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[duskwoodanne]

Sweeter Than Fiction

Jake x MC First Date One Shot

Words: 2.4k

Jake and MC go on their first real date. Shy, and awkward, Jake can’t seem to get his words to come out right. Luckily, MC is fluent in Jake and she is delighted to help him figure it out.

It is very fluffy, very sweet and super soft. I haven’t named MC, or described her in detail. I wrote this instead of the battle I’ve dreaded for months, and the epilogue I should have posted weeks ago🤭❤️

Jake

Anxiety was simply an electrical storm in his brain. A painful, confusing, and frustrating storm, but he knew it was all caused by himself. That didn’t stop him from fretting. Pacing the floors, biting his nails to the quick as he tried and failed to gather the courage to knock on her door. Why was he so nervous? He was taking her out for their first real date. He’d spent the last few days with her, always leaving before it got too late, yet he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he stared at the door. His shirt collar turned into a noose, and he couldn’t get enough air. It was stupid. He knew that, but it didn’t matter. Emotions didn’t respond to logic, and he hadn’t yet learned how to calm them.  

Sighing, shaking his head, and desperately ignoring the creeping shame crawling up his neck, he squared his shoulders, raised his fist, and gave the door 3 sharp knocks before his mind could turn against him again. He held his breath as running footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door. The metallic click of a key turning in the lock made it to his ears over the fierce beat of his heart. And there she was. Smiling brightly, a vision of loveliness and freedom as she beckoned him inside and told him to wait while she grabbed her purse and jacket. Her blue sundress fluttered around her calves, and her loose hair fell down her back in gentle waves. She was a daydream he’d never dared to allow himself to have.   

“What do you think?” She asked as she emerged from her bedroom, giving him a twirl and an expectant smile.   

He thought many things as he ran his gaze over her small form. Stunning, perfect, and far too good for him, but he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. She hadn’t listened the first time, and he wanted to keep her.   

“You look like music.” He said and wanted to slap himself as she frowned and cocked a brow.   

“I look like music? Is that Jake language, or are you nervous?” She teased. His cheeks were on fire, and the noose/collar around his throat tightened more as her lips curled upward.  

“I’m nervous, but I meant it. You look like music you can get lost in, the kind that makes you want to dance and feel it.”  

Her smile wobbled slightly, eyes sparkling as she turned her gaze to the floor and shook her head. He immediately assumed she was upset and cursed his lack of confidence. But then she grinned, and he saw only joy in her endless eyes.   

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.”   

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, his head spinning as she sidled up to him and slipped her arm through his. Somehow, it became easy, simple, and straightforward as they left her house and walked to his car. He opened her door for her, reluctant to let her go but impatient to get their night started. As they drove away, she quickly connected her phone to the car speakers, and he relaxed as music filled the charged silence between them. He kept stealing glances at her, hungrily memorizing every detail to obsess over later. The summer sun had tinted her skin the color of honey, and more freckles sprinkled like glitter across her cheeks from long summer days working in her garden. She was most at home with her hands in the dirt, leaves in her hair, and flowers blooming wild around her.  

He was useless at keeping plants alive and preferred to watch her in her element while he worked on his laptop in the shade. She peppered him with random questions as they drove. He was grateful as it took his mind off of how clammy his hands were on the steering wheel. She quizzed him on everything from his favorite song to his most hated subject during his school years. Hanging on his every word like he held the answer to everything she'd ever wondered in her life. It was difficult to concentrate on the road, so enchanted by the woman riding shotgun he couldn't focus as well as he should. Luckily, the road was quiet, and they were soon pulling into a parking spot behind the restaurant.

Instead of a Chinese place, he'd chosen a little mom-and-pop Italian restaurant. They had eaten Chinese takeout for the last couple of days, and neither fancied it again tonight. He got out of the car and hurried around the front of it to open her door. Her coy smile of thanks boosted his confidence a little as she again took his arm, and they made their way to the entrance. Once inside, they were taken to a table in the corner, away from too many prying eyes, and Jake thanked the waitress after giving their drink orders. They were handed menus and were soon left to peruse them. He doubted he would be able to taste anything and blindly picked the first pasta dish his eyes landed on and set his menu down. 

Fidgeting fingers gave away his nerves as she put her menu on the table and eyed him carefully. 

“Jake, why do you look like you're about to jump off a cliff?” She chuckled lightly, eyes full of understanding.  

He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, and avoided her opal gaze as he replied, “I'm just not used to being able to do things like this. I wasn't prepared for how overwhelming it would be.”

She tilted her head, “How can we make it less scary, then?” 

Jake went very still, eyes widening and utterly shocked she hadn't laughed or mocked him. All he saw was kindness and affection on her sweet face, and it made him a little braver.

“I think I just have to get used to it,” He shrugged, knowing he'd be nervous until the paranoia and fear he was being watched fully lifted.

She considered it, nodding once as she reached across the table and gently stopped him from picking at his nails, threading her fingers through his as she said, “So, exposure therapy then? We'll work together, and maybe it'll shift faster.” She winked, making him laugh and shake his head.

His fingers tingled pleasantly, and a delightful warmth spread from his chest, down to his legs, and up his neck, burning away some of the fear thickening his tongue.

“If you think that'll help, I trust your superior knowledge of how humans behave. If it doesn't come with a power button, I'm lost,” He jested sarcastically, so she grinned and flashed those distracting dimples again.

“I'll have you mimicking humans perfectly within a month.” She declared, nodding decisively as the waitress returned with their drinks, and they gave her their order.

And just like that, he could ignore the buzzing in his ears. The nerves faded to a muffled chattering in the back of his head as they discussed what movie they'd watch later. She was partial to cheesy horror movies, while he hadn't seen many movies to have an opinion. Whenever he struggled for words, she read them on his face and supplied him with the right ones. He was used to frustration and scorn whenever he couldn't handle something in a social setting, but she never even blinked and seemed able to read between the lines of his frown or smile. It was a new kind of freedom, and the restaurant felt more like hallowed sacred ground to him. Like he'd entered a dreamland full of happy chatter, the fragrance of freshly cooked tomatoes and garlic, the vivid colors, it all seemed oddly unreal.

When the waitress brought their meals, they fell into a peaceful quiet as they ate and only spoke to offer each other bites of food or to ponder whether to share a desert or get one each. It was effortless once he was out of his head, and it was good, real, and right. He might be a mess of tangled-up emotions, flaws, and enough baggage to fill a train, but she wanted him anyway, and it was enough. Love. He hadn't known it for a long time, thought he wouldn't recognize it when it showed up, but he felt it now. It was a quiet emotion lurking under the louder ones as it slowly became part of the oxygen he needed to breathe. Often it felt like it wasn't there at all, but when she was gone, he was gasping and choking for air until she returned. Something that constantly paced along his ribcage settled whenever she was near, and it felt like magic.

Pushing his plate away, surprised he'd managed to eat and enjoy it, he relaxed in his chair, took a drink of water to clear his mouth of the herbs. She was done soon after and leaned her elbows on the table, lowering her voice so only he would hear.

“I think we should get two desserts to go. I can't decide between the tiramisu and cheesecake. We can eat the leftovers for breakfast, or a midnight snack” her singular eyes twinkled under the dim lights, and his stomach dipped, butterflies taking flight.

He knew what she was implying, and he wanted to spend the night with her more than he wanted to live. His imagination was sorely lacking in the romance department, and he was terrified he'd forgotten how to act or respond during an intimate encounter. Still, her breezy manner and lighthearted way of approaching his tendency to brood and fret soothed the ragged, raw nerves under his skin. Like aloe on sunburn, she knew how to relieve and quell the sting of everything he failed to say. So he ordered the two deserts and had them packed to go. Her smile never wavered, and he drew confidence from it. She clearly wanted this and him. He just had to believe he deserved it. It was enough for now that she believed it, and he hoped to learn in time how to do so himself. 

The sky when they stepped outside, was a livid, violent bruise overhead. Shades of pink, violet, and red blended and clashed as the sun turned into bed, the fading light casting long shadows on the tarmac under their feet. She turned her face to the sky and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he wished he were skilled in the arts so he could paint her at that moment. He smiled as she opened her eyes and held his hand out. Static fizzed up his arm when she took it, and they slowly made their way to the car. Playing the gentleman, he opened her door first and waited for her to get inside, but she stared up at him expectantly, and his heart took off in a gallop as her hand cupped his cheek. Leaning into her touch, pressing his forehead to hers, and admiring the myriad of colors in her changeable eyes, he drew in a breath that infused him with her warm, sweet scent.

“You should always kiss your date before leaving. It's dating law.” She murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers, and he felt as if he would float away if she dropped her hand.

“We're going home together. I didn't think it counted,” He whispered, just to taste her laugh on his parted lips a mere inch from hers.

“Silly man, it always counts.” 

Before he could chicken out, he closed the distance between them and marveled at how soft her lips were, pliant and supple as they melted into his. Every kiss felt like the first, like he had finally returned home after years at sea or stranded in some wasteland. Tender, gentle, and insistent, she soon yielded to him and let him inside. Her other hand curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer, and he sank his fingers into her lush hair, tilting her head for better access as she hummed low in her throat. He lost himself in her and never wanted to be found. She shivered when he gently nipped her plump bottom lip with his teeth, and he wanted to see what else he could do that would make her react like that. There was only one way to find out, and he begrudgingly parted from her, kissing the tip of her nose as she blinked dazed eyes and clumsily got in the car. 

The beaming grin he wore as they drove home would not fall away until long after they tumbled into bed and passed out. Certainty he was where he was supposed to be soaked into his bones, and all his doubts scattered in the winds under the heat of her touch. He once thought himself cursed, fashioned for a life of hollow, aching numbness that haunted him even in his dreams. Destined never to forge a connection or relationship where he could be himself and reveal the scars of his life free of judgment. He saw now it wasn't true and this was real. Love didn't scream or shout; it didn't make any commotion at all when it appeared. It silently defended, protected, and comforted those it touched. She saw his scars and kissed each one, promising never to add to his collection while he breathed the same promises into her hair before she fell asleep. 

It was rare, exquisite, and slightly tarnished after all that had happened, but it threaded them together, and he would treasure it, treasure her. For he knew what a life with no love looked like, and he no longer wanted to be a phantom in his own life. The last five years of his life didn't exist. He wanted to live a life of firsts and lasts with her, mark every moment in a tangible way so they could look back years from now and say, “We were there.” And he started with a selfie of the two of them the next morning. Rumpled hair, pillow marks on their faces, and grins so wide they barely fit the screen of his phone marked their first night together. That photo was how he knew he truly believed he was free. He was very far from the man he'd been when they'd first spoken and glad of it as they danced around her kitchen, making breakfast and planning their day. He was happy. And all at once, it was enough.

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

Thank you for reading! And if you like, comment or reblog, thank you for that too. I hope you enjoyed it. I just love fluff🥰

Part 3: Silver and Gold

[duskwoodanne]

😊😊

Nicknames that Macie receives from some Duskwood characters:

Jake: Angel

Phil: Princess

Dan: Little detective, chihuahua

Darkness: Holmes

Jessy: Twin

And I'm already thinking what Eric would call her, sorry for my desire to meet him 🙏

[duskwoodanne]

*Oneshot based on chapters 5 and 8.

    Since Lilly posted the video, my whole life has been turned upside down. Jake is gone for his own good and I have to take the accusatory looks and murmurs of people.

   “You didn't expect this to happen to me, right, Jake?” I say through clenched teeth, quite annoyed.

    I had sent a message to my boyfriend, I needed to get my mind off of everything that was happening. And what could be better than exploring an abandoned house like we did before?

     I see him leaning on his Land-ROVER, looking at his cell phone. His tousled black hair covers his blue eyes. A pair of rings decorate his fingers. On his right wrist, he has the head of a snake tattooed with its mouth open, as if his hand were coming out of it. Meanwhile, on the left, a skull with a rose coming out of the skull.      My father is fine with me going out with him, he's known him since we were little, so he's happy to see that he can trust him. In addition, they sometimes work together when it is his turn to be forensic in his cases.      Unlike my mother, who found him adorable when he didn't have black hair and was free of tattoos. According to her, it sounds like something out of a satanic rock band. Every time she says it it makes me let out a small growl. His appearance drives me crazy —not to mention something much worse.

