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litniche · 4 years

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Love Will Find a Way

Read Ch. 9 on ao3

Dani x Jamie fanfic

CHAPTER 9

One of the things Dani loved about Jamie was her nomadic nature. When Dani had first enjoyed the privilege of visiting Jamie’s studio, that nature had been evident in the lack of possessions scattered about. The space was lived in and boasted Jamie’s green thumb, but was otherwise rather spare. That was, until Dani had moved in. Somehow, she had accumulated far more than she had meant to over the last few months. One might need a mug here, a towel there, a book...or several. And, she really really had gone to town hoarding clothes.

Jamie stared at the overstuffed closet. “You have a problem."

“I knoooow,” Dani sighed, exasperated with herself. “I can’t help it. I see something cute and I just can't walk away. I’m marrying you after all,” she said with a sly grin.

Jamie turned back to look at Dani with a raised brow. “Owen would be proud, Poppins.”

“Okay, ouch, actually.”

Jamie grinned, chuckling under her breath as she shook her head. “Right. How do we do this?”

“You hold up an item and I’ll tell you if it’s to be donated or kept?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The closet took them less time than Dani had feared, but more than she’d hoped. By mid-afternoon,the Wingrave's new cook brought lunch to the pair along with Miles and Flora who had insisted on coming. Dani agreed that the children could stay as long as they lent a hand. Under her direction, the children helped them clean and pack until the sun was beginning to set.

“What is your flat like in America?” Miles asked as the day came to a close.

“Well, for starters, we call it an apartment,” Dani began. “It’s cozy. Bigger than this place, but much smaller than the manor.”

Flora smiled as she twirled in the middle of the room, bumping into Jamie. The gardener retaliated by picking Flora up and turning her upside down to hang her by her ankles. The little girl squealed in delight before Jamie plopped her down on the bed beside Dani. She curled into the au pair, cuddling her side. Dani felt her heartstrings pull. She would miss them so much. And so soon.

“Sounds nice,” Miles nodded, smiling a little sadly.

“You know,” Dani began as waved for the boy to come closer. She took the pair of jeans he had been folding for her and placed it in a bag meant for donation. “You can always visit us and see it for yourself.”

“That would be splendid!” Flora interjected. “I’ve always wanted to see America!”

“Then it’s settled,” Dani smiled at her, then Miles. “I’ll tell your uncle that you’re welcome anytime.”

Miles and Flora beamed at Dani. Jamie caught the au pair’s eye. There was a hint of mirth in the gardener’s eyes, but she also looked pleased.

“Are we sure about inviting gremlins into our new home?”

“We’re not gremlins!” Flora argued.

Jamie squinted her eyes at the girl. “That’s just what a gremlin would say. All right, you lot --that’s enough work for the day. There’s only a bit of tidying left and honestly, the place looks better than the day I moved in already. Miles and Flora: do us a favor and take down the rubbish. Then we’ll pack the donations into the truck. Got it?”

Miles saluted and Flora quickly mimicked him. They darted for the bins and ran down the stairs at an alarming pace, leaving Dani to clench her fist and bite it while Jamie laughed. “They’re after matching your ankle, I reckon.”

“They want to turn my hair grey,” Dani sighed.

Jamie seemed to consider it. “Can’t say that wouldn’t be fetching.”

“And you call me a flirt.”

“Two to tango, Poppins,” Jamie said with a wink. She bent to grab a few bags meant for donation, setting them aside for Flora and Miles to take down. “Let’s get you downstairs.”

“I’m okay on my own now,” Dani said with an insincere roll of her eyes. After only a week of Jamie’s care and all-around babying of her ankle, Dani felt all but healed.

“Humor me,” Jamie insisted, holding out her hand.

Dani took it, rising so that she stood within inches of her fiancée. She scanned Jamie’s face, her eyes landing on two pink, ready lips. She darted for them in a quick peck. “Just this once, I suppose.”

“Please. Wrapped around my pinky, you are,” Jamie said as she wiggled her little finger in the air.

A smirk played on Dani's lips. “That so?”

“Mmmhmm,” Jamie hummed, making as if to step away. When Dani swayed forward as if pulled by an invisible thread to follow, the gardener stopped suddenly. They collided, Dani’s lips landing on Jamie’s. The gardener chortled softly in the kiss. “I’d say so.”

The light but pounding footsteps of the children climbing the stairs interrupted before Dani could protest, but Dani knew she wouldn’t have much of a leg to stand on, ankle healed or not.

****

A fews days had passed and Jamie’s studio was officially out of their hands. The wedding was only a few days away now and Henry had arranged that they’d all be leaving for France together in the morning.

Henry stared at the fire, poking it and adding a log that Jamie handed him. After putting the children to bed, Henry had proposed a bonfire to celebrate Jamie and Dani’s last night at the manor.

Dani was grateful. Even next to Jamie, she wasn’t sure she would be getting much sleep tonight. Tomorrow meant Paris. Paris meant the wedding. It felt surreal that the woman sitting next to her, currently sharing a Tartan-woven blanket with her, would soon be her wife. She watched the fire’s glow dance in Jamie’s eyes, marvelling at her luck. What were the odds that their paths would bring them both to Bly Manor? Then again, maybe it wasn’t luck at all.

The three sat in seemingly comfortable silence, nursing hot chocolates, but Dani felt an itch; she needed to say something, and there was really no time like the present. Tomorrow would be a busy day of travelling and the following days leading up to the wedding would leave little room for much else. Then Jamie and Dani would go on their honeymoon and the Wingraves would return to Bly. She had to broach the subject now or never.

“Henry,” she started, “I’ve been wondering- well, I’ve been noticing that your tea has less spirit lately.”

Jamie’s brows shot up, but Dani squeezed her hand, silently telling her it was okay and to wait for Henry’s reply.

“American bluntness never disappoints,” Henry smiled and Dani was relieved to see his eyes held the same fond frankness she was trying to employ. “Yes, I am sober.”

Dani exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “I thought so.”

“Yes, well, the children…” Henry trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “With Charlotte and my brother gone, they’re all I have left. I’m all they have left.”

“Do you have some sort of plan?” Jamie asked. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees and fingers laced. “Or someone to talk to, maybe? A way to keep it up?”

“I’ve employed a counselor,” Henry nodded. “Among other things. With Ms. Clayton gone,” he smiled as he met Dani’s gaze, “I’ll need a bit more support, I know. For starters, I’ve no intention of letting a bottle of alcohol into that Manor ever again.”

“It’s not always about intentions,” Dani said softly with a worried brow. “My mother--she drank before my father passed away and it only got worse after that. She’d make me promises over the years, telling me she’d get better for me, ya know? But eventually? She failed. Every time. Henry, you can’t fail. You can’t fail these children.”

“I know,” Henry nodded, staring into the bonfire again. “Not after what they’ve been through.”

“I’m not going to be here anymore,” Dani’s voice quivered as she spoke. “But I’m here . I don’t care what time it is here or in America, if you need someone to talk to, to call you cab, to yell at you--I’m here, Henry.” She reached out, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. “You’re goddamn family now, so I’m going to be a downright nuisance. I won’t lose you. And I won’t let the children lose you either.”

Squeezing her hand in return, Henry laughed softly, his eyes glistening. “Thank you, Ms. Clayton.”

“I think you can call me Dani now,” the au pair laughed, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. Little had she known when she had first come to Bly that she would leave with the love of her life and a new family. She sniffed and sat up, whipping a tear as she smiled and leaned into Jamie as the gardener rubbed her back in soothing circles.

“I must say I’m going to miss you. Both of you,” he said as he regarded Jamie with the same fondness. “I’m so very lucky and grateful for the time we’ve spent together.”

“Chin up, Boss,” Jamie said. “We’ve got a few more days left and besides, we expect visits to America at least once a year. No exceptions.”

Bowing his head in laughter, Henry nodded. “Yes, I expect the children will want to visit you as soon as you’re done with your honeymoon.”

“No objections here,” Dani grinned. “Let’s make a plan. I don’t want to leave without knowing when I’ll see you all next.”

Henry put his hand on his heart. “Leave it to me. You two have enough to worry about in the next few days.”

Dani bit her lip as her stomach flipped. Inwardly, she scolded herself for feeling nervous about the wedding approaching. Sure, she wasn’t sure what her life had in store for her-- no one does-- but she knew she wanted to spend every minute of it she could with Jamie. “So soon,” she said in agreement.

Henry held up his mug of hot chocolate. “To the brides and your lives together. May you not take a single day for granted and may you always know you have family in Bly.”

Dani and Jamie raised their mugs, letting them clunk against Henry’s before taking a sip.

When the fire tamed, they retired. In Dani’s old room, the au pair stood stock still at the foot of the bed, staring off into space.

“Poppins? All right?” Jamie asked as she wove her arms around the au pair’s waist from behind.

Dani closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Jamie’s, holding her to her. “Just thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

Dani swatted the gardener’s hip playfully.

“Seriously, Poppins. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dani said, still working through what was going on for herself. “I think I’m nervous?”

“That’s normal,” Jamie said with a kiss to Dani’s shoulder.

“Not that kind of nervous,” Dani shook her head. Not about you or marrying you. I’m just…the last time I was about to be married, things didn’t go so well.”

Jamie turned Dani in her arms. “Things are a little different this time,” she said steadfastly, holding Dani’s gaze, as if her surety alone could convince the au pair of her words.

“I know, and I want this. That’s the biggest difference,” Dani said. She held Jamie’s face in her palms, her eyes scanning every angle and curve of the beauty in front of her in reverence. “Don’t for a second doubt that, Jay.”

A tenderness that made Dani’s knees feel as weak as her ankle found its way into Jamie’s eyes and her soft smile. “I don’t. I wouldn’t have said ‘yes’ otherwise.” She paused, then asked, “But?”

