#yes my mom had a shotgun that i moved but never fired myself

[starside-selfships]

Homecoming

Tonight was certainly not in my favor for the most part. To bring you up to speed, it was homecoming night for my younger brother, along with his friends, and I was an unpaid chauffeur for them. Whether I said yes or no to my mom, which the latter would result in a scolding, I would still be driving, whether I liked it or not. I had plans to meet up with someone tonight and now, unfortunately, I had to cancel those plans. Wonderful. So much for treating myself. Saying yes to avoid any conflict between my mother and I, I was driving my brother and his group of boys and girls, one of them most likely his significant other, to the nearby high school, the same one where I graduated from, but I don’t think any of that really mattered. Sure, there were going to be people there that recognized me, but it’s not like I planned on going inside to dance or mingle. Don’t get me wrong, I was gussied up for the occasion, but with how tonight was already progressing, going inside to try and get into the groove was not on my agenda. Little did I know that I was going to be completely wrong. 

We were nearing the school as I was in the driver’s seat and I focused on the road as best I could, overhearing the conversation in the back amongst the group of seniors about how my brother was probably going to get laid or something, followed by a roar of laughter. While he was of age, as am I, I didn’t think I would be hit with a strong dose of discomfort hearing those words coming out of their mouths. Yeah, they were in high school so it made sense for them to say stuff like that. Already I began to question this night before my thoughts started to shift towards a particular someone that made my smile return after it had been gone for hours. A demon, or imp rather, down in hell that no one knew, except for a few of my closest friends who I knew could definitely keep a secret, had my heart and more. My smile remained small, but it was genuine, a chuckle eliciting from me as I continued to drive and within seconds of starting to think about him, I noticed my phone vibrating in the front passenger seat out of the corner of my eye. Look, I am, and I quote from one of my favorite content creators, a “good fucking citizen” and I would never risk my life or others because of a single text message. However, this wasn’t a single text. Whoever was trying to reach me was literally trying to nuke my phone for I counted the vibrations from listening closely to them. I didn’t bother picking up my phone so I just counted. 1...2...3...4...5...not even five minutes and I’ve somehow counted 23 and rising text messages being sent to my phone. Was it that urgent or was someone just spamming me with nonsense because I can’t remember the last time I was spammed like that and my memory is on point, not to brag or anything.

Upon pulling into one of the many parking lots of the high school, my brother and his friends began unbuckling themselves from their seats and after setting the SUV into “park”, they all got out one by one, on both sides, putting on their masks. I forgot to mention that this homecoming had a theme, which was “Monster Mash”, so zombies, mummies, your usual batch of monsters from all types of media of course, along with the special monsters that only one or two people only knew and were ready to discuss and talk about at a moment’s notice. As much as I wanted to sit in the car, I knew I was going to have to go in at some point, so earlier today, I decided I was going as a werewolf, picking up a fitting mask from the city’s costume store, but instead of just having a mask and calling it a day, it evolved into something more homemade. I spent several extra hours turning my tux into a more fitting and lycanthrope-themed outfit, dark fur lining the edges and front of my suit, outfitting myself with wolf ears and covering my face in blood to represent claw marks. Thankfully, I remembered that I had an old wolf tail, cleaning it up and hoping that the appearance was pleasing to the eye in some way and to my surprise, it certainly was. Not like anyone was going to care honestly, but you know, what’s wrong with a little bit of effort, even if no one’s going to notice?

“You’re not coming?” My brother questioned as he reached for his mask and was about to head inside with the others, earning a shake of my head as a response.

“We’ll see, you go have fun, okay?” I said, seeing him run off back to this squad and closing the car door as I rested my head on the back of my seat and sigh heavily. Finally, no one could hear or see me cry, the lights on the inside roof of the car beginning to slowly dim, shutting off completely and leaving me in darkness. “Fuck.” I whispered, trying not to choke on my tears thanks to the numerous thoughts clouding my head, many of them were memories of my high school days and how they all just generally sucked. I’m going to spare you of the details, but in short, I was a teacher’s pet who did good, had good grades, and tried so hard not to get caught up in a relationship since, well, at the time I wasn’t into anyone and nor was anyone into me. Looking back at it, I’ve never been hit with an intense pain in my life. But then, my thoughts were interrupted by another vibration. “Alright, who’s trying to nuke my phone?” I told myself as I reached over and grabbed my phone in frustration, turning the screen on and discovering that the imp himself had been sending me a flood of messages, alongside his employees, including the hellhound. “Wait, what?” I was stunned, why was I getting all these messages from I.M.P? Unlocking my phone and going through the wave of texts and images, most of them being from Blitzo, I checked the ones belonging to Millie, Loona, and Moxxie first, working my way up from there.

Millie “Hey Eli!” “Just wanted to say that I hope tonight is great for you and Blitzo!” “He has a really big surprise for you!” “Have fun you two!”

Loona “Elijah” “Heard ya weren’t feeling great” “Shit sucks but Blitz has a surprise for you later tonight” “Ain’t saying shit, but I hope you have fun” “You deserve it, alright?”

Moxxie “Dear Elijah, I certainly hope your night is swell. I overheard from my boss that it wasn’t going as planned and not to spoil anything, but he has a surprise for you later tonight. Have fun!” “p. s it’ll be a nice break from him interfering with my relationship with Millie.”

And now, all that there was left to check was Blitzo, I didn’t bother holding back my tears. Who was going to watch? Most of his texts were pictures of him looking for an outfit, getting help from a smiling Millie, annoyed Moxxie, and a Loona who looked like she didn’t really care. That’s what the realization hit me soon after. I didn’t want to believe it, but I looked through every single text again and yeah, sure enough, it was real. The imp was my date. Blitzo was my homecoming date. Another text, the last one from Blitzo for the night it seemed, sounding ominous of course.

“See ya soon, Eli. XOXO”

My smile returned once again as I regained my thoughts, clearing my head and doing my best to ignore all the negative and previous ones that arrived earlier tonight, replacing all of them with one: the fact that the imp that nearly killed me by accident was my homecoming date. The two of us have talked and spent a lot of time together, but who would’ve thought that he would be the one I would fall for and make my better in a way like this? Yeah, I was into him the most out of everyone at I.M.P. Of course, Millie and Moxxie were married and Loona, I’ll be honest, she was someone who appeared that she wasn’t too keen on dating. Blitzo, on the other hand, ever since the two of us met with him pounced over my body with a double barrel shotgun aimed directly at my face, we’re never been closer. That story about how we met is a real doozy, but it’s certainly for another time.

After waiting a little longer, I finally left the vehicle and locked the doors, stuffing the keys in my pocket and trading it for my phone, holding the mask in my other hand, my body on fire at the constant, recurring thought that wasn’t leaving anytime soon, one that pushed all the others away, a splendid thought that was the only thing I could think of. Before I knew it, I was at the front doors of the school and I followed the couples and groups, most likely students, towards the gym, looking at my phone and expecting a text, but instead, just silence. I guess all I needed to do was wait for him, and that’s what I did as I was greeted with the sound of deep bass rumbling through my body thanks to the booming speakers, along with the bright spotlights that moved around at a rapid pace, mixed with multiple multicolored strobe lights. It was a party alright. With the song that was playing as well, it was a fitting one with the theme. And lost in this party, I assumed, was a neatly dressed imp waiting for me. I walked along the edge of the gym, avoiding the growing crowd of dancers and hoping to possibly run into Blitzo at some point, only to be stopped by, unsurprisingly, one of my high school teachers. 

“Elijah, is that you? Hey kid, what brings you here?!” She asked, leaning against the wall with a drink, a red cup, yes a red cup, and wrapped in a mummy outfit, bandages covering her body, along with one eye while the other was perfectly visible.

“Just chaperoning for my brother and his friends.” I answered, which was half the truth, but how could I explain that I was waiting for my demonic plus one?

“For a chaperone, you fit in right with the crowd, nice outfit! Did you make it yourself?”

 “Yeah, I did actually.”

 “I always knew you were one of the more creative ones in the class and it shows, awesome job!” I found myself getting blushy rather quickly at her compliment, rubbing the back of my head as I continued the conversation and it soon turned into one where my heart began to race rapidly. “So, tell me, do you have a date?” I wanted to lie, but then again, I was unsure of Blitzo was my date, or even if I wanted to say he was to others, so I took a deep breath and tried to make up my mind quickly.

“Yeah, I do, he’s a bit late though, it might be a while before he gets here.”

“Who said I was late?” The imp said, grabbing ahold of my shoulder gently and wanting me to turn around so I did, my eyes meeting his and I could see that his were that wickedly bright yellow, with a hint of red in the middle. Sinister, but always a joy to look at. “Hey, cutie.” I was about to open my mouth to compliment his outfit, resembling Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas, from top to bottom, only for my teacher to butt in. This was going to be a joy.

“Oooooh, and who might this be, Elijah?! He must learn from the best because his costume’s amazing!” This was going to be a real interesting night. I was already contemplating on going back to the car.

 “The name’s Blitzo, pronounced Blitz and the O is silent, also known as this handsome guy’s boyfriend.” He said, greeting himself to-

...HOLD UP, WAIT A MINUTE. Did he just say boyfriend? Was I hearing that correctly? I wasn’t crazy, right?

“The name’s Blitzo, the O is silent, also known as this handsome guy’s boyfriend.” He said, greeting himself to-wait a minute, did he just say boyfriend? Did I hear that correctly? I wasn’t crazy, right?

“Well, Blitzo, it was really nice to meet you. Elijah was, and still is, one of my best students, creative too, you’re a lucky one.”

“Oh, trust me,” He looked over at me, a look that read ‘I love you’, his eyes appearing as if he was going to cry, but his smile was wide. “I know.” He was being completely truthful with her and myself. Not a single word he said was a lie, at least that’s what I believed. Something told me that it was true, every single word was honest and straight from the heart. “Let’s go dance, yeah?” He said softly towards me, earning a soft nod in reply and so, the two of us made our way to the dance floor. I was so nervous to ask him a single question with a plentiful rushing through my head. “Shocked, huh? Don’t be, Elijah. I know the two of us have been together for some time and I may have heard from a little birdie that you were going to be helping out your brother for some dance.” I reminisced on when I remember talking about the homecoming dance and then it hit me.

“Damn it, Angel.”

“C’mon, you missed me. You’re glad she told me too.”

“Yeah, I did. But, like, didn’t you have some more important stuff, like work? And your horse to take care of?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Work’s slow and boring and Moxxie’s watching over her so, I’m free for the night! What better way to spend my night with my new boyfriend too?” He said, pressing his lips against my cheek and sending my heart sky high, my hand on his beginning to clench. “Easy cowboy, it was just a kiss. We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff, you know.” Okay, now he was just trying to get me flustered really early. We made jokes about that stuff, but was he being serious? About all of this?

“I was actually going to ask about that. Do you, like, you’re actually interested in me, right?” He stopped in his tracks and the two of us were halted together, surrounded by multiple dancing groups and couples, I could sense the music that was once pounding in my ears beginning to die out, soon Blitzo’s voice was the only thing I could hear. “All those times we’ve been together, from the day you were in my bed ready to kill me and only to discover you were in the wrong house to all those times we’ve spent in Hell and on the surface, to that one time you were actually full-on naked in my bed and I was nearly caught, you’re being honest with me, right?”

“Elijah,” Blitzo began, reaching for my other hand to hold it tight, gazing into my eyes and I soon lost myself in them, my focus and attention being grabbed and held by him and him alone. “I’m being one hundred percent honest with you. If I killed you, I would’ve missed a chance like this and, god fucking dammit, I’m trying not to cry here.”

“Trust me, I’ve already done that tonight, you’re good.” I joked, the two of us laughing as his claw-like hands gripped mine.

“But yeah, I’m serious. From the bottom of my heart, Elijah. No bullshit. I love you. Yeah, you’re a human and I nearly killed you, but that night I met you and nearly blew your brains out, was probably the fucking day of my whole eternal suffering, as they usually say. That’s, that’s what they say, right?” Hearing that filled my heart with an intense amount of joy and soon, I felt my worries wash away. Who would’ve thought that I would not only fall in love with a demon below the surface of this Earth, but an imp who was not only charming, but skilled at his profession? A professional that was basically assassination. Then again, he just straight up kills anyone he’s paid to kill alongside the other three. “You can cry all you want, okay?” I didn’t want to, especially in front of Blitzo.

“Oh, shut up. I love you too.” I said, earning a nice laugh from him. Moments later, the music shifted from the usual extremely bumping and loud beat into something more mellow, but you could still dance to. A song that people weren’t really a fan of, but for me, and surprisingly Blitzo, it was perfect. To my surprise, the imp knew the damn lyrics.

Oh, don’t you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me. I said, you’re holding back. He said, shut up and dance with me! This demon is my destiny. He said, ooh-ooh-hoo! Shut up and dance with me!

The two of us followed suit and already had the floor so who was gonna stop us? No one was certainly going to stop Blitzo and for me, I was already lost in the moment, I could only see Blitzo and I losing ourselves in the music together, singing and dancing along. No distractions or disturbances as we let loose. Unbeknownst to me, the crowd around us had cleared and it was just me and Blitzo dancing to the beat with a silent audience cheering on a human and his boyfriend, unaware that he was truly a demon. I didn’t care about any of that mess now, I was overjoyed to be dancing with my imp boyfriend under the moving spotlight, the two of us grabbing the attention of all the other costumed people standing by and watching us. It didn’t even feel like they were there.

Deep in his eyes I think I see the future I realize this is my last chance! He took my arm I don’t know how it happened We took the floor and he said…

Oh, don’t you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said, you’re holding back He said, shut up and dance with me This demon is my destiny He said, ooh-ooh-hoo! Shut up and dance!

The final chorus continued to play and the two of us were going at it, I could sense and hear quiet cheers and wolf whistles, yet Blitzo’s voice filled my ears and drowned it all out.

Ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me!

And just like that, the music halted and the two of us were in a bit of a position, me dipping and holding his body down, our eyes locked onto each other, the crowd coming back to life with a roar of an applause. They witnessed everything and as much as I wanted to look around and see everyone, Blitzo kept my face looking directly at his. “Hey, don’t focus on them. It’s okay.” I smiled down at him and nodded, the music shifting back into something more exciting and full of life and sending the crowd’s back onto the floor.

 “I didn’t know you were so good at dancing, Blitzo.” I said, complimenting him on his dancing and wondering where he picked that up, then again, it hit me that he’s been bugging a married couple for Satan knows how long, and he’s been on the surface a few times.

 “You go around, you know some folks, you pick up some new things, learn a few tricks.” There was a small moment of silence. “Alright, I picked it up from Moxx and Mills.” I had a feeling. Right as I was about to say something while bringing back up onto his feet, I was the one to be dipped this time and caught off guard. “Now pucker up, cutie~” And with that, Blitzo kissed me sweetly and passionately, my vision getting blurry as my eyes fluttered and my heart was more soothed and relaxed. I will admit that Blitzo has kissed me on numerous occasions, but this was something he never pulled or did and it was immensely surprisingly and completely satisfying. I didn’t want to ruin the moment at all. In fact, I wanted to make it even better. So I decided to surprise Blitzo with something up my sleeve, slipping my tongue into his mouth and catching him off guard, only for our tongues to collide and intertwine with each other, his claws yanking and gripping me closer to his body, our lips still locked together for a good couple of seconds and right as we finally pulled away, there was an embarrassing amount of saliva attached to my lips and his, a dark blush hitting both our faces. “Well, that was, I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“Yeah, wasn’t expecting that kiss either, heh.” The silence between us was high but was soon broken with Blitzo speaking up again.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it. I know you’re probably thinking it too, are you going to make love to me already or what?” My eyes widened in surprise, my body heating up in response and while I was expecting a lewd comment or question, he was just completely straightforward with it, no hints, or riddles, just straight from the head.

“C-Can we go to the car now, like, right now?” I asked, hoping he could sense the desperateness in my voice, along with the look of lust in my eyes. Yeah, he definitely saw it, without a doubt. That smile of his, how he licked his lips in front of me, shooting a sexy glare at me, tonight was going to be a ride, in more ways than one as Blitzo swiftly picked me up in his arms and carried me towards the car bridal-style, grabbing a few eyeballs as he did.

“Of course~” We soon made our way outside and Blitzo finally set me down, not even bothering to look around if there were any watchers who were late to the party, as if he were planning something.

“Something wrong?” He didn’t reply with a vocal answer, but instead, what came next was what made this entire night probably the best homecoming ever. I’m going to spare the details, but what came next was pretty saucy.

Sometime Later…

I found myself rising out of bed to the sight of several dimmed lights and within seconds, the awareness hit me hard. I wasn’t at home. I was in Blitzo’s home. “Morning, sleepyhead.” The imp to my side greeted, not wearing anything like me as I hid myself under the sheets. I half-expected him to be dressed in some cute horse-themed pjs, but no, he was full-on naked under the sheets, his legs touching mine.

“Hey, Blitzo. I, umm, should I ask how I got here?” I questioned, preparing myself for the story that Blitzo had to tell, this should be good.

“Before you ask, because I have a feeling that’s the first thing you’re thinking about, your brother and his friends are fine. They got home safely and then I brought you down here to rest!” Blitzo explained, my eyes widening in fear at the idea of what he could’ve possibly done.

“For the love of God, Blitzo, please tell me the car’s in one piece. Please tell me no one got hurt.” I begged, shaking in anticipation, and not even hearing the room door open as I turned to see Moxxie come in.

“Actually, I helped drive,” The other imp claimed. “Not to be rude towards your new boyfriend, Elijah, but I had a very strong feeling that if my boss were to drive, it wouldn’t be pleasant. That and he introduced himself and the rest of us to your brother and friends.” Blitzo, you did not. You did fucking not.

“What, they were nice!”

“Sir, excuse my language, but you fucking scared them!” When Moxxie said those words, I didn’t even want to imagine how he scared and possibly scared them for life.

“Oh my God, Blitzo, why…”

“Don’t worry about it, Eli, you’re lucky I didn’t tell them about our little love-making session.”

“Sir, that’s WAY too much information.”

I didn’t know how to feel exactly with my brother knowing about Blitzo and the others, but as the conversation between him and Moxxie continued, I couldn’t help but think about that night, what I experienced with Blitzo and the things we did together, how he confessed his love and then made love to me. It felt unreal to think about knowing that the imp I spent the most time with actually liked me that way. That’s when I smiled and felt really glad that night ended up being in my favor.

[unholyhelbig]

Beca and Emily telling Katherine about their relationship 👌🏻

Title: It’s Time we Tell Her 

Words:  1200

AO3 Link 

The chair creaked in a loud execution of silence. It cut against the air, blade sharp and mercy nonexistent. The atmosphere of the room suffered before falling to the ground in a mess of nerves wetter than the sweat that collected against Beca Mitchell’s palm. She tightened her grip against the handle of the white coffee mug enough to crack it. It didn’t shatter, instead leaking just enough black coffee to stain the table in a few drops.

She had barely moved since they took a seat next to the window of the small café. The logo that was painted on the glass was backward like they were on the wrong side of t a mirror. She had traced the lettering more than once out of nerves, counted the way it dipped and curved and shifted until it created something cohesive.

“Beca,” It sounded like a scream underwater. Distant. “Beca.”

Fingers touched her arm gently and she snapped out of her little daze. Her heart was in her throat and she pulled her cerulean stare away from the people walking their dogs past a pane of glass. Emily’s grasp was subtle and electrifying against clammy skin. “You went somewhere else for a second. You okay?”

“Yeah, yes.” She said, “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“Beyond.”

The word came out breathy and almost noncoherent. She didn’t’ feel the need to push down the admitted secret. Emily would understand, perhaps she understood better than anyone. It was her mother- the woman who raised her, the woman who carved out a legacy in the very house she had called her own for the past three years. Katherine Junk was a force to be reckoned with and every part of the woman terrified Beca to no end. Emily seemed unfazed, however.

“meeting her is… It’s scary enough as it is. She’s a strong woman.”  

Emily’s amused stare softened then if that was even possible. Beca found herself wondering if they had the same eyes if Emily had inherited her kind nature from her mother or her father- though she assumed it was from Katherine. Prayed to whatever God that would listen, that it was.

“Beca, listen to me-“ Emily’s knee pressed against her own. A heat that was impossible to ignore. “My mother sees you as the Bella who changed the course of Barden’s Acapella history! I mean, for goodness sake, you’ve taken them to a new level. My mother might be traditional, but she was a bit of a trailblazer herself back in the day.”

Beca gulped at her scalding drink to quiet the fire in her mind, if not for a moment. Emily was sure to be right- they still had a Victorian style oil painting in the hallway of her mothers’ era of Bella’s. Beca felt like she was being judged by every eye in those paintings.

“It’s one thing when you introduce me as a friend, but this is completely different. Besides, I killed that legacy, Em.”

“yes, but you built it back up, didn’t’ you?” She squeezed Beca’s shoulder with a kind gaze. “She’s all bark and no bite. We’ve been together for almost a year now and she has yet to know the truth. We decided this together, and if she’s going to go for anyone’s throat, it’s mine.”

“I don’t know if that’s comforting or not.”

“Let’s go with the plain fact that it is. Consider me cannon fodder.” Emily glanced towards the counter where her own latte was being presented by the woman trapped behind the front counter. She stood and gave Beca’s shoulder one last squeeze. “I will be right back.”

