spective90

[spective90]

Medusa Complex - 1

Many people in my hometown believed that the house next to my parents’ place was destined to be empty for as long as it stood its ground. Built in 1929, the Victorian palace sat on top of the hill that cast its shadow upon the entire valley.

We think the royals lived in it before the world wars begun, where dynasties collapsed, and common people revolutionized the lands. It could have been torn down ages ago but after years of standing tall, the town has pretty much left it alone. It’s like a totem protecting Foxwood from disaster; we hadn’t had any devastation in a long time. Everybody knew about the house and its lonely reputation, so you can imagine my surprise when a black SUV pulled into its driveway one day as I returned from the grocery store, carrying a realtor and a pair of young house hunters.

“And here, as you can see, is by far the oldest house in the neighborhood,” the realtor said as he exited the car, “I figure this relic might not be ​exactly​ what you’re looking for, but if you’re going to move to Foxwood, this is a nice part of its history–”

“Well, we’re open to buying any property at this point, Mr. Lorem,” a middle-aged man said, climbing out of the back seat, his voice loud and deep. His skin fair, he sported long, ginger hair with a trimmed beard, and dressed nicely. He rounded the vehicle as the realtor waited by the cobblestone stairs, and opened the door for who I assumed to be his wife.

The first thing I noticed were her black pumps and silk tights as she climbed out of the car. I tried to keep my eyes on what I was doing as I gathered bags from the back of Waylen’s sedan, but despite myself, I looked again as soon as I heard the door close.

The woman, tanned and lean, wore white-framed sunglasses and a matching summer dress. Her hair was dirty blonde and she carried herself confidently beside her husband while he led her by the arm. The action struck me as odd, and I wondered if she was older than I originally thought; I couldn’t see her face too well, but the body she had was almost criminal.

My eyes traveled over her as the three of them walked into the building, and I nearly lost my grip on one of the bags on my way up the driveway.

As soon as they disappeared, I sighed and shook my head.

“Jessie,” my brother called from inside, “You good?”

“Yeah,” I replied back, throat feeling a bit dry, “Give me a sec.”

After the last of the bags, I shut the trunk and locked it up. Our parents had tasked us to fix their house up while they went away for a bit. Its birch wood structure and wide, open backyard was definitely a sight to see; it was exactly the same as I’d remembered it to be.

I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Sitting on the couch, my brother squinted his eyes as he watched a soccer game play out.

“Hey, do you know if the house next door is for sale?” I asked him as I unscrewed the cap.

Waylen made a confused face. “The castle-looking one?” I nodded. “Uh, not that I know of. Why?”

I took a few swigs and played with the hem of my tank top. “Some couple is looking at it right now. I don’t even think the guy showing it is from around here.”

Waylen scoffed and turned to look at me. “How does that even...? So it’s not someone from the local place?”

“No. The dude kinda looks like Willy Wonka.” I thought for a second. “With glasses.”

“Heh,” Waylen chuckled, “Maybe they’re from the next town over? Darton, or something?”

“Dunbarton,” I corrected. “Maybe. Or Cozy Lake.”

My brother shook his head and turned back to the game. “We’re surrounded by rich people out here,” he grumbled. “Not gonna lie, I’m happy to get away from everything, but I think I’ll be happier when the rents get back. You can only be out here in the boonies for so long before it just... gets to you.”

I put my drink down and looked out the living room window, watching the wind tickle the flowerbeds outside. “Yeah. I just hope mom and dad find what they’re looking for on their trip,” I mumbled.

“True.” Waylen threw his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “They deserve it, right?”

“Mhm,” I nodded and glanced towards the stairs. “Hey, I’m gonna hop in the shower. When is Laurie coming over again? Sunday?”

Laurie was his fiancée. She’d offered to help with the job since we’d first gotten out here a few days ago. “Eh... I’ll call her. She said sometime this weekend,” he confirmed, his focus torn between the TV and our conversation.

