rocking their branches above us, I drifted off to sleep without even thinking about it. Stevie Nicks and Jim Morrison’s voices melted into oblivion as I found myself walking through a tranquil forest of dead trees. Cold, I wrapped my arms around myself until I felt a bit warmer, and I saw a grove of orange trees. It was as if I teleported back in time to October, and the trees were still alive with vibrant color.

I ran over to them, taken aback by their beauty. The leaves that were on the ground were still orange, and I tossed them up into the air with childish carelessness. At last! For once, I was having a good dream!

However, that enjoyment would be cut short when I looked into the distance in between the trees. The world and my joy winded down like a dying record player.

From somewhere beyond the misty horizon, a pair of white eyes were watching me.

Dread hit me and I ran away. The trees began to rot again, and the orange faded into brown. The sunlight morphed into fog, and the warmth dissipated from my body. I fell to the ground, tripping over my own clumsy feet.

Now I was somewhere entirely different. I was in a dark, unfamiliar bedroom. I couldn’t move except for my eyes, like I was suffering from sleep paralysis. I looked up to see the shadow figure that was hiding behind the trees. Its white eyes were dimmer than before, and its solid black body cast lighter shadows behind it. I tried to scream, but I could only choke out vocalizations as it covered my mouth.

It lifted its ice cold hand from my mouth and pointed to the left. My eyes glanced in that direction and a scream broke from my throat.

A pointy eared demon with beady eyes, a close together face, and a sickening smile was on top of my chest. Its body was too dark to make out any notable features, but it was lighter than the shadow next to me. The pressure on top of me crushed the life from my lungs. It continued to smile, as if nothing in the world bothered it at all.

Before my scream ran out of air, it wrapped its cold hands around my neck and tightened to the point it was strangling me. The rest of my scream died out, my eye sight was fading until it was only a pinhole...

Air rushed into my lungs as I jolted into a conscience state once again. My eyes darted rapidly and my body clung to the leather seat of the Wraith. We were no longer driving, and instead parked in the garage. A wave of nausea flooded my head and stomach, and I pressed my hand to my eyes. My mind finally registered Charlie’s soft voice.

“Rose! My sweet Rose! Whatever is the matter?”

“I... Jesus Christ... I... had another nightmare... this was... Good God, how else could I describe it?!”

While we gathered the groceries into the house, I detailed my horrifying dream to him. He was immensely disturbed and decided enough was enough.

“I know you believe in ghosts and demons and the sort,” said he, “and I know such things exist, since I’ve seen spirits and souls before. Because of this, you and I can pray before you go to sleep tonight. Unlike other vampires, holy things do not bother me, unless I were to drink or touch holy salt or holy water, in which case I would feel some discomfort thanks to the darker side of my being. I have an old angel doll that my daughters used to play with and hold whenever they felt uncomfortable or scared. That could help you too. I will hypnotize you and make you have sweet dreams. If any dark entity is going to mess with you, I will protect you. I don’t think you have an attachment, but these dreams are certainly unusual.”

I agreed to all of this. That night, we said a prayer together, I snuggled with the angel doll, and he hypnotized me to sleep. I had a dream I couldn’t remember, but it was certainly the most peaceful I had in a while, and it was even better then the beginning of that nightmare I had that evening.

A sense of purity filled my heart, and I knew nothing dark would ever hurt me or anyone I loved, as whatever God that may be out there as my witness.

*************************************************

Thanksgiving arrived at an unbelievably fast rate. No other bad dreams tormented me, and I couldn’t have felt more happy. Charlie and I worked together to prep dinner. When I finished making sure the turkey was good and putting it in the oven, Charlie presented me with a package.

“It’s from your home,” he observed.

I opened it up at the dining room table and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was the Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash figurines from my childhood. Underneath them, was a heartfelt letter from my family, detailing how they had recently found these toys and thought of me. They missed me, and they even apologized for all of their harsh words against me and Charlie. They gave it some thought, and they came to the conclusion that as long as I was happy and in love, and as long as Charlie truly loved me and treated me well, then all was perfectly fine. They wished us a very happy Thanksgiving from 2 hours ahead and many miles away.

Tears fell from my cheeks. I was crying of joy for more than the obvious reason being that my family and I were rekindling together.

