#i have absolutely horrendous news for you honey bear

[papertowness]

REFUSE to argue with people whose smile lights up the room . whatever you say sunshine

[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 44 _ Not the Best News

  The light flashed green, but Arthur wasn’t paying attention. The action didn’t quite ignite in his mind, though he was looking right at it. Lost in his thoughts, searching for guidance to connect the now to a future he didn’t understand. Did Lewis not trust him? He didn’t get it.

 A crackle of static burbled through the radio.

 “Lights green.”

 Arthur shivered. “Yeah. Just checking for traffic.” There was no rebuke on that, though the intersection was bare of vehicles aside from one car creeping forward. The town shut down pretty fast following six PM.

 Streetlamps flashed through the windshield at off intervals, flooding black through the van interior. The rose tinge of Lewis eyes glittered, his shape near insubstantial within the periodic dips of flare bursts. Sometimes, Arthur thought he saw the death suit and skull, despite knowing Lewis would not drop his living guise unless his focus broke. It must suck, maintaining that sort of concentration.

 “Y’know, you don’t have to look that way around me,” Arthur admitted. “I actually don’t mind Sir Bones Esquire.” Lewis generated a sound, but he couldn’t place if it was a hiss or static.

 “I prefer to look not like I crawled out of a grave,” he muttered. The face didn’t move, but the shimmering ember shifted to check Arthur. “Thanks for the offer.”

 Arthur shrugged his shoulder. “I try and keep the board clear. Whatever works for you, I’m game.” It wasn’t resentment, it was something else seeping off of Lewis.

 “You too,” Lewis uttered. He leaned back a little in the seat and crossed his arms. “You got a lot on your mind. You wanna, I dunno, talk?”

 Arthur sniffled. “Not really. It’s, well….” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Maybe later, I gotta tell you some things. Not bad or anything, but it’s pretty heavy. I might… y’know, never mind. That pizza was heckin’ good. How many times did you burn ‘em.” The radio sputtered.

 “Five, I think….”

 “Awesome.” Arthur pulled into the carport for Kingsman Mechanics. The lights were all out, the parking lot empty; the space barren, but for the vehicles dropped. He climbed out of the driver side and shut the door. On the other side, Lewis swept through the grill of the van in a swell of light and embers.

 “Dude, c’mon,” he uttered. “Don’t risk the gas tank.”

 “It’s ethereal fire,” Lewis rasped. “Absolutely harmless.” He walked with Arthur to the front doors, the keys already twinkling.

 “Hard to tell with you.” Arthur slotted one key, then the next. Until, Lewis brought his hand close, sparking a smoldering ember at his palm. Arthur jolted. “Shit! Warning, next time.”

 “Siento.” At the entrance Lewis waited, while Arthur popped inside and gave the building a brief exploration. Within seconds, Arthur returned and beckoned.

 When exiting out the entrance corridor, Arthur flicked a switched on the panel and activated the lights throughout the main work floor. “Okay, the boxes are upstairs by the door of my work room. Stacked. I meant to grab them, it didn’t happen. You can’t miss them.” The details dropped, he skittered out of Lewis company, sprinting across the work floor.

 “Where are you going?”

 “Need parts for my arm. I was kinda in a hurry, excited I was gonna get out of here before Viv started texting me. I didn’t want her to worry.” He spun around, throwing a finger gun Lewis’ way. “I’ll be up in a sec.”

 “What else did you forget?” Lewis departed on his alternate route to the dark corridor, leading to the stairway. “Should I grab the kitchen sink, too?”

 After a beat, Arthur called back in a sharp whisper, “It couldn’t hurt.”

 The worktable was as he left it, which was what he liked. He pulled open the drawer where he kept a sturdy case for the tools he routinely transported in or out, depending on his schedule. There was a specific method for undoing the clasps without the aid of a second arm, it was a little awkward to do since it required the use of his knee. It mostly kept the case stationary while he pried up the latch, but his movement was so practiced it took a mere five seconds. In a smaller drawer beneath the table surface, he kept the soldering wands for minute detail work. If he could, he wanted to get the remedial delicate stuff. It was simple enough, but tedious—

 Crack!

 Arthur jolted and whipped around, instincts on high alert. His eyes flashed around the room, studying the vehicles left prepared for tomorrow’s shift, the rotary lifts and supply carts spaced throughout the work floor. What was that? It was loud, the clamor reverberated through the hollow garage, emphasizing isolation and a prowling threat.