“But, I’m nervous,” Dani admitted again. “I’m scared, really. I-” her voice wavered as she spoke. “I kind of don’t want to let you out of my sight until the wedding is over and we’re safe back in Vermont.”

“Firstly, I think that can be arranged,” Jamie said with a light chuckle, pecking Dani’s lips. “And second, we’ve had this discussion, Poppins. You don’t decide who lives and dies. You don’t. I don’t plan on going anywhere, but when I do--someday in the very distant future, I hope-- it won’t be because of you.”

“I know it’s silly or superstitious or whatever, but it’s what I feel,” Dani huffed, annoyed with herself.

“Considering what you’ve been through, Poppins, I’d say you’re entitled to a little superstition.” The gardener kissed Dani slowly, caressing her lips softly with her own to soothe her. Her hands massaged Dani’s back as she held her close, and the tension Dani held there began to loosen. “I’m not going anywhere,” Jamie whispered.

Dani let her chin rest on the gardener’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her waist as Jamie’s hands began to work their magic at the base of her neck. She sighed as she let her forehead fall onto the gardener’s shoulder and turned her neck to kiss just below Jamie’s ear. She wanted to let herself drown in Jamie’s affection, to forget about the aching chill of her anxiety that crept across her skin and burrowed deep within her--that ever-lasting threat that came with loving someone as wholly as she did Jamie. The guarantee that one day, one way or another, she would lose her.

“Promise?” the au pair asked, knowing Jamie could never promise her what she was asking. Just like Dani, she couldn't decide who lived or died.

Jamie parted from Dani enough to bring their lips together in a kiss. She ducked, for just a moment, to lift Dani’s knee and wrap her leg around the gardener's waist, still mindful of Dani’s ankle despite it being on the mend. She leaned forward so that Dani fell back onto the bed and let her hand slide up Dani’s side as she deepened the kiss. When she pulled away, it was as if her eyes poured every ounce of her love into Dani’s. The au pair met her gaze in wonder at the miracle that was Jamie as she held her face and combed back soft curls.

“One day at a time, Poppins,” Jamie said. “It’s all anyone can promise, when you get down to it. As long as those days are spent with you, one day at a time is fine by me.”

“Okay,” Dani said, bringing their foreheads together and resigning herself to the fact that to truly love another person meant accepting the work of loving them was worth the pain of losing them. "One day at a time. If enough for you, it's enough for me."

"I reckon it's enough for me."

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oskea93 · 4 years

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Two Ghost (2)

“You look absolutely stunning.”

I couldn’t help but blush, reaching my hand across the table, intertwining mine and Ryan’s fingers. “You look handsome as well.”

He gave me a smile, bringing my hand up to his lips, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you either, Ryan.”

4 months.

Ryan and I were to be married in four months. Every little detail was being taken care of courtesy of the wedding planner I had hired. I wanted this wedding to be special, nice. Seeing as this was my first “official” wedding, I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted the perfect venue, an amazing reception area, the delicious cake, and my handsome groom waiting for me at the altar. I didn’t have to worry about rival gang members interrupting the ceremony or my groom getting ushered away due to “club shit.”

“Are the girls staying the night with Gemma?”

I took a sip of my water, shaking my head. “No-”I started. “She’s supposed to be dropping them off when dinner is over. Charlotte has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“Maybe this weekend we can have some alone time.” He spoke, wiggling his eyes brows in a suggestive manner.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “We’ll just have to see about that.”

Silence overtook us once our meals appeared. We made small talk, telling each other how good the food was, finally settling on the check. I watched as Ryan removed his platinum credit card, giving the waitress a smile as she walked off with the payment.

“You sure you don’t want to let Gemma take the girls for the night?” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I entwined our fingers once again, pulling at his hand, “You know I can’t, baby.”

I had told Ryan from the very start of our relationship that my kids were number one. I wasn’t the type of mother to push them off on other people just because a new man came into my life. Ryan would press every now and then, seeing if I would finally buckle. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t going to buckle to no one when it came to Charlotte and Sophia...

The car ride home was silent, but a comfortable silent. I watched as the big city lights grew dimmer the closer we got to Charming. The small town coming into focus in the windshield giving me a sense of calm. Even though Ryan was a Hale, he wanted as far away from Charming as possible. He didn’t want to stick around like his two older brothers. He had seen what Charming had become in the past decade and the people that had overtaken the streets. The Hales and SOA were bitter enemies, Jax and Ryan included. The two men had grown up around each other, often getting into fights growing up. From what I heard from Ryan, as soon as he turned 18, he packed up his stuff and left Charming. He didn’t come back to the town until his brother’s untimely death, which he of course blamed on the club.

“You want me to walk you in?” I turned my attention to Ryan as he placed the car in park in front of my house. “You know, make sure there’s no boogeyman or anything.”

I leaned over the center consult, pulling his chin in my hands, placing my lips softly on his. The kiss was slow, sweet. Kissing Ryan was like kissing a soft, fluffy cloud. His lips were tender and plush. Sure, there was the occasional nipping or eagerness, but kissing Ryan felt safe.

“Goodnight, babe.” I pulled away with a smile.

I gathered my things, removing myself from the luxury vehicle. “I’ll call you when I get home.” Ryan smiled. I simply nodded my head, closing the door behind me as I started making my way towards the front door.

As I entered the house, I placed my things down on the entryway table, kicking my heels off to the side. I looked down at my watch seeing that I had at least 30 more minutes before the girls would be home. This was my chance to get a quick shower and get things ready for bedtime. I made my way up the stairs, bypassing my bedroom and went right for the shower. I stripped out of my dress, folding it, and laying it on the counter. I washed up real fast, skipping my hair since it would take too long.

Once I was dressed in my pajamas, I made my way to each of the girls’ rooms, picking out their pjs and getting their beds ready for bed. Hopefully, they would be out when Gemma drops them off but they could also be wired for sound. I would have to be the bad guy and put them to bed after Gemma allowed them to do whatever the hell they wanted at her house.

I ventured down the stairs as headlights flooded through the windows. I slipped on a pair of flip flops and walked out to help get the girls in. Instead of being met with dark curls with streaks of blonde, the blonde, slicked hair of Jackson Teller shown dully in the light of the street lamp. Jax and I stayed silent as he passed me Sophia. I watched from behind as he unbuckled a sleeping Charlotte, carefully removing her from the car. We made our way into the house, carefully taking both sleeping kids up to their bedroom. I almost wanted to forgo putting them in their pajamas since they were sleeping so well. I didn’t want to wake them up, especially Sophia, who became a little gremlin if woken up before time. Thankfully, Jax was able to get both girls into their pajamas and tucked into bed before I could lift a finger.

I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, filling the tea kettle, placing it on the stove. I had my back turned, reaching for my cup when a familiar set of hands latched onto my side. “How’s the fiancé?”

I stayed silent for a moment as his lips softly moved from my shoulder up to my neck. He followed the tattoo pattern that was inked in my skin, setting fire to the artwork.

“Fine.” I breathed out.

“Just fine.” He continued to tease. I moaned out loud as his hand crept under my shirt, running his callused hands up and down my side.

The sound of the tea kettle began to whistle, snapping me out of my lustful thoughts. I quickly pushed away from the counter that Jax had me trapped against and removed the pot from the heat. With shaky hands, I poured the boiling water into the cup, dousing the tea bag in the liquid.

“We gonna talk about what happened the other night?”

I stayed still, watching as the steam rolled off the cup.

The other night.

What happened between Jax and I the other night was one of the reasons why I dreaded seeing him. I was in a vulnerable state that night. I had too many glasses of wine and Gemma was watching the kids for the night. I didn’t expect anyone to come over, especially not Jax. I had just gotten out of the bathtub, only wearing a robe when I answered the door. From what I remembered, Charlotte had left Bullwinkle, her stuffed moose and was now refusing to go to bed without it. Jax showed up, looking like he always does, and next thing I know my robe is off and Jax and I are going at each other like wild animals. I don’t know whether it was the fact that I hadn’t had sex in months or the fact that I was drunk and Jax and I were alone. I woke up the next morning feeling like shit and Jax sleeping next to me.

“I was drunk and that’s it.” I turned around. “It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, okay.”

Jax looked at me for a moment, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Caroline, you weren’t that drunk.”

I looked down at my painted toes, heat spreading across my face. “I had a couple glasses of wine before you even showed. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing and that’s it.”

Jax let out a laugh, his fingers pulling at his unkempt beard. “You make it sound like it was a random hookup, like you and I don’t even know each other.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink. Ever since I met Jax, he has driven me absolutely crazy. I fell in love with him the very first moment I met him, even having sex with him within an hour of knowing him. I was young, naïve, and looking for a way out. I knew I didn’t belong at that bar, I wasn’t like the girls that worked there. I knew that I needed better in my life and being a “hang-around” was not going to be my destiny. I had heard about the infamous Sons of Anarchy, especially Jackson Teller from the other girls. Most of them knew them on a personal level and had certain favorites. Before I even met him, the girls told me to stay away from Jax. He was a whore and was only looking for someone to keep his dick warm for the night. Well, being the naïve 18-year-old I was at the time, I was willing to be that person. From the moment I saw him walk into the bar, I was smitten. I didn’t even care if I never saw this guy ever again, I just wanted to be alone with him for however long.

Fast forward to present day and two children later, I can see why the women at Jury’s gave me such a warning when it came to Jax. They were familiar with men like him, handsome, dangerous, and unfaithful. I didn’t see that until it was too late. I was blinded by the handsome husband and being bought with money, jewelry, and trips to new and exciting places. Not to mention, a gorgeous building to start my clothing store. I didn’t want to believe that my wonderful husband was fucking anything with blonde hair and long legs. I wanted to believe that he was just busy with the club or that stupid porn studio he invested in. When it became evident that Jax and I’s relationship wasn’t going to work anymore, I felt like a total failure. Old ladies don’t leave. Old ladies stick it out and try harder to please their men. Well, I was done trying.