I didn’t wait for him to elaborate. The floorboards creaked as I ascended the stairs and got ready for my shower.

What I knew about this entire expedition was that we had about two months to finish it. To celebrate their anniversary, my parents bought themselves a 6-week long vacation to rekindle what had been lost while they both worked and sent us away to college.

Waylen graduated with a degree in business management and I barely finished with a degree in traditional arts this past May. All I knew heading into school was that I was good with my hands, and I liked to create things. As far as I was concerned, maybe I’d be lucky enough to be in a gallery one day.

Part of the reason I decided to come out to Foxwood again was to take a break before finding a job, and to spend time with Waylen before he went back to his suburban life outside the city. Our parents’ place was still in good condition but definitely needed some touch-ups, as the wood was stained and matted from constant weathering, and my mother was having none of it.

“Just give it a facelift, honey,” ​she’d said to me over the phone not too long ago. ​“We’ve already asked your brother to come too. Think of it as a small vacation; you’ll be there until the end of November... you don’t have to pay us anything. We just want to see what you can do with it.”

“You’re asking the twins of​ terror,”​ I said dramatically, “to give your house a makeover while you travel the country with dad?”

“Yes, thank you, Jessie. You’re a sweetheart for agreeing to do this.” I​ hadn’t— not yet, at least. ​“We love you very much.”

I didn’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter, anyway. “Love you too, mom.”

Over dinner later that night, after the pizza guy came, the two of us started spitballing ideas for any serious reparations during the next few weeks.

“So here’s what I’m thinking—” I started, twirling some spaghetti with my fork, “We start with the outside first and work our way in. It’s gonna be cold by the end of October and I really don’t wanna be out in the woods with the temperature below 30.”

“True,” Waylen agreed.

“So outside first. We can figure out colors when the sun’s up.” A flicker of light caught my eye and I turned to the living room window, watching as the people from earlier wandered outside on the Victorian house’s balcony.

“Ooo,” I hummed as I pointed. “Look. Told ya.”

My brother looked at me quizzically before catching the scene outside. He stood and walked over to the kitchen window to get a better angle. “Huh. Yeah, they’ve gotta be from Dunbarton,” he mused, taking another bite of his pizza. “Imagine if they end up buying the place? That’d upset the town for sure. Watch them knock it down and build a park over it.”

I shook my head. “No way, dude. It’s held up since the beginning of time. They’d need a ton of lawyers for all that.”

Waylen scoffed. “Well, from the looks of it, I don’t think money would be a huge problem for them...” He paused. “Do you see that guy’s wife? She’s wearing sunglasses and it’s like 6 o’clock at night.”

Furrowing my brows, I leaned forward to get a better look. Sure enough, she hadn’t taken them off, and the sun had definitely gone down since they arrived. My curiosity grew

when the woman stalked back inside, her husband still supporting her with his arm, and the realtor shuffled through a bunch of papers in his hands as he followed them.

“You think the rents would be psyched if they came back here with new neighbors?” Waylen said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Living in that house, no less.”

“Funny.”

“I mean, the dude’s got the paperwork right there,” he pointed out. He probably had a better view than I did. “Yeah, wow, I think they’re shaking hands.”

I was still highly skeptical, no matter what it looked like.

Waylen moved back into the living room and joined me on the couch. “If anything,” he said, grabbing the remote, “you’ll have some good eye candy for these next two months, right?”

“Shut up.”

[spective90]

Wattpad: shitty writing, shitty plot, but somehow you get a million views even though???, great place to post your original story

Tumblr: most stories are made from prompts, most are one shots, most are under 900 words, awesome writing

Fanfic,net: the go-to for a bigger number of content, Ao3’s younger try-hard brother, half-baked writing, half-baked plot, all the good fics are also at Ao3,

Ao3: the better brother, will always be at ‘beta’ (forever improving), well-written stories, home of the long ass 100k stories that are amazingly done, needs donations every once in a while