     When he sees me, he puts his phone away and waits for me to park, approaching slowly.      I get out of the car, fighting with my seat belt, almost desperate. I needed to breathe.      I run up to him and hug him, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

   "Hey..." He separates me a little and lifts my chin, with a worried look. "Are you okay, Holmes?" I let out a laugh when I heard the nickname. He knows that I like to investigate since I was a child. Him too, but in a different way.

    I have told him everything, since we have a pretty solid relationship after so many years together. I've even told him about Jake. I don't want lies in our relationship, I don't want to ruin it.

   "Yes, I'm fine," I smile, running my hand through his hair, caressing it lovingly. I stand on tiptoe and kiss him as he leans in a little.

     Their metal collars make contact with my skin. They are cold.      I separate out of discomfort, I’m too sensitive these days. All because of that stupid Lilly video.

   "If you say so," I notice annoyance in his voice. I understand. What is happening to me is not easy for him to also listen to comments from me on his work. And working as a police coroner, I'm sure he had heard their suspicions about me.

    I follow him to the back of the car, opening the trunk where there is a black suitcase inside.

   “Here it is,” he drags the object toward us and opens it. “Masks, gloves, a pair of flashlights—”

   “Are we going to investigate or rob?” I try to joke, although my voice doesn't sound very encouraging.

   “Well, when we were teenagers we did everything without being careful” he pokes me on the nose. “We have to be more professional this time, Holmes.”

     I nod and start putting on my gear. It’s true that when we were young we went around without being careful, which caused our parents to get angry with us and we always had the police on us.      I take the mask and leave it on my chin for now, and then put on the cloth gloves.

   "At least you didn't come in a skirt like you did before." I raise an eyebrow at his words. “Don't look at me like that, I don't know how you never got a scratch.”

   "Because I had you to take care of me." I smile proudly at him, but he rolls his eyes as he lets out a sigh.

   “Who else would do it?”

    He gives me a quick caress on the cheek, with a half smile, but at the same time he looks serious. He makes my stomach feel like thousands of little ants running around. 

     We approach the house and I try to look through the door window. It's completely dark and when my eyes adjust, I can see a little: There is a ladder and a clown doll hanging from the ceiling. There are also two pieces of furniture on each side.      I try to open the door, but it’s closed.

   "You don't have a pair of lockpicks, do you?" I ask, moving away from the door.

   “No, and even if I had, my thing is not to open doors with lockpicks,” he answers, crossing his arms.

    I bite the inside of my cheek and look to the sides and then touch him on the arm.

   “Let's make a detour, maybe we can enter from behind,” I comment as I start walking.

   “Okay.”

    He stands in front of me, carefully removing the weeds. He makes a gesture with his hand, as if inviting me in. I smile and put on the mask, passing by him.      There is an archway as an entrance to the backyard.      I walk over to a stationary bike and sit on it, trying to move it.

   “I… can’t…” I complain a little, trying to move the pedals.

   "Or maybe you lack strength," he rests his hands on the handlebars and I can see from his eyes that he is smiling evilly. It's clearly a joke, the bike is in a state of not having been used in a long time.

    I narrow my eyes looking at him evilly. 

   “Wait,” he stands next to me, putting one foot on a pedal and his hands on the handlebars. “On three. One… Two… Three,” he says calmly. I move the other pedal and with effort we manage to move it. “Done, teamwork.”

    I raise my hand to high-five him and he accepts. But I interlace my fingers and move a little closer to his face to touch his mask with mine.

   “Good teamwork,” I agree.

    I hear him let out a small laugh and he lowers his mask, leaving a small kiss on my forehead.

   “I haven't forgotten that you called me weak,” I answer, getting out of the seat. “That kiss doesn't help me forgive you.”

   “Well, I at least had to try,” he shrugs and steps away from the bike. “Look,” he points his head behind me. “The door is open.”

   “Almost like they left it for us,” I joke as I turn around and look inside.

     I can see like cushions for the chairs in summer. Yellow and green.      Although everything seems to be cluttered with things.

   "I'll go ahead," he carefully pushes me away, turning on the flashlight, "I don't trust if there's anyone inside..."

   “Thank you for wanting to scare me.”

    I turn on the flashlight and he takes my hand, along with a small 'Careful' as we carefully enter. I step where he steps, being careful with things on the floor.      There are even gardening tools along the walls.      He takes out his phone and starts taking photos.

   “For the forum?” I ask him, curiously.

   "Yes, I'm sure they'll like this."

    I can hear some emotion in his voice. He's really passionate about these things.

   “You know? You should go back too,” he looks at me quickly before continuing walking.

   "I know, but I prefer to leave it behind...”

   "Everyone misses you."

   “I can imagine it.”

    I prefer not to talk about it, it’s something I want to leave in the past and at least he accepted my decision. But he knows how happy that forum made me.

     We go out into the hallway opening the first door we see. A bathroom.      He approaches the sink and tells me.

   "Look, a corpse." I lower my head and look at a dead fly.

   “Moron…”

   “I could have brought my equipment and made a controlled environment so that no one gets close and I could examine it carefully.”

    I let out a laugh as I shake my head. He really always has some strange occurrences. That's what I like about him, that he doesn't pretend.

     We continue and enter another bathroom, where we find a baby stroller with a pile of clothes inside. It makes my stomach turn to think that something could have happened to a little creature. It's like my protective instinct against weak people is activated.      I feel a pressure in my head and look up. I notice how he strokes my hair, as if he knew I was nervous when he saw him. I smile at him even though I can't see it because of the mask, but I can see it through my eyes. He smiles back at me when he notices it in his too.      I let him take photos in peace while I examine the place, entering a room with a pile of bottles of wine and champagne. How I would like to take one…

   "Don't do it," I hear from behind me. "Do you remember the last time you did it?"

   “It was accidentally that I vomited in my parents' closet.”

   “And you ended up grounded for a month.”

   "But now my parents can't punish me—"

   "Not your parents, but me."

    I swallow, noticing the intensity of his gaze. Ugh… If it weren't for this place…

     We leave the basement, where the entrance to the house is. The first thing I see is a tapestry on the wall.      I look up at where the clown is hanging. His blue and white suit even looks new. How long has he been here?

   “There’s ‘IT’,” I point with my hand.

    He taps it, moving it a little.

   "Let's hope he doesn't start swinging on his own then," he comments with a mocking voice, "because then I'll have to defend you from him."

   “Oh, my hero,” I put my hands on my chest as I exaggerate with my voice.

    We start investigating each on our own, looking for something interesting.

   “I love investigating these places.” I look at him for a moment and see that sparkle of excitement in his eyes. “I feel like everything I see tells a story without having to speak,” he stop looking at his phone for a moment to look at what's around him, as if he were making a mental image.

    I smile sweetly after hearing his words. His curiosity is hardly noticeable, but I always manage to see him. He is like a little child, but at the same time he has the respect of an adult.

    When I open the cabinet that is on the right side of the door, I find a lot of Christmas decoration objects.

   “Do you know anything about Jake?” I hear him ask me.

    I take a breath while I grab a calendar. Nineteen eighty-five, could this be the date when they left the house?

   “No, he hasn't said anything to me since he left.” I try not to sound upset. Although he told me about his situation with the government, of course I am upset with him. He has left me alone with the accusations. I would have liked a little empathy from you.

   “Does it bother you that I asked about him?”

   “It seems strange to me that you’re interested in him.”

   “I care about you and you know it.”

    I turn to hear him speak so softly. Although his look is not. I know he’s worried about what I'm up to, and he'd like to know as much as I do why Hannah had my phone number.

   “I know…”

   “And isn't it better to leave it?” I look at him surprised. I don't think he has ever told me to give up on the things I like, such as my passion for research. “What if he gets you into more trouble? Or worse, what if the Man without a face is also after you?”

   “Wasn't it just a legend?” I let out a somewhat dry laugh, knowing that for him legends are nothing more than legends, nothing real.

    Yes, he likes all those stories, but that doesn't mean he really imagines a ghost walking through a town taking real people.

   "I know you and I know that you suffer from all those calls in which he threatens you." I cross my arms, as if protecting myself from his words. “Don't pretend now that you didn't call me when he made that video call.”

   “Okay, yes, I'm scared,” I admit, separating my arms. I clench my fists tightly, annoyed. “I don't know where this will lead or if anyone will get hurt, I... I'm afraid for them... I'm afraid that...”

     I start by shaking like a small animal. Is it normal to feel like this? I want to trust Jake's words and that nothing will happen to my friends.      I lower my head so he can't see my eyes, holding back tears. I don't want him to see me like that.      I notice how he wraps his arms around me, pressing me tightly against his chest.

    “You know, I'm always by your side,” his voice sounds soft. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who sees this sweet side of him and the rest of the world sees the cold guy they think he is. “I know that you are going through a difficult situation and that the person you trusted has left you with a difficult situation, but I have always been with you and defended you, never forget that, okay?”

    I nod, hugging him tightly. I shed a few tears, leaving his shirt soaked.      What Jake didn't think about is that the video can be downloaded and the phone number can also be passed on, which means the situation won't end until we find Hannah.

    But the truth is that right now, I just want to be with the man who has been supporting me since it all started and it makes people's eyes turn away from me when he gives them that cold look of his.

     I notice how he slowly lifts my chin. He has taken off his mask. His gaze makes me lose myself in that sea that is only for me.      He runs his thumb over my lips and gently opens them, kissing me.      When he pulls away after a slow kiss and a few strokes of my hair, he whispers deeply.

   “Do you want me to stay at your apartment tonight?”

   “It will be a wonderful pleasure,” I reply and bite his lip.

     I hear a small growl coming from his throat.      Thank goodness I have his support to survive these difficult times or I would go crazy.

<< Will I still have the handcuffs at home?>>

♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰♰

♰Darkness♰

     It had been a while and Jake had finally returned thanks to the girls' help, although unfortunately, she had lost a friend. That caused both of them to argue. When he told me, I got angry. Not with her, but with that guy. With Jake.      He supposedly promised that nothing would happen to any of the group, and in the end what happened? Richy died.      It's been since the threats, the attack to a friend, the hacking of her phone and now the death of one of them. Didn't that guy see everything she was suffering? If I knew where he was hiding, I wouldn't hesitate to punch him and yell at him not to make her cry again. I don't want him to do it again. Or that it doesn't happen when she is alone and I can't comfort her.

   "If it weren't for the fact that she feels that he is a good man., I would denounce him," I mutter under my breath as I fill out a form for the last corpse examined.

    My phone starts ringing. I recognize the tone of the message. It's her.

    I quickly put down the folder and grab my phone from the table. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holmes🖤​ Hey We need to talk ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    I arch an eyebrow somewhat confused. It's not that it's a phrase that everyone would like to hear from her partner, but in her case, I think there is something more. She always liked to use those phrases to add mystery and, knowing her, I'm sure she does it to easily break the ice on something serious. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness What's going on?

Holmes🖤​ Well how do I begin to say this? Do you know a girl named Avali? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I sit in the chair slowly. Now I'm more confused.      I met Avali on the forum because she was asking about the man without a face. But if she knows the name Avali, it means… ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness Did you enter the forum?

Holmes🖤​ It's because of the investigation and seeing that you spoke with her privately, well I had to ask you directly

Darkness Hang on a minute Are we being…

Holmes🖤​ Yeah He already know I had to tell him

Darkness Have he taken it well?

Holmes🖤​ Right now is not the time 😒​ ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    I let out a small laugh. I'm sure he doesn’t like it that I know everything. Well, he's going to have to put up with it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holmes🖤 Please tell me everything you know about Avali ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I tell him what we were talking about, that I wanted to know more about the legend and that it was all because of a friend, at first I didn't believe it because it's a pretty common phrase when you don't want anyone to know it's you and you're embarrassed to admit it. People often hide things just so that others don't look at you strangely.      But knowing this now, it means that Amy and Hannah must have a connection just like she said. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness So, Amy and Hannah knew each other?