She nodded, certain anxiety rising in her stomach. Each time the bell above the door chimed it’s deathly ring her chest would seize up and her palms would sweat a little more. Emily, being Emily, was busy sharing a conversation with the barista in her naturally charismatic way.

Finally, the bell tolled for a third time and Katherine Junk in al of her glory walked through those doors. Her eyes seemed to track Beca like a homing beacon, her stare locked in and oh, at least she was smiling. Beca stood herself, offering up a handshake because it was the polite thing to do. That’s what her father taught her.

“Hi, you must be Mrs. Junk. I’m Beca-“

“It’s a pleasure, Beca. And you can call me Katherine.” She said lowering herself into the opposite seat of Beca “It’s great to finally meet you, Emily never shuts up about you.”

“That’s not at all true.” Emily returned to the table, leaning down to give her mother an awkward half-hug. “Hi mom, it’s good to see you.”

The two of them settled in while Emily set another cup in front of her mother. And for a few moments, they sat in an itching silence that made Beca’s skin burn. She had rolled little tiny balls out of the nearest napkin.

“So,” Katherine swallowed a gulp of her coffee “What was so urgent that I had to rush over here?”

“Not urgent, per se- not not urgent either. This is neutral, wouldn’t you say, Beca?”

“Uhh”

Emily’s mother raised an eyebrow and sat back in her seat. She knew her daughter just like Beca did. Emily tended to ramble when she got anxious just like Beca tended to freeze up like a man trapped under an icy pond. Quite the pair two of them made.

“Oh come on, out with it-” She waved her hand in front of her face.

“Beca and I are seeing each other.” Emily’s words were a form of information vomit, Beca barely understanding at first. “Like, seeing as in dating. Not seeing as in every day because we live in the same house, of course, we see each other every day. Sometimes more than once a day!”

She barely took a breath, and Beca found herself slipping her hand into Emily’s, resting on the table like an open invitation. She gave it a slight squeeze just as Emily remembered she needed air, dragging a thick helping of air.

Beca found her wits about herself “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. At first, we were just trying to figure things out. What everything meant and who we both were as people… and then regionals kind of took center focus”

Katherine stared between the two of them as another round of silence settled against the air. Beca needed her to say something, to yell, to storm out. Not just sit there and mull things over, though she respected that too. It was agony and she could feel her sweat pooling against her collarbone.

Emily was rubbing her thumb against the inside of Beca’s palm and she figured she would focus on that instead of the increasingly sinking feeling in her stomach.

“You break her heart and I’ll track you down and ruin you myself.”

“Mom!”

“I’m serious Emily!” Katherine threw her hands up in the air. “Truthfully I don’t care who you bring home as long as they mean well. I’ve given this conversation to everyone before and Beca is no different. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Beca nodded with exaggeration. “You have my word.”

Katherine had the same look in her eye as a father with a shotgun propped up next to his recliner when a boy steps through those doors with a fancy flower in a plastic box. Beca wouldn’t mess with him and she sure as hell wouldn’t mess with Katherine Junk.

“Good.” She lowered her shoulders “Now that that’s out of the way, Beca, tell me about regionals?”

[evanpetersfs]

1994 // Tate Langdon

Title: 1994 Summary: The Reader wants to introduce Tate to her parents but he refuses. She finds out that her mother, who survived the Westfield shooting, has the answer after she accidently spills his last name. Warning(s): Swearing, Mention of School Shooting Type: Imagine/Drabble, Angst

1994

Everything was silent, the school paralyzed in fear from the two shots that had been fired out near the classroom. Tatum Beilging, Matthew Smith, and Kaylee Cris had been working on an extra-credit project in the library when the shots had been fired. Five other students were in with them, all just as confused.

The library door opened and then quickly shot revealing  Kevin Gedman. He looked frantic and scared, the teacher that was present in the library looked confused as well. Kevin looked at all nine of us “There's some guy out... he has a shotgun. He shot people he just fired it off,” Kevin breathed out.

The doorknob turned before pounding on the door furthered the tension in the room. Finally, it stopped, the teacher in the room quickly walked to the other door on the opposite side of the room just as whoever the shooter was started to open it and frantically bang on the door. We all looked at each other before running off into different parts of the room. I hid in a backroom that often had a tech in it, he was gone today.

I heard a loud shot and glanced out of the room as I saw the protective teacher stumble back as he bled. Falling down the door opened and the shooter walked in. I knew who it was, my mother knew his. Constance Langdon seemed like an okay woman, her son Tate Langdon was a loner and quiet. I had worked on a school project with him once.

He walked around the room calmly, carrying a large shotgun over his shoulder. Stephanie Boggs had hidden behind a bookcase something that was easy to spot. Tate walked through a couple aisles whistling to himself as he did, finally, he reached the aisle in front of Stephanie and push a group of the book towards her causing her to scream. He walked around delivering a shot to her.

Kevin Gedman was next, then it was Amir Stanley who was trying to call the cops as Tate shot him point-blank. After that, I heard two more shots and a loud scream which I recognized as Tatum. He walked around a bit more before Kyle Greenwell came out from underneath a table and bravely confronted Tate, he was shot too. Tate walked over to the table he was at where Chole Stapleton was hiding underneath, Tate threw the table backward shooting her too. After that, he left, calmly leaving the room alone. Alone with me left with the dead bodies of my peers, calmly as if nothing had even happened.

My mother had told me her story a thousand times. The story of the Westfield shooting was famous, and she was even more famous for being the only teenager who walked out with no scratches. I had always wondered how she moved on so easily, so easily we even moved into the same house the shooter once lived in.

Truth be told, I didn’t know much about the shooting. I usually tune her out so I couldn’t tell you the names of the shooters. She had started telling me about it when I attended Westfield, but by the time that happened, I was already having a fascination.

The beautiful Tate Langdon. He had told me about how the ‘Murder House’ was haunted by many residents, one of them being him. Yes, Tate was a ghost but he was better than any human boyfriend I could get.

Tate was kind, loving, smart, and supportive. There wasn’t a moment with him I was sad but he had one flaw. He refused to meet my family, yes, I know it could be awkward but they haven’t noticed him before so what could go wrong? It had stirred some problems so far. Little arguments about how if he cared he would meet them that would end up with me being sad and him angry. We’d always apologize soon after though and then we returned to our happy selves.

But I had started to think that it was odd he wouldn’t meet my parents. Whenever I asked him why he wouldn’t he would always just say he didn’t feel like it was right. What was wrong with it though? He would never answer that.

I sat at the kitchen counter eating some strawberries, me and Tate had another argument. My mother walked in and noticed my somber mood, she put a hand on my back “Are you okay, Y/N?” she asked concerned.

I looked up at her “Tate keeps saying no to meeting you guys,” I told her huffing.

She sighed hearing that again “Maybe he just isn’t ready honey,” she sighed walking to the fridge “What’s his name anyway?”

I looked at her “Tate, Tate Langdon.”

My mother turned around her brows furrowed in anger “That isn’t funny Y/N, did one of your friends want you to do that?” she asked me.

I looked at her confused “What? No, that’s his name!” she shook her head. “He must have some sick parents, who name their kid after a school shooter?”

I giggled as Tate playfully kissed my neck giggling himself. His arms were wrapped around my waist as we lay on the bed together, Tate being his usual self.

“He must have some sick parents, who name their kid after a school shooter?” 

I couldn’t get her words out of my head but I told myself it was just that, Tate had told me about his cruel mother she would do something like that. I mean Constance hated my mother it would be hysterical for her to watch.

Tate kissed my chin and then my lips breaking my thoughts. I smiled putting one of my hands in his curly blond hair. He pulled away with a sigh, laying on his side he let me cuddle with him.

“He must have some sick parents, who name their kid after a school shooter?” 

I looked up at him and bit my lip “Hey, Tate...”

He smiled at me “Yeah kitten?” he asked brushing some hair out of my face.

“When did you die?” I asked him putting one of my hands on his cheek. He looked a bit confused “1994, why?”

I sat up pulling away from him slightly “Tate, you said that S.W.A.T killed you... right?” He nodded back to me. I looked at him “Were you the Westfield shooter?”

He didn’t answer, he just stared at me with his eyes wide looking as if he was going to tremble. I stood up from the bed “Tate, were you the shooter? Did you shoot them? Is that why you won’t meet my parents because you almost killed my mom?!” I asked frantically.

He looked down “I’m sorry,”

I trembled and backed away from him and shook my head “Go away.” I whispered to myself, I looked at him and saw his eyes watering as he cried. Shaking his head he got up running towards me “Don’t do this--” 

“GO AWAY!”

Silence filled the room just the same as it did the day that Westfield got shot up. And Tate felt the light and warmth leave his heart as he was left, once again, abandoned in the basement crying as the girl he loved had found out his dark secret from 1994.

[crashdevlin]

To Hell and Back-6: Hello and Goodbye

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series.

Summary: Marion makes it out of Hell. Dean gets sent there.

Pairing(s): none

Word Count: 4698

Chapter Warnings: Hell, mentions of torture, mentions of child abuse, demon deals, canon-appropriate character death (Dean in No Rest for the Wicked)

Marion slowly made her way through hell, slinking through the shadows and trying to avoid being seen. She made it to where the map led her and was face with a metal ladder. "Climbing. Of course there's climbing." She whispered to herself, folding up the map and stuffing it into the decayed fabric that was once her bra, and started to pull herself slowly from rung to rung. "Got no muscle. Got no energy. Of course I have to climb a fucking ladder." She complained to no one.

Smoke-form demons were swirling above her head, waiting for the door to open, waiting for the chance they'd been promised. She was only halfway up the ladder when the doors were pushed open. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the door started to push closed. "Oh, god, please." She whimpered, pulling harder, trying with all of her might to get up to the doors before they shut on her. A rush of light came up from underneath her, wrapping what felt like strong arms around her, pulling her free of the metal rungs and carrying her up the rest of the ladder. She was deposited on the grass outside the doors, just as they were pushed closed.

She lay on her back with her eyes closed, taking her first breath of fresh, cool air in two hundred and forty years. The grass felt so cold and soft compared to the hot stone she'd spent the last couple centuries on. The sound of a pump shotgun loading was loud in her ears and she knew there was a hunter standing over her, about to blow her away. "Ellen, wait! That's... I think... holy shit, that's Marion! Just... give her room!" A familiar voice said, before she was being lifted into a warm embrace and her senses were flooded by the smell of whiskey, gunpowder, and engine grease. Bobby.

Marion cried the few tears her body would relinquish, but her body continued to be wracked with sobs, long past the point where the salt water stopped rolling. She heard a gun shot and a few moments later the noise surrounding her died down. Daring to pull back a little and try to look around, she saw her brothers and an older brunette woman standing around Bobby, who was staring down at her with his brand of fatherly worry. Dean looked scared and angry, and he had a gash across his forehead. Sam just looked confused. The woman still had her shotgun ready to shoot Marion, grip tight on the handle.

"You were in Hell?" Dean growled. "What the fuck?"

"Dean." Bobby warned.

"I'll explain everything." She whispered. "Just... after."

"After what?" The older woman, Bobby called her 'Ellen', asked.

"After I regain..." She drifted as she lost consciousness. The adrenaline was gone and, with it, any energy she had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion woke slowly. She could tell she was laying somewhere soft, her sensitive body able to distinguish two separate cushions underneath her. The couch in Bobby's library, most likely. She could hear coffee mugs and a coffee pot being moved in a room behind her. Bobby's kitchen. She kept her eyes closed, afraid that she'd be immediately questioned as soon as her eyes opened. She took the time to cover all of the bases in her head, to come up with a lie, an excuse, something to say. She slowly moved her hand across her chest to confirm that her contract was still right where she'd left it, before slowly blinking her eyes open. Bobby was looking down at her. She tried to sit up but her destroyed muscles wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, hey. Slow down, girl." Bobby whispered, dropping to her side and helping her sit up. He grabbed some pillows and tucked them behind her to support her back. She offered him a weak smile in return as her brothers walked in from the kitchen, mugs in hand.

"So, what happened to you?" Dean asked, roughly. "No offense, but you look like a fuckin' Holocaust survivor."

She chuckled, lightly, a sound that had grown unfamiliar to her and hurt her throat. "The demon who did this to me... he bragged about possessing an SS soldier in Poland, so... it's kinda like I am."

She closed her eyes. Keeping them open was too much effort. "I was on a hunt. I stumbled upon some yellow-eyed demon talking about his plan for... for Sam and kids like him. Said something about gathering them, needing a soldier. He said he'd been manipulating us all from the day Mom died." She took a deep breath and continued. "He saw me. He knew who I was. He knew I'd try to warn you, so... he took me to Hell to keep me from ruining his plan."

The men looked between themselves. "Not that we ain't grateful an' all, Marion, but why didn't he just kill you?" Bobby asked, softly.

"Said if I died I'd go to Heaven and the angels or whoever the fuck is supposed to be up there would know the plan. Had to keep me alive to keep me out of Heaven."

"Better be glad demons are so fuckin' superstitious. The thought of Heaven kept you alive." Dean scoffed.

"Hell's real enough. Why wouldn't Heaven be?" Sam asked, his eyebrows tucked together.

"If Heaven were real, an innocent woman would never have been in Hell for two years." Dean spat.

Marion chuckled, ruefully. "Two years. If only." She blinked her eyes open and shook her head. "Time runs... so much slower up here. I was in that cell for two hundred and thirty-nine years. I counted every day." She was failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but she was trying. "If I'd been fed... if I could've moved... I'd've pulled an Edmond Dantes and come out a better person, but for all that time... I've got nothing but scars to show. All I could do was meditate."

"Speaking of being fed, you must be starving." Dean started for the kitchen.

"Wait!" She called, weakly. "My metabolism is used to getting, like, a hundred calories a day. I've been in preservation mode for a couple centuries, dude. If I start eating normally, it will kill me. Let's start... a cup of coffee... little bit of sugar."

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck. "I feel like you need a hospital, Marion. This... is a lot for home medics."

"An' tell 'em, what, at the hospital? She's been in Hell, Sam. There ain't a clinic fer folk who pop outta Hell damaged and we can't afford the attention from the damned police." Bobby growled.

"Look, Sam. I don't need a hospital. You're still our research guy, right? Why don't you research muscle rehab for me? Find out what they do for folks in similar situations. Holocaust, kidnapping victims who escape, anorexia rehab. How do I get my muscle back and get back in the field?"

"What do you mean, 'back in the field'?" Dean shook his head. "No. You aren't hunting, Marion."

"Of course I am, D. I saw what escaped from that Devil's Gate before I got out. The number of demons on Earth just went up a hundred fold. We need as many hands on deck as possible and, you know what? For the first time ever, I'm older than you and you don't have a fuckin' say." She took a deep breath and turned back to Sam. "I know that there's gotta be rehab programs. Tell me what I can do and I'll do it." Sam sighed and nodded, so Marion turned to Bobby. "Hey, Bobby, can you take me over near the fire, please? I'm fuckin' freezing."

"Dean, can you take 'er? I'm gonna help Sam." Bobby followed Sam into the kitchen to get laptops running and Dean leaned down, picking his twin up with absolutely no effort. He set her in Bobby's desk chair and rolled her to the fireplace. He knelt down next to her and she bit her lip as she looked into the flames.

"So. Does Sammy know, yet?" Marion whispered.

"Yeah." Dean licked his lips. "He figured it out about the time Jake looked at him and said 'I killed you'. Couldn't really deny it."

Marion shook her head, lazily. "He's smart. He'll be trying to keep you out of the fire, but, Dean... He won't be able to save you."

Dean tensed. "Yeah, well, if you could survive it, maybe so can I. Maybe I can even find a way to climb out like you and Dad."

"It won't be the same for you." She said, bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"This..." She gestured at herself with a skeletal hand. "The deprivation, the solitude, the torture, it's what they did to me because they couldn't do what they normally would. It would have killed me. You won't be afforded the same. You will be a soul, Dean, and you will die every day for eternity."

She looked over at her brother and debated whether or not to continue speaking. Her throat told her to stop, as it went dry and tried to prevent sound from getting loose, but her heart overrode it. He needed to know. "There's a difference, you know, in how a person screams the very first time they get cut and how they scream when all their pain receptors are already going. It got to where I could hear that difference. Hell, it runs like a machine, one you can set a clock by. Or you can count the days. When I heard the screams of the new cuts, I'd mark the wall."

She looked away from Dean. "You will be a soul, and they will torture you and they'll kill you, They'll twist you, make you dark, make you like them. If you managed to climb out of Hell, you wouldn't be you... and I wouldn't blame you for any of it, except selling your soul and getting shafted in the negotiations."

"Didn't get-"

"Yes, you did, D. A year. Standard deal is ten and you got one year."

"It's better than Dad got." He sighed. "I needed Sammy back. It's my job to protect him."

"And he's gonna research his ass off to save you. That's his job." Dean nodded. "And I hope you don't hold this against me, Dean, but... I can't burn myself trying to keep you out of the fire. I just... I spent too long in the flames."

Dean nodded. "I get it."

"And I get that you only have a year left and you aren't gonna sit around wasting it with watching your broken sister rehab her emaciated body. I just ask that... after your year of boozing and whoring, when it gets down to the wire and Sammy throws his Hail Mary to save you, that you call me... because it's gonna be my job to be there for him when it fails."

Dean nodded again. "I promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost a year later when Marion's phone rang. She'd barely heard from her brothers. They didn't want to worry her with their bullshit and she didn't want to bore them with her health issues and she didn't want to listen to their harassment when she started hunting again. The Winchesters kept tabs on each other through the filter of Bobby Singer.

"Hey." Dean's voice came through her phone. "Down to the wire. Sam's got a Hail Mary. We've got this knife, it kills demons. We're on the way to try to gank the bitch who holds my contract. New Harmony, Indiana. Can you get there?"

Marion pulled up a map on her laptop and Googled New Harmony. "I'm in Texas. I think I can get there in twelve."

"All right. We'll try not to start without you."

Marion got there in eleven hours. As she watched her brothers sneaking around this little suburb of faux paradise from her car, she realized how much better she blended in than they did. Even if the demons weren't on high alert, they would've stuck out. As Dean disappeared around the corner of a house, she got out of her car and followed over. She stopped at the corner, still just watching as Sam and Dean spoke to a blond woman. Something was off about her, but from the angle she had, Marion couldn't see her well enough to figure out exactly what.

"You'll get it when this is over." Sam said.

"It's already over." The blond rebutted. "I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead, and I'm not gonna let you die, too." Marion knew, then, what it was about the blond that made her uneasy. What she could see of the woman's face told her that it wasn't a woman, but a demon. Something familiar about it.

"Try and stop me and I'll kill you. Bitch." Sam growled.

"Hit me with your best shot, baby."

"What is this? Are you working with demons, now?" Marion whispered, stepping toward her brothers.

The blond smirked, her eyes narrowing. "Like you have any room to talk."

Marion's stomach twisted as she realized the demon in front of her obviously knew about her deal. "You shut your whore mouth." She growled through clenched teeth.

The blond laughed, quietly, but with a lot of glee. "They don't know!"

"Know what?" Dean asked, his eyebrows tucking together.

The demon turned back to Dean, a smile on her vessel's lips. "Why she was sent to the Pit. She overheard something she shouldn't have, while in the process of working with a demon. A low-level crossroads demon that she made a deal with, who unlike me is not reformed. The only way they could even bring her to Hell was the clause in her contract allowing it."

"What?!" Sam and Dean exclaimed in a combined stage whisper, rage in their eyes.

"Don't you dare judge me! At least I didn't sell my soul like you and Dad!" Marion bit her lip, rubbing a knuckle across her eyebrow. She looked away from her brothers, focused on her shotgun. "You know... you might not believe this, but that demon saved my life more times than I can count. In his own weird demonic way, he cared for me." She looked up and caught Dean's eyes. "He once called me the only thing he had worth taking. I knew him for twelve years before I ever considered making a deal with him. If it weren't for him, I'd still be in Hell. He drew me a map to the Devil's Gate, drew it on the back of my contract and told me to burn the thing when I got home, so that they could never take me back."

"Yeah? You didn't give him your soul? Then, what was the contract for? What'd you give him?" Dean asked, coldly.

"My work." She answered, her lips tight. "He was losing people. Folks were skipping out on their sentences, buying extra time through hiding, and he wasn't powerful enough to get topside whenever he wanted in order to help his hounds find their targets. He needed someone who could walk through a Devil's Trap and salt lines in order to give the dogs their directions."

"So, you helped sentence people to Hell?" Dean almost growled the words.

She shook her head. "No. They sentenced themselves. They made their deals. I just helped make sure they held up their end of the bargains."

"And what'd you get for it, huh? What was worth that?" Sam asked, obviously angry that both of his siblings had made demon deals.

"Dad stopped hitting me, didn't he?" Marion said, turning to look at her twin, her green eyes challenging his.

Dean's eyebrows scrunched together again. "But we were sixteen when that happened. You tellin' me you met this guy when we were four?"

Marion's eyes went wide at his words. She blinked a few times, before shaking her head. "Y-you remember? You knew? And you've been telling me for years that I... I was making it up? You m-made me think I was crazy, made me doubt."

"Shit." Dean looked from Marion to Sam, who was also looking shocked. "Well, Sammy, he was already starting to question the old man by the time you had the balls to bring it up to us. He was already questioning Dad's authority and I... I couldn't have you adding more shit to that pile, so I told you... I said you were a liar so that you'd stow it."