I realized now why I had such horrible dreams. It was either my worries and fears of my family not being together haunting me, or maybe even some dark force, but Twily and Dashie here weren’t random parts of that first dream at all; they served as symbolism. They represented hope and familial innocence long lost, now brought back to light. Maybe they sent a message out in the universe to my family that Charlie was a good man. That could also be why Orlock was protecting me in that same dream, but him leaving symbolized my family keeping Charlie away from me, therefore causing bad things to happen to me. And perhaps when Charlie helped me and cleansed all darkness (regardless of it being real or not), those ponies knew ahead of time he was going to do that, and reassured my family he was always going to protect me. It sounded bizarre, but it was the best reasoning I could come up with to explain these odd coincidences.

I immediately called my family afterwards and told them everything. They were chilled themselves because my mother had a dream the night before about Charlie bringing forth bouts of light to protect me from a wave of darkness, and she thought it was her brain processing her acceptance of him, but now that my story was told, it made things even clearer.

We concluded talking by coming up with a date to have dinner together and to see each other again back home. We exchanged I love yous and Happy Thanksgivings, and I hung up feeling thankful. As Charlie and I ate a bit of dinner, as we went to Christmasland, and as we ate lots of food with our children, warmth and light abundant, I was grateful that I had the family I did, the boyfriend and children that I did, and the light that still shined in the universe, even on the most darkest of days. This year has been hard, but gratitude for all the good, hope, and love, even when we’re distant figuratively, literally, or both, makes this holiday season a brighter one.

#nos4a2 charlie #nos4a2 fanfic #nos4a2 fanfiction #nos4a2 #charlie manx #charles manx

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omg-puddingpie · 6 years ago

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Fables/TWAU: Grendel

A continuation from my previous post regarding my OC Lyla and a glimpse into her past with Gren and how the couple came to be. A HUGE thank you to @emmypess who seemed to have brought the spark back, regarding the sudden need to write about these lovelies again. :3

1st chapter: http://omg-puddingpie.tumblr.com/post/177812156242/fables-lyla-smith-i-was-inspired-by-emmypess

Gren was known for two things: Being the ravenous monster who tormented the Mead Halls for twelve years but was taken down by Beowulf and had a temper that was quite unpredictable, which caused so many to remain at bay.

No one took into consideration all the things he had accomplished for this pathetic town; he took down individuals who ran devious plans to end humanity and protected the souls who walked this earth, unaware of the trouble brewing in the shadows. His selfless ability to save those he barely knew went unnoticed. All the world seemed to see before their very eyes was a monster, a drunk and a poor excuse for a living being.

Perhaps they were right, thought Gren, as he took another deep gulp of Whiskey. Perhaps all the good he’s ever done in this life was nothing compared to the foundation that created him. All he was-and will forever be-is a monster. That was it.

Resting his head upon the counter, Gren sighs heavily and digs into his pant pocket. He pulls out a picture showcasing a buxom beauty with golden eyes, pale skin and chestnut hair. It rested perfectly along her shoulders, draping ever so slightly towards her breasts and neck. Her smile was radiant, which caused Gren to smile for a brief time. Time had not been too kind to this photo; there was a crease across the middle, several tears in the corner and a dark smudge on the right side, indicating a stain or even a moment’s worth of anger from the flicker of a lit match. But regardless of all the imperfections, the woman in the picture was still glimmering.

Gren once again exhales. Did SHE see him as only a monster? Was this the reason why she refused to love him? The reason why she ran into the arms of another and left Gren behind, still clinging to hope?

He tucks the picture securly into his pant pocket once more and buries his face into the material of jacket. He crosses his arms into a position willing to hold up his head. Gren closes his eyes and could only picture her: Lyla Smith, the only woman who could ever tame the wild fire within Gren and create feelings he thought were never meant for someone as himself. How he loved, respected and adored Lyla, since the moment the pair met. Gren could still see it all in his mind: After escaping the homelands, he found himself alone deep in the forest of what would become Maine. She was practicing her hunting skills with her father; Gren could still recall the lingering aroma in the air that caught his attention and the mixed feelings developing within. Lyla was in her Wolf form at first but quickly changed when Grendel prepared to charge and protect his land.