Holmes🖤 Darkness, don't make me call you by your full name

Darkness Sorry, I guess I'm kind of curious about this case now Amy entered the forum looking for answers for Hannah… But she’s the one who ended up dead Don’t you think it’s something interesting?

Holmes🖤 Interesting or not, it sounds like you're having fun with this conversation

Darkness Because I feel proud to be part of your help Although there is not much to tell

Holmes🖤 Or you may now have problems knowing that you spoke to a victim

Darkness Don't worry, I have you as an alibi at least

Holmes🖤 At least if we knew the moment of her death...

Darkness Why don't I stop by your apartment as soon as my shift is over? We will talk about it much better alone If you know what I mean

Holmes🖤 I know 😅

Darkness Perfect See you later And goodbye Jake, a pleasure to be spied on by you

Holmes🖤 Don't make him more angry than he already is...

Darkness Is he really angry? Or is he jealous?

Holmes🖤 You're right, we'd better talk about it at home

-----Holmes🖤 has disconnected----- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Knowing her, I know that she is not going to wait for me with a tray of cupcakes and a smile, I will have to be careful that she doesn’t murder me or another forensic will take my place.

    I get to her apartment and when she opens the door, she stares at me, crossing her arms and frowning.

   “I'm sorry,” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. She angry is quite scary and she has rarely been. It's like a strange phenomenon that might happen once every year.

    She steps to the side and shakes her head, inviting me in. I accept and left the jacket on the coat rack and the shoes on the small cabinet. Next, I approach her, slowly caressing her cheek, trying to calm her.

   “Has he scolded you too much?” I ask worried.

   "Let's say that... For him I have broken the trust we had," she sighs and takes my hand, taking me to the living room.

    We sit on the sofa, she raises her legs, sitting in lotus. I go up one, getting comfortable.

   "You shouldn't let that guy manipulate you with his words." I caress the back of his hand and he looks at me hurt. “You haven't broken any trust, you've only told me and no one else.”

   "Well, that's why," I notice how her voice sounds broken, as if she had a hard time speaking. “I had to explain to him that I had to tell you because I didn't want to seem like I was talking to someone else—”

   “Technically, you were doing it,” I arch an eyebrow and she pouts.

   "You know what I mean," I let out a small laugh and finally lean on the headboard of the sofa, placing my hand on my face for support. “I have told him that we have known each other since we were children and that you are the only one I trust the most to keep my secrets, because you always have,” a smile appears this time on his face. I know she is trying hard not to worry me. She's had a rough morning.

   “But I couldn't be with you when what happened with your friend” I look away, annoyed with myself.

     I couldn't come because I was working, I think it's the first time in my entire life that I've failed her and I feel like shit.      She places her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her. I look better at her eyes, they are red from crying.      She approaches my face, kissing me. At first I avoid answering it because I feel like I don't deserve it, but in the end I fall.      Surely she does it to forget it. Forget what has happened. I run my hand under her blouse and listen to her sigh as she notices the cold touch of the rings. I smile knowing that I'm the only one who knows everything she likes.

    Her phone rings and we stop. I understand, after what happened, it is normal for her to be nervous.

   "That's strange, I don't recognize the number..." she says without yet leaving me.

   “The kidnapper?”

   "No, he doesn't usually call that" she runs her tongue over her lips and answers.

     I can hear because of the proximity. The call is from Maydol prison. I frown without understanding, who is calling her from prison?      And it is then… that I hear Phil’s voice for the first time.      I lean back, making a sound of annoyance. I hope this doesn’t get her into any more trouble.

     I listen to her talking to him, walking around the room, worried. I stare at her, speaking with complete professionalism. She's not for jokes.      When she hangs up, she leaves her phone on the table and falls onto the couch, resting her head on my lap, putting her hands to her face, tired. I begin to caress her hair, careful not to let my rings get tangled in any strands.

   "When all this is over, can we go on vacation, please?" She says through her hands.

   “Mmm… There is a church in the Czech Republic that you would love to see,” I see how she slowly opens her fingers, blinking with curiosity, “it has some really ghostly sculptures.”

   “It would be nice, at least just to go on a trip to another place and rest from all this” she lowers her hands and plays with my pendant. “Sorry for Phil called me...”

    “Why do you apologize? You're helping him too, right?” I take her hand and kiss her fingers. “And there is no one better than you in the world to do it.”

    We intertwine our fingers and she nods, sighing.

     Her phone rings again.      She heavily gets up to pick it up and sits down next to me again, showing me that it’s Jake. She rests her head on my shoulder as she talks to him about the new news Phil has given her.      Despite looking tired, she tries to solve this case.      I kiss her head and she looks at me.

   “Why that?” She asks with a laugh.

   “I felt like doing it, Holmes.”

     She smiles and snuggles again.

   "I'm lucky you're with me." Her voice sounds truly happy this time and much better than before. “With you by my side, things feel lighter, like I don't have to worry about anything.”

    I run my thumb over her lips and she looks at me.

   "And that's my job," I carefully caress her cheek and smile, "to make sure you don't have to worry about anything."

   “You don’t know how much I love you…”

   "And you don't know that I would give my life for you, so don't put yourself in danger for this, okay?" 

   “Hey, no blackmail of that kind.”

   "It's the only way you won't do it."

     She shrugs, accepting that it’s true. If I don’t remind her of things, I’m sure she would do something crazy.      She pulls me to her and kisses me. I notice her smile across her lips.

   "Weren't you talking to Jake?" I whisper, breaking the kiss.

   "He can surely wait twenty more minutes."

     I take her phone, leaving it on the table. Then I place my hand on her waist and lay her down on the couch, holding her wrists above her head.

   "Make it an hour, now you need to relax Holmes."

[duskwoodanne]

Jake: All in all, a 100% successful trip. Lilly: But we lost Phil. Jake: All in all, a 200% successful trip!

[duskwoodanne]

Getaway Car

Part 1

Paring: Jake x MC

Overview: It takes a theif to catch a theif. So to catch a hacker, you have to become one.

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Warning: Contains spoilers. Features a rather harsh side of Jake.

Do comment!

Enjoy!

✧✧✧

I messed up.

The birds outside my window are laughing at me. Or maybe it's my own insanity that is personifying the innocent birds. Or maybe the insane laugh comes from my mouth.

After a few heartbeats, I realise it's the sound that is coming from my computer. The guy who hacked my device has put the laughing sound on repeat and I have no choice but to listen. I could simply throw out the computer but somehow I managed to track the guy’s location. He could easily undo it but the fact that he didn't tells me that he wants me to know how far away he is.

I stare at the message he last sent me.

I searched for you for a long time. I’m coming to get you. Dress nice for me, okay?

At the mention of dress, I look at my clothes. A black hoodie with jeans. I haven't changed them in a week. My hair haven’t touched water for two weeks. Maybe I could use a shower before he comes.

At this moment, I cannot help but to hate Jake. He was the motivation for me to enter such a dark world of hacking. Initially, I though he was afraid of being close to me, afraid of there existing a us. But the closer I try to get to him, the more I understand that he doesn't want to be found. He betrayed me, eventually I realised that.

If the FBI couldn’t find Jake. There was no light for me either. But I had hope. Earlier, hope was light for me- the sort of bright light that makes you thank God for giving you vision but now I deeply wish he hadn't. Because now, hope for me carries nothing but darkness. But in the that light, I learned the basics and talked to a lot people which has now proven to be the worst mistake I made.

It appears that Jake not only had enimies in the society but also on the dark Web. People are after him everywhere. The reason is still unknown to me. And it shall remain unknown since the guy who is after Jake is now coming to get me since I foolishly gave the hint of having a connection with Jake.

Maybe if I dress nice– like he asked– he will show a little leniency.

I take a last glance at his location. He is now standing near the convenience store. Maybe buying something. In twenty to twenty five minutes, he will be here. Enough time for me to bathe.

I force myself to stand and take some clean clothes out of my closet. I enter the bathroom and sit under the cold shower.

Maybe he thinks that if he gets a hold of me, he’ll get nearer to finding Jake— or Nymos, the name he recognises as Jake. I still have no clue why Jake would be in such tremendous amount of danger and trouble. I wonder if he even gets time to breathe with all these men after him. But again, he did get a considerable time to talk to me and work on Hannah’s case. That means, he could have known. He must have known what I was doing.

He is quite the celebrity on the dark Web in all wrong ways but at least that tells that he is brilliant at his work. He definitely knows I was searching for him. He must be relieved knowing he’ll get rid of me soon.

I considered running away. But where? For how long? For whom?

I am done.

I turn off the stream of water. I try to see my reflection in the mirror but it is too dirty to reflect anything. I give up and change into cleaner clothes. As my hand hovers over the knob of the door, I hear something.

My eyes widen in horror. I still had time but it seems that he is already here. He will search in every corner of the room but in vain then he would open the door of the bathroom. I swallow nothing as a terrible idea occurs in my mind.

Instead of waiting for him to open the door, I open it myself. I wanted to use time for showering but now that he is already here I do not intent to waste anymore time.

As I slide the door open, I close my eyes. Maybe he is already pointing a gun at me. Even a knife will do. I expect to hear something. A sarcastic remark at my bravery of showing myself.

But instead, all I hear is silence.

I dare not to open my eyes. Then, I hear footsteps. The sound is low and calm as he takes his time to come at me. My heart stops when he stops in front of me.

Then, my heart beats like crazy when I feel a brush of a hand on my head. It could even be mistaken as a brush of a breeze but I know I left the window locked.

“We do not have enough time to dry your hair since he is exactly three buildings away from our location.” The ridiculousness in the sentence forces my eyes to open. Remember what I said about my heart beating crazily? That was an understatement because now I think my heart can potentially jump out of my skin.

A pair of emarald green eyes stare right back at me. They look so foreign in this bleak room. They actually shine. I am seeing light again? I must be crazy.

Insanity must have really took its control over me because I still take him as the man who was on his way to kill me or hold me captive. In all craziness, I whisper, “I don't know where Jake is.”

The guy in front of me finds the situation funny as he lets out a low pitched chuckle. His head hangs low as he gets over the joke I don't know who cracked. Then he looks at me. “You really have gone crazy, haven't you?” All humour leaves his voice as it turns serious. If I am not mistaken, he has an edge to his tone, maybe disappointment.

A rush of anxiety takes over me. Million questions flood my mind and to all of them only one answer stands: this guy is Jake.

The thought is too ridiculous for me to even think it over again. My grip on the knob of the door tightens as I pull it towards me. I was a few inches away from closing the door when his foot enters between the door and the wall. Soon after his hand pushes the door open.

His other hand grips my wrist as he pulls me out of the bathroom. “I told you, we do not have time.” He drags me to my closet and makes me stand in front of it. “Pack your clothes. The lesser, the better. I will take care of your system.”

I stand there still as he moves to my computer. My hands tremble as the realness of the situation finally settle. The person I had been searching for so long, the person I should be blaming for my corruption, the person who was- until a few minutes ago- so far away from my reach— that person is standing in my room. Jake is standing in my room.

He knew. He kept tabs on me. For all this time, he knew I was searching for him and he knew where I was, still he didn't bother to approach me. My palms feel sweaty as I fist them up. I can hear as he shuts off my system. He must have noticed my inactive state because the sound dies.

“Amelia,” My name from his mouth bitterly echoes in my mind. “Do I need to explain the situation to you to get you moving? What part of ‘pack your clothes’ did you not understand? We have ten minutes, for god’s sake.”

The harsh tone of his words screams to me that he isn't Jake. It is already shocking that Jake can be so cruel and selfish to not even bother to talk to me once. Moreover, the person I hear right now is opposite to the person I used to talk. He was never harsh with his words. Even in the most complicated situations, he found a way to remain calm.

I can't help but to let my doubt be heard. “Who are you? You cannot be—”

My words die midway as he turns me around. His grip on my arm burns and at the same time, I think I want that touch. Only after fifteen seconds, I manage to look at him. When I finally do look at him, he says, “I am Jake. And I don't care if you hate me or if I ruined the image of me you had in your mind or heart. Now, snap out of it if you don't want to die.” I stay silent, letting his words form my new reality. But Jake grows impatient. “You know what? We'll have to compromise with your device. I wouldn't let you use them anyway.”