I was able to get away from Jax and keep it that way for almost two years. I met Ryan and we instantly hit it off. He was the ying to my yang. He was the type of guy that never interested me but I was grown and looking for an adult relationship. A few weeks after Ryan purposed, Jax and I started fooling around. It all started when the club went into lockdown and everyone had to go to the Red Woody warehouse. It was late and the sexual tension was building up. It happened in a blink of an eye and I told myself it wouldn’t happen again. I was engaged to be married. I knew what it felt like to be cheated on and here I was fucking my ex in the bathroom of a porn studio. I did everything in my power to stay away from Jax and it seemed like it was working. I guess you could say it was working until last week when we had sex everywhere but the bedroom…

“It’s getting late, Jax.” I spoke.

I didn’t realize how close he had gotten, being close enough that we were almost toe to toe. I looked up at him, his green eyes staring right into mine.

“I can be out of here before the girls get up.” He whispered, his hands finding mine.

If Charlie and Sophia found their dad and I in bed together, that would be one long therapy session that I didn’t have time for. They knew us apart and with other people in my case. Charlotte, especially, would get her hopes up and think that Jax and I were back together. “And what happens if they wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or something? What if it starts storming, Jax? You know Sophia hates thunderstorms.” I was trying to come up with every pathetic excuse in the book to get him to leave.

My heart started beating fast as he brought our hands up, pinning them to the wall behind me. I was trapped against the wall, Jax’s body flush against mine. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it, darlin.”

#Jax Teller #Jackson Teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller imagine #jax x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #Charlie Hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam imagine #SOA

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frenchfrysplash · 4 years

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fic: between heaven, the sky, the earth

The Haunting of Bly Manor

Dani/Jamie

Chapter 1/10

Read on AO3 Here! Or you can continue into the Read More.

Summary: Jamie goes between one moment, and the next. Falling around her like rain, like snow.

She's here for a reason. Here to help.

She just needs to remember.

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

They say a dream takes only a second or so, and yet in that second a man can live a lifetime. He can suffer and die, and who's to say which is the greater reality: the one we know or the one in dreams, between heaven, the sky, the earth"- Perchance to Dream," The Twilight Zone, Episode 1x09

April 1984

Jamie's fingers twisted together, so tight it almost hurt.

The kitchen of Bly Manor was silent, save for a clock ticking on the wall, driving Jamie slowly insane. Her heart was thrumming in her chest, the starch of her collared shirt itching at her throat. She should have chosen a blouse, something more feminine, instead of the slacks and grey button up she wore. Who knew what the Wingraves would think of her? They might take one look at her and send her home, not wanting their grounds cared for by a dy-

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Tayler!"

Jamie practically leapt out of her seat, almost knocking the chair over. Charlotte Wingrave swept into the room like a breeze on a warm day, her smile lighting up the kitchen and making the corners of Jamie's lips pull up of their own accord. She reached across the table to shake Jamie's hand, and Jamie found herself resisting the ridiculous urge to pull Charlotte's hand towards her to kiss her knuckles. Charlotte Wingrave, with her dark hair, her kind eyes, and her easy elegance, seemed to inspire the chivalrous side of Jamie's nature. It had been the same the first time they met, when Jamie called on the manor to answer the ad for a new gardener.

"Don't worry about it," Jamie said. And cleared her throat. "I wasn't waiting long. And please, call me Jamie."

"Well, thank you, Jamie" Charlotte settled herself in the seat opposite. "I do try to be on time, but, with two young children, the day does get away from you."

"I can only imagine, ma'am," Jamie replied, sitting back down. "I knew a pair of kids once, right pair of wee gremlins they-"

She stopped, furrowing her brow. She had never known any children, had none of her own, and didn't know anyone with kids. She wasn't sure what had made her say that, but fortunately, Charlotte didn't pursue the tangent.

"Now, you told me you were interested in the gardener position when you dropped by the other day," Charlotte said, hands folding in front of her. "The letter you wrote was excellent, and you seem to have plenty of experience. So tell me, what interests you about the job?"

"Oh, well," Jamie sat up a little straighter, trying to ignore her sweaty palms. "I've been working as a labourer for a landscaping company in London. Worked on a lot of different gardens, all over the city." She paused, trying to work out how to say the next part. "If I'm honest, I wanted to get out to the countryside. London is a bit fast-paced for me, even with growing plants, and I've been wanting to slow down. It's like," Jamie hands came up, like she was trying to pull the words out of the air, "people there don't understand that growth takes time. I thought somewhere like this," she gestured vaguely, "somewhere with so much history, so much growth over time, I thought, somewhere like that, the people might just get it."

She held her breath, hoping she hadn't put Charlotte off with her speech. But Charlotte was smiling, and nodding along. Jamie felt herself smile back.

"Very good," Charlotte said, voice warm and approving. "Now, with this position, you would be responsible for the upkeep of the entire grounds. Does that sound like something you're comfortable with?"

"More than comfortable," Jamie replied. "Sounds wonderful to me. I like the idea of caring for something like that, keeping it happy and healthy."

"Excellent." Charlotte beamed, and Jamie blinked. For an instant, a different face had beamed at her from across the table; a beautiful face, with blue eyes and blonde hair, and a smile that tugged at Jamie's heart. But she must have imagined it, because a moment later, it was just Charlotte again.

She realized Charlotte had said something that she'd missed, and Jamie leaned forward.

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"Oh, apologies." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I asked, how did you start gardening?"

Oh.

Jamie hesitated, casting her eyes away from Charlotte's face, her own falling. Here it was. She could lie, and hope Charlotte never found out. Or she could tell the truth.

"Well, I got into it because-" Jamie stopped, and sighed, shoulders drooping. For the first time, she avoided Charlotte's gaze. "Honestly, the garden was one of the work rotations I was given in prison."

She risked a glance. Charlotte's smile had faded, replaced with a furrowed brow. She nodded to Jamie to continue.

"I had never so much as picked up a spade before," Jamie admitted. "But when they put me in that garden, it was like something…settled. It was hard work, and it kept my mind quiet. There were other women there I learned from, and when I got out, one of them helped me find my job in London. Haven't looked back since."

She let herself meet Charlotte's eyes, fully expecting to find disapproval and disappointment there. Instead, she found the older woman was looking at her thoughtfully, finger tapping her chin. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, a sliver of hope blooming in her chest.

"You know, Jamie," Charlotte said kindly. "I think of myself as a great judge of character."

Jamie said nothing, just nodded.

"After all," Charlotte sat back in her chair, waving her hand as if to indicate the entire manor. "I hired Hannah Grose. And that woman is a miracle, let me tell you."

Despite herself, a small smile quirked Jamie's lips. She had briefly met Mrs. Grose on her way in, and could tell right away that she would get on well with the housekeeper.

If she got the job, which didn't look likely in that moment.

"So you see," Charlotte continued. "I knew straight away when you walked in that I would hire you, and I'm not one to distrust my gut feelings."

"I understand, Lady Wingrave, I-" Jamie stopped. "Wait, I'm sorry?"

"Jamie," Charlotte said patiently. "Will you be able to care for the garden and grounds of Bly Manor?"

"Yes," Jamie said, hardly daring to breathe.

"Then that's all I need to know," Charlotte smiled at her. "Your reference from your former employer is impeccable, and the experience you outlined in your cover letter lends me the utmost confidence that you are the perfect candidate for the gardener position. When can you start?"

"I-" Jamie's brain stuttered. She swallowed. "When do you need me, ma'am?"

"Right away, if possible," Charlotte said, standing up and smoothing down her skirt. "Of course, you're still living in London, I take it? You can stay in one of the rooms here until you find your own place. Don't worry, I'll help you."

"Thank you," Jamie stood up as well, eyes wide, hardly daring to believe what had just happened. "Ma'am, I -"

"Your past is your past, Jamie," Charlotte said. "Let's live in the present, shall we?"

She held out her hand to shake again, and Jamie took it, beaming from ear to ear. But when she went to drop the hand, Charlotte didn't let go.

"Uh, Lady Win-"

The words died in Jamie's throat, replaced with a strangled gasp. Charlotte Wingrave had disappeared, and instead, a monster stood in front of her. A woman, in a white nightdress, dripping wet from head to toe, her long dark hair hanging like weeds over her shoulders. And her face, her face-

She had no face. No eyes. No nose. Only a wide, gaping mouth.

Jamie tore her hand away, gasping, scrambling back, hitting the wall, as the creature stepped forward, hands reaching, reaching, reaching-

"Let's get out of here," a voice whispered in her ear. Jamie turned, finding herself inches from the blonde woman she thought she'd seen earlier, a grin on her lips, blue eyes twinkling. The woman laced their fingers together, and tugged-

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

September 1987

"How the hell is it so hot?" Jamie whined, letting herself be pulled along the street. "I didn't think America would be this hot."

"You're a baby," Dani said. "A giant baby. I can't believe how much of a baby you're being."

"I miss the rain," Jamie said.

"You hate the rain."

"Do not. Rain is lovely. Waters the plants for me. Gives me a nice break."

Dani laughed, and Jamie grinned. That was the best sound in the world, right there. Dani Clayton's laugh. She could spend the rest of her life making Dani laugh.

With that thought, she tugged on Dani's hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Jamie," Dani started, voice threatening annoyance. But she was smiling as Jamie pulled her in, kissing her soundly and sliding her fingers through blonde hair. Dani let out a happy sigh, other hand landing on Jamie's hip, pulling her closer-

"Fuckin' Dykes!"

The shout came from a passing car, and Jamie tore herself away from Dani to flip them off and yell some obscenity back. Dani shook her head, scowling.

"It's not worth it, Jamie," she said dully.

"So much for San Francisco being gay friendly," Jamie grumbled, as the two started walking again.