He did not want to hurt the woman, nor did he want her to ever leave his sight. In Gren’s eyes, she was stunning. How God allowed such a creation to walk among this world, was a mystery to him. But at that moment, he desired to always be around this woman, as did she, for some unseen reason. It was at that moment, his soul became connected with her very own. Since that encounter, the pair became inseparable. Gren was at peace when he was with Lyla.

Yet here he was, in a dark, lonely bar, attempting to drink her memory away. Why did he let all these centuries slip through his fingers, in a matter of minutes? Gren chokes back the mixture of frustration and depression. Now was not the time, he thought.

He felt a sudden grasp-a warm, friendly gesture-upon his shoulder. Gren manages to perk up his head, enough to uncover his eyes and focus on the white haired woman before her. This was his bartender and longtime friend, Holly. She folds her arms, cocks her hips slightly to the left and sighs.

“You going to be like this all day, Gren? Am I going to have to peel your ass off of my bar stool?”

Gren grunts. “Just pour me another, Holly. Today is a fuckin’ bad one.”

“It’s ALWAYS a bad one, Gren….” Holly reaches for the bottle, reaching for Gren’s empty glass. “Lately, it seems like all you do is drink, moan, bitch, piss and finally, drink again. It’s all you’re willing to do. Get up off your ass, take a damn shower and GO find her. How hard can it be to-”

“I’ve TRIED, Holly….” There was a slight growl forming in his response. “....Don’t you fuckers THINK I’ve been doin’ all I fuckin’ can to find her? Ever since they captured the Crooked Man, took down his operation and held those responsible on trial, her trail has gone cold. No one knows where the ever lovin’ fuck, Lyla Jane Smith went! I’ve looked, I’ve asked around, I even went to goddamn Bigby Wolf and Snow fuckin’ White, considering the man KNOWS her fuckin’ dad but they can’t tell me a damn thing! So, yes: to answer your damn question, I HAVE tried and I’m GOING to sit here and drink all this bullshit away!”

Holly places the top back into the bottle, shakes her head in disbelief and continues cleaning the area around Gren. Despite all the attempts, there was only so much she could do. Holly did not understand why Gren clung onto to a fantasy or thought of ever having Lyla as his own. She’s met the woman on several different occasions and each time was the same. Lyla just seemed cold and holding back her ability to truly love Gren. It was apparent she cared for Gren, this much WAS true and she’d do anything for him but love was never one of them and this confused Holly to the very end.

But if he TRULY loved this woman and the rumor WAS true about his soul already bound to Lyla’s, Holly was willing to muster up all she could to support Gren’s decisions. These soul bound connections are quite serious, from what Holly could understand, especially to Wolves and Grendels. Once it was branded into their soulmate, Heaven nor Hell could tear them apart: it was up to BOTH parties to remove this mark, should they choose to do so and even with this procedure, it was challenging and even fatal. With this bit of information, Holly’s views on Lyla did change; had she wanted to remove Gren entirely from her life, she’d venture to find him and do so. She had multiple opportunities in the past prior to this bump in the road and it never occured, so perhaps there was love for Gren implanted in Lyla’s heart.

Holly leans close towards Gren. “Look at me.”

“Fuck you.” Gren mumbles his response. “Just fuckin’ leave me alone and-”

“Get...UP, Gren.” Holy grasps Gren’s face and forces him to look up. “You NEED to go and find her. You can’t keep doing this, Gren. I know there is….some goddamn hope, for this to work out. If she did not give a Rat’s ass about you, don’t you think she’d do something about it? For fuck’s sake, Gren, her mom is a goddamn grand Witch, who has the power to stop TIME itself with a single wiggle of her index finger. You don’t think she has some mumbo jumbo spell to end this all, if Lyla had requested this?”

This caught Gren’s attention. Was Holly right? Did Lyla feel the exact same way as he did for her? “Fuck….” Gren rubs his forehead. “....Mother fuckin’.....Holly-”

“You need to go into that bathroom, wash your face with some cold water and come down from this pity party you got going on.” Holly takes the glass out of Gren’s grasp. “It’s not a good look for you, Grendel….”