Rage radiated through Marion, then petered out into sadness. "I get it." She said, finally. She licked her lips and shook her head. "I really do. Protect Sammy and idolize the old man were always the biggest motivations of your personality, D." She said, bitterly, before turning to the blond. "But I'll tell ya, Dean. I've been hanging with demons since we were four years old, and I spent the equivalent of two centuries in Hell, and I've never heard of a reformed demon."

"Well, now you have. Name's Ruby and I've saved your brothers' asses on many an occasion."

"I'm sure Azazel would thank you if he were still alive."

"Guys, guys. Have your little cat fight later." Dean said, pulling their attention to the neighborhood, where several demons were standing around, staring at them with black eyes. "So much for the element of surprise."

"Let's go. Go. Run. Run!" Sam pushed the gate open and ran toward the house Lilith had taken. Sam started working to pick the lock on the front door as Dean looked around at the demons rushing toward them.

"What the hell's takin' Bobby?" Dean asked.

The twins and Ruby turned to look at Sam, obviously having trouble picking the lock with the added pressure. "Get a move on, Sam. Demons closing in." Marion growled.

"I'm trying!"

Marion watched as demons started to run at them across the lawn, sprinklers springing up and spraying them with water. The water seemed to burn, causing them to scream and flail their arms. Holy water. She chuckled as Sam finally made it past the lock. Dean laughed loudly, tauntingly, in the faces of the demons before patting his sister on the back and walking into the house behind Ruby. Marion closed the door, looking down at a dead man.

"You think Lilith knows we're here?" Dean asked.

"Probably." Ruby answered, before they started to walk stealthily through the house, Ruby following Sam, Dean following behind Marion and Marion not letting Ruby out of her sight. She turned as a man jumped out of a cabinet and Dean grabbed him, hand going firmly over his mouth.

Dean shushed the man before whispering, "We're here to help. Okay? I'm gonna move my hand and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, okay?" The man nodded so Dean removed his hand slowly.

"Sir, where is your daughter?" Sam asked from behind Ruby.

"It's not... it's not her anymore."

"Where is she?" Sam insisted.

"Upstairs. In her bedroom."

Dean still had his arm around the man as he started speaking. "Okay, okay, okay. Listen to me. I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife." The man said, quickly.

"Yes, without your wife." Marion whispered.

"No, not-" The man started to respond, but Dean punched his lights out, obviously not wanting to waste any of his short time with arguing. He picked the man up and slung him over his shoulder. He threw a look at the others before walking away. Marion followed him, stopping in the kitchen to grab a salt grinder from the table. Dean dropped the man on the floor of the basement and Marion pulled the top off of the salt grinder to make a line at the door. They stepped over the line, slowly heading up the stairs to the girl's room. Sam stood over the girl, psyching himself up to stab the child. Marion focused in on the little girl's face. "She's not-"

Dean nodded, rushing forward to grab Sam's arm. "It's not her! It's not in the girl, anymore." Sam's breath came in heavy as the ramifications of what he almost did hit him. The mother wrapped her arms around the girl and picked her up, heading out of the room. "All right, no matter what you hear... you, your husband and your daughter stay in the basement." Dean ordered the woman, who just nodded and rushed down the stairs into the basement. Dean followed her to make sure the salt line was still good, but Marion stayed behind with Sam and Ruby.

"Well, I hate to be a 'told you so'." Ruby quipped.

"All right, Ruby. Where is she?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know." She answered, entering the living room.

"Could she get past the sprinklers?"

"Her pay grade, she ain't sweating the holy water."

Sam turned to her, suddenly. "Okay, you win. What do I have to do?"

Ruby tilted her head, questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"To save Dean." Sam said, as Dean walked up behind him, standing next to Marion. "What do you need me to do?"

Dean grabbed his shoulder and tried to turn him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sam didn't let his brother turn him, keeping his eyes on the demon. "Just shut up for a second. Ruby!"

"You had your chance. You can't just flip a switch. We needed time."

"Well, there's gotta be something. There gotta be some way. Whatever it is, I'll do it." Marion leaned back against the wall as Dean grabbed their brother. "Don't- Dean. I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!"

"Yes, you are!" Dean shouted, before his face softened. "Yes, you are. I'm sorry. I mean, this is all my fault, I know that. But what you are doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you." He finished, calmly.

"Then, what am I supposed to do?"

Dean let out a sad sigh. "Keep fighting. And take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you... okay?" Sam nodded, his eyes filling up with tears. "And remember what I taught you."

Marion watched her brothers fighting back their tears, then looked at her feet. It was the only way to hold back her own. Her eyes shot back up as a grandfather clock on the opposite wall started to chime midnight. Her brothers looked around and then at each other as tears started rolling down Sam's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Ruby said. "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

Marion and Dean both turned their heads toward the dining room as a growling sound met their ears. Dean's face fell in fear as his eyes fell upon the dog. "Hellhound." The twins said, quietly.

"Where?" Sam asked, looking around, even though he knew he couldn't see it.

"There." Dean nodded slightly toward the archway into the dining room.

Ruby's eyes fell on the hound, as well, and the hound barked, loudly. Dean ran and the party followed. Marion fell behind as they ran through the hallway, ending up behind the hound as it pushed past her to get at Dean. She watched as the hound pounded itself into the doors which Sam and Ruby were holding. Goofer dust poured through under the door and the hound stopped, pacing back and forth a few times before turning and looking at Marion. Sam and Dean stared at her through the window, Dean being able to see the hound turning on her. She put her hands up in a nonthreatening manner, shaking a little as the hound pattered toward her. "H-hey. You-you're a pretty dog. Almost as big as-as Fergus' favorite. She's called... she's Juliet. Yeah... she's... huge. You've got big teeth."

Marion shook her head at her brothers as the knob started to turn on the office door. They had to stay there. If they opened that door to try to save her from this hellhound, that'd leave Dean vulnerable. Besides, this wasn't the first hellhound she'd had to keep from killing her. She put her hand out and spoke soothingly to the hound. "I smell a lot like your target, don't I? That's 'cause we were in the womb together. But I've got another smell on me, though, right? One you recognize, right? See?" She breathed out a steady stream of breath toward the hound's face. It whined, then barked. She jumped and laughed in shock. "Sit." She ordered and it followed direction.

"Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!" Dean shouted from the office.

Marion clicked her tongue, trying to keep the hounds attention on her. "Stay with me, puppy. Right here. This is a Winchester with sulfur in her lungs, much more interesting than an noise in an office, right? Stay with me." She begged. Her hand shook as she patted its head and listened to the sound of the fight in the office. She should have known. She knew that face, that familiar ugly visage.

"And Marion..." Lilith said, raising her voice enough that it could be heard easily through the door. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you were locked up in the bowels of Hell." Marion didn't respond, working to keep the attention of the hound. That didn't last long, though, because there was no way to keep the hound's attention as Lilith opened the door and said, "Sic 'em, boy." Marion watched as the hound barreled in and grabbed Dean from the table with its jaws and slashing him to pieces. She closed her eyes tightly as blood poured out of her twin and he screamed.

"No! Stop!" Sam shouted. "Stop it! No! No. Stop it. Stop it! No!"

"Yes." Lilith said, happily. Marion opened her eyes as white light poured out of Lilith's hand. She watched Lilith's face as she realized that Sam was still alive. She put her hand up as Sam walked forward. "Back! I said, back!"

Sam bent down to pick up the Kurdish knife as Marion ran to grab the demon. "I don't think so." Sam growled, pulling back to stab her, but Lilith threw Ruby's head back and shrieked out a plume of black smoke into the vent above her. As Ruby's body fell to the floor, Sam turned to look at Dean. He dropped the knife as Marion put a hand over her mouth, trying to hold in a sob. Sam dropped to his knees, pulling Dean into his lap. "No... no... Dean... Dean, please."

Marion shook her head, trying to swallow the feelings in her chest. She put her hand on Sam's shoulder and closed her eyes to shut out the image of her twin torn to pieces. No tears pulled from her eyes as she hardened herself. "Sam... we have to go. Pick him up and let's go."

Sam nodded, standing and carrying Dean out of the house. He didn't say a word as tears rolled down his face. Bobby met Sam and Marion in the yard. "Damn it!" He exclaimed.

"Come on. We gotta get wood... make a pyre." Marion said, emotionless.

"No." Sam said, walking toward the Impala.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Son, we need to salt and burn him so he don't come back a ghost."

"He's gonna need a body when I get him back." Sam said.

"No." Marion grabbed Sam's bicep, but he pulled away violently. She sighed. "Sam, hunters get burned for a reason. Salted and burned so that they don't end up having to be hunted later." She argued.

"I'm not gonna let you burn him. I will find a way to bring him back and he's gonna need a body." Sam growled. "You... you and Bobby need to... to find or, or make a casket. Dean and I... we're gonna go on one last ride." Sam said, getting into the driver's seat of the Impala and letting the tires screech as he pulled out, quickly.

Supernatural Tags- @letsby, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @adoptdontshoppets

[iamcmims]

SUPERNATURAL: Olivia Parker: Wendigo

Words count: 11K

A/N: Sorry for posting this part on Tumblr this late! It’s been on wattpad since Sunday and I had no time to post it here! I posted the other day that I had no access to internet, so the chapter three “Dead In The Water” would be posted later, well, turns out internet is back and working! So I can get back on this new chapter and post it either Sunday or Monday! 

Feedback always appreciated! If you want to be tagged, feel free to ask! 

Warning: Blood, injuries, insults, angst, violence. 

PREVIOUS PARTS: Pilot

NEXT PARTS: Dead In The Water  — Phantom Traveler — Bloody Mary — Skin — Hook Man — The Fight — Home

Previously on Olivia Parker...

In one of the several suburban homes, Olivia Parker was sitting on her bed in the darkened bedroom, looking at her closet that opened itself, making Olivia scream.

In another home, Mary Winchester runs up the stairs into her youngest son's, Sam, nursery. John Winchester gives baby Sam to Dean, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Now, Dean, go!"

After Olivia's mother, Caitlyn closed the doors; it once again opened itself. A silhouette comes out of it; it looks around until it spots what it was looking for. The shape walks to the wooden desk and takes a picture of Olivia and her parents. "It has begun."

Dean runs downstairs with Sam and leaves the house. John goes back to the nursery and watches his wife, Mary burn on the ceiling. "Mary! No!" John watches the nursery burn, Mary with it.

31st October 2000.

Olivia was now older, dressed in black, looking at herself in a mirror. Her mother looks at her, "Are you ready?", "Yes. As ready as I can be on the day I bury my husband and child."

Olivia stayed until the end of the ceremony when everyone had left, she kneels down, "I'm going to find what did this to you and I'm going to kill it, no matter what it takes."

October 31st, 2005.

Sam watches his brother that was in his and Jess, his girlfriend, apartment. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days." Sam put his arm off of his girlfriend, keeping his eyes on Dean, "Jess, excuse us."

In the stairwell from Sam's apartment, Sam speaks to Dean, "I swore I was done hunting. For good.", "I can't do this alone."

In Sam's bedroom, Jess speaks to Sam. "And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them?", "Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Asks Sam.

In John's motel room, Sam looks at the photo John left of the three Winchesters.

"Dean, we were raised like warriors."

Olivia smiled and tilted her head, "Did you really think I would be this stupid? Come on, show me some respect." As she finished her sentence, Olivia swung her machete, beheading the vampire. "Eat this, bitch."

Olivia was in her Black 1965 Buick Riviera Gran Sport, blood on her face and clothes.

"I'm so sorry..."

Olivia sits on the bed in her motel room and dials the number of her mother. "Hey, mom. — Work is busy lately. I might stay for a little bit longer." She takes out a journal and a pen, 'November 1st, 2005. Still nothing. I killed another nest of vampire. If they knew something about the accident, they would have never told me. I  need to find what killed Conor and Joey.  But for that, I need to find John Winchester. "

Olivia was in front of a house that looked abandoned. The flashback of the night of the accident hit her. Her son looked outside, "Mom who is in the yard?" Olivia went outside and put herself in front of the man, "I said, get out. If I find you here again, I will kill you. You understand me?" The man left.          Olivia was sitting at a table with her husband, Conor who as sitting in front of her. "He didn't move, not until I put myself in front of him. He was fixing Joey's bedroom.", "Well, just to be safe, keep your gun next to you." Olivia looks up at her husband. "What do you think, Conor? I have it on me, loaded.", "It's not your fault, Livy.", "He was not human. Trust me."          "I gave up hunting, Conor. But my instincts are still there.", "This man, whether he's human or not, is not here because of you.", "Well, I won't wait to find out. I may not be in the life anymore, but I'm not stupid, I didn't erase every number.", "Who are you going to call?", "John Winchester. After all, he's the one who trained me."

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235."

A drop of blood falls on Olivia's shoulder then other ones. She looks up and sees her husband and child on the ceiling. "No!" John arrives and sees the fire starting, "Olivia! Come on let's get out.", "No! I can't leave them there!"

"How did you know?", "One call was enough to know you were in trouble.", "What happened back there, it's the same thing that happened to you, to Mary.", "We're going to find it, I promise.", "I know. Even if it is the last thing I do."

"You have responsibilities, Sam!", "To Dad? And his crusade? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. "Don't talk about her like that."

Olivia was inside the Impala with Sam, they were talking to Dean on the phone, "Dad's gone. I've got his journal. He left me a message."

Sam compares the coordinates in the journal to a map. "These coordinates he left us, it's weird, man."

Sam, Dean, and Olivia were in John's motel room that he abandoned. "Hey, Dean? What I said earlier, I'm sorry." Dean raises a hand, "no chick-flick moments."

"If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband," "If he's still alive." Sam and Dean tun around and see Olivia standing at the door. "Olivia!" Sam frowns, "wait, Olivia? Parker?"

Olivia walks over to Sam, "You know, despite everything John said to you, he was damn proud of you, Sammy.", "I guess so."

"Jess?" Sam is in his apartment, lying on the bed, eyes closed. Blood drips on his forehead, and he flinches, opens his eyes, and gasps in horror. Jess was pinned to the ceiling, bleeding. "No!"

Dean watches outside Sam's apartment the firefighters handle the situation, then goes back to Sam and Olivia at the Impala. Sam finishes loading a shotgun and tosses it in the trunk.

"We've got work to do." Sam shuts the trunk.

Today — Lost Creek, Colorado.

In the forest, two tents were set up near a fire ring. Crickets were chirping. Inside one tent, two young men, Brad and Gary, were playing head-to-head handheld video games. "Dude, you're cheating." Gary smirks, "no, you  just suck." Something growls outside. In the other tent, a third young man, Tom Collins, records a video message on his cell phone. "Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge." Something dark flicks behind the tent wall behind Tom, too fast to be identifiable as more than 'something dark'; but as Tom was recording himself, it also recorded the fast silhouette. "We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow." Tom stops recording and sends the message.          Brad closes his game system and tosses it aside. Gary stares at his system for a moment, then turns to look at Brad, who is getting up and unzipping the tent.  Gary looks at him, "hey, where ya goin'? My moment of victory.", "Nature calls." Brad goes outside and zips up the sent behind him. He goes to stand against the tree to relieve himself. The fire crackles. Something snaps a stick. Brad looks towards the sound and sees the trees rustling. Brad shakes his head and returns his attention downward, then looks up sharply. Something growls.          Inside Tom's tent, Tom, who is reading Joseph Campbell's 'The Hero With A Thousand Faces,' hears Brad scream.          Inside Gary's tent, Gary hears the same scream and rolls over. "Brad?"          Tom sits up. "Gary, what's goin' on?"         Gary opens the tent and sticks his head out to look around. He sees nothing. Then he hears growling again. He looks up; something pulls Gary out of the tent. He screams.          Tom turns out the lantern he had on. Shadows move very quickly around the outside of Tom's tent. Tom looks around, his eyes following the shadows and growling. Silence falls. Something slashes open Tom's tent, making him scream.

Olivia and Dean were in the Impala that was parked not so far from the cemetery where Sam was walking. Olivia was shotgun and Dean in the driver seat. Olivia looks at Sam then looks in front of her, fixing her eyes on a tree. Dean shifted his gaze from Sam to Olivia and then looked at Olivia. They didn't have the time or the chance to talk. Dean felt terrible for not giving her any news, just one text to make sure she knew he was alive wouldn't take long, he thought. But then again, did she want this text? Dean takes a deep breath and looks where Olivia's eyes are fixed. "How are you feeling?" Olivia gives a side glance at Dean then looks ahead. "Usual." Dean doesn't answer. "You know, Dean. You gotta stop beating yourself up. I know you were out searching for John." She looks at him. "I should have at least called." Olivia shrugs. "It's true. So should I." They look back at Sam that was wearing a suit and tie, carrying a bouquet of various flowers. "This thing took too much from us. We have to find it and kill it." Dean nods. "I know.", "Something happened to John. You know it like me." Olivia turns and looks at Dean once again. "Wherever he would go, he would have his gun and this journal. Something happened.", "I know. It's like he left his legacy. Like he's saying goodbye. Do you think we're going to find him?", "I hope. I think we've lost enough. We're going to kill this son of a bitch, and if we have to go in a blaze of glory, I say let's do it."          Sam sighs and stops next to Jessica's gravestone. On the tombstone was written 'Jessica Lee Moore,' 'Beloved Daughter,' 'January 24th, 1984 — November 2nd, 2005'. There is a small picture of a grinning Jess set into the stone above name, a black-and-white photograph of her leaning against the stone between a white teddy bear. And a wooden box with a crucifix leaning on the picture a small American Flag next to the box, and three candles standing on the gravestone; one is of the Virgin de Guadalupe. Sam looks between the headstone and the flowers. "I, uh…" Sam laughs. "You always said roses were — were lame, so I brought you, uh…" Sam looks at the picture set into the gravestone, then looks away, choking back tears. He steps closer to the gravestone. "Jess…oh God…" Sam kneels to set down the flowers. "I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth." Sam leans the flowers in front of the crucifix. An arm covered in dirt shoots out of the ground and grabs Sam by the wrist.          Sam jerks awake. He's in the backseat, Dean and Olivia were talking. Dean looks in the rearview mirror, "You okay?" Sam glances over and away. "Yeah, I'm fine." Dean nods and brings focus on the road. "Another nightmare?" Sam clears his throat. "You wanna drive for a while?" Sam and Olivia laugh. "Dean, your whole life, you never once asked me that.", "Just thought you might want to. Never mind.", "You're missing an occasion, Sam!" Sam smiles at Olivia and looks at his hands. Olivia and Dean glance at each other, having a silent conversation about Sam's state. Sam didn't miss it, "Look, guys, you're worried about me. I get it and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay." Olivia and Dean agree at the same time, "Mm-hm." Sam grabs the map in front of Olivia and goes back to his seat. "All right, where are we?" Olivia turns and looks at the map; she puts her finger where they are, "Just outside of Grand Junction." Then sits correctly on her seat, feet on the dashboard. Sam folds down the map, which is of Colorado and has a large red cross labeled 35-111. "You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon." Dean sighs, "Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you want to find the thing that killed Jessica—", "—We got to find Dad first.", "Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers for the three of us. He will know what to do." Sam frowned when Dean said for the three of them, not understanding what he meant. Dean didn't tell Olivia's story to Sam. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him. Until then he would keep the secret. "These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge." Olivia slightly moves in her seat, enough to be facing Sam. "What about it?", "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere." Olivia looks at Dean. Sam was making a point. All of this made no sense.          They drive past the National Forest sign that says, 'Welcome to LOST CREEK Colorado National Forest.'

The Impala is parked next to a sign that says 'Ranger Station Lost Creek Trail, Lost Creek National Forest.'          "So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote." Sam looks at a 3D map of the national forest, paying particular attention to the ridge labeled 'BLACKWATER RIDGE.' Dean looks at the decorations. "It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.", "Dude," Dean was smiling. "check out the size of this freaking bear." Sam and Olivia look over. Dean was looking at a framed photo of a man standing behind a much larger bear. Sam comes to stand next to Dean while Olivia stays close to the window looking outside. "And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure."          A forest ranger, Wilkinson, walk up behind them; when he speaks, Sam, Dean, and Olivia whip around startled. "You guys aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" The three of them shake their heads. Olivia walks in front of his desk. "No. We are environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." Olivia smiles, Sam laughs, and Dean grins, raising a fist. "Recycle, man." The Ranger rolls his eyes, "Bull." Sam's eyes flick to Dean, who doesn't move. Olivia does not give away any sign, she was impossible to read, thought the Ranger. "You're friends with that Haley girl, right?" Dean considers. "Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger—" Dean checks the Ranger's nametag. "Wilkinson.", "Well, I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing person now, is it?" Olivia sighs, Dean shakes his head, and the Ranger nods. "You tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine.", "We will. Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?" Dean laughs a little at the end of his sentence. The Ranger nods at Dean. "That is putting it mildly." Before they leave, Oliva frowns and takes a step closer. "Ranger, you know what would help a lot? It's if we could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know so she could see her brother's return date." The Ranger eyes Olivia, "I can't do that.", "Well," Olivia takes out a fake FBI ID, "you can. But then again, it's up to you. We'd totally get it if you don't give us the paper."