"There's always gonna be assholes," Dani told her. She took Jamie's hand again, slotting her fingers together like they'd been doing it all their lives, not just a couple of months. "But come on, we've faced down ghosts. Homophobes've got nothing."

"I'd still like to punch their lights out," Jamie said, glaring in the direction of the car. But she hadn't missed the quip about Bly Manor. Were they really at a point where they could joke about it?

She didn't get a chance to ask, though, because suddenly Dani was pulling her along again, their leisurely stroll turning into a brisk clip. Jamie let herself be led, content to watch Dani's hair flutter in the breeze, Dani's earrings glint in the sunlight, Dani's ass swaying in her jeans-

"Here we are!"

Without Jamie noticing, lovestruck as she was, they had gone through a parking lot and over sand dunes, and now the deep, white-capped blue of the Pacific Ocean stretched out in front of them, with no end in sight.

"Oh," Jamie breathed. "Oh, wow."

This time it was her leading the way, Dani trailing behind her, their hands still clasped together loosely. Jamie had never seen the Pacific before; had grown up with the Atlantic in driving distance, but hadn't had a real reason to spend much time there. She had always been anchored to the earth, never the sea, but the vast expanse before her took her breath away. It was all part of the natural world that Jamie loved, that she surrounded herself with and took care of. Just a different part.

"Poppins," Jamie said, unable to keep the awe from her voice. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," Dani said, sounding strangely far away, and Jamie knew if she turned her head, she would see Dani gazing at her adoringly, like a scene out of a bad romance movie. And once upon a time, she had. She had turned her head, had met Dani's gaze, had pulled her forwards and nearly kissed her, but stopped at the last minute, remembering the shout from the street. Had instead turned on her heel and raced down towards the water, dragging a laughing Dani behind her, and plunged in, not caring they were in their clothes, trying to wash away a memory of another plunge into cold water.

She knew she had done all of that, once. She could taste the salt on her tongue, feel the chill of the water on her skin. But here, now, in this moment, her eyes had landed on something in the water, and her entire body had frozen, standing at the edge of the surf. The sun seemed to suddenly hide behind a cloud, and an ill wind whipped Jamie's curls around her head.

"Dani," she said. "Dani, do you see that?"

There was no answer. Jamie turned, only to find Dani gone. In fact, the beach was empty now. Jamie was alone.

Well. Not completely alone.

Slowly, she looked back at the water. The creature stood, waist-deep, eyeless face turned in her direction. It did not seem to notice the waves, or the wind that now gusted, and it did not move. Jamie fought the urge to run, terrified that any movement would cause the thing to come after her. Why was it here? Why was it just standing there? Why wasn't it at the bottom of that lake where it had dragged Dani-

Wait.

Unbidden, Jamie took a step forward. The water soaked her shoes immediately, washing up and over her ankles. Another step, and it was at the cuffs of her jeans now, shoes sinking into the sand. Another, and another, and another, until she was standing up to her knees, entire body trembling, staring at the The Lady in the Lake with wide eyes.

"I'm supposed to be doing something," Jamie said to her. "I'm here for a reason."

The Lady in the Lake said nothing.

"It's there, on the tip of my tongue." Jamie let out a frustrated breath. "At the back of my brain. Just-"

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

October 2000

Her clothes were still wet when she arrived back at the hotel room. She stripped them almost as soon as the door closed, and stumbled into the shower, standing under the spray and staring at the wall. She only turned it off when the water turned cold, and she was pretty sure there were no more tears in her eyes. She towelled herself off, and dug through the little overnight bag she'd thrown together haphazardly as she rushed out the door an eternity earlier.

Rushed out the door after Dani, who had been long gone by then.

She hadn't packed any sleep shorts in her hurry, so she threw on some underwear, and an old shirt. The scent of it hit her immediately, and a fresh wave of tears started to fall. It was an old shirt of Dani's. One she'd worn a million times, even after the armpits were getting a bit threadbare.

Dani, who was lying at the bottom of a lake.

She went through the motions of getting ready for bed. She didn't have a toothbrush, so she just rinsed her mouth out with water, and splashed her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror - red-eyed, pale-faced - and paused, staring. Hoping against hope that another face would appear. Like had happened so often back home, in their little apartment, when Dani looked in a mirror, or into water, or into a pane of glass. Maybe Jamie's cry in the lake had worked, and maybe instead of that monster she would see-

Just let me have this, Jamie thought, not taking her eyes off her own reflection. It's you, it's me, it's us. Let me have this, Dani.

But nothing appeared, and Jamie shut the light of the bathroom off, and climbed into bed.

She didn't sleep. To sleep meant two things. First, it meant waking up again, into another day in a world where Dani wasn't. Where Jamie was just expected to keep living her life without her wife by her side. What would she even do? Go home? To their little apartment filled with memories? To the flower shop? Keep living the little life they had built together? Alone?

How could she be expected to do that?

Sleep also meant dreams, and Jamie was possibly more frightened of that than waking up. Dreaming could mean seeing Dani again, whether alive and happy, or dead, staring at her with lifeless eyes at the bottom of a lake. Neither option was appealing in the slightest, so Jamie lay awake, staring at the clock as it ticked towards midnight.

She deemed 5 o'clock in the morning as good a time as any to wake up. Or at least, get out of bed, as waking up implied she had slept at all. She supposed she would go to the airport, and get on a plane back to Vermont, decide what to do from there. Dani would want her to keep going.

It was as she mechanically got ready to leave that she found it. Dani's note, folded up with her passport, thrown in her bag along with anything else she thought she might need. It had fallen out when she changed, and for a moment, Jamie just gazed at it. Then, she knelt down, and opened it with trembling fingers, reading the last words Dani had left her.

Jamie,

The beast has come for me. Viola is calling, and I have to answer, or I don't know what could happen. I can't risk that anything would happen to you, my most important person. I love you. I'm so sorry.

Dani

If only she had woken up. If only she had stopped her. Convinced her that it was ok, that they would figure it out together. If only she had been able to figure out a solution before Viola took her. If only Owen had driven a little faster that night, thirteen years ago. If only she had run a little faster towards the lake. If only she had stayed the night when Dani asked. If only, if only, if -

Viola?

Jamie frowned as she scanned the note, the name standing out to her as strange, unknown. Viola? Who was Viola? Where had that come from?

Water dripped on the carpet in front of her. Jamie found herself looking at mud-covered feet, eyes tracing a soaking wet nightdress up until they reached the face - that terrible, terrible face.

She felt like she should scream. Scream and run from the room. Or better yet, attack the monster and hope she could get a few good licks in before it dragged her down too.

But she didn't.

Jamie stood slowly, hand still clutching the note, staring at the creature in front of her. The creature did nothing. Simply stood, as though waiting for Jamie to make the first move.

And so, Jamie did.

"Viola?"

#the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #dani clayton #jamie #jamie the gardener #bly manor #heather writes fanfiction #this doesn't happen often so like have fun guys

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denouxments · 6 years

Text

dove cameron. demigirl. she/her or they/them. — did you see { charlotte hart }, i haven’t seen the { twenty-one } year old in a while! you know, they’re { unemployed }, and have been living in jersey city for { five weeks }. some say they’re { innapropriate & careless }, but i think they’re { inventive & forthright }. regardless, i’m glad { lotte } is here.

backstory

here they come ! it’s lotte !! you can find their dossier page HERE, their biography is a wip that you can find HERE, and there is a pinterest board for them HERE ( please ignore the different name and the pics of josefine & nina & nastya i’m using the alt ver of that oc alskjdflkasdfj its a long story ).

they identify as a demigirl so if i alternate between they/them and she/her a lot, that’s why. i tend to write she/her naturally but please don’t let that override their identity, thank you !

grew up in the shitty foster care system, but mostly stuck around the colorado springs area

especially because nobody ever wanted to foster her rip

i can’t blame em tbh, she was a nasty lil snot to adults ( still is )

also she can’t remember jack shit from before she was 8 years old. earliest memory she has is of the foster hub. she has a name but not history, but whatever it was must’ve fucked her up to the point where she just gets migraines trying to remember. it bothers her sometimes, but she’s learned to be content with the fact that she’ll never know

honestly kind of inspired by little orphan annie laksdfjsakdjf did shitty things on the streets to take care of the younger kids since the adults around certainly weren’t doing shite

sang them lullabies too. very orphan annie. plz don’t @ me skdfja

became adept at pickpocketing and charming her way into things during this time

on top of stealing and cheating for food and money, she also worked odd jobs when she could growing up. she really enjoyed mowing lawns for the rich folks that had just enough of a bleeding heart to give her a fiver for a few hours of her time. it was through this actually that she met the closest thing to a family she ever had

he was a rich prick, and at the time she was a crybaby who verbally attacked others before they could attack her, so great fit, right ? she never would have gone back to that house if not for the fact that they paid really well and that his little sister was cool as heck. it took time, but eventually they were a trio just hanging out in the treehouse out back. she taught him how to not be such a bully to everyone and he showed her how to not let things get to her so personally. it was good. they were family.

and then she left without so much as a goodbye ( leaving was always easier if you didn’t say goodbye ). not a whole lot of options for a foster kid after you turn 18, so she threw herself into the military as it seemed like her best option. she did decently well and spent 2 years in the navy until a cardiovascular disease left her on the outs and she was sent back to square one.

this time she chose to say fuck it and just make it on her own she still hadn’t spoken to her friends, and at this point she was too afraid to try. instead she stole a car and just drove. drove and drove and drove.

she stopped sometimes; she kind of had to, but everywhere she stopped she made sure to leave an impact. she was quite the character to whoever she met wherever she met them, and she was gone just as quick as she had come ( just with a few more wallets and stolen trinkets asdfljad ).