He says and moves away from me. I turn around to see him packing my clothes and a few little things I am incapable of noticing as I stare at him to let him replace the image of Jake I had. Maybe that'll help a little.

“I hate you. You ruined me.” My tone is less accusatory and full of emotion.

Jake faces the closet so I can't see his face. He stops for beat before continuing his work. When he puts something in the bag, he says, “Likewise.”

Emotions overwhelm me. “You hate me? Do you know—”

He stops and lets a Tshirt fall on the pile of the clothes. He looks at me with intensity. “Do you know how much trouble you caused me because of your I-am-gonna-find-Jake mission? Don’t you think you are being selfish by continuously trying to invade my life when I gave clear signs that I don't want you to?”

Words hide somewhere in my heart because there's nothing logical for me to say. All I can say– in a low whisper, is: “You told me you loved me.”

I might be imagining but I notice the change in his posture. The way his eyes become something I willingly want to stare at. And his voice copies my own low tone, “I did. And I want you to get over it. Because I am.”

I am once again left speechless because how am I supposed to tell him that what he is asking me is something impossible. Something I never thought of. Get over him? I wish I could.

The silence breaks but it is neither me nor him.

There's a knock on the door which is followed by: “Did you pick up a nice dress?”

Part 2

------------

Yes, I started a new fic!

This fic is totally different from Evanescent so I'm pretty excited about this!

Dying to know your opinions!

So do comment!

Thanks for reading!

Love y'all

;)

[duskwoodanne]

Jake: Sorry I can’t be emotionally vulnerable with you, it’d ruin the mystery.

[duskwoodanne]

Lilly: Why does MC always do the laundry so loudly? Jake: So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house. MC, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

[duskwoodanne]

MC: Knock, knock. Jake: Who's there? MC: Boo! Jake: Boo who? MC: Why are you crying? Jake: I'm not crying. MC: Hello notcrying, I'm MC. Jake: Jake: I think we should cut down the time you spend with Dan.

[duskwoodanne]

Reblog if you’re 30 or older

This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!

[duskwoodanne]

Jake: Can we talk about that mass email you sent?

Dan: Why? It was important.

Jake: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit".

MC, shrugging: People need to know.

[duskwoodanne]

MC: Good morni-- What the hell is going on?

Jessy: Bullshit.

Richy: War.

Dan: Hell.

Jake, sipping coffee from a bright yellow bowl, face covered in doodles and hair tied in pigtails: I don't know, I just live here.

[duskwoodanne]

MC: What the hell is wrong with you? Dan: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

[duskwoodanne]

Goodbye first and sweet love

JAKE POV

    I have been having a stressful few weeks. I try to do my final project to be able to raise my grade, I know I do not need it, but if I want them to give me the degree after having obtained the scholarship, I cannot let anyone down.

    Although saying that this work is a bit of a cover for what I am trying to find out. In my work I came to see something strange in security and now I try with the excuse of writing about banned books about serial killers, research in places where no one can get them legally.

     And not only was I am stress about that, knowing it was taking a risk, but there was also my relationship with Katherine. Lately I did not feel the same as I did at the beginning and she always tried to lead the way for both of us, as if my opinion did not matter.      I want to think that it is because she is still affected, she even refused to go to the psychologist when she should have gone. According to her, she is perfectly fine, but... ---------------------------------------------------------

Katherine Who were you with the other night? I was calling you I know I told you I'd be busy on this trip, but being here makes me nervous that you won't talk to me And even more so because I still remember how that girl gave you her number, I'm worried that she'll try to overwhelm you Please call me before you go to sleep Jake? Jacky? Love, come on, answer! I’m getting worried! ---------------------------------------------------------

     I look at her messages. A few minutes before sending them to me, I had told her that I was going out with some friends, the usual ones. But she always wants to know who was there. Right now she is in France, without having to worry about being on the list for ‘The Vigilant’ to hire her in the future. The contacts of her mother and her teacher have caused her to be involved without anyone knowing, is what she told me. And... I felt bad knowing it. She knows how hard I try to study and that her classmates try to win it over, but she told me that it was okay.      Since then, it is like she is become more selfish or maybe it is just that after two years, I see what the real Katherine is like.

    I lean back in my chair, tired. I spoke to her this morning and I had to explain that I was late and tired. Her response? Than having sent a message when I got home. When Al and I got home, I jumped right into my bed. I did not change my clothes until I got up and took a shower.

    My cell phone rings and I answer when I see that the secretary is calling.

   “Hello?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose, tired.

   “Good morning Jake, we have a problem with one of the computers,” says the secretary woman on the other end of the line. “and the computer science teacher told me to contact you because he has a teachers' meeting.”

   “Sure, I am going right now.”

     I say goodbye and put my cell phone away. At least this will clear my mind a little.      I turn off the library computer and get up, grabbing my backpack from the chair.

     When I get to the computer room, I see a blonde girl complaining and typing furiously. If she keeps this up she is going to break it.      I approach her and look over her head. Well... I do not have to stand on tiptoe either because she is shorter than me.

   “Problems with the computer?” I say finally.

     I watch her jump on the spot, like a frightened rabbit. Maybe I should have knocked on the door, but since it was open...      She turns around and looks at me. Is something wrong with her?      Although to tell the truth, her face is familiar to me, but I cannot figure out where, but if she studies here, it must have been in the hallways.      Yes, that has to be the reason, how else can I know her? It is not like I hang out with a lot of girls.

   "It can't be..." she mutters to herself.

   “It cannot be what?” Perhaps it refers to the computer.

    She shakes her head and looks back at me, sighing.

   “Sorry, I was... I just don't know what happened, it was fine a moment ago and now, poof!” I see her eyes, she looks like she is about to cry. She makes me a little sorry, honestly. “Goodbye, computer.”

    I frown, curious about her explanation.

   “Just like that?” I move her carefully. “Sorry,” I murmur now, hoping that she would not take it badly that I moved it away from her.

    I now start typing, trying to put in all the codes I can think of to save it. But they all make errors.

   “Just like that,” I hear her respond, annoyed.

    I then look at the tower. It has a flash drive connected. I recognize it right away. That is the cause of the problem.

   <<It is incredible that it still exists, there is not even one supposed to be left.>>

   “Alright, I know what happened,” I sit up, listening with curiosity to what happened. I stand aside, pointing to the flash drive. “Where did you get the flash drive from?”

   “A third-year student gave it to me,” Well, I am starting to understand it better. “He told me that the teacher needed me to send her some urgent files and since he was busy, if I could do it.”

    I make a noise in my throat and nod at her detailed information. If it is still in circulation, this can cause problems.

   "Well, I have two news for you: One good and one bad. Which one do you want to hear first?" I try to appear as calm as possible, although I admit that I have been nervous for a while, trying to figure out where I could see her. I hope she do not notice, I do not want to seem weird or a stalker.

   "The bad one," she lowers his voice, almost as if with fear, " perhaps the good one will relieve me later."

    Her tone makes me laugh. It is true that good news after bad news is better than nothing.

   " The bad thing is that they have played the joke that is played on first years—"

   "I'm a first year...”

   <<Well, I feel so sorry for her then that she fell for this joke after a long time.>>

    I scratch the back of my neck, uncomfortable with the situation now.

   “Oh… Well, officially welcome to the university.”

   “Thank you…” She tilts her head and it makes me think of a little puppy when I see her expression.

   <<Jake, please, she is a human, do not compare her to a puppy...>>

    I say to myself at that thought. I avoid getting nervous with this comparison.

   “Although it was supposed to be already prohibited since it can generate a high cost in repairing these computers,” I try to keep as neutral a face as possible. The way she is looking at me now, it is like she is reading my expression.

   “Oh yeah?”

   “Each class had a flash drive like these to scare the first years, they gave it to the second years to continue the tradition,” I lean on the table, trying to settle in and create a less tense atmosphere while I explain it. “But seeing that each time the “virus” was much more dangerous, they banned it.”

    And it is true, some even tried to sneak it in to their teachers, some almost missed important exams they had on their computers. I avoid commenting on it, surely a girl like her does not want to know so many details of what happened. Plus she seems like someone who hangs out with classier people.

   <<Look what happens when you date Katherine, you judge people like her in the end... Maybe I am wrong about this girl...>>

    I see her relax a little, nodding.

   “Okay, and the good news?”

    I smile and turn the backpack around, taking out a flash drive from one of the pockets that can fix it.

   “I am the one they call when this happens,” I say, proud of my abilities.

    I cannot help it, I like being helpful.

   " Or maybe you're the one who made these flash drives that make computers explode," I notice a tone of distrust. I do not blame her after what happened.

   “No, it is not my style, I prefer to be more stealthy,” I answer while I turn the flash drive over.

     She laughs and I am surprised. I do not know why I do it, it is normal to hear someone laugh and the truth is that my joke was terrible, referring to when I entered. But it is true that I am very careful when working with computers so as not to be detected.      I try to calm down after hearing her laughter and start working on the computer.      I see that she sits at the table and covers herself with her skirt. Would not she be more comfortable in the chair? I shake my head. Sometimes I will not understand girls and the way they behave. She will not last long sitting at the table.

    I am trying to fix the mess they have made, I do not know where they got this improved version from, but it is driving me crazy and it is taking longer than I expected.

   “You do not need to wait, you can go,” I comment after noticing that she has not gotten off the table yet.

    “What?” her look is confused.

    I smile when I see her expression. She is funny.

    "You can leave if you want, it is just fixing it." I repeat again.

   "I won't stay calm until I see it fixed."

    I lean on the table, seeing that she seems to doubt my abilities. I raise an eyebrow as if I were letting her know with my expression.

   “It's just that I've gotten nervous and I need to see that it's fixed, and also return the flash drive to that guy and tell him that his joke almost cost me a foot in the grave.”

    I laugh at her exaggerated words. But I get it, believing that it was your fault that the computer broke down can be quite scary and even more so if the computer is not your property.      I return to entering the codes and finally she sits in the chair next to me.      I see her shake her head, like she is uncomfortable. I am sure all this has stressed her out quite a bit.

      “It will be fine, do not worry,” I remain calm for both of us, without taking my eyes off the computer.

    I will not let the poor girl have to suffer because of others. I know what that feels like.

     "It's not..." She pauses, but continues. "Yes, I'm worried, too worried."

     “Well, do not worry, that is why I am here.” I wink at her with confidence in my abilities. There is not a single computer that can resist me in the end.

    I see her rolling your eyes, she still do not trust me? I am supposed to be here to help her, is not this demonstration enough for her?

   “Do you do this thing of fixing the computer of newbies who play pranks?” She settles down at the table, looking at me curiously.

   "No, it is been about two years since I fixed one," I look at her for a moment to answer and continue with the work. “I am surprised that flash drives are still in circulation, they are supposed to get rid of them.”

   "Well, someone didn't do it in my career."

   << Will not be…?>>

   “What do you study?” I ask curious if I am right.

   “Journalism.”

   “I understand then,” I take a deep breath, trying not to get angry. “There is a promotion to get a future position in the news 'The Vigilant’, so everyone is wanting to be on the lists.”

   “And how do you know that?” Again, seeing that she makes that gesture of tilting her head I think she is like a small animal. I do not know why I think it is like... Adorable? Better not to think about it... “Do you also study journalism?”

   "No, my..." I bite my lip, thinking what I am doing wrong now talking to this girl. Katherine would surely do anything to interrupt my helping this student, but now that she is not here... And I only start to think that she is easily on the list without making the greatest effort. I am sure this girl does at least try, like the rest of the students. "My girlfriend studies journalism."

   "Oh..." Why did that 'Oh' sound like a disappointment? Maybe because she thought I could help her if we were in the same career? “And you study programming,”

     I do not blame her for thinking that because of my computer skills, but if I studied programming, I would be very bored in classes knowing that I already know everything I need to know to be self-sufficient.      I smile as I shake my head, almost mockingly.

   "If you say it because of how to use the computer, that's because I have known how to use it since I was a kid."

   <<Maybe I do have a bit of ego about my confidence in my abilities…>>

   Likewise, why do I behave like this now? It is not like she cares what I study or not.