Sam, Dean, and Olivia leave the ranger station. Dean is holding the piece of paper Olivia got them, laughing. "Got to tell you something, Olivia. That was beautiful." Sam nods. "Yeah. Well, you guys heard it. It's not a missing person case.", "I still think we should go see this girl." Says Dean while looking at the paper. "What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?", "What do you mean?", "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?" They stop when they arrive at the Impala. "I don't know. Maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean and Olivia were looking at Sam. "What?" Olivia frowned and faced Sam, "Since when are you adopting John's way? Shoot first ask questions later?", "Since now." Olivia raises her eyebrows and looks at Dean. "Really?" Dean goes around the car and gets inside.          Olivia's phone rings, she takes it out of her pocket and answers. "Yes? — It's me. — Hey, Bobby. — Sure, what can I do for you? — What happened? — What do you think it is? — Yeah sounds about right. — Okay, I'm coming. — Yeah. — Don't mention it." She hung up and looks at Dean. "You will have to drop me at the motel.", "What did Bobby want?", "Werewolves nest. I'm going to help him." Dean looks at Olivia then back on the road. "You sure you should go alone?", "I won't be alone. Bobby will be here. And you seem to forget that I've been hunting alone for a moment."          Dean stopped the car at the motel room; they got out of it. Sam and Dean stood against the Impala while Olivia was taking her duffel bag off of the Impala to her Riviera passenger seat. She closes the door and walks to Sam and Dean, hands in her jacket's pocket. "Don't be a stranger, give me some news this time." Dean laughs and nods. "You got this. C'mere." Olivia puts her hands out of her pockets and hugs Dean. Dean talks low, enough for only Olivia to hear it. "You be careful out there. The thing's still out." Olivia nods and goes to Sam. "Don't do anything stupid, or anything that Dean would do." Sam laughs and nods, "Yes ma'am.", "Okay. Come here, don't make me beg for it." Sam laughs again and hugs Olivia. She lets go and get into her car, turning on the engine. Dean closes his eyes. "Ohh," he reopens them and looks at Olivia, "almost as beautiful as Baby's engine.", "Don't compare two queens, Winchester." Sam and Dean wave at Olivia while she leaves the parking lot. They get back in the Impala, driving to the girl's house.

Sam and Dean are standing at the door to a house. The door opens to reveal Haley Collins. "You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean; this is Sam, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy." Haley hesitates. "Let me see some ID." Dean pulls out a fake ID with the name Samuel Cole and holds it up against the screen. Haley looks at it, then at Dean, who smiles. Haley opens the door. "Come on in.", "Thanks." The door swings open; Haley catches sight of the Impala. "That yours?", "Yeah." Sam is looking back at the Impala. "Nice car." Haley turns to lead Sam and Dean into the kitchen, where Ben Collins is sitting at the table on a laptop. Dean turns his head to mouth something to Sam, who rolls his eyes.          "So," begins Sam "if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Haley comes back into the room with a bowl she places on the table. "He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos — we haven't heard anything in over three days now.", "Well, maybe he can't get cell reception.", "He's got a satellite phone, too.", "Could it be he is just having fun and forgot to check in?", "He wouldn't do that." Dean eyes Ben, then Ben looks away. Haley puts more food on the table. "Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.", "Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Haley nods at Sam, "Yeah." On a laptop, Haley pulls up pictures. "That's Tommy." Haley clicks twice, and another picture comes up, then the still frame opening the latest video. "Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow." Sam spots the shadow flicking past. "Well," starts Dean "we will find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing.", "Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning. And I'm going to find Tommy myself.", "I think I know how you feel.", "Hey," cuts off Sam "do you mind forwarding these to me?", "Sure."

Olivia parks in front of a motel, she takes her phone, goes to the message Bobby sent her with the number of the room. "450." She turns off the engine, takes her duffel bag and walks to Bobby's room. She knocks three times, pause for five seconds and knocks two more times. Bobby opens the door and smiles. "Hey, Kiddo. Thanks for coming.", "Sure." She enters the room, puts the duffel bag on the ground. "So what do we got?", "So far, three bodies with hearts missing.", "Yeah, so it's definitely werewolves.", "Yeah. But wait for it, they've got a type.", "What type?" Bobby looks at Olivia and raises his left eyebrow. Olivia sighs. "I'm going to play the bait, again? Come on Bobby; it's like you really want me to die." Bobby laughs. "Not my fault if you're the supernatural kind's type!", "Yeah, what can I say. Got everything for everyone. Alright, what's your plan, Singer?", "Easy. You will go to the local bar—", "One thing, this time, I don't have to wear a skirt that could almost be mistaken as my underwear?", "Nope. Just have to sit down and order a drink and wait for it.", "Fine. I will take a shower and rub the hunter smell off of me, and dress a little bit differently." Olivia takes her duffel bag and makes her way to the bathroom. "Oh, Olivia." She turns around, "How's Sam?" Olivia sighs. "Honestly? Bad. He's acting a lot like John when Mary died. Shoot first ask questions later. We already have John missing, and a mini John on the way. He's going to get himself and probably Dean, killed." Bobby sighs loudly, worried. "Sorry to bring you bad news Bob'.", "And you?", "What me?", "How are you handling?", "Bobby, it's been years you've been asking this question. You know the answer. I won't rest until I pull a damn bullet in the thing's head. After I do this, ask the question again, and I will see which answer to give." Olivia turns around and closes the bathroom door behind her. Bobby shakes his head and opens a beer, takes a big sip of it, "Those kids will be the death of me."

Sam and Dean sit down at a table in a bar. Dean takes his phone and dials Olivia's number. It goes straight to voicemail. "Hi, it's Olivia Parker. I can't be reached for the moment, if it's important leave a message and I'll call you back." Dean takes a deep breath, "Hey, Olivia, it's Dean, been trying to join you. Uh…call back whenever you can. Bye." He hung up and puts his phone in his pocket. "She's fine, Dean. No need to stress." There is a moment of silence. Sam frowns and looks at Dean. "Dean, earlier in the car, when we were talking about Dad and everything that happened to Mom and Jess, you said "three of us," so you included Olivia, what happened?", "I ain't-a kiss and tell, Sammy. If you want to know, you will have to ask her.", "This thing took something from her, am I right?" Dean didn't answer, but it was enough for Sam. "It's bigger than what we think, bigger than what Dad maybe thought.", "We will figure it out." They fall once again into silence until Sam decides to break it once more. "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But, still, this is April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found." Sam opens John's journal. "Any before that?" Asks Dean. Sam pulls out a newspaper articles to show Dean. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." Dean reads the headline in 'The Lost Creek Gazette.'          'GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA HIKERS DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES Families continue to search and rescue efforts in spite of disappointing (...)' Sam pulls out his laptop. "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936." Sam opens the laptop, which already has a window open to Tom's video. "Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay, watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out." Sam pulls up the video and goes through three frames of the video one at a time. A shadow crosses the screen. "Do it again." Sam listens to Dean and repeats the frames. "That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move." Dean hits Sam, making him look up at Dean. "Told you something weird was going on.", "Yeah." Sam closes the laptop. "I got one more thing." Sam hands over another newspaper article. "In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive." Dean looks at 'The Lost Creek Gazette.' "Is there a name?"

An old man, Mr. Shaw, talks to Sam and Dean while leading them inside his house. Mr. Shaw has a cigarette in his mouth. "Look, Ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents go mauled by a—" Sam interrupts Mr. Shaw. "Grizzly? That's what attacked them?" Mr. Shaw takes a puff of his cigarette, takes it out, and nods. "The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?" Mr. Shaw doesn't answer Dean. "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" Still no answers. "We knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it." Declares Dean. "I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make." Mr. Shaw sits down. "You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did." Sam sits down across from Mr. Shaw. "Mr. Shaw, what did you see?" Shaw pauses. "Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like…no man or animal I ever heard.", "It came at night?" Shaw nods at Sam. "Got inside our tent?" Sam presses Mr. Shaw. "It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up until I heard my parents screaming.", "It killed them?", "Dragged them off into the night." Shaw shakes his head and then continues. "Why it left me alive…been asking myself that ever since." Shaw's hands go to his collar, "did leave me this, though." Shaw opens his collar to reveal three long scars. Claw marks. Sam and Dean look at them. "There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon."

Olivia and Dean were on the phone with each other, talking about their respective cases. "So," begins Olivia, "What do you think it is?" Dean sighs, "I don't know. It attacks at night and in the woods. And the way it broke into Shaw's cabin, it was neat, like a human.", "A werewolf?", "Maybe, but they usually go for the heart, not the whole body.", "Unless they cover they trace. But once again, they would have not let the Shaw guy live. It may not be a werewolf.", "Talking about werewolves. How's your case with Bobby?", "Well tonight we caught one, told us where the nest was, so tomorrow we work on the plan, train a little, and by nightfall, we will go there and gank the whole nest.", "Be careful.", "Dean." Olivia's voice was a warning. "Hey, can't stop me from worrying."          Sam enters the room and sees Dean on the phone. He frowns at Dean, silently asking who it was, Dean mouths Olivia, making Sam nod. "Tell her I say hi." He whispers. Dean nods. And listens to Olivia. "I will be back as soon as this case is over.", "I know. Just don't rush it too much, don't get yourself killed or I will bring you back to only kill you again." Olivia laughs, making Dean giggle. "Deal, Winchester. Now, I'm going to sleep. Night, Dee.", "Night, Livy." Dean hangs up and puts his phone on the table. Sam looks at Dean with a grin. "What?" Sam shakes his head, "Nothing. So what'd she say?", "Thought of a werewolf too, but as she pointed out, Shaw would be dead if it was indeed werewolves." Sam sighs. Dean stands up, "Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.", "So it's probably something else, something corporeal.", "Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.", "Shut up. So what do you think?", "The claws, the speed that it moves… could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it."          Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the weapons box, and props it open with a shotgun. He puts some guns in a duffel bag. Sam leans in. "We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.", "Oh yeaH? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?", "Yeah." Dean looks at Sam, dumbfounded. "Her brother is missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." Dean picks up the duffel. "Finding Dad's not enough?" Sam slams the weapons box shut, then the trunk. "Now we gotta babysit too?" Dean stares at Sam, he didn't recognize Sam, Olivia was probably right, he went back on the field too soon. "What?" Dean shakes his head, "nothing." Dean throws the duffel bag at Sam and walks off, Sam staring after him.

Olivia was training outside in the small forest not so far from the motel room. She was shooting at different targets she put in front of her, not missing one. When Olivia finished, she walked closer to the targets and looked at it. She turns the safety on of her gun and runs back to the motel room. She enters the room and sees Bobby cleaning his weapons. "How's the weather, Rocky?" Olivia laughs, puts her gun on the table and takes a bottle of water from the small fridge. "The best weather to gank a next of werewolves!" Olivia takes drinks half of the bottle and puts it down. "I'm going to take a shower then we can work on the plan." Bobby nods bringing his focus back to the weapons while Olivia goes to the bathroom.          A map was on the table, Bobby and Olivia were around it. "So," Bobby puts his finger on a point on the map, "entry A. The Alpha of the nest will probably be here, protected by at least two other werewolves." He puts his finger on another point. "Entry B, that's the 'killing room,' after killing them, we should check out this place in case if there are some survivors." Olivia nods. She looks at the map and taps another point with her finger, "entry C is where we enter." Bobby nods, "but the thing is, Bobby, we will have to park the car down the block. So we will have to walk to the entry C.", "This ain't a problem, as long as we find a way kill all of them.", "Unless we get caught, we will have to run fast. Really fast and without involving the neighborhood and have more victims on our hands." Olivia stands up straight. "Our plan is what? We park the car down one block, enter by the entry C, then what?" Bobby looks at the map, "Then," he pauses and searches the map. "There is the main room, where the rest of the nest will be, around five of them." Olivia nods. "Okay, well, I say let's go have a little ride just to see the surroundings."

A man named Roy talks to Haley and Ben while checking a shotgun. They were all carrying full backpacks. "I'll tell you again, I don't think Ben should come.", "Roy—" Haley begins, but Roy cuts her off. "Look, you're paying me good money to keep everybody safe. I think Ben's safest at home." The Impala pulls up. Roy, Haley, and Ben stare. Haley shakes her head. Sam and Dean get out of the car, Sam opens the back door of the Impala and pulls out a duffel bag. "You guys got room for two more?" Haley gives Dean a questioning look. "Wait, you want to come with us?", "Who are these guys?" Asks Roy. "Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue." Sam heads past everyone. "You're rangers?", "That's right.", "And," Haley looks at Dean's shoes, "you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Dean looks down at himself. "Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts." Dean heads past Haley. "What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt." Sam turns back and looks at Roy. "Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be." Dean looks at Roy. "We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all." Dean heads past Sam.

A mine shaft lets in light, Tom and Gary are hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. There are different corpses with them. Growling. Gary spots a tall skinny shape and starts yelling. Tom does his best to turn away and closes his eyes tightly as Gary shouts.

Olivia and Bobby were in the Riviera driving past the house where the nest of werewolves was. Bobby takes several pictures as discreet as he could, while Olivia doesn't stop the car and keeps driving. They stop at a local diner called 'The Old Maple.' They take a booth and order coffees. "How much did you get with the photos?" Bobby looks at them and sighs, "Not much. We had more details on the map. It does confirm the entries, though." Olivia nods, the waitress arrives and gives them their coffees, they smile and nod at her with a quick 'thank you' and return to their conversation. "Okay. Well, nightfall is in hours away so what now? Are we sure there are only three victims?", "There are only three reported victims.", "This is what I thought. So we should look into missings, ask some people, and if people are missing, we'll include this in the plan, and after we killed the nest, we will check into it. I just only hope that there are survivors." Bobby nods. "I do too."

The group hikes through the forest, Roy in the lead, then Dean, Haley, Ben, and Sam bringing up the rear. "Roy, you said you did a little hunting.", "Yeah, more than a little." Dean nods, "Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?", "Mostly buck, sometimes bear." Dean passes Roy. "Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Roy grabs Dean. Sam looks on. "Watcha doing, Roy?" Asks Dean. Roy grabs a stick and pokes the bear trap Dean had almost stepped in. Haley looks annoyed. "You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger." Roy drops the stick and retakes the lead. Dean looks at it then up, "It's a bear trap." They hike on. Haley catches up to Dean. "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers." Haley grabs Dean's arm. "So who the hell are you?" Ben goes past Haley and Dean. Sam looks at Dean, who silently tells him to keep going; Sam obeys. Dean watches him go for a moment. "Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.", "Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?", "I'm telling you now. Besides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman except Olivia. So we okay?" Haley pauses and nods. "Yeah, okay. And who's Olivia?", "Our best friend. She's helping us find our Dad.", "Why?", "She grew up with us. My Dad took her in at a bad time in her life.", "What happened to her?", "Ah, sorry. No can do. I promised to keep this to myself, that if someone were going to tell her story, it would be her." Dean winks at Haley who smiles. "You're a good friend.", "I try to. And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?" Dean pulls out a big bag of peanut M&Ms and sticks his hand in the bag as he hikes on. Haley waits a moment, then follows.

Olivia and Bobby were in FBI suits. Olivia was interrogating a woman and Bobby, another man. "So, Mrs. Brook. I saw that you posted on the local's website that your son went missing." The woman nods, "Did you have any news about? Some things you feel like I should know?", "I—I don't know...", "It's okay. It's alright. Take your time. Uh, did you see someone, a stranger for instance near your house, or your son? Did he tell you anything about it?", "He said he had a new friend older than him. But I thought he was from another grade. Oh my, God." The woman starts to panic, Olivia helps the woman to sit down. "It's okay. Did he tell you anything else? Where he lived, where they would see each other?" She shakes her head. Olivia sighs and sits down, next to the woman. "I'm sorry for pressing you with my questions. The more I know, the more chances I have to find your son.", "I understand. Keep going.", "Okay. Did any of his teaches talked to you about this new friend?", "They said that Dylan was distracted lately. He cut some classes.", "Okay. Did Dylan had a phone?", "Yes.", "Okay, could you give me his number and your operator?" The woman stands up, takes a paper and writes down everything Olivia needed. Olivia stands up and takes the paper. "Thank you." Olivia stops for a moment and sighs, "I know what you're going through. I'm going to do my best to find your son.", "Thank you so much." Olivia nods and leaves the house. Bobby was already in the car, the goes around the car and gets into the driver seat. "So, what did the man told you?", "His daughter went missing a week ago, but she came back yesterday, she was at a friend's place. You?", "This woman's son is missing. She said he made a new friend, someone older than him. She gave me his number and the operator so I will try to track the number and get the phone's history and see if he interacted with someone. I also think we should go to the school. She said that he cut some classes, if it was with this new friend, maybe someone saw him. If the description's close to one of the werewolves, it'll be enough. She gave me a photo of him." Olivia gives the photo to Bobby. "Olivia, you're sure you're up for this one?", "Yes, I am, Bobby.", "But this kid missing—," "Will only make me want to finish this job correctly, so the kid is safe and sound. Like any of the survivors.", "Okay. I say let's head back to the motel and get everything ready and then wait for nightfall." Olivia starts the engine and drives off to their motel.

Roy leads the way, followed by Sam, Ben, Haley, and Dean. "This is it. Blackwater Ridge." States Roy. Sam heads past him. "What coordinates are we at?" Roy pulls out a GPS, which reads N 35° 45. 383, W 111° 00.55. "Thirty-five minus one-eleven." Dean comes up to Sam. They listen. "You hear that?", "Yeah. Not even crickets.", "I'm gonna go take a look around.", "You shouldn't go off by yourself.", "That's sweet. Don't worry about me." Roy waves his gun and pushes between Sam and Dean to retake the lead. Dean turns back to the others as Ben and Haley catch up. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."          Sam, Dean, Ben, and Haley are looking around near a large rock. "Haley! Over here!" Haley runs towards Roy's voice, followed closely by the others. They come to a halt. "Oh my, God." The tens are torn open and bloody, and all the supplies are scattered. "Looks like a grizzly." States Roy. Dean and Haley look around. "Tommy?" Haley takes off her backpack and goes through the campsite. "Tommy!" Sam moves to catch with Haley. "Shh.", "Tommy!", "Shh-hh-hh!", "Why?", "Something might still be out there.", "Sam." Sam goes over to Dean, snapping a stick, and crouches next to him. "The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird" Sam and Dean stand up. "I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog." Dean goes back to the campsite, and Sam follows. Haley picks up Tom's cell phone; it's bloody. She cries. She turns the phone over, and the back is open. Dean crouches next to her. "Hey, he could still be alive." Haley gives Dean a skeptical look. "Help! Help!" Someone screams, Roy leads the way as everyone runs to the aid of the shouter. "Help! Somebody!" They find no one. "It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" They listen. "Everybody back to camp." Orders Sam. Back at the campsite, all the supplies are missing. "Our packs!" Exclaims Haley. "So much for my GPS and my satellite phone." Whines Roy. "What the hell is going on?" Sam looks at Haley, "it's smart. It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help." Roy looks at Sam. "You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear." Sam goes to Dean. "I need to speak with you. In private." Sam and Dean head a little ways away from the group. "Good. Let me see Dad's journal." Dean hands it over. Sam opens it and flips through until he finds a particular page. "All right, check this out." Sam points to a First Nations—style drawing of a figure. "Oh come on, wendigos are in Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west.", "Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice.", "Great." Dean takes out his pistol. "Well, then this is useless." Sam gives Dean back John's journal and heads past Dean, stopping for a moment. "We gotta get these people to safety."

"Dylan was an amazing student, he didn't always have A's, but he had a great grade, he participated, and he wanted to learn." Olivia was talking to Dylan's teacher. "What happened?", "His grade started to drop about a month ago, he started to cut off.", "How much?", "Half of his grade went down. If he continues at this rate, he won't pass. He missed around twenty classes. He made up fake notes from his mother or father. He even found someone to pretend to be his father to explain his absence.", "Wait, who was pretending to be his father?", "I don't know his name. He went under the identity of Dylan's father.", "Could you describe him?", "Yes. Uhm. Tall, medium brown hair, a beard, brown eyes, he—he has a tattoo of the moon on his right arm. He's muscular. That's all I can remember.", "It's enough. Thanks.", "You're going to find him, right?", "I will do my best to bring him home."          "So turns out the friend Dylan made was the werewolf that we killed.", "So he's in their lair." Olivia nods. "We have maybe two or three hours until nightfall. I say we go over there and wait for a little, in case something new happens."

Back at the campsite, Sam addresses the group. "All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten…more complicated.", "What?" Haley looked at Sam, confused. "Kid, don't worry. Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it." Dean rolls his eyes at Roy. Sam sighs, "it's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.", "One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders." Dean looks at Roy, "relax.", "We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you." Roy steps right into Sam's space. "You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.", "Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's going to hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here." Roy laughs. "You know you're crazy, right?", "Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—" Dean pushes Sam. Haley screams Roy's name. "Chill out." Dean tries to calm Sam. "Stop. Stop it." Everyone turns to look at Haley. "Everybody just stops. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him." For a moment, no one talks, until Dean breaks the silence. "It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves." Haley looks at Dean and nods, "How?"

Olivia and Bobby were taking their gun, making sure they had enough bullets. "Okay. So entry C, then the main room we kill all of them, then we go to the room A, kill the Alpha, and if everything goes as planned, we go to the room B and save as many victims as we can." Bobby nods. "And remember, we can't save everyone.", "I know. Let's go." They walk to the house when they arrive at the entry C, Olivia puts herself at the left side of the door, Bobby at the right side. They look at each other, Olivia shows three fingers and starts to silently count. When the last digit is down she takes her gun correctly in her hands, Bobby opens the door as quietly as possible. They enter the room, Olivia covering the left side once again as Bobby still covers the right side. Bobby does a movement of the hand to tell Olivia to keep walking ahead, she nods. They look around, gun aimed and loaded. As they are closer to the main room, they hear people talking. Olivia gets closer to Bobby and whispers "They're at least seven in here. We need to shoot correctly. We don't have many bullets on us.", "Okay. We go in there at the same time and start shooting right away, giving them no time to adjust and attack us." Olivia nods. They take a breath and enter the main room, they start shooting at the werewolves.