her roadtrip of juvenile crime finally brought her to the atlantic coastline of new jersey. she finally had nowhere else to go, so now she’s taking rest in jersey city ( sleeping out of stolen car #8, mind you ) while she figures out what the fuck is next ! the last thing she wants to do is go back home, but she doesn’t have the funds to cross the ocean or either country’s border, so its a little messy right now ! she’s a little messy though, so she’ll figure out. she’s been lucky so far, so she’ll luck out this time, surely !

spoiler alert, she won’t

personality

a GREMLIN. just a straight up gremlin. loves to pull pranks and say things that will cause a stir and/or get everyone in the room blushing

that said she is all bark and no bite . . . for the most part

honest to a fault, but at least you can rely on her to tell you if you look like a gutter rat or not

just. does. things. literally fuck all the consequences. if it is fun, its worth whatever life-ruiner happens along with it.

doesn’t do things unless a good time is involved or she gets something out of it, to be honest

5′2″ but she’ll kick your ass

no respect for authority whatsoever. it is a p r o b l e m

likes to sing ! her voice claim is nina nesbitt ! she isn’t doing anything with this talent though outside of busking when she’s real desperate for cash or too lazy to steal

really driven when she actually wants something

still a crybaby deep, deep down ! if something or someone hurts her feelings she’ll camp out in her car for 2 days straight because she doesn’t want anyone to ever see her cry

honestly hates anyone that picks on the little people

lowkey a hopeless romantic. honestly has yet to lose her virginity because a) she wants to do this shit RIGHT. she wants to be WOO’d and b) all bark. no bite. no follow through. ever. she chickens out

would 100% rob a bank if you asked her too ( and tbh she may have even tried to before )

sticky fingers. don’t let them into your home. she’ll steal something that she thinks wouldn’t be missed

refuses to steal from those that are in need of everything they’ve got. she’s got a bit of a robin hood complex t b h

meme queen reign supreme

i honestly can’t take this intro post seriously because its hard to take THEM seriously

if you take her seriously you’re making a big miss steak sfdkjasfd

chaotic stupid with some massive dumbass bitch energy

“ i’ll go to a hospital when i’m DEAD ”

connections

their childhood friends would be cool. it’d be a major coinkidink, but oh imagine the drama !

maybe i’ll even make a wc for em

anyone they met while on the road !

maybe she was the “ one that got away ” for one or two people idk !

people she’s stolen from

people she’s crashed with

partners in crime ( figuratively )

partners in crime ( literally )

enemies !! or just people that she really rubs the wrong way ( its real easy for her to do that. don’t be afraid to hate her ! she’s a fun enemy )

prank buddies !!

someone who has an unrequited crush on her ? or maybe she has an unrequited crush on someone ? the scandal !!

someone who, like, wants to help her out but she keeps denying the help because she’s too #proud

all the things. all of them. gimme gimme.

#jrsy.intro #so what we're not gonna do is call libby out for being late w/ the intro right?#alskfjalsdfj #also here is my baby of 11 years i would die for them

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docrotten · 6 years

Text

The Inaugural Gruesome Magazine Awards on Horror News Radio eps 313

Netflix makes our day with the announcement of Mike Flanagan's THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR. Christopher shares another round of WiHM recommendations. And, the Grue-Crew reveals the results of The Inaugural Gruesome Magazine Horror Movie Awards. Join Dave Dreher, Doc Rotten, Christopher G. Moore, and Vanessa Thompson as we discuss Horror News of the Week and review the latest horror offerings.

As always, the HNR Grue-Crew would love to hear from you! Reach out via email at feedback(AT)horrornewsradio(DOT)com. Also, please like us on Facebook and join the Horror News Radio Facebook Group.

Horror News Radio Episode 313 - The Inaugural Gruesome Magazine Horror Movie Awards Subscribe – iTunes – Facebook – Stitcher

ANNOUNCEMENTS

NEVERMORE FILM FESTIVAL March 8-10, 2019 Durham NC http://www.carolinatheatre.org/films/festivals/nevermore

MONSTERPALOOZA - April 12-14, 2019 - Pasadena, CA (Christopher) http://www.monsterpalooza.com/spring/

CRIMSON SCREEN HORROR FILM FESTIVAL May 24-26, 2019 Charleston SC http://www.crimsonscreenfilmfest.org/

DAYS OF THE DEAD CHARLOTTE September 27-29, 2019 Charlotte, NC https://www.facebook.com/events/1854105538214750/

NIGHTMARES FILM FESTIVAL October 24 - 27, 2019 Columbus, OH http://www.nightmaresfest.com/

HORROR NEWS OF THE WEEK

[TRAILER] Netflix teases THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR for 2020 https://gruesomemagazine.com/2019/02/24/netflix-announces-that-mike-flanagan-will-haunt-a-second-season/

[TRAILER] CBS All Access drops a full trailer for THE TWILIGHT ZONE https://bloody-disgusting.com/tv/3547862/lots-episode-footage-revealed-trailer-jordan-peeles-twilight-zone-reboot/

[TRAILER] A new terrifying anthology with THE FIELD GUIDE TO EVIL https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvbR3q1dDAs

[BOOKS] Tom Savini teases massive photo career retrospective https://bloody-disgusting.com/books/3548177/tom-savini-coffee-table-photo-biography-book-coming-soon/

[TV] WB looking to bring the GREMLINS back home via an animated series https://variety.com/2019/tv/news/gremlins-animated-series-warnermedia-1203146742/

[WTF] Peter Weller and ROBOCOP are pimping KFC? https://gruesomemagazine.com/2019/02/24/new-kfc-spots-demand-you-eat-some-chicken-and-you-will-comply/

[WTF] THE BANANA SPLITS reboots as a… horror film?https://www.comettv.com/2019/02/hanna-barberas-banana-splits-are-getting-a-horror-movie-reboot/

FEATURE TOPIC: The Inaugural Gruesome Magazine Horror Movie Awards

Best Horror Film

A Quiet Place

Anna and the Apocalypse

The Endless

Halloween

Hereditary - WINNER

Mandy

Overlord

Revenge

Suspiria

The Ritual

Best Unreleased Film Festival Favorite

Alive

Book of Monsters - WINNER

Cannibals and Carpetfitters

Livescream

The Night Sitter

Nightmare Cinema

Best Foreign Language Film

Ghonjiam: Haunted Asylum - South Korea, d. Jung Bum-shik

May the Devil Take You - Indonesia, d. Timo Tjanjanto

Night of the Virgin - Spain, d. Roberto San Sebastian

Satan's Slaves - Indonesia, d. Joko Answar

Terrified - Argentina, d. Demian Rugna (runner up by 1 point)

Veronica - Spain, d. Paco Plaza - WINNER (by 1 point)

Best Director

John Krasinski - A Quiet Place - WINNER

Ari Aster - Hereditary

Timo Tjahjanto - May the Devil Take You

Panos Cosmotos - Mandy

Julius Avery - Overlord

Coralie Fargeat - Revenge

Best Lead Actor

John Krasinski - A Quiet Place

Dan Stevens - Apostle

Martin Freeman - Cargo

Nicolas Cage - Mandy - WINNER

Jovan Adepo - Overlord

Logan Marshall-Green - Upgrade

Best Lead Actress

Emily Blunt - A Quiet Place

Madeline Brewer - CAM

Toni Collette - Hereditary - WINNER

Jamie Lee Curtis - Halloween

Matilda Anna Ingred Lutz - Revenge

Brittany Allen – What Keeps You Alive

Best Supporting Actor

Michael Sheen - Apostle

Dylan McDermott – The Clovehitch Killer - WINNER

Corey Feldman - Corbin Nash

Wyatt Russell - Overlord

Vincent Columbe - Revenge

Anton Yelchin - Thoroughbreds

Best Supporting Actress

Millicent Simmonds - A Quiet Place - WINNER

Milly Shapiro - Hereditary

Andrea Risenborough - Mandy

Tilda Swinton - Suspiria

Anna Taylor-Joy - Thoroughbreds

Hannah Emily Anderson – What Keeps You Alive

Best TV Show

Ash vs Evil Dead

Castlevania

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

The Haunting of Hill House - WINNER

The Terror

The Walking Dead

Most Gruesome Death

Ash vs Evil Dead - The Harp Kill

Hereditary - Charlie Loses Her Head

Leprechaun Returns - The Solar Panel of Death

Mandy - Mandy. Poor, Poor Mandy.

Suspiria - Olga Turns Into a Human Pretzel

Terrifier - Art the Clown Saws Dawn in Half - WINNER

Most Ghastly Creature

A Quiet Place - Blind Aliens

Annihilation - Screaming Mutant Bear

The Haunting of Hill House - The Bent-Neck Lady

Mandy - The Black Skulls (Hellbikers)

Overlord - Captain Wafner, Undead Nazi Zombie

The Ritual - Modor, the Creature in the Forest - WINNER

Most Vile Villain

Halloween - Michael Myers

The House That Jack Built - Jack

Leprechaun Returns - Leprechaun

The Nun - The Nun

Terrifier - Art the Clown - WINNER

The Ranger - The Ranger

Most Startling Scare

A Quiet Place - The Bath Tub Scene

Annihilation - The Attack of the Screaming Bear

The Haunting of Hill House - The Scream of the Bent-Neck Lady

Hereditary - Annie Sawing At Her Throat - WINNER

Terrified - Bloodied Woman Levitates in Bathtub

The Ritual - The Screaming Corpses in the Attic

Most What-The-Fuckulus Moment (The Black Saint Award)