     I continue trying to fix the computer. From time to time it gives me small errors when I put the codes that I have previously put in the past to fix it. Who will have improved this? He must have paid someone from the IT major for this.      I glance at the girl from time to time, hoping she does not get bored. But I do not know what to talk about, I do not know her enough to, I do not know... Talk about Star Wars? Maybe not… Will she like old movies? No, it looks more like she probably likes 'Twilight' or something like that.      I look at the computer, trying to get these thoughts out of my head. I am sure she will find me boring for not talking to her.

    I hear her cell phone and seconds later, a laugh.

   “It seems like you are better,” I comment when I see that she is more relaxed.

   “Oh, my boyfriend just sent me a message,” Her tone of voice is happy, I almost envy her a little. “We barely get to see each other because he lives a couple of hours away from the city, so it's nice when he remembers me for little things.”

   “Oh, a long-distance relationship?” I notice how my voice has changed tone. Shit... I remembered how bad I was having it with Katherine and how jealous she was. I should not involve her in this but the topic has come up.

   “Yes, is there something wrong?”

     I sigh and continue with the work.

   “Well, I do not think those kinds of relationships work.”

     At least, not for the two of us. If Katherine does not trust me, I feel like I have failed. I do not know what I have done wrong to make her think I am going to go with the first girl I meet. I have always been aware of her and everything she needed. Unfortunately, it was only one-way.      And with each passing day, I feel like I see her more as a friend. It is as if all the love he had felt for her had disappeared.

   "Sorry, but a long-distance relationship is very romantic. Then the reunion is magical. "

    Well, I do not deny that, although she has not returned yet. But if that person distrusts everything around you as if you were going to fail them, how do they think I feel then?

   “Until one of the people in the couple doubts you or is constantly wanting to know who you are with,” My voice comes out even more annoying. I should not continue talking about this topic.

   “Have you already been through that?”

    I glance at her, not angry, but tired.

   “You really like to talk,” I hope that with this she understands that the topic makes me a little uncomfortable, I do not know her and I have not even talked to Al about this, I do not want him to bother with my concerns.

   "If you want, I'll start talking to the chair," I smile at her proposal. At least that would seem funnier to watch and it would relax me a little "You're the only one in this room I can talk to."

    I then manage to find the correct code and the computer turns off to restart.

   “What are you doing?!” She screams with a rooster in her throat.

     I look at her and point to the screen, while making a silence sign so that she is calm.      As soon as she sees that the computer has restarted, she calms down with a sigh.

   “You could have warned me,” She hits me on the arm, angry.

   “It was more fun to see your reaction,” I smile proudly, and I see her blush with embarrassment at her reaction. Those who do not know about computers always surprise me, although she has been funnier than others because of all her expressions and her way of speaking. “And yes.” I finally say to her question.

   “Yes what?”

   "Yes, I have been through that," I shrug my shoulders, indifferent "or well... I am going through it."

    She bites her lip, as if my response had made her uncomfortable. She is the one who asked, she wanted to know what was happening. I am just trying to have a conversation with her so she does not get bored with me.

   “Then she is not the right person if she doubts you,” she looks into my eyes, seeking empathy.

   "Oh, it is not because she doubts, it is..." I cross my arms as I look at the screen, trying to find a way to explain it. “Let me say it is because of her, she has been through terrible things and I am here to support her in whatever she needs.”

    Maybe I should talk to Katherine instead of thinking about it, try to improve our relationship and bring up the subject of distance to improve it. It is much better than waiting for advice from people who do not know about our relationship.

   "Well, at least it's confirmed that you're trustworthy." I look at her confused by her words, what is he talking about? “Your girlfriend can rest assured that you have not cheated on her.”

   "Wait, all this time you thought I was trying to hit on you?" Do I really give that image? Does anyone really look at me and think I am going to go harass a girl?

     She laughs at my question: What do she see as funny? She is the one who has had a bad image of me... Although I have also judged her at first, but at least I have not told her out of politeness.

   "I do not know what kind of men you have encountered, but you have offended me, I have only come to fix the computer." I continue typing, a little more annoyed. I did not think someone would actually say something like that to me...

   "Believe me, you've left me with a good impression, Mr. Computer technician."

     I look at her surreptitiously, her smile is sincere, it is not like she is really messing with me.      I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks knowing that I have left her with a good impression, which means she does not see me like the other guys who must have bothered her.      I wish I had the sweatshirt now to cover my face, at least I would not look like that.

     I finish writing and the computer restarts. I breathe a sigh of relief and look at her. She is biting her nails.      I get worried when I see her like this, this has truly affected her quite a bit...

   “You are going to get hurt,” I say and lowers her hand slowly, looking away a little. I smile a little and nod my head. “Look, I already fix it.”

     The computer turns on normally again. All files appear on the screen again as if it had not been infected. Luckily it was not a virus that deleted everything important, the three of us would have had problems if those files had not come back.

   "I admit it, you're good," she says after a sigh, coming a little closer to me, to see the computer.

    I stare at her, her curious expression has made my heart skip a little. Or maybe it is the smell of her shampoo? I swallow hard as I have her closer than necessary. What is happen to me with this girl?

   “If I have a problem with my computer, can I call you?” I stay looking at her. Her smile makes my heart race. No. This is not right “Are you okay?”

   “Yes, I am fine,” I get up from the chair quickly. It is like something is attracting me, but I do not know what it is. No, I do not understand.

    I try to keep my distance from her, taking the flash drive out of the tower and extending my hand towards her to hand it to her.

    “Here, try not to get into a fight with the boy.” I warn her knowing the strict rules of the university. She could get in trouble for this.

   “Oh, don't worry, I'm just going to hide his body in the next lake I find,” I laugh at her joke.

She goes to grab the flash drive, but I move my hand away.

    “Do not be too hard on him,” I try to stay serious now, but I cannot help but continue with the joke. ''You do not need to make an adult cry.''

   “I like to be hard sometimes,” She smiles at me with some malice and I let out a laugh. The way she say it makes me partly nervous.

    I extend my hand without taking my eyes off her. I am still thinking what her face sounds like to me.      I think… I think it was a long time ago…      It is like something hits me and my mind sees her with a different hair color. Black. Yes, that was the color. That is why I did not recognize her. But...was not she a teenager? What is she doing at university?

   <<People grow up Jake, the years go by, or are you stupid? Two years have passed, what did you expect?>>

     I then feel uncomfortable when I inadvertently, distractedly realizing who it is, brush against his hand.      It is a simple touch, but I get nervous, like it is nice.

     No.      This is not good.

    I grab my things while she is distracted looking at the flash drive and leave class, trying to calm down.      I walk into the nearest bathroom and splash cold water on my face, trying to calm down. I feel bad, nauseous. I should not have found her here. I do not want her to think badly of me.      That is why she said it could not be... She recognized me... It is better to keep  distance, I do not want there to be confusion and on top of that I have confided private things to her. 

   <<Blonde hair suits her better...>>

     I shake my head, no longer having these thoughts.      My cell phone rings and I see that Katherine is calling me.      I smile, relieved that she called me. It did not take me long to answer her call.

   “Hello Katherine,” I respond, but I can tell I am short of breath.

   “Hello?” more than a greeting, it seems like a question “Are you okay? What happens?”

   “I was helping a girl with the computer,” I say completely sincerely. I have never hidden anything from Katherine... Except the matter of my half-sisters.

    “A girl? And that’s why it sounds like you’ve done “exercise”?” I notice a little anger in her voice.

   “I had to run because of another emergency,” partly real and partly hiding the truth from her. I also do not want to argue on the phone now.

   “Oh, okay,” her cheerful voice returns. “I have to tell you, they called me 'The Vigilant'! I can be a correspondent wherever I want as soon as I finish my last course!”

    A wave of envy runs through my body. Yes. I have a permanent job thanks to my computer skills for a long time, because they found me… But this? Her classmates make an effort, they fight in thousands of ways to want to be on that list. Someone has been left without a spot on that list.

   “And of course, you're going to have to pack your suitcase.”

   “To pack? Why?”

    She lets out a laugh through the phone.

   “Jacky Isn't it obvious?”I make a sound of denial “You're going to come with me, because that's what we talked about, remember?”

     Actually we have not. She is the one who plans everything without me. For some time now my opinion has not counted.      It is like I have a lump in my throat that does not let me speak on my own. Before she was not like that. Things between us have changed. 

    But not. It has always been like this. He has always tried to change me. Even change everything I like. We do not function as a couple, but as friends. That is what I have realized. Our differences have not made us a united couple, quite the opposite. I wonder when I stopped caring about my feelings.

   “We can talk?” I ask a little discouraged. “When you come back, I mean.”

   “Sure, but have your suitcase ready, okay?” I make a nodding sound “Oh my God! Is incredible! I've done it! I have achieved my dream thanks to all my work!”

   <<You have not done it…>>

   “We’ll talk soon, okay? Kisses” she says goodbye, throwing a few kisses.

    She hung up, lowering the phone and squeezing it tightly.

    A first love that has disappointed me. A first love that was selfish with everyone around him and looked down on them as if they were not important. This comes from before all those problems that we encounter in the middle of our lives. I do not think I will ever feel this way about anyone else again.

[duskwoodanne]

An Arsonist’s Anguish

Richy’s Lament - A Duskwood One Shot

A dark, angsty exploration into Richy’s character as he sets the stage for his death. There is no happy ending. Just some hope that another soul made it out of the mine as it burns. Will also be posted on Ao3 later.

Trigger Warnings are below the line. Please check them.

TW: Suicide, Self Hatred, Hallucinations, and thoughts/descriptions of Death. Read at your own risk. I tried not to be too graphic, but you will know what’s happening.

Richy would never see the sun rise again.

The ghosts of all the beautiful things he killed to protect his secrets haunted his dragging, stumbling steps as he traversed the mine and ignored the cameras he installed. Gasoline poured and splashed from the canister he held as he wove through tunnels and gritted his teeth against the pain in his arm.

It was nothing compared to the emotional torture he felt inside. His thoughts were a tempest raging with the violence of a cyclone. Every destructive gust ripped through the fragile edifices of his grip on reality.

Within the labyrinth of his mind, self-loathing chewed on his soul like a pack of feral beasts tearing at the tender flesh of their fallen prey. Each bite drew forth burgundy rivers of desolation, self-condemnation, and unyielding fury. Blending with the physical aches until he couldn’t tell them apart

His arm throbbed as he ignored the yelling in his mind. Fucking Dan. Dan, who gave him a gun?! Oh, what an idiot! He scuppered all Richy’s plans and left him scrambling to end it before anyone else got hurt. Ensure nothing remains but ash.

Rivers of cold sweat streamed down his grey face as he held his injured arm over his stomach so he wouldn’t bang it into the rough wall. He wanted to punch the stone to take his mind off it. The bottle of pain meds he stole from his mother rattled in his pocket, but he couldn’t risk taking them yet.

His breathing roasted his throat, but his entire body shivered as though an icy glacier engulfed him. The persistent tremble in his body intensified with every labored step.

The combined weight of his physical and emotional agony was an anchor on his back, dragging his broken spirit beneath tumultuous waves, where the agony of drowning and being hammered from all sides echoed through the depths of himself.

It didn’t feel like any of it was unfair. The thirst was the worst thing. He kept smacking his lips together, attempting to inspire some moisture, but his tongue remained bone dry and coated in the remnants of bitter blood rust.

The blood he’d lost stained his skin and the stone as it dripped through the filthy dressing he tried and failed to use as a tourniquet. Everything felt like it happened to someone else. Something otherworldly piloted his body from the inside.

Like some demon possessed him, guiding him down depraved, treacherous paths, and the priest hadn’t arrived in time to exorcise him.

And he’d done it to himself. Every choice he’d made since kidnapping Hannah, it had felt like suicide in slow motion.

He marooned himself on an island surrounded by vipers of his own creation.

Now, the only option to set himself free was fire. It would hurt, he thought, and his stomach wrenched to the side, almost splitting in two as he dreaded it so strongly.

And death. There was a liberating freedom in death. A broken sob tore through his clenched teeth as he thought of Jessy, the emotions he harbored for her, and everything he had never deserved to have with her.