The group has built a campfire, and Dean draws something in the dirt around the campsite while Haley pokes at the fire. "One more time, that's—," "Anasazi symbols. It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them." Roy laughs, gun over his shoulder. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy." Dean heads over to sit next to Sam, who is at the edge of the campsite. "You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?", "Dean—," "No. You're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?", "Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sigh, right?", "Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.", "Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go pick up Olivia, and find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?", "This is why." Dean comes around to Sam's front and holds up John's journal. "This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business." Sam shakes his head. "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?", "I don't know. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.", "Dean…no. I have to find Dad. I have to find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.", "Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them. I promise. Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man." Sam looks down, then up. "How do you do it? How does Olivia or Dad do it?" Dean looks over at Haley and Ben. "Well, for one, them." Sam looks over at Haley and Ben. "I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable." Dean looks at his little brother. "I'll tell you what else helps." Sam looks back at Dean. "Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can." Sam smiles. A twig snaps. "Help me! Please!" Dean stands and readies his gun. "Help!" Sam shines a flashlight. "He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put." Roy rolls his eyes, "inside the magic circle?", "Help! Help me!" Growling is heard. Roy points his gun at the sound. "Okay, that's no grizzly." Haley talks to Ben, "it's okay. You'll be all right, I promise." Something rushes past. Haley shrieks. Sam looks around, "it's here." Roy shoots at the rustling, then again. "I hit it!" Roy goes to see what he hit. "Roy, no! Roy!" Dean turns to Haley and Ben, "don't move." Haley is holding a stick, burning at one end as a weapon. Sam and Dean run after Roy. "It's over here! It's in the tree!" The wendigo reaches down from the tree and snaps Roy's neck. "Roy!" Sam shines the flashlight around.

The werewolves that were protecting the Alpha came running into the main room where all of the other monsters were dead. Olivia hears the Alpha leaving the house. She looks at Bobby, "I'm going after him, you got this?", "Yes. Go." Olivia runs outside by the entry C and corners the house. She aims her gun, taking long deep breaths, calming her heart, when she calmed it she walked as slowly as possible, avoiding anything that could betray her position. Olivia knew the Alpha would still be here. At least she was hoping so. Olivia looks around as she arrives at the entry B, the killing room. She sees the door half open. She looks inside and sees the Alpha passing back and forth. She also heard whimpering. Someone was still alive. She waits for the Alpha to turn his back to the door, she slowly opens it and aims her gun, when a woman sees her she gasps, turning the Alpha's attention to Olivia. She werewolf attacks Olivia, she falls to the ground, the beast on the top of her, she struggles to get her gun back. The werewolf's teeth were dangerously close to her. She turns her head and tries to grab her gun. When she realizes she can't, she knees the werewolf in the stomach, she then headbutts him, she slightly moves to the left, enough to grab her gun. When he comes to his senses, Olivia has just enough time to shoot the Alpha in the head. The body falls to the ground. Olivia takes a deep breath and stands up. She looks around and sees Dylan and two other women. She sighs in relief.

Sam is sitting on a hollow tree stump, holding John's journal and playing with a lanyard attached to same. Dean, Haley, and Ben are among the tents. "I don't…I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real." Dean sighs at Haley's words. "I wish I could tell you different.", "How do we know it's not out there watching us?", "We don't. But we're safe for now.", "How do you know about this stuff?" There is a slight pause while Dean considers. "Kind of runs in the family." Sam comes over. "Hey." Haley stands up. "so, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.", "Well, hell, you know I'm in." States Dean.  Sam shows the wendigo page of John's journal to Haley and Ben. "'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours.'", "They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or a hunter.", "How's a man turn into one of those things?" Dean picks up a couple things up off the ground. "Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe r camp.", "Like the Donner Party." Dean looks at Ben.  Then Sam continues, "cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality.", "If you eat enough of it, over the years, you become this less than a human thing. You're always hungry.", "So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Demands Haley. "You're not going to like it." Dean glances at Sam, then back at Haley. "Tell me.", "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.", "And then how do we stop it?", "Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically—" Dean holds up the can of lighter fluid, the beer bottle, and the white cloth he'd picked up. "We gotta torch the sucker."

After Olivia checked if the victims were okay, she put something on the man's body that didn't survive. She looks at Dylan and then at the door. She had to join Bobby. She gives one of the women a gun, "do you know how to shoot?" The woman nods. "Okay. If it's not a man in a ball cap or me, you shoot." The woman nods again. Olivia charges her gun and gets out of the killing room. She walks to the entry C and reaches the main room, she sees one werewolf walking to Bobby. She aims her gun and shoot, killing him. The body falls, Bobby looks at Olivia and sighs. "All dead. I found Dylan alive, and on the three people missing, only two women survived, the man was dead.", "Okay let's get out of here."

Dean leads the way through the woods. Molotov cocktail in hand. Haley follows, then Ben, and Sam. They pass trees with claw marks and blood.

Dylan was in the back seat of Olivia's car. Olivia parks the car in front of Dylan's house. She gets out, opens the door for Dylan to get out. She walks with him to the front door, she knocks and waits for the door to open. When Dylan's mother opens the door, she puts her hands on her mouth when she saw her son. She takes him in her arms. "Thank you so much.", "Don't mention it. Hey, Dylan." Dylan turns and faces Olivia, "next time you see a stranger, don't go near. Okay?", "I promise.", "Okay." Dylan gives Olivia a hug, taking her by surprise. "Thank you, Olivia.", "No problem kiddo. Now go." Olivia turns around and starts to walk to her car when the woman stops her, "Wait a minute." Olivia turns, "I figured out you weren't from the FBI. But I don't care, you brought my boy home. And I will forever be thankful for this. I don't know what happened to you, but I can tell you are a mother. So from mother to mother, thank you, from the bottom of my heart." Olivia hugs the woman and leaves.

Sam is now leading the group. "Dean." Dean catches up. "what is it?" Sam and Dean look around at the trees. There are bloody claw marks and broken branches everywhere. "You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow." Growling. Sam and Dean whip around. Trees rustle. Haley is standing under a tree. Blood drips on her shirt. She notices and looks up, then leaps out of the way; Roy's corpse lands where she stood. Dean examines Roy as Sam goes over to Haley. "You okay? You got it?", "His neck's broke." Sam helps Haley up. More growling. "Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" Everybody takes off. Ben falls, and Sam hurries back to help him up, dividing the group in half. "Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha." Dean and Haley stopped short: the wendigo is in front of them. Haley screams. Ben looks up, "Haley?" Sam stops running and picks up Dean's Molotov cocktail, the bottle is broken. "Dean!"

Back at the motel, Olivia went to take a shower then Bobby. "Well, I say it's a good day.", "It sure could have been worse, but I'm feeling bad for the man's wife. She's pregnant.", "I know. But as I said we can't save everyone. We saved three out of four, Olivia. It's a good day." Olivia nods. I'm going to sleep."

"If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?", "Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off." Ben finds a trail of peanut M&Ms and picks one up. "They went this way." Sam catches up to Ben, who hands over the M&M. Sam laughs. "It's better than breadcrumbs." Sam tosses the M&M away. They follow the trail. They come to a mine entrance marked with a sign that says 'Warning! Danger! Do not enter extremely toxic material.' Sam looks at Ben, shrugs, and goes inside. Ben follows. Above the entrance is a larger sign that says 'keep out no admittance.'          Sam shines the flashlight ahead of them. Growling; Sam shuts off the light and pulls Ben against the wall. The Wendigo comes towards them. Sam covers Ben's mouth before he can scream. The wendigo takes a different tunnel at the crossing. Sam and Ben keep going. The floorboards creak, and Ben and Sam fall through the floor; they land in a pile of bones. There is another pile nearby of skulls Ben spots them and leaps backward. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." Sam and Ben look up; Dean and Haley are hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Sam runs to Dean, Ben to Haley. "Dean!", "Haley, wake up!" Sam grabs Dean and shakes him. "Dean!" Dean opens his eyes. "Hey, you okay?" Dean winces. "Yeah.", "Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!" Sam cuts Dean down, and Ben takes care of Haley. They help them over to an empty patch of floor and get them down. Dean makes pained noises. "You sure you're all right?" Dean grimaces. "Yeah. Yep. Where is he?", "He's gone for now." Haley divests herself of rope. She stands up and spots Tom still hanging and starts crying. "Tommy…" Haley touches Tom's cheek. Tom's head jerks up. Haley jumps back and shrieks. she turns to Sam. "Cut him down!" Sam cuts Tom down. "We're gonna get you home." The stolen supplies are piled in the corner. Dean picks up flare guns. "Check it out." Sam turns around. "Flare guns. Those'll work." Sam grins, Dean laughs and twirls the guns.          The head down a tunnel, Sam and Dean in the lead with flare guns and Haley and Ben supporting Tom, who is limping. Growling. "Looks like someone's home for supper.", "We'll never outrun it." Dean looks back at the others then at Sam. "You thinking what I'm thinking?", "Yeah, I think so.", "All right listen to me. Stay with Sam. He's gonna get you out of here.", "What are you gonna do?" Dean doesn't answer Haley, he winks and starts walking and yelling. "Chow time, you freaky bastardç Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good." Sam waits until Dean is a safe distance away. "All right, come on! Hurry!" The Collinses follow Sam down the tunnel.          "Hey, you want some white mean, bitch! I'm right here!"         Sam, Haley, Ben, and Tom hurry down a tunnel. Growling. Sam points the gun at it, then lowers the gun and turns to the Collinses. "Get him out of here.", "Sam no.", "Go! Go! Go!", "Come on, Haley!" Haley and Ben help Tom along the mine tunnel. Sam holds the flare gun ready to shoot, looking down the tunnel. "Come on, come on." Growling. Sam turns: the wendigo is right in his face. Sam shoots and misses, then runs after the Collinses. "Sam!" Sam catches up. "Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry." They run to the end of the tunnel, the wendigo right behind. "Get behind me!" Sam is large enough to hide all three Collinses. The wendigo approaches, taking its time. Dean comes up behind it. "Hey!" The wendigo turns, Dean shoots it in the stomach. The flare goes off, and the wendigo goes up in flames. "Not bad, huh?" Sam grins.

Olivia puts her duffel bag in the passenger seat. She closes the door and looks at Bobby. "Well, it was a pleasure to work with you, Bobby." Bobby laughs, making Olivia smile. "You take care of you back there, all right? And take care of the boys. Be the sane one.", "As usual, Bobby." Olivia hugs him, "bye." she gets into the car and leaves.

An ambulance loads up Tom. Two police officers interview Ben; Sam stands behind him. "And the bear came back again after you yelled at it?", "That's when it circled the campsite. I mean, this grizzly must have weighed eight hundred, nine hundred pounds." Sam nods at Ben's words. "All right, we'll go after it first thing." The officer nods and leaves. Haley talks to Dean, both of them have already been patched up. "So I don't know how to thank you," Dean smirks lasciviously. Haley smiles despite herself. "Must you cheapen the moment?", "Yeah!" A paramedic comes up to Haley, "You're riding with your brother?", "Yeah." The Paramedic heads back to the ambulance. Haley turns to Ben. "Let's go." Sam and Ben nod at each other. Haley kisses Dean on the cheek. "I hope you find your father." Haley and Ben head for the ambulance. "Thanks, Sam." They climb in the ambulance with Tom. Sam sits on the Impala's hood with Dean. "Man, I hate camping.", "Me too." Noises of the ambulance driving away, sirens on. "Sam, you know we're going to find Dad, right?", "Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving." Dean tosses Sam the keys. Dean's phone rings, Olivia sent him a message 'Just arrived at the motel. You're okay?', 'On our way. We're good. You?', 'I'm fine. See you.' Sam looks at Dean and starts the car, "who is it?", "Olivia. She's at the motel. Let's go."

[valisi-clark]

Hi! 😁 13, 34 and 38 for the ask meme please?

Hey, honey pie! Thank you for stopping by! 

13. What talents do you have?

When I was younger, I played the piano. I was pretty good at that. 

Ummm.... what else is considered a talent? Can I start listing sexual stuff?

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Yes, I have! In fact, most of my favorite memories about my dad have to do with guns. 

Once, when I was probably about 18 or 19, one of my dad’s friends asked if he wanted to go shooting on this property that the man owned.  My dad asked if I wanted to go too. I had a lot of fun that day! The friend didn’t have any proper targets set up. We just shot at clay discs, what they call skeet shooting. We shot at other stuff too, tin cans and such.They each brought part of their gun collection, and I got to shoot every gun that I wanted to try. The only gun that I couldn’t shoot was this giant shotgun, the old school kind where everything is still steel and hardwood. I couldn’t even keep it up next to my shoulder long enough to properly aim. My dad made it look like nothing. He’s got these massive, mechanic forearms. 

After he shot it, he asked if I wanted to try again. And I said: “No, thanks. I like handguns better.” 

My dad just beamed and said: “That’s my girl!” 

That was probably one of the proudest moments of my life. No joke. I’ll never forget the way he laughed.

Another of my favorite moments with my dad was, I was down there visiting with my family, and my dad was in his recliner watching TV. I was on the couch. My dad has that type of recliner where there are pockets in arms of the chair. And suddenly, in the middle of the show he was watching, he looked at me and said: “Did I show you my new gun?” 

“No, sir.”

He reached in the pocket of his recliner, pulled out this little pistol, pointed it at the wall and said: “It’s got a laser sight on it!” Sure enough, there was a little red dot on the wall next to the TV. 

I didn’t realize how hilarious that story was until I came home and told my partner about it. He burst out into laughter, and I thought about it, and I started laughing too. My partner and I grew up in the same state, but his family isn’t as hype about guns as mine. I was raised in that culture, but I forget sometimes that not everyone is so used that type of behavior.

A couple of years ago, my dad got an AR-15 for Father’s Day. And when I saw it, I was honestly scared of it. I had been reading a lot of gun control articles, talking with friends about guns, how they felt about them. Basically, I want to educate myself. I love guns, but I understand why some people are against them. I want to see all sides of the situation. And I had been away from my own culture long enough to forget how excited my dad gets about guns and why. Also, the gun looks aggressive. It looks like an assault weapon. But it’s not really. It’s nothing compared to what the military uses. You can still kill someone with it, but that’s not what it’s actually made for. So I was a little afraid to shoot it, but I have trouble saying no when my dad offers to bond. When went out to shoot it a little bit.

When he shot it, of course he made it look like nothing. There wasn’t any recoil, but I always know not to look to my dad for a basis of how much a gun is going to kick. Under all of that cornbread and gravy, he’s pure muscle. And I was afraid of the recoil because you have to put your cheek down against the butt of the gun when you aim it to look through the sight. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hold it tight enough so I wouldn’t lose my grip and get a nice bruise on my face. So, it took me a minute, but I finally steadied myself, put my cheek down on the butt of the gun, got comfortable and pulled the trigger. And fuck if that’s not the smoothest gun I’ve ever shot in my life. My mom has a pistol that has the option to shoot shotgun shells or .45 Colt ammunition, and when I shoot that thing, I lose my balance after its fired. But with the AR-15, my upper body didn’t move an inch. It’s an excellent machine. And it’s a lot of fun to shoot once you get comfortable with it.

I don’t own a gun myself because there’s really no reason for me to have one. If you have a gun, but you never practice with it, you’re basically a Storm Trooper. My dad has offered to buy one for me, and I’ve picked out the one that I want. But I don’t want to buy one based on the fantasy of “self-defense during a home invasion”. That’s not going to happen in my neighborhood. Even if it did, I have a weapon called a sjambok which is basically the perfect love child of a whip and cane. You don’t even have to swing hard; it has its own momentum, and you could break someone’s face open with it. It was originally created in Africa, made from hippo hide, to cut snakes in half with a single whip. Mine is made of some kind of rubber. I don’t have to have any skill to use it, and it’s not going to kill anyone (maybe). I’ve decided that it’s best not to own a gun until I have a place to play with it.

If I owned a gun, I’d own it for fun. Going out and shooting at targets with friends, maybe cooking something on the grill, make a target competition out of it. I don’t believe in mixing alcohol and guns, so we would have to put the guns way before any of the beer came out. That type of thing. I know a lot of people are thinking right now: “But a gun isn’t a toy. It’s a weapon.” You’re right. It’s a weapon. Guns deserve and command respect. And I definitely have a respectful fear of their power. When you learn enough gun safety, they don’t feel so dangerous anymore. You just have to stay aware of what you’re doing with it at all times.

If you aren’t familiar with the culture that I’m talking about, you can imagine it like Sasha’s village in SNK. We hunted for food, I could skin a deer, I have a thick accent, I’ve eaten things that people would probably turn green just thinking about. I love my culture even though I left my hometown. Guns are part of how I was raised.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

No, I’ve had the opportunity to try it, and I turned it down. I’d like to try it sometime I think, but I’m not sure I could pick it up for a fun hobby. 

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share so many dad stories, honey pie! Thank you for the ask! 

[autumn-elwood]

A Study in Invigorating Description

This is a prompt list. Please vote in the ask box. Please. I've worked on this for several days. Please. Just write a number between 1 and 20. Please.

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Enjoy! (I'm exhausted. Send coffee.)

1.  When I was younger I always thought I was pretty hot shit. I could write stories and draw pictures that could move even my toughest classmates to tears. As an adult, I came to the stunning realization that I was not, in fact, the hot shit I thought I was. My first manuscript did not even make it past the publishers and my other attempts fared no better. It was not, however, because I lacked talent. One man told me my writing was great but I lacked references. Why should I risk publishing your work if I don’t know if it will tank or not, he told me. It’s not worth the risk.

Since then I have set my book career aside to earn myself some small time fame. I am now a journalist for a local paper.

“Clyde? What are you thinking about? The ask-column is due by 17:00! Hurry your ass up!”

“Almost done, Grace. I just need to complete some small corrections,” I hollered back. Grace did not reply.

One day I’m going to make it big with a novel that’s going to knock everyone’s socks off. Those damn publishers are going to regret the day they turned down the brilliant writing of Clyde Palmer.

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face Palmer and get to editing!”

“Yes, Grace.”

I hate that woman. 2. Patrick Delaney will freely admit he is slightly terrified of his daughter. She is a skinny little thing of thirteen with no weight training to speak of, that can lift things that would give him trouble. Don’t get him wrong. He still loves his little princess but seeing her lift two twenty-four packs of water bottles at the same time would make any single father break a sweat. He was finally getting used to her unnatural strength when she dent a semi’s hood that had been careening toward a small boy and herself.

When that happened, Patrick did what every reasonable person would do in that situation; he fainted.

3. Humans, in my experience, are odd and violent creatures. Many of them strive for individualism while attacking anyone and anything they perceive as different from themselves. Quite the paradox.

My name is Venxiaqle and I am not from this planet. I am an explorer from a small planet on the far ends of the Milky Way galaxy. After landing on Earth, or Terra Prime as it is called on my homeworld, I was quite thankful to have been born with my shape-shifting ability, that I inherited from my father. Without it, I fear my new earthling companion, William, would have attacked me worse. He was quite terrified when I crashed my ship on a strip of his grandparents’ grape orchard.

Despite our rocky start, I am grateful to have found a native to help me detail the wildlife of ‘Earth’ and assist me in blending in with the planet's dominating species, the human. I just wish he would call me by my actual name, instead of the diminutive, Vinney.

4. I breathed heavily as I scaled the desolated parking complex, dragging my companion up. Mandy was frightened and apologetic, muttering unintelligently about how it was all her fault. I wanted to smack her but I was afraid her already weakened jaw wouldn’t be able to take the force. Most of the flesh in that area had already decomposed and the only thing keeping it attached was some discolored skin and her muscles.

The zombies after us were my fault. The hunters were Mandy’s. Both of us were simultaneously at fault and victims of our circumstances. Mandy had been turned and had kept her mind while I was in love with her.

“Amy, please just leave me behind,” she pleaded. “You need to escape.”

“Not without you, honey,” I told her. “Never without you. We said death ‘till us part and you’re still kicking even if you aren’t breathing, sweetie.”

“You’re an idiot, Amy,” she muttered as she held me tighter, rubbing her oily head into the crook of my neck as I hoisted us above the ledge of one of the parking levels.

“That’s why you love me,” I laughed as I tossed a homemade explosive at our pursuers, zombie and human alike. At one time I would have felt bad for all of the people I just massacred but now I felt only relief. Fire slowed down the zombies and charred humans couldn’t shoot us or be forced to join the ranks of our undead pals.

I heard the cock of a shotgun.

“Fuck.”

5. My neighbor, Rena, scares me. I often see her storming down the corridors of our apartment complex with murder written on her face. The few times I have heard her speak, she was yelling and cursing like the world had personally insulted her. I do not know if I am more scared of her or for her. Sometimes I just want to ask her what’s wrong. How’s your blood pressure? Can I do anything to help you?

“What the fuck do you want, bitch?”

“Nothing Rena!” I whimpered as she passed me that afternoon of September 12th.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously in my direction. Oh my god. What did I do? Is she going to kill me? Why? Oh, I’m so dead. God, help me.