Ash vs the Evil Dead - The Baby Brawl | Up One Way, Out the Other - WINNER

Hereditary - The Death of Charlie Graham

Night of the Virgin - Sphincter Splatter, Nico Gives Birth

Puppet Master: The Littlest Reich - The Bloody Birth

Suspiria - Mother Suspiriorum Slaughters the Coven

Terrifier - Art Eats Vicky's Face

Most Captivating Decapitation

Anna and the Apocalypse - Frosty the Zombie Snow Man

Halloween - Cop-a-Lantern

Hereditary - Charlie meet pole, pole meet Charlie - WINNER

Leprechaun Returns - Death by Drone

May the Devil Take You - Ruben Blows His Top

Terrifier - Exterminate the Exterminator

Most Innovative Tool of Death

Anna and the Apocalypse - Candy Cane Zombie Smasher

Apostle - The Heathen's Stand

Leprechaun Returns - The Sprinklers

Mandy - Red's Custom Battle Ax - WINNER

Puppet Master: The Littlest Reich - Toulon's Puppets

You Might Be the Killer - Sam's Bone Blade

Most Terrifying Transportation

Ash vs Evil Dead - Ash's Oldsmobile Delta 88 (1973) - Post Apocalyptic Version - WINNER

The Cloverfield Paradox - Cloverfield Station

The Haunting of Hill House - The Bent-Neck Lady's Thrill Ride

The Meg - The Water Walking Ball of Doom

Strangers: Prey at Night - The Strangers' Truck on Fire

The Toy Box - The Killer RV

Most Ferocious Final Girl

Leprechaun Returns - Lila (Taylor Spreitler)

May the Devil Take You - Alfie (Chelsea Islan)

The Ranger - Chelsea (Chloe Levine)

Revenge - Jennifer (Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz) - WINNER

Terrifier - Tara (Jenna Kanell)

What Keeps You Alive - Jules (Brittany Allen)

Most Horrifying Abode

The Haunting of Hill House - Hill House - WINNER

The House With a Clock In Its Walls - The Izard Mansion

Insidious: The Final Key - The Rainer Home

The Nun - Saint Cartha's Monastery

Winchester - The Winchester Mansion

The Witch in the Window - Lydia's Farmhouse

Best Film Festival

Brooklyn Horror Film Festival

Buried Alive Film Fest

Crimson Screen Horror Film Festival

GenreBlast Film Festival

Horrible Imaginings Film Festival

Fantasia Film Festival

Fantastic Fest

Frightfest - WINNER

Knoxville Horror Film Festival

Nevermore Film Festival

Nightmares Film Festival

NYC Horror Film Festival

Overlook Film Festival

Popcorn Frights Film Festival

Screamfest

Spooky Movie International Film Festival

Stiges

Telluride

Toronto After Dark Film Festival

Women in Horror Film Festival

Wreak Havoc Horror Film Festival

Best Short Horror Film

Belladonna - d. Brett Mullen

Brace Face - d. Jonathan Holbrook, Elena Stecca

Cecilia - d. Liz Tabish

Hana - d. Mai Nakanishi

Heartless - d. Kevin Sluder

Kiss the Devil in the Dark - d. Thomas Martin, Rebecca Martin

Latched - d. Justin Harding

Lay Them Straight - d. Robert Deleskie

Lunch Ladies - d. J. M. Morgan and Clarissa Jacobson - WINNER

Maw - d. Jasper Vrancken

My Monster - d. Izzy Lee

Sarah's Dream - d. Wendy Keeling

Scarlet Vultures - d. Kyle Martellaci

The Whistler - d. Jennifer Nicole Stang

Young Liars - d. Adam Christy

Catcalls - d. Kate Dolan

The Daughters of Virtue - d. Michael Escobedo

Devorame - d. Helena Aquilera

Good Morning - d. Elaine Morgeon

Kichkandi - d. Eelum Dixit

Keep the Gaslight Burning - d. Dave and Lou Elsey

Keloid - d. Brendan Pollecutt

Murder for Dummies - d. Diona Oku

Supine - d. Nicole Goode

We Summoned a Demon - d. Chris Mcinroy

What Metal Girls Are Into - d. Laurel Vail

Best Horror Convention

Chiller Theater

Flashback Weekend

HorrorHound Weekend

Days of the Dead - WINNER

Mad Monster Party

Monster-Mania

Monsterpalooza

Scares That Care Weekend

Spooky Empire

Texas Frightmare

SUPPORT HNR:

THIS MONTH ON PATREON http://horrornewsradio.com/patreon

HNR T-SHIRTS http://horrornewsradio.com/tees

WiHM: RECOMMENDATIONS

Lois Weber American Psycho - Mary Harron Honeymoon - Leigh Janiak

FEEDBACK: [email protected]

EXIT

Thanks to Rocky Gray for our killer new HNR theme song Next Week on HNR: Greta

Check out this episode!

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topsolarpanels · 7 years

Text

Know Your Enemy: Celebrating 50 Years of the Forever War

Robert Sammelin

No one drank more than the scientist. Every night, after whatever patriotic black-tie gala marriage played props at, he could be found at the hotel bar, trying to extract existential meaning from a banana colada. It was an odd drinking of option for such a serious human, but only once did he respond to our interrogations about it.

It pleases the nerve fibers, he said, all baritone to his voice, before disappearing into the chilled yellow muck again. We were in New Tulsa, debriefing after a grueling dinner with a bunch of white-haired solar energy exec. Wed been on the road for months, and morale used to go the way of the glacier. I ordered a round for the table, and we toasted to the hustle. Heroes of the nation, peddling war bonds by day, drinking like froufrous by night. Our drill instructor would not have been proud.

Maybe it wasnt New Tulsa. Maybe itd been in Charlotte after the fund-raiser with the nanofinance douchebags. Anyhow.

There were 11 of us on the bond drive, 12 if you included the JngerBot. The Forever War had just entered its sixth decade, and our politicians didnt pretend they were going to end it anymore, even during elections. They couldnt. Wed tried everything: nation-building, nation-destroying, sending terrorists and their families to the Mars penal colony, sending the rebel Young Siberians to actual Siberia. Nothing had worked. We were at war because we always had been. We were at war because we always would be. We were at war because we were at war.

Matt Gallagher

About

Matt Gallagher is the author of the novel Youngblood and the Iraq memoir Kaboom: Embracing the Suck in a Savage Little War.

The government decided to celebrate the Forever Wars golden anniversary with loud, shiny bombast. We were part of that bombast. AMERICAS HEROES, TOGETHER AT LAST, ran the tagline. We were like a roving assortment act, but without name recognition or singing or sex appeal. Without anything, truly. Just pasts wiped clean with the antiseptic of narrative. So we stood there and smiled and waved while other people told our tales to the crowds. The crowd cheered. We waved again.

After the coladas, I settled the tab and excused myself. The younger veterinarians night was just beginning, but mine was nearing its end. In the queue for the teleporter to the rooms, a human about my age waited behind me. He wore a rumpled dress shirt and an overlong tie-in and a goatee on the brink of coherence.

He was looking everywhere but my hoverchair. People with legs always do that. It reminds me of the route some men used to try very hard not to look at my cleavage when I was younger. The endeavor simply underlines the fixation.

Thank you, he said. For what you did.

Thank you for your supporting, I told, a answer as hollow as it was practiced. He mustve been at the event earlier.

Cancan I tell you something?

Sure, I told. Women in military uniforms have this impact on men in dress shirts, for some reason. If youd like to.

I wanted to be a recon marine when I was a kid. He said it like it was a church confession, something hidden away in the lost rifts of his soul for decades. Did the recon workout at the gym for years, he continued. Stupid, I know.

I nodded, both because it was stupid and because I knew.

Youre a bona fide hero. The men segue was as graceful as a startled dog, but it was late. That scientist, though. Hes killing people. And not only the enemy.

I thought about “the mens” words. They were true enough. So what would you do? I asked. If you were him.

Me? The man stroked his goatee. I wouldnt even know.

Pragmatically, I told. Youre the scientist. You live in this country. The wars happening. You can perhaps aim it or not. Either style, people succumb. What do you do?

II object to the question. And to the idea. Im not him. The human voice had a quiver to it now. Not an angry quiver, either. A frightened one. I was just sayingI dont think its right. Thats all.

OK, I said. Night. It was my turning at the teleporter. I get in and went to my room. I didnt begrudge the man his opting out. We all had in some manner. Even us.

Especially us.

The Federals had discovered me at my sisters, on the porch, scrolling through a holopad article about the rabid lemur thatd killed Justin Bieber Jr. Furious George Howls With Delight! read the headline. Its always spooky when sons succumb the same way their fathers did. The past comprehend us all, eventually. Even Biebers.

I was on my seventh year of an indefinite visit, still sleeping in a bare guest room. A potted flower or framed scene would have felt like marks of permanence, somehow. Id been living in increments since high school and wasnt about to stop simply because I couldnt figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

Theywell, welived at the top of a windy mound in a suburbium of a suburbium, wedged between a stand of wild honeysuckle and a pond shaped like a swollen snout. It was green and quiet. The kind of place where big flags hung from porches with humility. I taught painting at the community center and took my nieces to soccer practice and spend my Saturday nights at the one townie bar that served ros.

The life didnt induce me happy or anything, but it could have. Maybe should have.

There were three of them. They all wore jeans and plaid shirts of differing blandness. Id have expected suits and black sunglasses, but the decay effects of after-empire were reaching and vast.

Chief Warrant Officer Valerie Speer? one said. Well, asked. I didnt look my part, either. Female veterinarians tend to cut a certain mold. A liter-sized gremlin in a gardening hat wasnt it.

They told me about the bond drive. About how it would inspire patriotism again in the hearts and minds of the person or persons. About how it would get everyday citizens invested in the wars again.( Like they ever were. I knew the history .) About how the governmental forces needed the money, how 50 years of blowing up things in strange, faraway places had taken its toll on the budget, especially since the geothermal insurgency in Blue Russia began eating away at Uncle sam foreign trade.

About how the bond drive needed a woman on it, because they had an old guy, a blexican, a mexipino, and a robot, and showing that heroes were as diverse as the country mattered.