She was a shot of adrenaline after years of lethargy.

So many of his favorite memories revolved around her and their silly inside jokes. He’d used his closeness to her to torment and stalk her. Terrorized her and her friends. She would never forgive him. Her smiling face, her flaming hair, and desire for a life of adventure had made his miserable existence worth living.

She would forget him one day, but never forgive him. He was a coward. An idiot. He’d let them all believe a masked myth was chasing them.

The only masked freak after them was their own friend.

His megawatt smile, stupid jokes, and constant upbeat attitude despite the shitstorm life rained on him had been the heaviest disguise of his brief life. They’d all bought it.

Hook, line, and fucking sinker. None thought to check beneath that smile. Now, it had twisted and transformed into a permanent snarl. If they paid attention, they would have found the rot and ruin underneath his cheerful demeanor. None of his friends had stopped to think about just how stressed he was. How much he had to carry for his family and Hannah—screw her. She was party to his worst decision.

She caused it.

Her wanting to sacrifice herself, him, and Amy to clear her conscience, betrayal. Betrayal was a dagger Hannah concealed in a cloak of mutual trust and unspoken promises to take their secrets to the grave. That blade had appeared suddenly and without warning, piercing the walls of his shriveled heart.

Half of him wished he’d killed her while he’d had her under his control. End the threat, leave her body to decompose in the mine.

No one came here. He’d made sure of it. Everything might—well, it was too late now. She was safe in the hands of Alan Bloomgate. Hannah, perfect, beautiful fucking Hannah.

He hated her. He blamed Hannah. But it was Amy who he blamed the most. Richy blamed everyone but himself for too long. He knew that. And now he would pay the price for it.

He’d already staged his death. Now he just had to commit.

The cloying scent of gasoline infiltrated his nose, thickening in his raw throat, and the empty metal cannister fell from his weak fingers. The thunderous clanging as it bounced and came to a stop worsened the headache he’d had for the last few weeks.

It pounded in time with his thudding heart. Each pulse pushed yet more blood out of the wound in his heavy, aching arm. It tingled and sparked with fiery pain with every paranoid twitch as he glanced behind him, sure he heard footsteps chasing him down.

He gave himself a shake when only his shadow approached. It looked much bigger to him now. Sinister and spreading to encompass the entirety of him.

It had taken him over long ago, and at last, he accepted it. It was too late to beat it back. He’d embraced it. Its hug was gelid and dragged him down, down, down. The shadow had always been in him; his choices had brought it to life, and it was time to eliminate it so it wouldn’t harm anyone else.

If his last victim was to be himself, it would end on his terms.

His last words had been a confession and an apology. To Jessy, and his friends, to the unwitting stranger he’d dragged into this mess, and to himself. His conscience was far from clear, and his reckoning awaited him amongst the flames he would soon ignite.

The cave in which he’d chosen as his tomb would remain safe from the flames, but the poison smoke would choke him. An intangible noose, as he couldn’t bring himself to tie a rope. He shuffled inside and loosed a long breath that felt more like a death rattle.

His stinging eyes couldn’t penetrate the blackness encroaching him on all sides as he reached into his jacket pocket with his good hand, and pulled out the zippo lighter he’d stuffed inside days before. He’d always suspected.

Deep inside, Richy had expected that this was how it ended. The cold silver metal warmed a little in his clammy hand as his thumb stroked over the Garage’s logo and wished he had said goodbye to his parents before he gave himself to the fire.

It was best they learned with the world. His suicide letter would speak for him and he prayed it would ensure his family didn’t suffer for his actions.

Naïveté had always been his downfall.

Before he set his ultimate act into motion, Richy took his phone out of his jean pocket and flicked the flashlight on. The bright beam of white light assaulted his eyes and created a flurry of moving shadows. The skittering of tiny claws on loose stone racing away from him painted a cruel smirk on his mouth as he cast the light around the small cavern and found what he was looking for.

A grubby black backpack sat against the grey rock wall, covered in dirt, blood, and guilt as he scuttled over to it. He unzipped it and pulled out the almost empty bottle of water he’d been rationing for days.

After fishing the bottle of medication out of his pocket, he struggled to open them both, and cried out as his jerky movements irritated his wounded arm. It took five very long minutes to get the pills out. The light from his phone shuddered as he set it down to count the pills.

He’d chosen the strongest ones his mother had. One knocked her out for half a day, and he wanted to numb himself as much as he could before the smoke smothered or flames devoured him. They were heavy on his tongue as he tossed back a fistful of the chalky tablets and chased them down with the last of his precious water.

For a moment, they got lodged in his throat, his mouth flooded with saliva and his eyes prickled with fresh tears.

He couldn’t even kill himself right. Everything he did just failed in spectacular fashion.

He was a monster of his own making, and only he could slay it. He swallowed, compulsive and dry, ignoring the hot flashes creeping up his neck as the painkillers scraped down his throat and into his hollow stomach.

Richy dropped to his knees and crawled over to the wall, and slumped back onto it. Paper crinkled in his inside coat pocket as he shifted to get comfortable. He had about an hour before the full effects of the medication set in. He would light the fire once the gnawing, eroding ache in his chest and arm dulled.

Until then, he sat with his thoughts, his splintering sanity, and cursed himself. Cursed Duskwood and the predator the town had forced him to transfigure himself into.

The weight of hopelessness hung around Richy’s neck like a noose pulled tight, squeezing the light of life from his eyes.

It was a suffocating darkness that swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but the biting tang of despair on his tongue. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of broken glass, cutting deeper with every huffing exhale.

The silence that echoed in his soul was a relentless scream, a haunting, deafening reminder of the emptiness that consumed him.

“I should’ve told someone,” Richy said in a whisper.

The words bounced softly off the rock, a harmony of regret.

He twitched as it fell silent, mouth furling and eyes glazing over as he listened to the racket in his head.

All you had to do was hand yourself in. You could have avoided all of this.

What do you think will happen to your family? They’ll live happily ever after in the town you terrorized?

Do you honestly think your pathetic letter will save them?

The slippery voice of his own darkness broke into a baleful laugh. It made the hair in his nape rise and stand stiff. He shuddered, thrashing his head and gritting his teeth until they squeaked.

“I tried. I always tried. But I’m a failure. I’ve always been a failure. I can make it right. It’s the only way.” He muttered as the disembodied voice agreed.

Make it right? Ha! You think you can wash away the stain of your idiocy?

You’re tainted.

Forever marked by your wrong choices, Richy.

Redemption? You make me laugh.

Redemption is a fairytale, a delusion you’re desperately clinging to.

It is so far beyond your reach…

Richy’s voice was a growl as he said, “No, redemption isn’t my goal. I can’t undo the damage I’ve caused, but I can end it before anyone else gets hurt. I can make sure the world knows it was me.”

The derisive laughter of his demons chafed at his skull as if their talons were scratching their unspeakable names into the bone.

You’re a lost cause. A testament to all your failures.

Each step you take is a step closer to the abyss of self condemnation.

There’s no way out.

Your sacrifice won’t save your soul.

“I accept that!” Richy roared, spittle flying from his chapped lips as he panted like a wounded beast.

“My death might be the only way to atone for all I’ve done. I don’t care what comes after that. But my family won’t suffer because of me. Not any more.”

The voice in his head made a sound of agreement before it crooned his worst fears.

Yes, your death is the ultimate penance.

Your final act of contrition for the havoc you’ve so selfishly wrought.

Then again, have you considered the aftermath?

Your family will endure your actions. Long after you’re gone. Their suffering will echo until they, too, shuffle off the mortal coil.

Searing fiery agony ripped through Richy’s heart. It felt as though someone had taken a knife, heated it up over a fire until it glowed red hot, and then plunged it into his chest. The scent of burned flesh and molten iron filled his nose. The sensation felt so real to him.

His hand clawed at his jacket over his pounding heart, as if to pull the blade free, but his fingers met only dirty fabric.

“They won’t! They won’t! They won’t! I’ve made sure of it. This isn’t their burden to bear!” He yelled, voice laced with an anguish that made his body convulse as rivulets of salt descended his bared teeth.

Helplessness stole over him as his demons taunted and chuckled in a scornful manner.

You should have thought about that before you started donning the guise of an ancient legend.

Idiot.

Weak.

Pathetic!

Your existence is a festering wound that poisons all in your vicinity.

Embrace the fire.

Let it cleanse all the filth you’ve spread.

But just know, your family will bear the scars of your choices, as they’re carved into their souls for eternity.

Richy sobbed through the agonising sensation weaving through his internal organs. He felt as though someone was weaving his internal organs together with a blunt needle, and they had deliberately coated the thread in salt to prolong his suffering. The increasing pressure in his head demanded an outlet as well.

Everything ached, it bled, and it tore him apart. He was so tired. So tired of trying.

This mine, this town, and all it had demanded of him, he was done with it all. He wanted it to burn. His desire was for them all to suffer, just as he had for a decade. He hadn’t dug just one grave that night. No, there had been one accident and four graves waiting for them. They’d just seen theirs too late.

The forest had never forgotten them, though. It had been patient.

That night with Hannah and Amy, it had never ended. It was a living nightmare he had no way out of. Their deaths had simply waited for them to catch up, and even if Hannah could find it in her to exist after all he’d done, he knew she’d died alongside Jennifer and the rest of them.

Ghosts. That’s what they were. He saw it now. There was no point in trying to hold it off anymore.

It was as if the pressure in his head imploded with that thought.

He wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings as his mind fragmented and warped, and his tenuous hold on reality slipped from his grasp.

The cave dissolved in his vision. Something at the very core of himself disintegrated with it.

He was somewhere else. Somewhere he had long tried to forget.

It was ten years ago.

Amy was there. As was Hannah.

He held a muddied shovel. The surrounding forest smelled like home, but his blood had turned cold. Jennifer’s lifeless body lay broken and bloodied, the remnants of shock still painted across her lovely features.

Her hair lay in a sanguine halo around her head as Richy set down the shovel, and silently, the trio worked to lift the woman.

Hannah’s sobs blended with his labored breathing, sweat drip, drip, dripped down his sore neck. He’d wanted to report it to the police. Tried to convince them to do so anonymously. But Hannah, in her fright, had convinced him they’d be signing their death warrants.

His family would suffer. It was he who gave her the keys to a client’s car. It was due to be scrapped, yes, but that didn’t make it better. Everyone would boycott his dad’s Garage and now that mom was growing worse, the sickness in her invading her mind, he knew they needed that income more than ever.

All they could do was hide the body, agree never to speak of this night, and give the greatest performances of their lives to ensure no one ever suspected them once word of Jennifer’s vanishing spread through Duskwood. He felt like something inside him was dying.

His throat tightened, mouth flooding with saliva as the urge to vomit overtook his senses. Heat crawled through him as he swallowed a mouthful of acidic bile and looked heavenward as they shuffled to stand at the edge of the crudely dug grave.

The stars overhead mocked them as the foliage and freshly overturned earth disguised the metallic scent of spilled blood and their sour shared guilt.

“Are you sure you can live with this?” He asked as they hesitated to drop Jennifer into the ground.

Amy chewed on her bottom lip, blood staining her teeth she’d bitten so hard, and her leaking eyes wouldn’t settle on anything as she gave a single jerky nod. Richy’s stomach sank, but he turned his gaze to Hannah.

His friend’s grief mottled face would haunt him forever as she said, “What other choice do we have?”

That answer inspired zero confidence, but Richy accepted it as an affirmation, and said, “Okay, on three—1, 2, 3!”

With a slight swing and a wobble, they released their hold on Jennifer and all three screwed their eyes shut as she hit the bottom of the hole with a sickening crunch.

Amy fell to her knees, her shaking hands gripping the loose mud ringing the unmarked grave as she sobbed uncontrollably. Richy could hardly stand to watch her, and was glad when Hannah, who was crying freely herself, hauled her away.

He nodded once as Hannah and Amy embraced, clinging to one another, wordless apologies pouring from them both as Richy retrieved his shovel.

He felt like they were being watched. Paranoia snaked through his mind like a weed he knew would grow out of control. All he could do was start refilling the grave.