 “Um… Uncle?” he called. No response. Not good. Arthur reached behind him and clenched a wrench. “Who’s there?” He didn’t risk calling the name of the one that should be, but the fact an answer was NOT forthcoming was worst of all. It was okay. It would be okay. He took a breath and crept forward, moving behind a small car and checking through the windows – searching through the tinted glass for an amateur hasting to relocate amidst his momentary ‘distraction’. The silence peeled apart his senses, he should pick up someone breathing or even their deepest thoughts. Was anything missing? He couldn’t tell, and it wouldn’t matter. Someone was here, he was certain.

 After taking a short trip around the work floor, he scurried to a far wall and set the wrench down on a table, then jammed a fist into his vest pocket. Before his fingers could grasp at his phone, the hair on his nape prickled, spurring him to whip about. With a yelp, he backpedaled from the hulking shape. His yelp was more of a ‘YEEE!’ and his retreat sent him staggering, when he brushed against the corner of the desk.

 “Who the fack?! Hey—” He tumbled to the floor, as the shape snatched at the wrench abandoned upon the table. He rolled until his arm was situated under him, and sprung onto his feet. “Who the—” His voice sputtered, the wrench gave a menacing CLANG! upon skipping across the concrete floor.

 At first, he did believe in his heart that this was Lewis. In the dark and sinister parts of his memories, Arthur believed that the spirit had crept down to invoke some cruel ploy to torment him. But as the shape swept through the dull glow of light, he could cleanly distinguish that this was a grunting, breathing, agitated man in a mask. The intruder person kept weaving in and swiping for his arm, intent on incapacitating him through crude means. A shame that Arthur was much too spry and hardwired for evasion, the vandal didn’t expect such resistance either.

 The irony of everything, that a masked person would intrude in the shop and assault him. What the hell? He got enough of this crap on rando assignments, this was break from that drama. So much for that fantasy.

 Did something crash, elsewhere? Oh boy, oh shit!

 “Man, you don’t wanna do this!” Arthur vaulted over the hood of a van and zipped around the side. The big guy was quick too, though not as agile. He huffed and puffed, pursuing like a bear on honey. “You really don’t wanna! I’m warning you! Yikes!” With a lunge he crashed to the floor - he cleared the table, but got snagged by an impact drill and its cord. “YOU! You’re getting into some bad shit!” He screamed bloody murder and scrambled to his feet. The intruder hauled up a whole muffle and swung it down – cracked the concrete and missed his foot by an inch.

 Arthur sprang one way, then the other around a small convertible. Intruder followed, swishing the muffler like a damn katana. In a risky slide, he dove by and scrambled to one of the rotary lifts with a jeep suspended. He shimmied up one tower and clambered through the vacant side door, scarcely hauling his legs out of the way before Intruder with muffler could swing and knock his knees off.

 “I’m tellin’ you! You gotta leave,” Arthur went on, speech breaking. A fleeting glance surveyed the room, but established no sign of eyes or fury. Still time before this guy got cooked. “For your own—” The muffler collided with the arch of the jeep and the jointed pipe glanced his shoulder. The world twisted as he toppled backwards, and off the hood of the jeep. It was oddly reminiscent of those dreams, the nightmares. He knew what came next.

 Unexpectantly, his body collided with a stack of empty boxes.

 The masked intruder gulped down cold air, more excited than winded through the exertion. They glanced around, where was it? In all the ruckus, their mind blanked on where they dumped it. Turning, they spied something that made them abandoned the search cold turkey. This was entirely due to the large hand snagging their shoulder, and flinging them like a doll. Heat and an overwhelming scent of char clouded their senses, dissipating only when they descended from the short flight.

 The trajectory sent them on a collision course for a flatbed cart, which they tumbled off and skidded across the floor. They didn’t stop, barely checking that their legs remained connected to their spine before retreating from the scene. Exit! Escape! Where was the way out! As they fled, they patted at their sleeve and mask, embers scored their clothing – The hell? The intruder was unable to make sense of where they went, and crashed into a work bench. With admirable grace, they recovered, a pronounced limp following; metal parts and tools clanged in a cacophony of symphony across the floor. They kept going, not chancing a look back and barely examining the area through the sparks dazzling their eyes.

 Posed from throwing whoever that was, skull and death suit, eyes blazing, and fire still crackling at his ribs. Lewis would have given chase and done some real damage; there might’ve been something like self-control, perhaps even a capture if he was feeling generous. However, he couldn’t detect Arthur, and the figure buried under boxes was unresponsive to all the horrendous business afoot. He was not playing possum; Arthur couldn’t fool him.