“How the fuck do you know my name, round face?”

Round face? I hugged my chubby body subconsciously. Why couldn’t she have continued to call me bitch like she does like every other chick on this row? What did I say to warrant a nickname?

“I heard the landlord yelling at you when you moved in,” I whispered.

Rena looked pissed.

“Stupid son of a bitch. Can’t keep his mouth shut,” she muttered mutinously. “Anyways, what’s your name, round face?”

“Um, Lucy…”

Rena gave me a stiff nod before she stomped off to her flat. I clutched my heart and sank to the floor. Well, that was over, thank the lord.

6. Sometimes the things we love the most hurt us the most. That was very true for me. I stared in horror as a large shadow towered over me like a running spider. Like hail from the sky, the books rained down on me, leaving no inch unbruised. I whimpered and pushed the heavy novels off me only to be assaulted by four more books.

“Oh shit,” an unfamiliar male voice shouted. “Are you alright?”

“Is that you, God?” I muttered unironically.

“Not the god you’re talking about.”

I threw the tomes off me.

“What?!”

“Kidding,” a man with caramel skin snickered. HIs eyes were black like the void. He seemed like the kind of guy that if he were a fictional character people way younger than him would be screaming, “My son, I will protect you!”

“Hug me.”

“What?”

I should not have said that.

7. When I became a villain I did not sign up to be a parent. Usually, when you think villain, you think terrorizing the public and world domination, which is what I signed up for, not trying to get some twelve-year-old some help.

My nemesis, Star Child, had been kicking my proverbial ass for months when I realized he was in fact twelve.You would think I would be offended that my arch enemy was a pre-teen but I was in reality, horrified. I had held a twelve-year-old boy above an acid tank. I had thrown him into several buildings. I had broken his arm. He wasn’t even in high school and he was fighting supervillains. Oh my god.

Next time we fought, I handcuffed him to a chair and gave him some fruit slices.

“Why are you not in school?” I began. “Your grades are important, Star Child. Even if you choose to pursue hero work after you complete your education, you still need to be able to get a job. Also, you are twelve. You should not be going up against supervillains at your age. Small crime maybe but supervillains… No.”

The boy blinked rapidly. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Finally, he settled on a very intelligent, “What?”

I scowled at him and put my hands on my hips.

“KId, do not throw away your life for a payless job. Being a hero is noble and very rewarding but it doesn’t pay the bills. Besides, what would your parents say f they knew you were fighting crime instead of doing your homework.

Dead? Fuck. Who’s watching this kid if he gets away with this? I need to adopt this kid stat. Wait, no. I can’t. I’m a villain He’s my nemesis. I really shouldn’t.

Fuck it. I’m going to adopt this kid.

8. Two days ago, Daddy finished building me so I look like a normal little boy. Yesterday, Daddy was arrested for villain activity. Today, Mommy’s still scared of me. She doesn’t know what to do with me. My energy levels are low and my water tank is near empty as a result of me sobbing as I watched Daddy be arrested on television. Daddy hooked me up to the internet and the internet says villains are evil. I hate Daddy. He made Mommy sad and scared.

I don’t think he told Mommy I have to eat. Another reason I hate Daddy now is because he left Mommy with the burden of taking care of me all by herself.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” I whispered as we watch Daddy’s arrest for the 767th time. She hadn’t eaten since it happened. I hope taking care of me will remind her even though I scare her. I wish I knew why Mommy was scared of me. Maybe then, I could fix it.

“What?” she stuttered out in alarm. She flinched seeing how close I was.

“I’m hungry, Mommy. We haven’t eaten since yesterday and we haven’t slept. I’m tired.”

She hugged herself and looked away from me. Her long glossy black locks were a mess and her dark circles were unhealthy pronounced. She looked pale and broken like a porcelain doll that had slipped off its display shelf. I wanted to hug her but I knew any physical action of comfort I could offer would only make things worse. My body was so cold.

“Don’t call me that,” she sobbed, voice cracking.

“Mommy–”

“Chester, I’m not your mom. Evan― your dad―started making you when we found out I was infertile,” she wiped a few stray tears away, straightening herself like a soldier preparing for battle. “Frankly, I never approved and based off what happened yesterday, he… he started working with villains to get the parts to make you

“I found a letter in his journal. They only agreed to fund him if they could use you later. I… I don’t know what to do. I just know I can’t handle being your mother. I just can’t, knowing what they’re going to use you for. I can’t let myself get attached to you.”

I felt tears build in my eyes. “ I don’t want to be a villain. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be a hero. I want to stop people like Daddy from hurting other people!”

She looked at me like a shattering wine glass and lunged forward, pulling me into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Chester. I’m sorry,” she wailed.

The meaning of her apology evaded me but those words and her arms made me feel something I had yet to feel in my two days of existence; safe. My resolve to become a hero cemented itself into my programming. I would become the strongest, kindest hero and no one, not Daddy and not anyone else would ever hurt Mommy, or anyone else, like this again. I would not allow it.

9. It’s 1:00 am and I should be asleep but I’m not. What my father said early this evening echoes in my head.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said as he pulled me into his unfamiliar arms.

I do not understand why he apologized. This is hardly the first time he has said I have ruined his life. This is just the first time he has said it so blatantly. He has never said sorry before so I am confused on why he is now. Maybe Mom told him he had to. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I’m tired of pondering this but it won’t leave me alone. Hearing him say that should have made me sad or mad or something but I hardly blinked. I just went to my room and did my homework.

“What are you doing up?” I heard my brother ask from my door.

“I could ask you the same question, Peter.”

He walked over to my bed and sat down near my feet.

“He should know better than to say things like that to us, to you, Eliza. He’s an adult.”

“He’s a child who never grew up. He was just throwing a tantrum because my opinion didn’t fall in line with his.

He clenched his fists in his lap and growled.

“That doesn’t make it any better, that doesn’t excuse him.”

I breathed out a laugh.

“I know but there’s nothing we can do. We just have to deal with it.”

Peter threw his hands in the air, his face turning red with anger.

“We shouldn’t have to deal with it,” he whisper-shouted.

“I know,” I sighed, my heavy eyes sliding shut as slipped into oblivion.

10. I’m sitting on the cool itchy grass of summer, staring at the inky night sky. Around me, couples and families sit on picnic blankets, on the edge of their seats staring up at the glittering heavens in anticipation. I am alone.

Boom! The first firework explodes in a cascade of reds, blues, and golds.

Many times when people think of fireworks, they think of smiling children running around with sparklers, a kiss between lovers under the vivacious colors, hope. I do not think of these things. I think of how a firework can parallel loneliness. The unexploded firework being launched into the sky is like me when I say everything’s wonderful and amazing, and I don’t need anyone to be happy.

The explosion is when it all comes crashing down. So many tumultuous feelings breaking free of their bottle. The furious roar of red unrighteous anger covering up the fear. The endless chasms of blue sorrow and hopelessness. The festering and blistering like greens of envy. I hate fireworks but here I am watching them again, my emotions on full display to my empty eyes.

It is truly pathetic.

11. Veronica had always been a risk taker so when her friend Barry dared her to spend the night in the abandoned house on 6th street, she hadn’t said no. She told Barry that his dare was a bit cliche but she hadn’t said no.

The abandoned building on 6th was practically a public danger. It had been sealed off in the sixties but was much older than that. The right corner of the place’s roof was caved in and the structural integrity of the place was poor. The place was infested with rats and bugs of all sorts. There was illegible graffiti throughout the rotten walls and few had dared step foot in it since the murder five years ago. Regrettably, the murder had revived the urban legend that the place was haunted.

Veronica thought those rumours were bullshit but Barry believed in them wholeheartedly. Probably the reason he chose this dare, she thought with an internal scoff.

She carefully laid her stuff in the middle of the floor of what she thought may have once been a dining room. She slowly lowered herself onto the floor, wincing at every creak of the ratty wooden floor. So far she hadn’t found any evidence of ghosts but she hadn’t really ventured past the first floor. To be honest, she was more scared of finding a living person in the house than an incorporable being of post-human consciousness. She crossed her fingers and went to bed.

Her blood was pumping with excitement which made nodding off very difficult. Urban exploration was illegal after all. She felt herself drifting off when a young voice cut through her drowsiness.

“What are you doing here?”

Her eyes snapped open. Veronica barely held back a scream. Above her was a floating young girl, her long hair seemingly unaffected by gravity with her eyeballs gouged out leaving bloody black holes in their place.

Veronica struggled backward, incoherent noises exiting her mouth in panic. The specter followed after her and stopped as Veronica made impact with a wall.

“Hi! I’m Erie,” she beamed, obliviously unaware of Veronica’s terror. She wondered if the ghost could see. “What’s your name?”

“Veronica,” she managed to squeak out before fainting.

12. Kain couldn’t help but feel bored for some odd reason. He honestly shouldn’t be feeling bored with the number of adventures Cyrus and himself had been on together since they took up the pseudonyms, Castor and Pollux, and joining the cavern of Hermes.

They had made tons of new friends in Eris, Apollo, Thanatos, and Persephone. They had raided a slave auction and dug up objects and tomes from the buried pre-rest buildings in the dunes of the Estival Desert. They had even met up with Lady Alma to make sure she was getting on alright, for crying out loud. Kain was safe from Lord Zafar. Cyrus was safe from Lord Zafar. They got to transcribe books and sell them in Apple-polish market.

Why was he so bored?!

“Um… Are there any titles you would recommend?” a familiar voice queried.

He looked up to see a man with short blond hair and a scruffy beard. He looked familiar too. Had he met this man before?

“Oliver Twist’s pretty―,” he began before cutting himself off, the man’s identity becoming shockingly clear.

“You bastard,” Kain growled, eyes filled with rage.

The bastard blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond to Kain’s sudden insult.

“Pollux,” he heard Cyrus say with a sharp a sharp warning before making apologies to the customer.

Kain clenched his fists, his anger rising even higher after realizing Cyrus didn’t recognize the bastard in front of them. And even worse, the no good lying son of a bitch didn’t recognize them either. Kain threw a hand in front of his brother in a clear sign for the younger boy to be quiet. Cyrus’ voice faded off and he stared at his brother nervously, wondering what Kain was going to say.

“How dare you show your face here in front of me after what you did!” Kain sneered.

The man looked flustered as he glanced around the market at the stares they were attracting. “Sir, I believe you have the wrong―”

Kain slammed his hands on the front of the stall, cutting the man off.

“How dare you show your face after you abandoned your wife and children to the mercy of Lord Zafar!” he screamed, a mixture of hysteria and anger coloring his words

Cyrus gasped as the meaning of those words sunk in.

“Kain,” the man proclaimed in shock.

Kain slugged him straight in the nose.

13. I was fairly young when I first asked my mom why she chose the Merriam for my name. She gave me a smile before pulling a tattered paperback dictionary from the living room shelf.

“I’ve always admired the Señores Merriam, mi hijo. Not for any of their actions or beliefs. To be honest, I've never much looked into their history but I admire them for creating a book full of meanings. One of the first books your abuela bought for me when I began my schooling here, was this dictionary,” she remarked wistfully. “We didn't have much money then so when she gave it to me, I was so excited.”

Mom gave a little laugh.

“It was my first book in the start of a grand collection but never mind all that, Merriam. You were asking about your name. I gave you the name Merriam because I wanted you to have an understanding of both your heart and mind.”

It was such a sweet story that at the time I was so proud of my name. I later grew to hold my name in my heart with an odd amount of awe and resentment. Being called “Dictionary Boy” does not always inspire positive feelings.

“Yo, Mary, whatcha thinkin’?”

I looked over to my friend, Bryce, in disdain. Besides the association with dictionaries, Merriam has more often been a girls’ name than a boys’, men only finding Merriam in their names as a surname.

“I told you never to call me that,” I hissed.

Bryce cackled obnoxiously. “Oops. I forgot, man.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” he affirmed with a smirk.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he put the unlit stick in his mouth and proceeded to take out a rubix cube without lighting the thing.

“If you’re going to put them in your mouth at least light them. Who are you? Augustus Waters?”

“Don’t make references to books you've never read, Mary,” Bryce muttered distractedly. “I’m trying to quit.”

“You’re trying to quit now, months after I’ve stopped lecturing you about the health risks posed by cigarettes,” I questioned skeptically.

“Yep. Better late than never.”

This came across as bizarre to me. Bryce was stubborn so I didn’t get why he had chosen to change his habits now. After a minute of me staring at him and him trying and failing to solve the rubix cube, he said something that made me almost topple down the stairs.

“Adrie’s pregnant.”

“Fuck.”

He looked up at me and shrugged.

“It’s not that bad. We’re in college so they can transfer to online courses before it gets to the point where they shouldn’t be straining themselves anymore.”

“You’re right, I suppose,” I agreed, still reeling.

Adrie was a pretty responsible person so it was kind of a shock that Bryce had managed to get them pregnant but then again, condoms did break.

“Would you like to be the godfather?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. Adrie likes you.”

Adrie likes everyone.”

Bryce put the rubix cube down and extracted the cancer stick from his mouth.

“Surprisingly, no. Adrie smiles and talks to everyone but the two of us are their only friends. Well, I’m their boyfriend but you get the point.”

“Very touching but I think you could find a much better choice for a godfather.”

Bryce snorted. “We’ll see.”

Yeah, no.

14. The room was warm and smelt of singed turkey. I blinked blearily at my surroundings. Where was I? My apartment? No, much too clean. A friend’s? No, none of my friends could afford a turkey. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I also noted that much of the furniture was too expensive for my apartment or anyone else I know.

How did I get here? I looked around for a door before landing my eyes on the thing in question.

It was painted white with a gold peephole. The deadbolt was broken and the knobs were unlocked. I felt a deep seeded feeling of dread in my gut.

Did I break in here, I asked myself.

Most people don’t have to ask themselves these kinds of questions but I take some anxiety medication that causes some disinhibition and memory loss, and I am prone to making stupid decisions regardless of my state of awareness. What day was it?

The aroma of the turkey caused the date to click with me.

A scream of shocked terror had me holding my ears in pain.

“Who are you?” a feminine voice cried. “Why are you in my house?”

Then, like a dumbass, my chosen reply was a slurred:

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

15. The lazy sunlight crept into my apartment window, sharply hitting my eyes. I shift against my soft couch cushions, a warm weight melting into my side.

“Lee, you awake?”

He mumbled unintelligently but didn’t stir. I held him tighter in my arms. I never wanted this moment to end but like all beautiful moments that block out the horribleness of reality, it has to end.

My name is Jay, codename, Vitality and I am a hero. My boyfriend, Lee, is a villain named Lord Decay. We live in a society of people with metahuman abilities where few elect to utilize those abilities. The few that do mainly use their powers to help maintain our society or tear it down.

Lee wants to tear it down and rebuild it from scratch. He wants to change the world and he grew to believe the only way to inspire that change was to make people listen. The people don’t like being told to change. The people have too much pride in the society we created following the rise of powers.

People without powers are left isolated and degraded. People with stereotypically villainous powers are abused and treated like shit while those gifted with heroic-like powers are praised and treated like gods.

Our society needs to change but the way Lee has chosen to go about bringing that change is wrong.

One time I asked him why he didn’t go to school to become a hero, to prove society wrong. To prove people with villainous powers can be heroes too. That powers don’t make the person, the person makes the powers.

“No place would accept me,” he said. “When my powers activated… I… I was playing with my cars and they began to turn to dust… Everything my hands touched turned to dust. I started screaming and my mom came in with a worried expression

“She fell to her knees and told me to calm down but I couldn't…”

Tears pooled in his eyes and his voice began to choke out every word.

“She pulled me into a hug and then she started screaming and pushed me away… On her back where my hands had been. God, there was so much blood, Jay and I couldn’t call for help. The phone fell apart in my hands. She was already dead by the time my dad got home,

“He sent me away. He couldn’t handle knowing his own five-year-old son had killed his wife.”

Lee stared down at his hands.

“I still can’t control my powers. At any time I could accidentally destroy this bus. I could hurt you… I could hurt you. Who would want someone like me to be a hero?”

“I would,” I whispered.

His smile looked like fractured glass.

“It might be too late for me to be a hero now.

16.Sometimes the drifting apart of a friendship is gradual. Sometimes it’s quick. For Jane and Mels’ friendship, Jane felt like she was pulling a loose thread tighter only to feel tears of frustration prickle at the corners of her eyes as she saw the thread loosen again, occasionally losing more stitches. She was stuck looking on because somewhere along the way she had lost the needle in the sands of Kronos’ beach.

“Hey, Jane,” Mels said as she sat down. “How are you?”

“Great. How was your morning?" Jane replied, trying to focus on the conversation.

It was so hard to focus these days. Mels’ reply was negative but Jane couldn’t register the contents and everything sounded thick like her head was underwater. Jane murmured vaguely while Mels turned on her phone, scrolling through her messages.

The silence was stifling for Jane but she didn’t know what to say. Should she ask after her sister? Who her latest crush is on? A school thing?

“Finals are coming soon,” she settled on. “Which are you dreading?”

Mels glanced up from her phone, distaste clear on her face.

“Jay, don’t get me started on finals. You know I’m not prepared for any of them.”

Personally, Jane felt Melane was exaggerating but she did not interrupt her friend’s tirade.

“I guess chemistry,” Mels concluded after several minutes of listing why she thought each final was going to be difficult. Jane nodded, not sure what to say. The bell rang for class. Jane did not see Melane again until the next morning.

17. Joseph had been Chase’s roommate since their freshman year of college. After three years he couldn’t really call them friends but they were closer than mere acquaintances. Chase was not the kind of guy that was easy to get to know. He was a stubborn, rude, asshole but Joseph liked him okay. He had a low tolerance for bullshit and messing around which was basically all Joseph liked to do. They balanced each other out that way.

Joseph liked to think the reason Chase had such a low tolerance for bullshit was that he liked to shove his own behind a counter and never speak about it. That was probably kind of unhealthy but he was no therapist so he just shrugged his shoulders like “what can you do”. Today was one of those days where Joseph actually got to see some of basket case’s bullshit and found himself stumped.

“I’m not going to be here tonight. I’m going to help my dad check my mom out of the hospital.”

Joseph spit out his drink and looked up from his show.

“Your mom was in the hospital! Since when?”

Chase grimaced, probably more at the idea of touching the sticky soda that had been sprayed from Joseph’s mouth than the question.

“Six months ago.”

Joseph felt sick. Did Chase say something about this while he wasn’t paying attention?

“What happened? Coma? Cancer?”

Chase got a peculiar expression on his face like he was debating on whether to answer the question or smack his roommate for being insensitive.

“She had a mental breakdown.”

“Holy fuck.”

18. Matt heard crying from through the baby monitor. It’s too early for this, he thought in despair as the fog of sleep seeped out of him.

“Janielle, could you―” he mumbled, frowning as his arm hit the cold sheets beside him.

Had she already started to make her way to the twins’ room? He sat up slowly, blanket slipping off his shoulders causing him to shiver in the frigid morning air. He scratched his fluffy brown hair scanning the room. The crying persisted. Maybe both the twins were up. He should go―

There was a note on Janielle’s pillow. She probably had to go to work early, he thought, grabbing the note, making his way down to the nursery. Halfway down the hall, he froze.

Matt,

I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I wasn’t even sure I could handle being a mom of one but of twins, I just can’t. And Matt, you’re sweet but before we found out I was pregnant, I was going to break up with you. You’re a great guy but you’re just not the great guy for me. I’ll send money for Bernice and Aaron when I can. I love them and you dearly but I am afraid I can’t be there for you three.

Love,

Janielle

Matt felt numb. He robotically went up to one of the cribs and picked up Bernice. Aaron, miraculously, had not woken up.

“What’s wrong, Burn-Burn,” he whispered feeling like he was choking on every word. “I-is it Mommy? Did you see her leave?”

Bernice continued to wail. Matt sank to the floor, cradling his daughter close.

“I’m sorry. Daddy’s so sorry Burn-Burn,” he croaked.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know what he was going to do.

He was alone.

19. I sat down at a table, a trusty trash can by my side. My sharp blades glittered smartly as I swiftly cut ovals and triangles into a dead tree sheet in the shape of a circle folded multiple times like a two-dimensional cone. I unfolded it. Snowflake decoration twenty-five complete and ready for hanging.

“Hey, Clarence. Nice snowflakes.”

I paused in my work and looked awkwardly up at who had spoken.

“Um… Why thank you, Karen. Well, um… how are you doing?” I floundered.

“Great,” she beamed. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing really,” I muttered looking at her shoulder.

I could literally hear her smile grow.

“Fantastic.  I'm having a holiday Christmas party for everyone at work at my house on Christmas Eve. Would you like to come?”

I didn't want to go.

“Yes.”

She clapped excitedly.

“Sweet. Do you need my address?”

“No. I still have it on my phone. How many people are coming so far?”

Karen looked downcast.

“Well, only you and I so far,” she perked up. “But I'm sure lots of others are going to come too.”

Well, there goes my chance of skipping out.

“See you at the party, Karen.”

“See you there, Clarence,” she winked at me.

20. I live with Father and Mother in my dreams, although they are not my mother and father, those are simply their names. They are married but they are not in love.

Father once told me that Aunt and Uncle decided that he and Mother should be joined together in holy matrimony forever. However, Father when narrating these events to me always pronounces the forever as foe-ever. I can understand why Father might view Mother as an enemy. They are completely opposite forces of nature, after all.