I laughed. A female. I danced my metal fingers through the air. In the right sun my prosthetics could look like flesh. We werent in it. Thats why you need me.

That made the two men in jeans and plaid look down at the ground, but the woman Fed just stared at me.

Youre Valerie Speer, she said. The tone in her voice sounded so earnest it snapped. Do you know what you mean to my generation of status of women? I joined the agency because of you.

She was lying about that, I was almost sure. But shed appealed to my pride. I danced my fingers through the air again and took in all the green, all the quiet. Seven years here. Seven years that had induced me soft. Did people my age go on escapades anymore?

I requested information about financial compensation.

Heres the thing about being labeled a war hero: You either love it or hate it. Theres little space for mixed impressions. Take the scientist. Invented a drone mosquito that gives people the runs, sold it to the military, and stopped the Arabican conflict practically overnight. You cant fire a rifle when youre crapping out your brains. But some of the mosquitoes werent as specific as billed. During strafes, they bit foes and civilians alike. Which wouldnt have mattered much had we been fighting in the developed world. We werent, though. Outbreaks of dysentery and super-cholera followed, and the last UN estimate I watched numbered deaths in the tens of thousands.

The bond drive needed a woman on it. They already had an old guy, a blexican, a mexipino, and a robot.

The scientist had ended a war all with his mind. Yet the only thing he wanted in the world was to return to his lab, to his anonymity, and forget any of it ever happened.

The JngerBot seemed to resent the attention for other reasons. It didnt know what to induce of people, and truth be told, people didnt know what to attain of it. They could handle robots, had been dealing with them all their lives. Even the rough-and-tumble behaviour of a regular InfantryBot could be explained away. But an elite InfantryBot 5000 upgraded with the transcendental heroism and philosophical musings of decorated German World War I soldier Ernst Jnger? That caused some issues.

The anarch wages his own wars, the JngerBot said at a fund-raiser to a journalist whod would like to know whether it missed battle. Even when marching in rank and file.

Before a boxing prizefight, the JngerBot felt it necessary to remind the crowd what was what. Furrow opposing is the bloodiest, wildest, most brutal of all, it said to 70,000 drunk revelers in Vegas. Of all the wars exciting moments , none is so powerful as the session of two cyclone troop leaders between narrow trench walls. Theres no compassion there , no going back. The blood speaks from a shrill exclaim of recognition that tears itself from ones breast like a nightmare.

And then there were the children.

It told a 10 -year old with a JngerBot poster on his wall that killing an adversary would be a finer tribute. And when a bank presidents “girls ” pointed to us and asked if we were heroes, the JngerBot objected as only it could TAGEND

Heroes deeds and heroes graves, it said. Old and new you here may assure. How the Empire was created. How the Empire was preserved. It paused. We sought the death of heroes. There is no lovelier demise in the world.

The little girls face paled to glass as her father resulted her away. We all laughed about it , no one harder or longer than Dizzy. Dizzy was a walking, talking debate for breeding the remaining cis-males out of the gene pool, if only he hadnt been so pretty. Drone pilots. They think theyre so starfish because they can laser insurrectionists dead from space. And Dizzy was an superstar. He adored every minute of the bond drive, “members attention”, the parties, the hoverfloat rides, the certain type of female patriot who wanted to see the view from his hotel balcony. Beats going back to Pueblo and coaching CrossFit, hed tell, before unleashing that smile of full, fluoride shine. God, he could charm the sorcery underwear off a Mormon.

Would try, at least.

Hed earned the Silver Star in the Iraq war. Well, the Iraq war before the last one. Maybe it was three Iraq wars ago.

Dizzy and the younger vets on the bond drive are always privateersmercenaries if youre the protest, virtual-petition kind. WarriorCorps and Foreign Legion Inc. and Armed Humanitarianism Limited and the like. I was hybrid: part contractor but also part national military, before that ran extinct during the Whig Revolt of 36. Merely Emo Carlos was old enough to have been GI from beginning to end. Hed earned the Silver Star in the Iraq war. Well, the Iraq war before the last one. Perhaps it was three Iraq wars ago. Anyhow. We asked Emo Carlos about it over sushi, after a parade in Cleveland.

Jumped on a grenade at a checkpoint, he told, defining down his chopsticks with a shrug. Didnt go off.

We hollered and banged the table just because we could. Itd been a couple decades since anything but a bot had been close enough to a grenade to do anything like that. Even the JngerBot conveyed its admiration.

Defective? I asked.

Emo Carlos nodded. One in a million, they said.

What happened then? Dizzy asked.

The creases in Emo Carlos forehead folded into one another like papier-mch. He usually never talked about anything but drumming for his old-man punk band. Theyd served together back in the day and were known across the greater Rochester area as the Infidels. Geriatric humor.

Stood up, he said. Dusted off. Looked down. Realise Id pissed myself.

We hollered and banged the table all over again.

An elderly couple came over to us subsequently. Theyd overheard our conversation and wanted to say thank you. They said they had two grandsons in privateer training.

I know our thanks is a small thing, the spouse said. He and his wife looked so cute in their nice old-people clothes, khakis and sweaters and thick-rimmed glasses. They looked like other peoples grandparents always look. But sometimes its all those of us here can offer.

The wife nodded. Were all involved, she told. We believe that. As taxpayers, as citizens, thats how it is. Were with you.

We thanked them for thanking us and they left the restaurant.

What did she mean, Were all involved? Dizzy asked. No theyre not.

There were echoes of agreement and deliberation over what the old woman had meant, and not just about the word involved . Also about the word we .

Yo, Emo Carlos told. The table hushed. Theyre from my hour. When wars had objectives. When citizens tried to keep up. America used to be young. Thats what she meant.

Then say that, Dizzy told. Taxes? Who the fucking cares.

Emo Carlos shook his head again. He was trying to clear himself of frustrations, either with himself or with us. Then he pointed at me. Sent her to the damn moon. Supposed to save us all, putting the wars up there. Preserve the land and resources, remove civilian demises. Be tidy and simple. That was the plan.

And no one ever went back, Dizzy told. The game changed.

Well. Emo Carlos giggled. Military lesson numero uno, son, he said. No plan survives first contact.

The rest of us chuckled along with the old wisdom. Everyone but the scientist, who sat off by himself in the corner. He looked up at us with something between sadness and ferocity. It was hard to decide which.

Tidy and simple, he said. I like that.

When my nieces turn 12 and gain access to FreedomNet, they will find these three paragraphs about their aunt, etched into the digital histories forever and ever TAGEND Valerie Jade Speer( born May 2, 2011) was a chief warrant officer( air) and assault pilot in the United States Army and later the privateer organization Star Spangled Security. She was awarded the Star of Valor in 2042 for her actions during the Battle on the Moon, of which she was the only survivor . Deployed to the moon as part of the NATO coalition during the course of its South Seas dispute, Speer flew a Flying Yeager fusion helocraft during the battle, destroying five Chinese Federation space-helos and two Young Siberian cosmo-planes. Struck by an enemy dwarf ballistic, Speer crash-landed into the Titius Crater. She was thus sheltered from the amaze thermonuclear strike carried out by the Young Siberians that killed all other fighters and blew the hole in the moon now known as Putins Smile . Initially presumed dead, Speer was found during NATO recovery operations two days after the end of the combat. She lost three extremities, suffered burns over much of her body, and survived over 90 surgeries. President Natasha Obama told Speers life and narrative are a testament to the American spirit at her Star of Valor ceremony at the White House .

Words can be funny beasts. Her actions suggest some sort of agency, even control. Destroy is such a clean term for such messiness. Struck by defied my memory of it. Same with crash-landed.

Less so with lost. And suffered.

Testament. As if enduring were a selection. I did what anyone would have. There are no atheists in moon craters. And there are no fatalists in survivor wards of one.

I was thinking about that ward as I zipped up my suitcase in my sisters guest room for the bond drive. Thinking about the long stills of quiet during the nights. Guessing about being “ve called the” Burn by nurses who guessed I couldnt hear them. Supposing about the full-thickness graft done without anesthesia.

You sure about this, Val? My sister stood in the doorway. Her posture betrayed opposition. She was four years older and had always asked me questions that she already had answers for. You have options.

Shed said the same years prior, before Id left for the moon.

I am, I told both times, even though I wasnt both days. Id always detected power and resolve in ambiguity, though. Most people werent like that. My sister, for one.

Youve done more than your share, she continued, moving to the bed and putting her arm around my shoulder. So much more. I leaned my head into her and tried to hold in some of the familial warmth. Id miss it, I knew. Only sisters and nieces hug people like me. I dont think its right.

I smiled at that.

Its not, I told. But. If not me, then who?

Even running can be its own form of opting out. I didnt know that the first time. But I did the second. The last night in the guest room, as I tossed and turned in bed, I thought about that. Then I thought about the survivor ward again. And the long stills of quiet during the nights. And being “ve called the” Burn. And the graft.

Somewhere between Omaha and Tesla City, I began to realize just how different the younger vets were. It wasnt simply that they were privateers, either, or that they called adversary combatants pixels as an insult. Dizzy and his crew, they crowed about their service. Owned their superiority, then basked in it.

Do soldiers think theyre better than citizens? Of course. It has nothing to do with what did or didnt happen in their service, either. It has to do with the very notion of joining up. Americas been at war since before most of us were born. We joined because we wanted to go. Wed been told we were special from day one of boot camp, doing something the rest of our nation couldnt. Or worse, wouldnt. Too fat. Too selfish. Too lazy. Which made the realization after we got out that citizens think were beneath them all the more shocking. If theyre fat, selfish, and lazy, then whats worse than that?

We werent supposed to say any of that, though. My generation didnt, at least. We were taught that part of our service was biding quiet about it. To rise above, because thats what Jesus and George Washington and Beyonc wouldve wanted.

Thats what I did. Or tried to, at the least. Let the citizenry think what it wants, ran the logic. All part of being a republic.