 “Arthur?” his tone withered, and became distorted. He glided closer to the comatose figure and towered, gazing down. With hesitance and some second thoughts, he reached down slowly—

 Right through the heart he’s shot! A full slug punched directly through his facade and tore the locket clear off his coat front. WOW. What a mistake that was. Lewis twitched, fists clenched tightly at his sides. The last time he felt a sensation like that, it was after falling a considerable amount and choking on his last breath. He could almost feel the heavy tempo of a heartbeat fade out a second time.

 HE

 DID

 NOT

 LIKE

 THAT

 Directly behind Lewis at a two-meter pace, Uncle Lance stood with a rifle, barrel smoking. It was a good and clean hit, the gray wall on the other side visible through the incision torn through. He waited, uncertain what should happen next. The thing in front of him, how could it be described? It looked vaguely man-like, it had the shape of a person. Except for the ‘head’, and the gap above the open collar where a neck should occupy.

 Lewis cocked his head and let his skull swivel, peering back. Another igniting thunderclap, and the spirit snapped around fully, cowering. Fist trembling beside his hip.

 “Yu step back from m’boy, ya reject Hall-oh-ween Deck-ARATION!” Lance gave the rifle a crank and took aim. As he watched, the vacant hole in the torso filled in with a strange, glossy light. The chunk in the shoulder sizzled, and what looked like fire crackled over the rich color of the suit. A skull and suit; a very malevolent and pissed looking skull. “YA HEAR!”

 Terrible and antagonistic ruminations boiled through Lewis’ consciousness. An endless fall, the impact – mind fractured and every piece of his body dislocated. Shadows sweeping in, swirling around that bent figure high-high above, and the jewel glittering at the center of its sneer. Wild, unruly cackles clattered across the walls of the abyss, mocking his pain. Drinking up the agony spilling across the sharpened stalagmites, as every ounce of care and thought drained away.

 He glided toward the attacker, taking another bullet seamlessly in the abdomen. Ribs next, splintering – each patch of destruction inflicted, vanished in a swell of heat conjured by his blazing soul. The pieces and sharp fragments of Lewis fitted back, reworking a bizarre pattern of that day many-many moons ago. Rising, the bitter aversion for this betrayal. Abandoned, isolation and pitiless grief that followed. The loneliness, and sense of loss saturating his very essence. Corrupting, robbing him of warmth and tenderness, replacing everything with whispers and fire. Another piercing bolt, to his lower arm – a wild shot. Panic infused.

 Someone was very deserving of all this pain. It would feel better to share it, cleave a sliver loose. Release a portion of that fury threatening to boil over like a raging, scalding tsunami. Let them feel a taste of the bitterness that plagued him.

 As the thing approached ominously – clear malevolence burned in the pits of the skulls eye sockets – Lance became steadily more alarmed. There had to be a way to stop it. Someway, he had to put an end to it. But it was apparent brute force wouldn’t do it in. He backed away, nearly colliding with a supply cart.

 “Stop!” he snarled. “You can’t do that! No! S’not possible! I won’t believe it!” The next projectile tore through the apparition’s center, but before the echo faded the gaping breach vanished. Lance buckled backwards, gun dry. “ARGH! What are yu made of!”

 The rifle swept from his grip and the spirit hosted him up by the front of his vest, yanking him clear off his feet. It glared into him with those intense, blazing embers bristling deep within the cavernous eye sockets. “The souls of the innocent….” Lewis wound back an arm, fingers twitching—

 “A bagel?”

 Lewis froze. “Artie!” He dumped Lance and whipped around, shooting to the cluster of busted boxes. Before he could lean down, he hesitated – the lights about the work station flashed. “What… happened? I, uh… you’re hurt.” Arthur was sitting up, holding his neck and quivering under the drill of pain in his head. It was vibrant, he could almost feel it in his own skull.

 “Honest, I don’t… remember. Oof.” His hand reached over and touched the empty spot of his shoulder.

 The confusion was apparent, as well. Lewis needed to wait and see what Arthur came forward with. It might confuse Arthur if he bombarded him with questions, or prompts; he didn’t get a good view of the whole scene. Aside from the flush of rage that compelled his reaction. This couldn’t be rushed, and the other needed time to adjust and come around. Especially since Arthur appeared uncertain of what happened, despite his poor negotiations.

 “Did you… try to dump me off somewhere? High?” Now, Arthur peered up at the looming shadow. He couldn’t gather much of Lewis’ features, aside from a towering silhouette and the heated fuchsia orbs peering down. It was super unnerving. “That seems like somethin’ you’d do. Fuk… m’back.”

 Lewis smashed a fist into his palm. “That person! This guy!” A puff of flame sparked at his collar, and the embers in his skull snapped into hostile pinpoints. “I don’t know what happened, but he threw something. And then, you FELL! It – uh, I thought….” His speech sputtered into harsh screeches, staccato and hard to distinguish.