Mother is small, poised, and incredibly neat. She wears her white hair straight down, not a single hair out of place. She dresses in a wedding gown so clean and refined, lacking the creases made by clothes on a body that it is as if she is not wearing the dress at all. She is often quiet and seldom speaks. When she does her voice is clipped, cold, and cruel like the breaking off a glass.

Father has messy black hair and wears a rumpled burgundy suit. He is loud and very kind.

Mother rules the house. She keeps the house so spotless it is devoid of life. It is wretched but I enjoy living with them when I sleep.

“Ernest,” Mother calls. “When are you going to come find us? Father and I grow tired of waiting for you.”

Father laughed. “The only thing we can agree on. When are you coming, Nestling?”

I blinked. “I don't know where the house is.”

“Do not,” Mother corrects flatly as if she cannot even summon annoyance to respond to my stupidity.

Father rolls his eyes at her and grabs my hand.

“Well then, sweet Nestling, I'll simply have to fetch you. Where do you find yourself now?”

Smiling widely, I whisper, “Broomstock’s orphanage in Miller’s Hollow.”

Father frowns and hums vaguely.

“That's so far Nestling, amusement peppering his voice. “But Mother and I will make the journey to retrieve you.”

Mother leaned forward and muttered, “Be grateful, boy. If it were up to me, we'd leave you there and simply wait for your lazy bum to make its way to us.”

“Oh, hush, Mother,” Father laughed. “She likes you. She would have grown very impatient and ran ramped to find you if it was up to her.”

I smiled. How lovely, my friends wished to come to whisk me away. Too bad they were only the products of a child’s fancies.

“I look forward to your arrival, Father, Mother.”

“See you soon,” Father cried.

“Farewell,” Mother muttered grudgingly.

I open my eyes to the wooden beams of the ceiling, cold seeping into my bones. If only they would come.

Regular prompts are also still open. I'll try to get a poem out tomorrow but no promises.

[ecotone99]

[MF] Gone Songs #02 The Rainmakers

Marco holds on to the small, velvet box; hesitating before passing it over. "You won't drop it?" he asks.

"Look, just because I showed up late-"

"-for my wedding-"

"-for your wedding-"

"-and you're my best man-"

"-Gah! Such pressure!" I fumble with the cummerbund, turning it until it was centered over my belly. Or at least close enough. "It wasn't my fault. My mom hasn't set the clocks forward for daylight savings time yet-"

"-which should have been done weeks ago-" Marco tugs my cummerbund to it's just right position.

"-yeah, you know how she is. Anyway, I'm here now." I hold out my hand, palm down. "Look. Steady as a rock."

Marco moves to give me the ring. I make the hand shake wildly.

"Oops," I fling it behind my back. "Try this one," I offer my other hand, palm up.

Marco sighs. He places the box in my hand.

"Let's go."

***

Luckily, we make it to the church in time and I am able to stand next to my best friend as he marries his High School sweetheart. No, really, she is still in High School. Seventeen years old. Marco, the man himself, only nineteen.

Too young, some would say. Most would say. But they don't know Marco like I do. The earth will turn, the sun will rise, God will rule in heaven, and Marco will be married to this one woman - girl, now, but woman soon enough - for the rest of their long, fruitful lives.

Such certainty. It is more than I deserve, being counted among those to witness the event. And I surely don't deserve the honor of standing at the groom's right hand, holding the ring. Well, I suppose that's another advantage of having grown up in a small Kansas town. No competition. I didn't have to be that good to be a best man.

***

After the ceremony, chaos. Pictures are wanted, names are shouted out; flashbulbs and laughter, hugs and handshakes. During a lull, I'm called to the parking-lot for a consultation.

"What do you think?" Don asks. He and a crew of helpers stand next to the honeymoon car - a workhorse wood-paneled station wagon; 'Just Married' soaped on the rear window and a dozen empty soda cans tied to the bumper.

"Great," I say. "Fine." Then, as I get closer and look in the window, I see a scattering of popcorn over the front seat.

"What's that?"

"That's a prank. You know, fill the car up with popcorn so...."

"Funny," I agree, "But don't you think there should be more? That's, like, not a lot of popcorn." In truth, the front seat doesn't look any worse than having taken a sharp turn with a bag of old movie theater 'corn riding shotgun.

Don shrugs.

I get money from my wallet and tell him, "Go to Wal-Mart. They sell those big bags of the stuff for cheap. You know what I'm talking about? Looks like garbage bags? Sometimes cheesy flavored; or caramel? Get as many as you can."

Don grabs some friends and they hurry away. Robert, one of Marco's younger brothers, stands by my side. "That's going to be messy," he says.

I laugh. "Yeah."

"Shouldn't you stop that sort of thing?"

"What?"

"You're the best man. Shouldn't you stop them from doing that?"

I look at Robert for a moment. "I don't know," is my honest answer.

***

The reception. I'm introduced to one of the bridesmaids - a pretty redhead named Anne, and we dance. We dance goofy in a group. We dance slow together. We talk about the bride and groom. We talk about ourselves. She's studying management at K-State. I've moved south, to attend the University of Houston where the temperature is more apropos for a young man ready to set the world on fire.

During a break, I leave her with friends to fetch refreshments. Since everybody in the wedding party is underage, drink choices are Sprite and Coke.

Sprite or Coke....

While making the decision, I hear a voice behind me say, "Decline and fall."

I turn. Christine Kohler stands there, dressed to the nines, smile beaming, blonde hair done fancy in a way I'd never seen on her before.

"Fall down baby!" I say, finishing the lyrics of a song that had somehow become our special salutation. I grab her in a hug.

We laugh. We hold each other at arm's length. "Look at you," I say. Chrisy Kohler, my High School running buddy, almost unrecognizable now with that blown-out hair and wearing an honest-to-goodness dress. Never a petite girl, the freshman fifteen strains the silky yellow fabric in nice places, as well as around her middle. The dress' neck line is much, much lower than her usual wardrobe of sweatshirts and Ts.

"A lot more of me, right?"

"Fornicate that. You look great."

"You clean up pretty good yourself."

"Where have you been? I didn't see you during the ceremony, or the dance."

"No surprise. You looked like you were going to pass out from the pressure of having to stand still for an hour. Anyway, I was in the back, with the cool kids."

I lean in. She smells of cigarettes. Chrisy smirks. "And we cool kids tend to hang out in the parking-lot during these John Barleycorn Must Die Baptists shin-digs. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know how it is."

"Besides." Chrisy hip-checks me hard enough that I have to steady myself against the drink table. "You're doing alright without me." She motions across the room towards Anne who is huddled with a group of girls, all of them eyeballing me while smiling and giggling into their hands.

"Can you pop the collar of a tuxedo?" I ask, giving it a try. "I feel as if I should pop my collar."

Chirsy makes the judgment call. "Perfect! Looks absolutely stupid."

I become Elvis. "Uh hunka hunka," I mumble, pelvis suddenly on a swivel, index fingers pointing nowhere in particular.

Chrisy goes upside my head. "Fool." Then, with her hand still on my back, she moves in front of me; face to face. Close. Intimate. I'm tall; we're almost eye-to-eye. A big girl. She places her other hand behind my neck and, with a caress, fixes the collar.

"You haven't changed," she says. Her pretty face, inches from mine, tilts slightly. "And in a way that's very sad." She smiles ruefully.

"Now." She steps back and slaps my tux into shape. "Get over there before Red realizes what a big mistake she's making."

I make a derisive noise. "She can wait. I'm not done talking with you."

"Yes you are." Chrisy grabs a two liter bottle from the table. "Besides, I'm due back at the parking-lot. There's some very important rum waiting for coke.... Er. I mean, there's some very important people waiting for me." She backs away, doing the Queen of England hand-wave.

"Hey," I call out. "Don't leave without saying goodbye."

Then she's gone.

***

The popcorn thing is a disaster. Never quick to anger, Marco has always been more of the slow-burn type, so I can see his temperature rise by degrees as he circles the station wagon. Through the car's windows, nothing but popcorn. Crammed to the roof. Marco opens the passenger's side causing an avalanche of the greasy stuff. Gloria, his young bride, moves to avoid having it cover her shoes. Water fills her eyes, threatening to spill over.

The gathered crowd laughs and hoots, maybe a little nervous because just popcorn might have been a good gag; but this greasy, buttery Wal-Mart gunk is well over the line. Nevertheless, we can't let the night end on a bad note so we move into action. Girls swarm Gloria, cooing comfort, while us boys start shoveling. We get enough of it off the seats, but the residue is something else entirely. Marco's worried about his rented tuxedo and Gloria's dress. I rather suspect you could toast a marshmallow over his head by now.

There are blankets in the trunk of my car. We use them to cover the seats. Marco's grumbling about irreparable damage, but it’s been a long day. Time to go.

We have a moment alone, away from the crowd. I congratulate him. Shake his hand. This is my best friend. We've gone to school together for twelve years. Since kindergarten, actually. I can't remember a time when we didn't know and like each other. Soccer leagues, camping; building things, tearing things down. Bad movies and video games. Cars and girls. Between Marco and I, all the mysteries of the universe have been discussed and settled. And we aren't even twenty years old.

I let go his hand. I'll never be part of another friendship like this one.

We make no plans. He's off to start a life. I'm gone to Texas. We'll see each other again, maybe.

I say goodbye to the best part of my childhood one more time. Maybe the last time.

And he's a little pissed. And I'm more than a little guilty.

***

I still have a few days before leaving town, so I get redhead Anne's number and we make a date for tomorrow night. She gives me a quick hug then rushes away to catch up with friends. Heh. Pop that collar, son.

Brooms and trash cans are found. I help clean the offensive popcorn off the ground. Some night birds squawk, but we're doing them a favor. Eating that stuff will kill you!

The party has ended. The reception hall is closing. I'm jawing with stragglers in the lobby, all of us unwilling to call it quits. Management has to chase us out.

Magical nights like this don't happen often, so it feels odd just leaving when it's over.

But a surprise waits for me in the parking-lot. Chrisy has parked her El Camino next to my K-Car and is sitting on the lowered gate, smoking a cigarette with a plastic cup in hand, a black leather jacket draped over her shoulders against the chill.

I laugh at the sight. She motions for me to sit next to her. "What?" she asks.

"You look so dangerous. Like the women momma warned me about." I perch myself on the gate, bumping her butt with mine as I settle.

"Watch it." She holds her cup high to prevent it from spilling.

There are a number of brown grocery bags behind us. I rummage through them and grab the first bottle I find. Triple Sec. Disgusting. Almost undrinkable unless mixed with something. Almost.

"Do you mind?" I take a cup and prepare to pour.

Chrisy arches an eyebrow. She blows smoke out the corner of her mouth.

I freeze. Waiting for approval. "Well?"

"You don't drink," she says.

"Lies!" I roar. "Slander and lies!"

She shrugs. I pour. I offer my cup for a toast. Slowly, reluctantly, she taps it with her own. "To Marco and Gloria," I say. Then gulp huge.

Chrisy sips.

When my breath returns, I ask, "What's the matter?"

After a moment, she repeats, "You don't drink, Virgil. I've never seen you drink."

"To be fair, Chrisy, there are many things you've never seen me do."

"Yeah. Thank God for that. But Virgil? You don't drink."

True to a point. I didn't drink in High School. And, because Chrisy knows me so well, she knows why. I come from a long line of alcoholics. Functional, but drunks nonetheless. Indeed, alcoholism broke up my family's home. I'm sure at some point in our long and cherished friendship I had told Chrisy that I would never drink because I didn't want to wind up like that. Broken.

However, moving away to college taught me a lot of new and interesting things about being broken. I had assumed booze was a wrecking ball, but it's not. It's a needle. And if used properly it can stitch you back together. Or close enough.

"Skip it," I say. "Talk to me. Hey, you still see Jeff? What's going on with him?"

"No." Chrisy shakes her head. "Nope. You talk to me. What happened? You used to be so.... Jesus Christ about drinking."

"Actually, Jesus drank like a fish-"

"-Virgil-"

"-Wine, but you had to back then. Water was full of dinosaur piss-"

"-I'm serious, Virg. What happened?"

I look away. Then I laugh. "What the hell, Chrisy? Who are you...? I mean, you're not exactly the temperance union sitting there."

"Here," she hands me her cup. "Drink."

"What?"

She glares. I obey. It's coke. Just coke.

"So?" I ask. "You're slowing down. That's just smart drinking, taking a break every once and awhile."

"No, Virgil, it's been coke all night. I stopped drinking years ago. I just pretend because.... Because I want to fit in. That never bothered you, though. You always stood your ground. I remember how they used to pressure you then make fun of you at parties when you wouldn't drink. How you always turned it around, made them look stupid. I admired you for that."

"Chrisy...,"

"Now look at you. Straight Triple Sec? Oh, Virgil. What the hell happened?"

**\*

What happened? I met a girl. She broke my heart. Now I drink. You want it expanded? Her name was Shubra, born in Indian, and about the most exotic, beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And before you say it, yes, I guess I did have to go to a foreign country to get laid.

Okay. I'm going to stop doing that. Joking, always joking. Neither of us deserve it.

It wasn't just looks, she had an enormous personality. She was fearless. And smart. Effortlessly smart. She aced every class without ever cracking a book.

But she was damaged. Abused. She could be reckless, borderline suicidal.

I thought I could save her. With love.

Oh, right. I said I would stop joking. Mea culpa.

She was my first, and I, hers. Later I would have good reason to examine everything she said for a lie, but not that. Never that. It was obvious.

I asked her to married me. She smiled for an answer.

Once, before I left campus to spend a holiday with my brother in Louisiana, she told me she was pregnant. Again, I proposed marriage. I didn't even get a smile that time.

When I returned, she claimed to have had an abortion. I asked no details, none were forthcoming.

Things got worse between us, then better, then worse; and so forth.

During one of the bad times, she came to my room. She stripped without saying a word. She started in on me and I reciprocated. I could tell it was wrong, her head was wrong. She was angry, cold, insistent. She was so wrong, but still I tried to make it right. God help me, I tried harder to make it right at that moment than I've ever tried to do anything else in my life. More, I know, than I ever will.

When it was over, she quit the bed and dressed with her back towards me. She might have left as she entered - smoldering and silent. But she didn't. She turned said something she shouldn't have.

I flew at her. I grabbed her. I pinned her to the bed. Ridiculous in my nakedness, I straddled her and forced her down with hands full of murder.

And the look on her face.... The scornful, dead-eyed look on her face....

It's a picture you can't forget. The best you can do is to keep washing it with alcohol until it fades.

***

"I grew up," I answer Chrisy, reaching for a refill.

She waits until I've poured and drank then says, "That's it?"

We lock eyes. "Pretty much."

Time passes. I look away first.

"I guess you have changed," Chrisy says, pushing herself off the gate. "And it is sad."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. It's late."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"Chrisy, come on. This?" I upturn my cup, splattering booze all over the pavement. "It's no big deal."

"I know. I'm just tired. Can you please get off so I can close the gate?

I oblige, closing it for her. "Well, I'm still in town a few days. Did you want...?"

"No. I can't. I'm leaving tomorrow." She checks her watch. "Today."

"Okay." I step aside so she can get in the driver's seat. Before she closes the door, I say, "So... Bye?"

"Yeah. Bye."

The door shuts. The ignition fires. She hooks an elbow over the seat to reverse out of the parking spot. Once the grill is pointed towards home, she gives me one last look.

"Hey!" I say, loud enough to be heard over the engine and through the closed window. "Decline and fall!"

She drives away, shaking her head.

End

Blame this on anonymity, plausible deniability, and the void that degrades quality. Which is a shame because The Rainmakers deserve better. Well. It had to be done. No other band comes close to having the same impact or being as important to me as The Rainmakers. They were the soundtrack to the best years of my life. So many memories associated with their songs.... Tch. My drama teacher told me she'd 'hung out with' (implication: dated) one of the band members at KU. "The drummer," she'd said, "Pat, I think." and I couldn't keep my puppy eyes off her after that. Picture me laying on my belly on the school's stage, ankles crossed, chin resting in entwined fingers; "Tell me more about him, Ms. Scovill. He smelled nice, right?" And if Rich Ruth ever sees me coming, he'd better turn the other way because I played bass guitar in a college band and I'll become Annie Wilkes on him so fast. There's no telling what I'd sledgehammer just to get him reminiscing about Doo Dad. (I thought a Rich Ruth solo album might be a good idea, then I heard Dogleg off Monster Movie and I now know it to be a necessity).

Anyway. They deserve better than this pitiful little story, but I had to get it out there and it's the best I can do. The remaining Gone Songs won't be so contemplative.

submitted by /u/virgiltempleton [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2LPOnNp

[milatherese]

Come and See A New Place

Warning: Unusually extremely long post ahead. (It is V-E-R-Y long, I’m sorry)

Just returned from retreat. If I could shorten what I got out of the retreat, it would be these three words: joy, clarity, and peace.

My last post didn’t mention any unusual or surprising occurrences so I will mention those now.

At one of the churches I attended Simbang Gabi at (let’s call it “St. Tremorus”), my mom and I met two sisters. We had seen them at the church during Mass but assumed they were only visiting since there were only two of them. We were about to leave the reception when they began talking to us. Sister Therese (turned out she was the local superior!) began talking to my mom and Sister Krista (the Vocation Director – what a surprise) began talking to me. It was almost like they planned it (I think they strategized). Towards the end of our conversation, they invited me to their Come and See retreat (the one I just got back from). Since I was open, I immediately said “Yes.” And then I checked if I was available (I was). Pro tip: Check your availability before saying “Yes” to an invitation.

I rarely say this but the retreat was a life-changing experience. It was like Divine Intervention. (I would have never heard about this retreat if my mom and I didn’t choose food at the parish hall over heading home to rest. I would have never attended St. Tremorus had I not been involved with a local parish choir. I would have never been involved with a local parish choir had I not transferred schools.) I think this community is the one I had been searching for for so many years. They had a good balance between prayer and work and seem to radiate God’s love effortlessly. They all have generous hearts. Got good vibes from all of them (except for one but it turned out to be something small which is fine).

I was nervous when I arrived. I didn’t know if I would fit in with the other retreatants or if the clothes I packed followed their rules of modesty. I didn’t know if I would feel accepted. Mom and dad accompanied me. Sister Krista opened the door and welcomed us in as did Sister Ka, who was cooking dinner. I could either join the sisters in the chapel for prayer or help Sister Ka cook. Since she was by herself, I opted to help Sister Ka. Folks left shortly after that.

Dinner was some kind of soup that tasted like sinigang. Delicious, though. I didn’t eat much as I was more tired than hungry. Met my roomie, Ann, her sister, Elizabeth, and their friend, Megan. All three were from Pennsylvania. The rest of us trickled in from other parts of California – Sara, Sammy, Princess, Mimi, Abigail, Christy, Dara, and finally Kenny (who arrived a day later). There were 12 of us, like the 12 apostles.

Each day had a schedule that went something like the following:

0600 Rise 0630 Morning Prayer (or Mass) 0700 Icebreaker and Talk (or Morning Prayer) 0800 Mass (or Icebreaker and Talk) 0900 Private Prayer 1200 Lunch 1300 Free Time 1400 Spiritual Direction 1600 Evening Prayer 1700 Talk 1800 Dinner 1900 Recreation 2000 Talk 2200 Lights out and silence until after Mass

Day 1: The Search

Sister Lin led the talk. A few takeaways: • Ask God (or ask God what to ask for) • Be aware (of what God may be trying to tell you) • Answer (respond to God’s call) • Reflect on past experiences • Life is like a tandem bike (God in the front seat)

We also learned how to pray the Divine Office (thanks, Sister Anastasia). Nothing that new with regards to the history or its use in the Church.

After lunch, we had free time. Since Ann and I had already seen the guitar in the room we were staying in and the pianos throughout the house, we were itching to touch some music. I asked Sister Krista if we could use the piano and she said “yes” so we did. Christy began playing the piano – A Whole New World. It was fun, we all sang along, just the three of us. Eventually, I got to the piano and we just began jamming out to praise and worship. Ann has a good voice. About 30 minutes passed when the door opened and we all frantically stood up as we thought we were getting kicked out or were too noisy. Turned out that Sister Lin and Sister Rose just wanted to join us! Finished our free time just singing praise and worship.

Ann went first for Spiritual Direction so I had time to shower and pray. I was a little nervous and relaxed at the same time when it came time for my Spiritual Direction but it went very well. Wrote in more detail in my paper blog. Homework from Sister Ka is to “pray and discern.”

Day 2: The Call

Sister Anastasia gave a talk on the 4 different types of vocation (maybe I’ll do a separate post on this in the future). Didn’t really learn anything as I already knew most of this (I did my own research on this topic a long time ago haha). Heard about this awesome saint – St. Giuseppe Moscati. In another life I would be him.

Ate lunch with Sister Ka and Sister Lin (and one other sister but my memory is failing me at the moment). I finally got to talk to Sister Lin. I had seen her at other tables and wherever she was everyone was laughing. She was really chill, hilarious. Found out her brother joined the Divine Word Missionaries! Forgot to get his name though.

Had another jam session after lunch but this time the room was filled. Sara and Abigail played the piano as well. Favorite song during that session was Set A Fire (Abigail on piano, Ann on vocals, me on harmony).

Spiritual Direction was quite fruitful this time. Sister Ka used the analogy of a plant: We are all plants. The soil is our vocation. The flowers and fruits are how we impact others’ lives. However, we can’t produce flowers and fruits unless we are in the right soil. So, we need to ask God and let God find the right soil for us. Homework from Sister Ka is to “write down your fears.”