Maybe we had it incorrect, though.

I wondered about that the night the protester confronted us. We were in Washington for a gala. Ordinarily “were in” ushered in through side or back door for events, but the organizers of this one had us walking in on a red carpet, through a galaxy of flashing lightings and holographic cameras.

Finally, Dizzy told, pausing to adjust his bow affiliation and lick his front teeth. The treatment we deserve.

Why the protester chose the JngerBot to cream-pie, Ill never know. By the time the uproar had reached my ears and Id floated around in my chair, the JngerBot had the young man by the throat. Request order to remove home-front adversary, it said, which was funny, and then not.

We got the young man free of the JngerBots prongs. He was reed-thin and had thick brown curls with eyes as dark and mad as the moon. I didnt know what to think about him or his pie. People didnt protest war in person anymore. It wasnt sane behavior.

Youre not heroes, he told. His terms were shaky. Its never easy coming face to face with people youve demonized. Or cockpit to cockpit. Youre tools of empire. Fuck you. Fuck all of you.

The cameras along the walkway started popping off like mortars. We all only stood there, waiting out his denunciation, because we were there to be seen and applauded , nothing else. His anger dazed me, and the others too. Not Dizzy, though.

Get bent, joker, Dizzy told, intersecting his arms for the cameras. War is bad? No shit. But it wont go forth just cause we want it to. Last month, two brigades from the same base get deployed. One goes to Kurd Mountain, saves those households from the horde. The other goes to Blue Russia, blows up some insurrectionists. Ones a humanitarian mission. The others combat. Both involve destruction.

Id never heard Dizzy speak with eloquence and passion before. He was good, and he knew it. He pressed on.

This JngerBot is a goddamn national gem. I dont know what brought you here tonight, and I dont dedicate a single fucking. We went so you dont “re going to have to”. Suck my hero balls.

The arrogance. The entitlement. The narrowness of thought. I loved it all, and I wasnt the only one. The red carpet explosion with applause. Dizzy even took a bow. But the acclaim wasnt universal.

After the protester had been escorted away and wed run inside for the gala, the scientist saw Dizzy. Dont do that again, he said. He loomed over the younger human like an angry parent. That guy is not your adversary. Neither is anyone else youve met on this stupid tour.

He aint a friend. Dizzy was trying to sound unbothered, and he leaned back in his chair and set his feet on the table. So what is he?

Only morons speak in absolutes, the scientist said.

Dizzy changed tactics. You know what he likely thinks about you? he asked. What all these people say when they think we cant hear? I had a woman tell me she didnt think we were whole human beings. Fuck her, and fuck that protester. Fuck all of them.

I wondered what the answers were to Dizzys questionwhat did people say about us? When they thought about us at all. Beyond the pomp and rite of the bond drive, we werent anything, I supposed. Just ciphers with tales people believed in, or didnt believe in, even before they heard them.

So. What. The scientists voice turned to iron as he responded to Dizzy. Thats the job. We have consequences.

Dizzy opened his mouth, but the scientist cut him off. You did . You did when you didnt “re going to have to”. Thats enough. It has to be. Then he stormed off, presumably for the hotel bar.

The scientist opted out that night. The rest of us did too, by doing the job. We stood there and smiled and waved while other people told our stories to the crowds. The crowd cheered. We waved again.

We walked back to the hotel as a group after the jamboree. We stopped in a park with green lawns and a marble fountain and joked about the protester, giggled about the scientist. The scientist had been right, but so what? What did being right have to do with anything? Dizzy had regained whatever force-out it was that sustained him and began chatting up a pair of young women who considered themselves patriots. I watched it all and thought about the ward and then my sisters home. The JngerBot came up beside me.

You managed that pie well, I told it. It didnt say anything, so I continued. Waiting for an order, I mean.

Here is our kingdom, the best use of monarchies, the best republic, the JngerBot told. Here is our garden, our happiness.

What a random thing to tell, I thought. Even for a robot. But subsequently, after considering it more, I decided otherwise.

The Fiction Issue

Tales From an Uncertain Future

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junker-town · 7 years

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Fernando Alonso didn’t win the Indianapolis 500, but he won the day

An engine failure relegated Fernando Alonso to 24th in the Indianapolis 500, but where he finished ended up being rather inconsequential.

Although the record book will show Takuma Sato won the 101st Indianapolis 500 Sunday, it was Fernando Alonso who won the day. That will be evident a year from now, five years from now, and always and forever, because the two-time Formula One world champion’s foray into American open-wheel racing will be what is ultimately remembered most.

Alonso didn’t win, he finished 24th after his delicate Honda engine finally expired as so many other Honda engines had over the past two weeks (nine in total). But it was what happened in the 178 laps before the failure that left a 300,000 spectators cheering as he walked slowly through the pits toward to the garage.

Those up close lauded Alonso’s effort by emphatically voicing their support in multiple languages. “Job well done,” “You were great,” “Awesome, awesome driving. You’re the man,” “Please come back and do it again,” were among the words of encouragement offered. Some fans ran up to the fence that separated the pits from the grandstand to shake his hand and pat him on the back.

It was the kind of reception normally reserved for drivers who have developed a connection with fans over many years, not a driver whose first laps on the track occurred just 25 days before. Yet that was the adulation Alonso received. Deservedly so.

“Fernando did an incredible job,” said Sato, who won his first Indianapolis 500. “I mean, he was leading the race in his first attempt at the 500. … He just drove so professionally. He's obviously one of the best guys.”

Despite being an interloper whose full-time occupation is driving a McLaren-Honda Formula One car, Alonso never showed an ounce of arrogance in the days he spent at Indianapolis. He could’ve and to some degree it would’ve been excused. Holding the status as one of the best talents in the world does afford one some leeway.

Instead, Alonso embraced the many traditions that comprise running the Indianapolis 500, enjoying his time away from the corporate culture that permeates Formula One where drivers are restricted from using social media in the garage and largely shielded from fans.

Never once did he carry himself bigger than the race itself. In fact, it was the importance of winning the Indianapolis 500 that made him do the seemingly unthinkable -- he skipped the Monaco Grand Prix, Formula One’s signature event to compete at Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

In a city that cherishes its signature race and could be accused at times of possessing an inferiority complex that it’s crown jewel may no longer carry the same relevance in the motor sports stratosphere as it once did, Alonso’s yearning to be among the participants made the Indianapolis 500 the unquestionable center of attention this month. Like it did during its zenith, the spotlight on the “Greatest Spectacle in Racing” far exceeded what was happening in Monaco or at Charlotte Motor Speedway, site of Sunday night’s NASCAR race.

But it just wasn’t what Alonso said and did in the buildup to Sunday, it’s also how he performed on the track in the 447 miles he raced that lifted him to transcendent heights.

Without a modicum of fear, he made dazzling passes high and low throughout the afternoon. He powered by defending race winner Alexander Rossi to take the lead on Lap 37, completing a textbook maneuver that gave no indication the man behind the wheel of the No. 29 orange car had never raced on an oval previously. As the Andretti Autosport teammates sped down the frontstretch, Alonso tucked himself behind Rossi then executed a slingshot to Rossi’s inside to go by.

Altogether, Alonso led four times for 27 laps, trailing only Max Chilton (50 laps) and Ryan Hunter-Reay (28 laps).

“It was already a nice feeling,” Alonso said of leading. “I was passing, watching the [scoring] tower, saw the 29 on top of it. I was thinking at that moment if someone from the team was taking a picture, I want that picture at home.”

A rash of cautions and various pit strategies jumbled the running order after the halfway point. Nonetheless, with 25 laps left and a car befitting his ability, Alonso was solidly inside the top 10 and possessing a realistic chance of winning. Maybe he would win, maybe he wouldn’t, but he certainly would factor into the outcome.

Then, a puff of smoke suddenly emanated from Alonso’s car. His once mighty car had no oomph, unceremoniously coming to a stop in Turn 1. His race was over. He exited the car and acknowledged the crowd acknowledging him.

“Disappointed not to finish the race because obviously every race you compete, you want to be at the checkered flag,” Alonso said. “Today was not possible. Anyway, [it] was a great experience, the last two weeks.

“I came here basically to prove myself, to challenge myself. I know that I can be as quick as anyone in an F1 car. I didn't know if I can be as quick as anyone in an IndyCar.”

That Alonso was victimized by a mechanical gremlin was ironic, though also quite cruel. Honda’s uncompetitive and unreliable Formula One engine is what spurred McLaren to broker a deal with Andretti to secure Alonso a ride in the Indianapolis 500. Any competency by the manufacturer would’ve meant he’d be in Monaco on Sunday, not in the Hoosier State.

“The whole world was watching Fernando race today,” said Zak Brown, McLaren team principle. “He put himself out there and exposed himself, delivered the goods, which isn't a surprise to anyone that has watched Fernando race.”

Speculation now turns to whether Alonso will return to Indianapolis. It took fortuitous circumstances for him to be there this May, and with Monaco and the “500” regularly falling on the same weekend, a return excursion seems unlikely anytime soon.

The 35-year-old, however, didn’t completely rebuff the notion. Nearly winning the Indianapolis 500 is tantalizing, perhaps enough so he finds a way to make it happen again.

“Obviously, if I come back here, at least I know how everything is,” Alonso said. “It will not be the first time I do restarts, pit stops, all these kind of things. So will be an easier, let's say, adaptation.

“Let's see what happen in the following years. Yeah, I need to keep pursuing this challenge because winning the Indy 500 is not completed.”

Appropriately, Alonso closed his time in Indianapolis with a symbolic gesture to the one of the race’s great traditions. After concluding his post-race press conference, he paused to salute those who had welcomed him by sipping milk out of a carton.

It may not have been in the winner’s circle as he wished, but it didn’t matter. Alonso won the day, even if he didn’t actually win the race.

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