The soft sound of metal scooping up damp earth seemed to ring through the forest as he internally shut down. All his emotions, he forced them aside. He locked them in a cage made of lead and lined with explosives. Life would never be the same.

Life would be a method actors dream after this. He knew this would change them at a molecular level and none of them could breathe a word of it once they left this cursed forest.

Richy took the last deep breath he’d ever experience and watched expressionlessly as the earth rained down on Jennifer. The pattering noise reminded him of rain, of tears. Amy cried harder while he diligently worked to cover up their mistakes.

Hannah watched, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Wetness trickled down his cheeks as he slowly returned to the present.

Hannah’s face floated across his vision as the scene fully dissipated, and he found himself back in the cave. Stale air replaced the aroma of the night dark forest, and a thin haze hung over his eyes as a euphoric rush raced through his bloodstream.

He felt as if he was floating and drowning in a sea of deliriousness.

The medication had kicked in. His legs were leaden as his head lolled on his neck as if on a swivel, and there was an odd sensation in his nose, like the smell of a roaring fire, but none had been lit. The bullet wound in his arm still griped. Infection had set in, he thought.

Only death would cure it. The meds would ease his passing.

A synthetic fatigue draped him like a cloak as he blinked blearily at the dancing shadows creeping nearer. His mouth turned so dry his tongue curdled in his mouth, and his breathing grew shallower as the painkillers burned through the aches in his body. Not long now, his mosaic mind kept jumping between the past and present, footsteps and disembodied voices whispered so close and real that he answered one.

“I should have turned myself in, I know.”

“At least we agree on something. ”

A female said. His suddenly too heavy head swung around to find the source, his sluggish heart raced faster and faster as the voice sounded like Jessy’s.

“Jess? Remember the fish? The names I made up? If I could—No—I’m so fucking sorry...” He said. He spoke with a voice threaded with deepest despondency.

“The fish were just another lie. All of it was. Your life ended the night Jennifer did. Was any of it real after that? Anything you said, did you mean any of it?”

His shrunken heart broke irrevocably, the agony radiated through his chest, and filled him with a coldness that would soon embrace all of him.

“I didn’t mean—please—I’m ready to pay for it. No one else will hurt because of me.” He swore vehemently.

Jessy’s spectral laugh, derisive and humorless, taunted him.

“We will hurt. It won’t go away. Your actions caused wounds that will scar us forever. Death is your relief. Living with what you did to us is our grief. Goodbye, Richy.”

Richy cried silently as her voice faded and the full effects of the painkillers turned his bones to jelly. He had to light the fire before he passed out. A coffin was his only way out of this cursed place.

Bracing a hand on the knobby wall, he gradually rose to his feet as rock crumbled under his fingers, and rained to the dusty ground, sweat on his palm mixed with the dirt as he tottered toward the entrance. He thumbed the Zippo open as he panted, jaw clenched and eyes stinging with slaking tears.

Petrol permeated the air. He breathed it in as he flicked the lighter and swayed on weak knees as the tiny flame ignited. In the dim, damp recesses of the mine, shadows waltzed like specters as Richy, face obscured by the glow of the lighter and shadow, dropped the flame with a snap of his wrist into the pool of gasoline.

Flame surged away from him, hissing along in a serpentine trail until it morphed into a living beast starved and hungry for destruction. He stumbled back. The heat was a physical blow as it sucked out the oxygen, and he trembled like a newborn fawn as he dropped to his knees and stared and stared and stared.

Amidst the cavernous depths of the mine, the candescent light of the furious fire cast a macabre ballet of shadows upon the rough-hewn walls, a surreal tableau of light and darkness. Tendrils of flame licked and lapped at the stone, awakening ember-tinged echoes that wavered and flashed like phantoms in the subterranean gloom.

Billowing smoke, an ash ridden shroud, coiled sinuously through the labyrinthine passages. The evidence he had doused in gasoline would soon catch fire. Relief glittered through him at the thought. An acrid perfume of burning wood and charred earth mingled with the metallic scent of ancient minerals, an otherworldly aroma that lingered in his lungs and clung to all his senses.

There was no going back now. Every breath was slower than the last. It felt like he was inhaling lava as the heat singed the soft tissue and hair in his nose.

His weighty eyelids sat at half mast. The tunnel walls seemed to exhale, releasing murmurs of long buried secrets, as if the very mine itself sought to voice its resignation to the all-consuming blaze. Mirroring his own easing turmoil as he shut down the instinct to flee and welcomed the darkness speckling the edges of his vision.

His lungs were burning as he struggled for air, and it felt like there was a boulder sitting on his chest, keeping them from inflating and grinding his bones down.

The feeling went out of his legs as his hands turned to claws and raked down his neck, leaving scarlet trails of pain scoring his constricting throat.

His world flipped sideways as he collapsed and his head cracked off the rubble strewn ground, but he no longer felt any pain. The roar of the fire, the slowing beat of his heart, and the stones poking into his tear-streaked face were all he knew.

As Richy’s weary eyes teetered on the edge of closure for the last time, a bizarre scene unfolded within the tumult of his fading consciousness.

The nerves in his hands spasmed and his fingers twitched, filthy nails scratching at the dirt to distract himself as he resisted the urge to fight for his life.

No, it had to end like this. If Hell was real, it was best he got used to it.

Freezing panic blasted through him like a blizzard as his blurred eyes caught sight of something that didn’t belong.

Through the shimmering haze of smoke and heat, a figure emerged from a tunnel he hadn’t thought to include in his fiery last act. His heart tried to beat faster as fear spread its icy fingers through his body. The person appeared cloaked in a shivering orange glow and erratic shadows.

Masked and foreboding, the phantom figure raced away without noticing Richy. And lost in the fractured fabric of his perception, Richy could not see who or what it was. If it was a real person, they might’ve tried to drag him out. This would all be for naught. For once, his horrendous luck benefited him.

As it was, the panicked footsteps bolted away from him, barely heard over the howling fire, and vanished into the tumult of smoke.

He hoped they made it out. It hadn’t occurred to him he might take another’s life with him. Just another mistake. Another tally on his list of sins committed. His choices lay before him like an intricately woven tapestry, each thread a testament to the wrong turns and paths he tread, yielding a disturbing, wretched pattern he wished he could unravel and weave anew.

His trembling gaze soon faltered as the slithering smoke filled his lungs, gasping for air that no longer existed as he spluttered and coughed. With every shallow inhale, the world blurred and distorted. Black spots burst like maleficent fireworks in his eyes, shutting down his fleeting thoughts of crawling to safety.

A cacophony of wheezes and whines slipping from his open mouth faded into a distant echo, as his eyelids, heavy with surrender, fluttered closed. He gave himself over to the exhaustion eating him alive from the inside.

The world outside ceased to matter as an alleviating darkness enveloped his mind. His tiny exhales were little more than puffs of air. A whispered farewell to all those he was leaving behind.

Richy had fallen quiet, but the fire raged on, growing stronger as it feasted on wood, and hastily packed boxes, and the papers inside them. His legacy of ash and blood.

In the letter he left for his parents, he had assumed all guilt and taken the lion's share of the responsibility for Jennifer’s death, and his actions after. Hannah, he thought she had suffered enough, and whatever punishment she received, he didn’t want it to ruin her more. Death was his toll to pay, his lethal reputation would exist long after him and pay for the rest of it. He only hoped his parents could move on from this.

They wouldn’t see him again, not until the funeral. It was over. The corrosive effects of his choices had eaten away at everything good in him.

There was nothing left to salvage from his wreckage.

He tried. And he failed. This time, he finally succeeded in something. The complete demolition of him. A tear slipped through his lashes, warm and soft as it fell to the mucky ground.

It was the last. No more fell.

Death came quietly for him, as silent as a falling leaf drifting into a pile of its fallen friends. His chest stuttered as tentacles of smoke wreathed around him like funeral wrappings, falling as still as the rock he lay atop.

Death finally slayed Richy Rogers’ demons, and no one heard their screams.

——————

I have never been so nervous about something I’ve written. I hope that you—I can’t say enjoyed 🙈 but I hope your time wasn’t wasted. Thank you for reading, if you made it this far.

This is in no way meant to glamorise mental illness or anything like that. That is not my intention. I have been where Richy was in this story, I didn’t kidnap or help bury anyone, but I’ve dealt with depression/anxiety all my life. I’ve dealt with suicidal thoughts. There is nothing glamorous about it. This is just a fictional character study to explore his mind and emotions at the end of the game. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust. Or a stranger, if that works better. Share the burden. You don’t have to suffer alone. It can get better. I promise. I wouldn’t be here if it didn’t ❤️🫂

Thank you ❤️

And the “masked figure,” that was Jake from this story, The Ending You Deserve. Just a little Easter egg for anyone who read that 🤭❤️

[duskwoodanne]

*Attention: This story is inspired by the canon of the game due to the future of the characters and the sequel to the oneshot 'Crossed destinies'.

    It couldn't be happening to me. No…

     I look at the blue screen of the computer, with a small —or perhaps greater— anxiety of not knowing what to do.

   "Come on, react," I comment, pressing all the keys, but I don't dare take out the flash drive or turn it off. “Please don't mess up.”

     Luckily, I had called the secretary's office explaining that I had a problem and that they would look for the programming teacher.      I lean on the table, biting my nails. A bad habit I've had for years. It's incredible that it has to happen to me, why did it happen? I have done what he told me, what could have been the problem?

    I try to type again while following the instructions, but the screen turns blue again.

   <<Great, you did a good job, Macie.>>

     I jump a little in place when I hear the voice. A familiar voice. I heard it two years ago.      I turn around finding a boy with black hair and green eyes.

   “It can't be…” I mutter to myself.

   “It cannot be what?” he asks me, adjusting his backpack.

     I shake my head, trying to come back to earth. Now I was ashamed to speak.

   <<Also, renember that you have a boyfriend, silly.>>

     Renember? Even my thoughts get nervous without being able to think about the words clearly.      I see the boy waiting for me to speak, he even raises an eyebrow, impatient.

   "Sorry, I was..." I took a deep breath, pointing to the computer. "I just don't know what happened, it was fine a moment ago and now, poof!" I raise my arms, slapping the sides of my body, nodding with eyes almost full of tears. “Goodbye, computer.”

   “Just like that?” He pushes me aside carefully, even with a small sorry.

    He start typing. It also gives him an error.

   “Just like that,” I cross my arms, watching him.

    I bite my lip as I tilt my head, looking at his―

   “Alright, I know what happened.”

I react, clearing my throat.

   “What happened?”

    He steps aside and I approach him. He points to the flash drive connected to the tower.

    “Where did you get the flash drive from?”

   “A third-grade student gave it to me,” I answer, beginning to think of the worst. “He told me that the teacher needed me to send her some urgent files and since he was busy, if I could do it.”

    He makes a sound of agreement but crosses his arms as he puts a hand to his chin.

   "Well, I have two news for you: One good and one bad." He looks me directly in the eyes and in part, I feel that it comforts me. "Which one do you want to hear first?"

   "The bad one," I answer with fear, "perhaps the good one will relieve me later."

    He lets out a laugh that makes me fall in love with it. I hope hr don't notice that I just blushed because I notice heat in my cheeks.

   "The bad thing is that they have played the joke that is played on first years—"

   "I'm a first year...”

   “Oh…” he scratches the back of his neck, nervous. “Well, officially welcome to the university.”

   “Thank you…” I bow my head, with a little discomfort.

    I didn't think this happened at this university, I thought it was prestigious, that's why I didn't choose to study outside the country.

   “Although it was supposed to be already prohibited since it can generate a high cost in repairing these computers.”

   “Oh yeah?” I look at him with curiosity at his words.

   “Each class had a flash drive like these to scare the first years, they gave it to the second years to continue the tradition,” he leans on the table, explaining it. “But seeing that each time the “virus”” he makes quotes with his hands “was much more dangerous, they banned it.”

    So a virus to scare the new ones. Well, it's not even a bit funny, I've found myself having to ask my parents for money and it's enough that they pay for my apartment because I wanted to live alone. At least until I find a job.

    I try to calm down, there is supposed to be a good part of all this.

   “Okay, and the good news?”

    The boy turns the backpack around and takes out a flash drive from one of the pockets.