Swallowing back his pride, she was right. Gren carefully removes himself from the seat and leans against the bar. Thankfully, it was empty at that time but who else drank at 10:45 in the morning, besides broken people such as himself? At first, it was difficult for Gren to collect himself; the room was a blurry image of lights and colors but once he took the time to find himself, Gren heads to the men’s room and leans against the sink.

“Yell if you need help in there.”

“I got it.” Gren yells back. “I got it.”

He turns the knob to the left and allows the cool water to pour into his cupped palms. Gren gathers enough, throws it into his face and repeats this process five more time. The liquid was refreshing to his skin and allowed his mind to clear. Wiping his face and hands clean, Gren then takes out a back toothed comb and begins the process of slicking back his hair. Once the strands were tucked into place, the final touch: cologne and a dash of mouthwash, just to remove the foul odor of alcohol still dancing along his tongue.

Gren exits the bathroom, leaving Holly with a grin. “You always did clean up good, Grendel. Now, I don’t want to see you back here, unless it’s good news, you fuckin’ hear me?”

Gren nods and with his final strand of confidence, marches out of the bar and into the bustling streets of New York. The glaring sun and constant noise was something Gren never quite got a handle on but he was willing to look past this a tread forward. He had one chance and one only.

Gren had no idea where to begin but this did not stop his mission. There was one person-and only one-who could lead him in Lyla’s direction.

“Why do you need Hans’ address for, Grendel?” Bigby Wolf questions Gren, as he scribbles down the information. “You better not be causing him trouble. He’s paid his dues for his involvement with Georgie and Crooked Man and-”

“I ain’t here for that, Sheriff Wolf.” Gren snatches the paper from Bigby’s hand. “I’m just lookin’ for an old friend.”

“Lyla Smith?” Bigby takes a moment to expel smoke from his mouth. “John was always careful to mask his tracks, so don’t be surprised if you can’t find anything leading up to Lyla.”

“I need to find her, Bigby. I need to get my answer and we’ll go from there but if you don’t fuckin’ mind, I’ll-”

“Did you even look at the paper, Gren?” Bigby beams. “I’m sure you’ll get some sort of use from it.”

“It’s Hans’ address, right?” Gren begins the process of reading the information. “Swear to fuckin’ Christ, Bigby, if this is a sick game and-”

But it wasn’t Hans’ whereabouts but something even better. It was the address of Lyla’s current location. Gren could feel the color of his face peeling away and the rapid pacing of his heart. There was a faint smile developing on his face, which caused Bigby to lean forward on this desk, hands folded and eyes focused on Gren.

“What….how….how did you get-”

“Jonathan came in two days ago and told me if you ever did return to me, regarding his daughter, to give you this information and he’d be waiting for you. Guess the old Wolf knew you’d be back and refuse to give up.”

“Why the fuck do you even give a damn, Sheriff? I’m JUST Grendel-we’re not exactly the best of fuckin’ friends, especially after all that shit that took place during the investigation with the Crooked Man and-”

“Just looking out for the Fables under my watch, Gren-this means you, too.”

Gren said not another word, tucks the paper away and exits the office. He practically ran out of the building and hails a Taxi cab down. He hands the driver the information written on the paper.

“You speak English?”

The man with a thick mustache and glasses eyes Gren. “Enough, yes.”

“Can you read this?”

“Yes.”

“Then take me here. I wanna go here.”

The man nods and continues to eye Gren. “Dis long way from city. Cost money. A lot. Okay or no?”

Gren opens his wallet, removes all the cash he had and places it beside the man. “Here-money. Lots and lots of it. Now, fuckin’ take me to THIS place, okay?”

The man collects the bills and begins in the direction written on the paper. “Okay, we go.”

Gren leans back into the seat and stares out the window. While the Taxi travels along the busy roads, Gren grasps Lyla’s picture. All he could envision, was her.

#twau oc #twau gren #grendel #grendel legacy #twau fanfic #stroy #ocs

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kawoshitting · 7 years ago

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Tag Index

A list + explanations of all of my tags, most of which are NGE-related. This is mostly so that I know what my tags are lol. Not all of these have posts associated with them, because part of the function of this index is to keep track of my entire tagging scheme.

Table of Contents:

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