 “I’ll go ahead and take your word on— No, wait. I don’t remember some guy.” Arthur flinched, his head ached too. “I remember running, and I know I was scared shitless.” Lewis gawked down at him, for once it was endearing and mortified despite circumstances. “Some… guy?”

 “In a mask?” Lewis cocked his skullish brow.

 Arthur nodded. Ooh. Hurt. “That I remember, I think. Fuck… damn. You didn’t go after him?”

 “You. FELL.”

 Arthur pinched his brow. “Okay. Shut up. You… I can barely understand you. What? I’m the one that—” He withered, trapped in place by the barrier of boxes bent around him. The barbaric cry could terrify morally questionable crocodiles.

 The wild and furious snarl was Lance’s doing. He crept in closer to the spirit with his arms outstretched and two fingers locked together forming a significant and easy to recognize T. Or X. No, it was a definitely a T. A crucifix, like in the movies.

 “Evil… BOO! I banish yu!” Lance scooted in closer, edging out around at an imaginary tether which directed him toward Arthur. Determination in his eyes and sweat on his brow, his beard frazzled, that glare did not loosen from the invading spirit. “I don’t believe in this spook fun house nan-sense, but I’ll not have yur sort here terrorizing my kid!”

 A touch annoyed Lewis drooped. He debated straight up punching Lance’s lights out or stuffing him in a car trunk. Anything to get him out of the way, if only for a couple minutes. They didn’t need this.

 Arthur groaned. Everything was loud and annoying, it wasn’t just Lewis. His grumbling kicked up into a theatrical scream, “A g-g-ghost! Here! You’d better leave, disgruntled… apparition? Fuk, I don’t have the pharmacy enough for this bullshit.” He leaned to the side, moaning. “I mean, eeek! Argh! Spirit! You had better leave, before… I dunno, you’re banished by my dear Uncle’s very clear, um… exorcism. Or whatever he’s doing. OOoooOOooOOOOOoooohhhh….” Under his breath, he spat, “For fuk’s sake, you’re compelled to obey!”

 Lewis crossed his arms and leaned a little away from Lance. “Yeaaahhhh, gunna hit that up with a hard no. Not really in the mood, capiche?” He glowered directly down on Lance, right at his face with gloved hands outstretched with that ridiculous T. “Stop that or I’ll give you something to bitch about.”

 Arthur took a sharp breath. “Why do you hafta be so pissy?” Everything. HURT.

 “Stop with the language, and I might consider an attitude adjustment.”

 Arthur screwed his eyes shut. “Uncle Lance, that’s not gunna work.”

 Lance fizzled out. “Ehh.” He gawked at the skull, and the skull glared back. For the life of him, he could not begin to figure how it was suspended there. “Then… what will work?” He shuffled the remainder of the way to Arthur and crouched down, protectively. His gaze never wavered from the hostile… it was a ghost, wasn’t it? “What d’we do? How d’yu get rid of it?”

 “We don’t get rid of HIM,” Lewis huffed, pointing at Lance. “HE gets an ice pack for Arthur. Keep an eye on him.” In a flash of sparks, Lewis vanished – the extinguished cinder formed an outline before the ash hit the floor.

 The unexpected flare forced Lance to recoil, more from the vibrancy than any anticipated retribution. Once the haze faded, he searched around. No sound, no evidence of the spirits presence – aside from that familiar burning. That wasn’t important, what was important was Arthur.

 “Yu’re the expert. Is there… a pesteecide? Tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

 Arthur struggled to get up. “It’s a….” He flopped back, it was worse than a ballpit, made worse by the throbbing in his head and shoulders. He could remember up to the jeep, then it all got somewhat fuzzy. Lance assisted in easing him off the crumpled mold of his shape, nice and easy, careful not to rush. “He’s like a thorn bur, you try plucking it off and you’ll get third-degree burns.”

 Lance blinked. “WHAT?! Is that whut happened to your neck?!”

 This was not needed right now. And the guy, their mysterious assailant. Where was he now? Arthur couldn’t debate it out too hard, though some of the ache was fading, subsiding into a monotonous drum. He groaned in his throat.

 Then, on the floor. He noticed it beside one of the crushed boxes, snowed in by packing peanuts. The cracked locket. Despite dislocation, it persisted to pulse in time with the throbbing in his ears.