   “I am the one they call when this happens,” I notice pride in his voice when he says it.

   “Or maybe you're the one who made these flash drives that make computers explode.”

   “No, it is not my style, I prefer to be more stealthy.”

     I let out a laugh, remembering his entrance. I didn't even notice him when he arrived.      He turns around and places the flash drive in the other USB connection. He sits in the chair and begins to work.      I sit at the desk, watching him work. I try to place my skirt better so that my legs can't be seen, I don't want to distract him. 

   <<Or do I? Wait, what am I thinking? Ugh… Calm down, you don't even know if he's dating anyone, it's weird that you're at the same university. Don't do this to Klaus, he's a good boy.>>

   “Leave.”

   “What?” I wake up from my thoughts. Looking at him confused.

   "You can leave if you want, it is just fixing it."

   "I won't stay calm until I see it fixed." I see him leaning on the table, looking at me, raising his eyebrows as if he were saying, 'Don't you trust me?'. “It's just that I've gotten nervous and I need to see that it's fixed, and also return the flash drive to that guy and tell him that his joke almost cost me a foot in the grave.”

     He lets out a kind of laugh —I think—, as if my expression had amused him. I don't see him looking at me even once, so he's not that type of guy... I like him.      With a smile, I get off the table. It is approved. He's not a pervert... For now...

    I sit in the chair next to him, watching him work. I may know how to type quickly, but he doesn't seem to even touch the keys. I stare at his hands. His fingers are long. Again, another heat wave. I shake my head, trying to shake these thoughts away. I just didn't believe I would see him here. What were the chances of finding him again?

   “It will be fine, do not worry,” he says with a smile without looking away from the screen.

   "It's not..." I bite my tongue, it's better if I don't say anything. "Yes, I'm worried, too worried."

   “Well, do not worry, that is why I am here.” He looks at me and winks.

    I roll my yes. He thinks he's good with his skills, huh?

   “Do you do this thing of fixing the computer of newbies who play pranks?” I ask, resting my chin on my hand.

   "No, it is been about two years since I fixed one," he answers, giving me a quick look. “I am surprised that flash drives are still in circulation, they are supposed to get rid of them.”

   "Well, someone didn't do it in my career."

   “What do you study?”

   “Journalism.”

   “I understand then,” I blink, confuse. “There is a promotion to get a future position in the news 'The Vigilant’', so everyone is wanting to be on the lists.”

   “And how do you know that?” I tilt my head, curious “Do you also study journalism?”

    He shakes his head, sighing a little heavier.

   "No, my..." I see that he bites his lips, is he hesitating? "My girlfriend studies journalism."

   "Oh..." well, it's a way to find out that we're both caught and that I don't have to make mental scenes. I have too many The Vampire Diaries in my head. “And you study programming,” I point to the computer.

   "If you say it because of how to use the computer, that's because I have known how to use it since I was a kid." I see how his eyes shine when he pronounces those words. It's almost as if he has transported him to another time.

    I smile as I think it's adorable. If he don't study something he already know, it must be so he don't get bored in class. But if he have chosen something that has nothing to do with his specialty, that is either because he like to learn or because he have something else that he like. At least I think someone like him would choose something he likes so as not to spend years bored at university.

     Hearing the notification sound from my phone, I raise my hand in apology for stopping the conversation.      A smile appears on my face. ---------------------------------------------------------

Klaus Macie, this weekend there is a party at a friend's house, are you in? 😉 ---------------------------------------------------------

    I smile looking at the mobile screen. Klaus is a good boy and my first boyfriend. The truth is that he behaves well with me and has a fun side. Although maybe that's why I hang out with him, because my cousin chose him as a friend. So that means he's not a bad guy. Although it's not what I've been dreaming of for two years, but... It's nice to be with him. But we almost never get to see each other.

   “It seems like you are better,” I hear the boy say and I look up from my phone.

   “Oh, my boyfriend just sent me a message,” I respond with a happy tone. “We barely get to see each other because he lives a couple of hours away from the city, so it's nice when he remembers me for little things.”

   “Oh, a long-distance relationship?” He raised an eyebrow at her question. Was the tone of annoyance?

   “Yes, is there something wrong?”

    He sigh and continue.

   “Well, I do not think those kinds of relationships work.”

    I let out a heavy air, along with a somewhat annoying laugh. What does this boy have to say about my life? I already found something wrong with him.

   "Sorry, but a long-distance relationship is very romantic." I cross my arms, leaning back in the chair. “then the reunion is magical.” I don't even know why I get angry, if I only said that it is a few hours from the city, it's not like Klaus lives outside the country.

   “Until one of the people in the couple doubts you or is constantly wanting to know who you are with,” I notice an annoyed tone. Is he saying it because of his girlfriend or because of a previous experience?

��  “Have you already been through that?” I ask without realizing that maybe I shouldn't have.

    He shoots me a look, though it's not like he's angry. He seems rather tired.

   “You really like to talk,” he sighs and returns to the computer.

   "If you want, I'll start talking to the chair," I point my head at his seat and I see him smile as he shakes his head. "You're the only one in this room I can talk to."

    I see the computer turn off and I open my eyes suddenly. He wasn't going to fix it? I shout alerting him to what he's doing, thinking it's another prank by the college veterans. I'm sure he played it on me.

     The boy looks at me and points at the screen, so that I can pay attention and stop screaming like a crazy woman —because I look like that— and I see that in reality... It restarts.      I let out a sigh, relieved.

   “You could have warned me,” I hit him on the arm, angry.

   “It was more fun to see your reaction,” I blush, embarrassed by his stupid smile now. Okay, he's good with computers, I admit it. “And yes.”

   “Yes what?” I look at him confuse at his words.

   "Yes, I have been through that," he shrugs, "or well... I am going through it."

    I bite my lip, a little uncomfortable. Maybe we shouldn't have talked about it, but... 

   “Then she is not the right person if she doubts you,” I answer directly. 

   "Oh, it's not because I hesitate, it's..." he looks concentrated at the screen, arms crossed. “Let me say it is because of her, she has been through terrible things and I am here to support her in whatever she needs.”

    I do something that I haven't done in a long time: I analyze him. I try to guess his expression, what does he mean, is he really comfortable with that relationship? But... His words have been very tender. That girl is lucky to have a boyfriend like him, I hope she's not beating him up too much with her jealousy or whatever.

   "Well, at least it's confirmed that you're trustworthy." I smile mischievously and he looks at me, raising an eyebrow, confused. “Your girlfriend can rest assured that you have not cheated on her.”

   "Wait, all this time you thought I was trying to hit on you?" ‘Trying to hit on me'? Is that still said today?

    I let out a small laugh at his words. He is cute.

   "I do not know what kind of men you have encountered, but you have offended me, I have only come to fix the computer." I see him typing on the screen again, angry.

   "Believe me, you've left me with a good impression, Mr. Computer technician." I lean on the table, smiling at him.

    He looks at me surreptitiously and I see that... Is he blushing? I don't think he's used to compliments.

    He finish typing and restart the computer. This time I stay quiet waiting while I bite my nails.

   “You are going to get hurt,” I hear him tell me and I lower my hand slowly, embarrassed by my attitude. “Look, I already fix it.”

   The computer turns on again, along with the files that were on the screen. I breathe a sigh of relief.

   "I admit it, you're good," I smile, getting a little closer to him to see the screen better. “If I have a problem with my computer, can I call you?” I look at him and see that he has been looking at me “Are you okay?”

   “Yes, I am fine,” he answers and gets up from the chair. I do the same and he takes out the flash drive, extending his hand to me, as if he were putting distance between the two of them. “Here, try not to get into a fight with the boy.”

   “Oh, don't worry, I'm just going to hide his body in the next lake I find,” I reply seriously and he laughs.

     I also extend my hand and he puts the flash drive in my hand. I try to calm down when I notice his hand, I don't want to think that he did it on purpose, but it was because of the speed of wanting to give it to me and that's why it touched me. I try to distract myself by keeping my eyes on the small object, looking away. I'm sure he can tell I'm red too. He must think I'm like a teenage watching her favorite actor.      I turn the small object in my hand. And I don't think I can erase my stupid smile. I’m happy to have seen him again. I thought I would never do it and I still don't know what his name is. Maybe I can ask him now what I couldn't do two years ago.

   "Hey, what is your—" I look up and see that he's gone.

    I turn around and see him walking out the door. Has he left without saying goodbye? But why is he so rude? Or... Maybe he didn't like me...

   “Again, without knowing his name,” I whisper to myself, squeezing my hand tightly on the flash drive.

    Lian walks through the door, with a smile.

   “Who is the guy who just left here?!” She asks, approaching me, excited.

   “Just someone who has helped me,” I grab my things and put my bag on my shoulder, while my jacket is in my hand.

   “And he has a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Married?” I shake my head and she laughs. “At least he admits that he was prettier than Klaus.”

    I kept thinking about the boy and his words towards his girlfriend. I found him two years later. But I want him to be happy. I won't get involved in his life, in fact, I'm glad he found someone and he cares about her.

   "Hey Lian, shall we go to the cafeteria in the student area?" I ask to change the subject.

   “Sure, I'd like to have a strong one.”

    I set up the chairs and turn off the computer, feeling a little homesick at the moment.

    In the end, I will keep this reunion and the first one deep in my heart. And the last thing I want to do is get into a relationship when I'm also dating someone.

    I hope we are both happy with our respective partners, Mr. Computer technician.

[duskwoodanne]

🥺🥺😍😍

A oneshot in honor of 800 days since I played Duskwood for the first time <3

Jake was the first to wake up. He was used to it because of his job, wanting to finish early so he could have the rest of the day free.

He sat up in bed, looking to his right. A smile appeared on his face as he saw Macie sleeping. And it was replaced by laughter as he heard little Hope blow bubbles with her mouth in her sleep.

After spending the whole night crying, he now seemed like a little angel. Just like her mother.

He took a handkerchief and wiped her face. Every time he saw her, the protective instinct grew. Now it wasn't about protecting a single person.

It was still difficult for him to think that all of this was real. That he finally had a life with her. It had taken him being granted complete freedom in exchange for working for the FBI, but there he was. Having a normal life.

He slowly stroked Macie’s cheek and she was awake, blinking slowly.

She looked up and smiled at Jake. The light from the window made him a perfect silhouette of a shadow resembling the presentation of a hero. She bit his lip, controlling herself. It wasn't the time.

"Good morning," she said with a hoarse voice, still a little asleep. "Admiring the scene?" her voice sounded sweet, holding her daughter's little hand.

Jake nodded, bowing to them.

He rested his forehead on his wife’s, with a smile. Macie laughed happily. She also didn't believe she had this life with him and had something beautiful that the two of them had created. Having Hope had been something she'd never thought about if Jake hadn't come into her life. She was what showed her that a miracle could be born from a pure love like theirs. Hope had been the hope they had had to be together.

The little girl began to stretch, making small sounds. The parents laughed without making much noise.

Macie carefully placed a small kiss on her head and Jake placed a small kiss on her little hand. The little girl opened her eyes and looked at them curiously.

"Good morning, little angel," Jake said slowly, so as not to scare her.

"I thought I was your angel," Macie joked.

Jake smiled at her, placing his hand behind her neck, pulling her close to him and kissing her slowly.

“You are the angel, she is the little angel” he looked at Hope again and then at her “and you both are what I love most in this life.”

Macie's face lit up. She always seemed to be hearing those beautiful words for the first time.

She wanted to kiss him again, but Hope started to complain.

She laughed, sitting up in bed.

"It seems like someone is hungry," she picked her up, speaking to her tenderly.

“Let me help you,” Jake put her hair up in a small bun, and then looked at them lovingly.

He would truly give his life for them to be safe.

But also, he would do anything to continue being in their lives.

And he was sure that this life together was going to be wonderful if he had them to forget all the bad things he had gone through.

He finally got a family he was never going to lose.

[duskwoodanne]

Phil: Nobody wants you more than I do.

MC: *snorts* Yeah sure, Hawkins.

Phil: What's that supposed to mean?

Jake: That she doesn't believe you. But you better believe me when I say nobody wants you dead more than I do.