At around 1600 we had a talk by both Sister Krista and Sister Anastasia about the stages in formation: aspirancy (not all religious have this stage), postulancy, novitiate, temporary vows, perpetual vows. This talk definitely cleared some fears that I had written down. 

We had night prayers and then reconciliation (we didn’t know we would have this opportunity) during Taize. By this time I kinda got the hang of Divine Office. It’s not too bad. Since I had gone to confession only about a week ago, I had almost nothing to confess (for me it was confession --> Mass --> retreat; few opportunities to sin). Penance was to “pray 5 Hail Mary’s in Thanksgiving for the blessings you have received.” Taize was beautiful. It was led by Sister Lin and Sister Mary. After we all went to confession (or at least most of us), we pinned our sins (that we had written down on flash paper) onto a styrofoam heart wrapped in foil (which symbolizes Jesus’ heart – every time we sin we pierce His heart). We lit the flash paper but the flash paper didn’t do what it should have done – it looked more like our sins left permanent burnt marks on Jesus’ heart. The sisters rolled with it though and reassured us that that’s not how it actually is. Haha

Dinner was interesting. The day before, someone brought up the Norbertines, to which Princess responded with “Oh I love the Norbertines! They’re so holy–” and we all nodded. But she wasn’t finished with her thought “–and handsome!” to which we all cracked up. Turned out that the priest who hear our confessions was a Norbertine! We all kept on nudging Princess to go make her move and choose a seat next to him for dinner. She finally did, as did Ann and myself. Sister Krista, Sister Lin, and Sammy joined us at that table as well. 

After conversing, it turned out Father Clark Kent (it came up when we forgot his name and realized he wore a cape – like Superman) and I had mutual friends in religious life: Mother and Sister Elizabeth of the Norbertine Canonesses, Sister Veronica of the Trinitarians, and Sister Maria of the Carmelites! As for his love story with God, it was almost constant. He didn’t go into detail but he did mention that he took time to seriously discern and meet with a spiritual director. Wrote in more detail in my paper blog. Princess got a picture with Father Clark. I did, too, but only to show to our mutual friends that we had met.

Post-dinner was clean up time. Had the pleasure of assisting Sister Anastasia with cleaning the chapel (of the different options for cleaning the place, I really wanted to clean the chapel since that’s where Jesus is). Watered (more like “iced”) the poinsettias and wiped (not mopped because we didn’t use any liquid) the floors.

Day 3: The Response

This time, Mass was at 0800. Same wake up time but slightly different schedule. Learned how to pray with objects (thanks, Sister Anastasia). My object was a cabbage cutter / peeler. 

There are three parts to praying with objects:  1. Sit with the object for some time. What would the object say to you? 2. Sit with the object again for some more time. What would Jesus say to you about the object? 3. What is the overall message from praying with that object?

For me, it went something like this: 1. We are very similar. We are made in a unique way. We both were made for a specific purpose. 2. You have all you need to fulfill your purpose. However, the cabbage cutter / peeler cannot cut cabbages or peel food unless someone is holding it by its handle. Similarly, you have to let Me hold you and let Me use you to fulfill your purpose and touch lives. 3. In two words, trust God.

During breakfast, we found out that we would be on silent retreat at their prayer house (30 minutes away) and would return after dinnertime. We departed at 0915. Ann, Sara, Sammy, and I rode with Sister Lin. I got shotgun (Sister Lin didn’t want me throwing up in the backseat). Prayed the Rosary on the way then talked about confirmation saints in British accents and Piglatin (we reverted to plain American English after trying a few sentences). Sister Lin’s was Mama Mary and Ann’s was St. Catherine of Alexandria. Sara was much too young and Sammy was still undecided.

Once we arrived we had a mini tour of the outside area. Cute location. Sister Lin led some icebreaker games (my brain wasn’t awake yet so I didn’t do so well) before we went inside for Sister Ka’s talk on discernment. After everyone was finally gathered (I had to round up some people who were missing) and in the room upstairs (Sister Ka was saying we were like Jesus and the Twelve gathered in the Upper Room), Sister Ka began, “From this moment on, you cannot speak.”

A few takeaways from Sister Ka’s talk: • Discernment ≠ Decision-making: — Discernment: what God wants, involves prayer and reflection — Decision-making: what I want, is black and white   • Discernment is a habit: (B.U.T.) — Be aware: of the experience, movements of the soul, etc.; openness, let go and let God — Understand: the experience; continual reflection (how movements of the soul affect me) — Take action: responding in freedom • 7 Attitudes Required to Discern: 1. Openness 2. Generosity 3. Courage 4. Interior Freedom 5. Prayer and Reflection 6. Have priorities straight 7. Not confusing end with means • Questions for thought: Say someone wrote you a love letter and you responded to it 10 years later. How do you think that person feels with your much-delayed response? Each vocation is a love letter from God. How do you think He would feel if you delay responding to Him?

I might have a separate post on her talk. There was so much content.

Sister Ka’s talk was very insightful and offered a lot of clarity. Of all the talks we have had thus far, I benefitted most from her talk. I think it was during this talk that clarity in my call to religious life rose from 60% to 80%. Sister Nga had us each write down our B.U.T. It was during this that I found rebuttals to all the fears that I had written down. My fears were gone. 

After this talk we had personal prayer time and lunch. Lunch was lasagna. For some reason I was really hungry. Had two full plates for lunch. I was surprised at my appetite. I think Sister Krista was surprised as well. It was as if all that discernment suddenly made me physically hungry.

Per usual, we had Spiritual Direction. Ann went first. While waiting for my turn, I prayed and wrote in my paper blog. I got nothing. I think God was telling me “You already know what to do. What else is there for me to tell you?” I told Sister Ka this during my session with her (I’ll need to make a separate post strictly on my discernment during this retreat). She gave me pointers and told me to prepare for “turbulence from the evil spirit.” Homework from Sister Ka is to follow everything I had written down for my Take Action.

We had one last Adoration/Holy Hour and Divine Office with the sisters at the prayer house. The sisters had decorated the altar with a fishnet (not the pantyhose) and added paper fish and green paper boats on it around the nativity scene. We prayed Divine Office (thank you to Sister Joan for instructions). After this, Sister Krista guided us in meditation. We wrote down our fears on the boat then offered that up to God and got a paper fish. Each paper fish had a quote from Scripture. Mine was from Romans 12:12

Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, persevere in prayer.

Considering my journey in discernment thus far, this Bible verse was very applicable to me.

Then came dinner. Dinner was another dish from their culture and, just like the previous dishes, it was delicious. Since we were so many, we had to set up another table. I put my food down at the other table and helped set it up. However, when I went to retrieve my plate, it had disappeared! I placed it right between Elizabeth and Dara. I didn’t want to get another plate since it would simply be a waste if I found my original plate. Sister Anastasia found out about it and helped me look for it. The whole time Dara and Maria were very quiet and played dumb. After spending about 5 minutes looking for my plate, Dara came up with my plate. Apparently, she had placed it on the chair right next to her and Sister Anastasia!  I was finally able to eat. At our table sat Sister Joan, Sister Lin, Christy, Ann, Sister Krista, Sister Mary, Sister Nga, and Princess (and perhaps one more retreatant? my memory is failing me). We had the majority of the sisters so it was fun. 

We left the prayer house post-dinner and headed back to the convent for a movie. Sister Lin hoped that we could do a little bit of praise and worship before the movie so Ann and I hit the showers as soon as we arrived. We were the first out. We went to our room to finish. It was during this time that I told her my intentions in terms of religious life. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I needed to tell someone other than my spiritual director. We broke the house rule of not conversing in the rooms. In doing so, we were delayed in coming down and missed our last chance to have a praise and worship session with Sister Lin. I regret telling Ann at that moment. I believe I could have held it in for a few more hours.

The movie we watched was The 4th Wise Man starring Martin Sheen (dad of Charlie Sheen who was a huge fan of Fulton Sheen, hence the change of his last name to “Sheen”). It was a good movie. We could all see ourselves in each of the characters. (Side note: If you are reading this, you should watch it. I may do another post on this movie.) Sister Krista and Sister Anastasia joined us for the movie. It was like they were babysitting children who were feasting on junk food haha.

After the movie Sister Krista bid us farewell (Sister Anastasia had already left) and said that we could hang out in the common room until 2200 but we asked her to stay. We were comfortable with her, especially since she had already seen all of our flaws and weird quirks and was comfortable with her own quirks. It became our mini sharing time. I think it was during this time that we all truly bonded. We went through several topics ranging from Princess’ attraction to Norbertine priests to how much we were going to miss each other. I rarely say this and feel this way but I truly enjoyed being in a room filled with women (rather these women) this time. Normally women maarte-ness (sorry, it’s Tagalog and I have no idea what it is in English) is too much for me but they were fine and weren’t maarte at all.

I brought up possibly doing the Camino de Santiago someday and a few of them said they would like to join me. Princess and Ann seem like they really want to do it with me. Problem is scheduling and flights. Princess isn’t that far from me so that won’t be a problem but she doesn’t regularly work out so she may not be fit to join. Ann lives far away and is basically in grad school so the timing may never work out. If God wills it, it will happen. (I say this but I honestly really hope doing the Camino de Santiago is something God wants me to do, too)

We finally hit the sack at 2300 and that was the end of our last full day of retreat.

Day 4: The Offering

Morning was pretty much the same despite the few differences. We were allowed to sleep in an extra 30 minutes. However, Sister Marlene accidentally rang the bell at 0600 so we didn’t really sleep in (it’s fine though as we had already awaken on our own before the bell was rung). Sister Anastasia rang the bell again at 0630. 

Another retreatant sat where I usually sit for Divine Office so I was a little disoriented. If Divine Office was an exam and not a prayer, I failed miserably. Btw, that thing psychologists tell you about sitting in one spot of the classroom and taking an exam at the same spot helps you remember things more is very true (exam tip!).

After Divine Office, we had one last talk. This time, it was by Sister Krista and it was on our offering to God. She related our offering to God to the process of gift-giving (it is a process, afterall). A few points: • When you give someone a gift, you try to figure out what they like and/or what kind of things they appreciate. The kind of gift you give is based on that person’s likes and dislikes. Same goes with God: what you offer Him is something He would truly appreciate. — Would you offer Him money? He doesn’t need that. He can have all the money in the world. Heck, He can make money grow on trees (He is the Creator) — Would you offer Him your favorite food? He doesn’t need that. — Offer Him your life and become an extension of His hands and feet to help Him touch others. • Cup of Tea example: A tea bag has no use until it is placed in water. But not just water at any temperature (cold would work but it would take a while). Hot water. When a tea bag is placed in hot water, what happens? The hot water mixes with the contents of the tea bag and makes tea. The tea bag doesn’t make tea on its own. The hot water makes tea. Similarly, sometimes we need to be put in “hot water” before we can produce something beautiful.

Breakfast was leftovers which was great since I enjoyed all the food that was previously served the past few days. Also great because it shows that they actually care about not wasting food. They try not to waste anything – quick story: Sister Lin (or Sister Anastasia?) offered me a napkin. I refused and said “I don’t want to waste it as I might not need it.” So that sister ripped hers in half and said “Yeah, we typically split ours with each other so that we won’t waste napkins.”

Post-breakfast was our Emmaus walk – choose a buddy and walk and talk about your journey with Jesus. As you probably expected, Ann was my buddy. I wish I could share the things we talked about but those are confidential. I will say this though: we both grew spiritually. The retreat was fruitful for both of us. We are grateful. We finished in time to attend Mass (walking in with Sister Marlene and Sister Ono 2 minutes before Mass began).

We walked into our section (2nd or 3rd row of the right middle section facing the altar). I sat next to Abigail (who apparently was hoping I would be able to sit next to her? nothing against it but I don’t think I’m that exciting haha). After we got situated, I looked around and guess who I saw in the first row? Sister Felicia! During one of the previous meals at the convent, I brought up Sister Felicia and her love story with Jesus as it was similar to someone else’s love story. To see her at St. Tremorus was the most surprising thing. Before Mass began, the cantor suggested we stand and greet one another. In the process, I made I contact with Sister Felicia, who looked like she was trying to figure out if I truly was Mila. For a second, it seemed like she was confident it was me and I saw a glimmer of surprise in her face but it quickly faded. I knew straightaway who she was (especially since I had just told someone about her) so I smiled. She still had the grouchy disposition she has always had, though. Oh well. 

Sister Ka was right in warning me about turbulence. I found it very difficult to stay focused during Mass. There was a family with small (and very active) children directly in front of me so it was easy for me to get distracted. I survived, though.

Lunch was a little sad as it was our very last meal where we would all be together. 

Sometime after lunch, we had our time for sharing. We each went around saying a few words (or a lot of words) about our experience during the retreat. Some had fallen away from the faith but the retreat renewed their faith. Others found out they were called to religious life. Still others found they were not called to religious life. It was a different experience for everyone. Although it was not my intention (I was just so focused on listening), I went last. I had my words formulated at the beginning of the gathering but I had forgotten them by the end. I had a few words: joy, clarity, and peace. 

After our sharing, the sisters instructed us to come closer together and leave some room behind us enough for someone to pass by. We did but as soon as we got together, we realized that the sisters were going to give us blessings. Sister Krista said “So now, we would like to give you a gift. A gift of prayer. We will give you each a blessing like this *puts hands on someone’s shoulders* and will whisper to you things that we noticed about you and words God would like to say to you.” We all scooted closer together and passed around the box of tissues. We already knew that we might cry. We closed our eyes and waited. 

It took some time before someone came to me as I was the furthest from the sides of the room. For each person that prayed over me, I knew who it was as soon as their hands touched my shoulders: Sister Ono, Mother Superior, Sister Ka, Sister Krista, and Sister Anastasia. Not all the sisters were available (some had left the previous night to lead a retreat and others had to prepare the next meal). I didn’t cry during the laying of hands but I did right after. They had prepared some gifts for each of us: baby Jesus (Sister Krista said “the greatest gift of all!”), a card saying that they had included us in their Christmas novena (I’m so glad they did), and a glass jar of succulents from the garden (again, we’re all plants in God’s garden). 

By this time, my parents had arrived (I found out they had been welcomed to the Coventry by Mother Superior). It was 1630 on the dot. We all hugged each other and shed a few tears before we let go. Princess started a group hug for me before I left. Ran upstairs to grab my things and to the chapel to grab my phone. Took a few pictures. Our faces showed that we had been crying. Got most of their numbers and we promised to keep in touch.

And that was the last day.

Thanks for reading.

[release-retrieve-blog]

Chaos and disorder frighten me because I am generally a calm and delicate person. I get uncomfortable when my friends are upset, especially if they are crying. There is definitely a part of me that sees crying as weak. Crying also scares me. I think because I can feel the awfulness behind the years of a grief stricken person. I spent a lot of my childhood trying to make adults around me happy so they would stop crying, because it scared me. There is a story my aunt often tells about when her younger sister committed suicide and she was wracked with grief and crying, and I said to my mother, "why is she doing that? Make her stop, it's scaring me!" I was only maybe three when this happened, and I don't remember it well. I threw tantrums often as a child, so I'm not sure where this fear of emotion comes from. When my mom would dropstop me off at my cousin's house while she went to work, I would stare out the front door and scream and cry as i watched her walk away and get into her car and drive off. I would usually be left alone in a room until I exhausted myself from the tantrum and was able to fall asleep. I'm now remembering all the times with my mom as a child that could have contributed to my anxiety. I don't think i was born anxious. My dad always told me i seemed to be born "aware" and that i was extra sensitive to sound as an infant. The first fear i remember having was when we lived at the Plainville house, which we moved away from when I was about 4. I was always afraid to go upstairs by myself because i was afraid that lava would start spilling down the stairs. There was one time when i remember waking up in the morning and the floor being covered in black ants. Like couldn't see the carpet. I screamed for my mom and she called an exterminator and he never found anything. Im Not sure if i had a dream and then thought it was real, or if the exterminator was called first and inspired a dream later, but i have the timeline mixed up. I remember as a kid i wasn't really afraid of anything but i kind of wanted to be afraid of something, so in my new room at our new house, I thought of ghosts and i pictured a little white ghost that looked similar to the decorations you can make out of a sock and some white napkins. I pictured it hovering over my bed, being spooky, until it actually became a little spooky. The fear didn't last. The next thing was worms, I think. I remember my aunt Molly saying she was afraid of them and i think i wanted to be like her, so i tried to make myself afraid of them as well. I saw an episode of Goosebumps called Stay Out Of the Basement where there is a man who turns into a plant or something and there is a scene where the non-plant man sits down on his bed and it shows a tiny earthworm fall out from under the covers and wriggle around on the floor. After that, I would imagine that there were worms in my bed when i would be going to sleep at night and it didn't take long for it to become a full-fledged fear that I still have a bit of, now. It didn't help that my aunt Lorraine would tell me that the stuffing in my blankie would turn into worms if i didn't let her wash it (I never wanted her to wash it, even though it always smelled of smoke, because to me it smelled like home and reminded me of my parents). The next fear was clowns and i was about six or seven. I was never really bothered by them. I was kind of indifferent. They weren't really funny, but they also weren't scary. A lot of kids were afraid of them though, and I think i wanted to be afraid to fit in, but also because I was curious about what it must feel like to fear them. So i would imagine a clown in my closet at night or under my bed. I remember one time I was staying at my cousins' house for the night, and i was sleeping on the water bed in the guest room. I would lightly kick my feet to make waves, and I imagined a creepy clown climbing up onto the bed. That actually did freak me out and i think i slept with the light on. There were also other fears that started more naturally, I guess you could say. Like house fires. In kindergarten, the fire department came to our school and set up a fire simulation that looked like a house and we each had to crawl through it while it was "burning" (there were orange lights to simulate flames and i think a fog machine for smoke). We were timed and then told whether we "survived" or not. To say it was traumatic is an understatement. For MONTHS afterwards I was terrified of house fires. I would make my parents check all the fire detectors constantly. I remember one time, I heard this faint chirping sound, that sounded like a fire detector, so my parents and i searched the entire house and eventually discovered the sound was coming from a you with a low battery at the bottom of my toy chest. I was also afraid of tornadoes at this time, I think because the blue ash tornado had happened recently and a couple of my cousins were obsessed with the movie Twister, so I saw glimpses of it here and there. I also saw a Chucky movie that uncle dan was watching and I was honestly afraid of that damn doll until I was like 22 years old and finally stopped checking under the bed for it. As I got older, I eventually became afraid of ax murderers. I think after watching a Halloween special on the history channel about the Villisca ax murders or something. I still remember the narrator's voice, "on the night of June something, an unknown assailant crept into the family's home...". Aside from obviously giving myself a bit of anxiety, i think another portion comes from my mom. I remember being a pretty chill kid up until I started school. I can't remember if it was kindergarten or first grade, but the first time something bad happened was before ange was born. I think i was five. I came home from school, excited about a skating party that was happening that night. I don't know where my mom was, so i got some milk and oreos and laid down on my belly in front of the tv, probably watching Dragon Tales of something. A few minutes later, a police woman with a blonde ponytail came into the room and scooped me up. There were other officers and i could hear their radios. The woman carried me, kicking and screaming, across the backyard to our neighbor miss bonnie's house. I remember sitting on her kitchen counter, crying, while seeing bonnie's expression, a mixture of shock and concern, as the police woman (i assume) told her what was going on. I dont think I knew what had happened (I still kind of dont, because it all blurs together now, but I think my mom may have tried to overdose on pills) just that something was wrong and i didn't know where my mother was or why a strange woman had taken me from my home. I remember being too afraid to ask so instead i cried about wanting to go to the skating party, even though I didn't care about it anymore. I dont remember police coming into our house again, but I do remember several other instances where similar things happened. I would have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach on my way home from school, and instead of playing with my friends, i would run home from the neighborhood bus stop to make sure my mom was okay. She would often be passed out on the couch. She had to be taken away in an ambulance a few times, once for her "tonsils" and another time for her "gallbladder". I don't know if she really had a gallbladder attack or if that was an excuse given to me because my parents thought it would be less scary. I remember she had her tonsils removed a couple years later though, so that was definitely a lie. After ange was born, she went to "summer camp" (rehab). She wrote me letters about how she was happy and making friends and finally laughing again. I missed her so much. After that, she seemed to be doing better for a long time. Then, over the summer before i went to second grade, things got bad again. I remember now what actually happened. For a long time it was tangled up. I was playing at my cousin chelsey's house and we wanted to have a sleepover for the third night in a row. We were fixing to call my dad and ask if I could stay again, and then convince her mom to say yes, too. Then, Jen got a phone call. It was my dad and she seemed upset. "Oh my God! Of course she can stay." When she handed the phone to me, my dad told me in a serious tone that there had been an accident and my mom was hurt very badly, but was going to be okay. He told me she was airlifted to the hospital. I remember going to visit her there, and trying to make light of the situation by talking about "how neat it must have been to fly in a helicopter" because I was so afraid to acknowledge the heaviness I felt in my heart. I think i was told that she tripped while carrying a knife to the kitchen table, and cut herself badly. I later learned that she had shot herself in the side, with my dad's shotgun I didn't know he had. I was terrified of guns after that. And then the carpet being replaced in my parents room and the little closet nook wall being torn down made more sense. I wondered if my dad had to clean up the mess himself or if a crime cleaning crew helped. I never asked because i dont think I really wanted to know.