 “Shit-shit!” He scrambled out of Lance’s grip and snatched the thing up; it took a beating by the looks. The hinge creaked and unexpectantly the door swung open, threatening to pop off. Cursing, he struggled to hold it one handed without the whole thing coming apart. Without meaning too, he saw within. There was a photograph. He inched down, squinting at the textures and shapes, trying to make sense of what was there. He didn’t know there was—

 A dark hand snapped the locket from Arthur’s grasp and shut it. He bristled. Lewis had returned. The spirit looked downright sinister, as he set the ashen artifact back to his chest.

 “I didn’t—” Lance grabbed Arthur and heaved him back. Lance’s valiant efforts halted, when Lewis unceremoniously shoved him off. An icebag settled on Arthur’s head.

 Lewis knelt on one knee, one hand loaded with supplies. “I’ll invoke my deeply nefarious plot for revenge at a later time. When you’re fixed and patched, and likely better apt to outrun me.” He adjusted the last few items in his hand, by tucking a water bottle into the crook of his arm and twisting open a pill bottle. “You get one of these.” He set aside the pill bottle and popped the cap on the water bottle, enough to break the seal.

 Sprawled on his back, Lance observed with a perplexity beyond known rational. “Okay. What is goin’ on ‘ere?” He moved upright and jabbed out a hand toward the spirit. “What is this thing, really?”

 Lewis glared. “Rude.”

 Arthur swallowed the pill and took the water bottle. “It’s not the strong stuff.” Rather sip, he pressed the chilled bottle to his neck.

 “The strong stuff will put you in a coma, and as much as I’d prefer that, I need you awake for awhile. It’s a concussion, not a concession.”

 “Mmm, I’m lovin’ the bedside manner. You’re such a dish.” He took a sip and let the water warm before he swallowed. “Oof.”

 “Thank you for noticing, I’ve been wor—”

 “What in blazes is goin’ on!” Lance exploded, figuratively. “Arthur Kingsman! Explain! Should I call a priest, a medic! Or… what! What m’I suppose to do? Yu’n Viv-vi dealt with this’n supernatural mischief! Professionally! I can’t have these….” He jabbed a hand the spirits way, grasping for words, “…these critters, creeping into my shop! I need somethin’!”

 Arthur hung his head and sipped more water. On the sideline stood Lance tapping his foot, veins popped on his face. This was such a mess he wasn’t sure what to say or do, where to begin. “I need another pill.”

 “No,” Lewis grated.

 “Arthur,” Lance grumbled, tone stern but considerably nerfed since the eruption. “Tell me somethin’. What am I supposed to do here? I wan tu help.”

 “It’s me, Uncle Lance. Lewis Pepper.” Arthur choked on the water he was sipping. “You shot me, by the way.” Arthur made a sound, but if it was human or not was the riddle. “Maybe don’t inhale….”

 Lance stiffened; teeth clenched. For a full minute he didn’t say a word, but his sturdy outline quaked. “No!”

 “Well,” Lewis chattered, “You didn’t… kill me, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry. But you did shoot me, like, twenty times.”

 “It was four!”

 “Whatever.” The Lewis spirit fixed Lance with his scalding ember eyes, not looking pleased. And there was some familiarity in that expression, despite how feral and agitated it was now. Despite it being a bleached skull, lacking traditional and easily mapped expression.  “It didn’t feel nice.”

 “Impossible! Yu can’t be Lewis!” Lance stamped a foot. “Yu are not Lewis! That dusn’t work!”

 Arthur exhaled, catching the attention of both. “Can you not shout?” He pinched the water bottle in his arm crook and adjusted the ice bag on his neck, before it slid off. “He’s Lewis, okay? He’s not alive, but he is Lewis. We sort of… Viv-vi and I, ran across him awhile back.” How to explain THAT mess! “He was there, and we had car trouble….”

 “Funny story,” Lewis broke in. “Thrilling in a lot of ways. Quite the adventure.”

 “No! No-no-no-no-no- no-no-no-no! And NO!” Lance swung his arms out, declaring, “Lewis Pepper is dead, gone! He’s never coming back! You said so yuserlf! Yu and Viv-vi, you kids gotta let that go.”

 Arthur face palmed against the water bottle. Oh boy.

 Lewis rose to his full height, was it possible he made himself taller? He became a looming, malevolent shadow with piercing eyes. “And maybe I don’t want to let them go. Have ya ever thought of that? Uncle Lance?”

 Arthur dumped everything and leapt up. He caught Lewis by the tie. “That’s it! I’m calling time out!” To Lance, “Uncle, this is Lewis! He’s dead, it’s a long story, and it is my— ”

 “A bitch!”

 “You! Lew? What’s gotten into you?”

 Lewis hunched over placing his skull inches from Arthur’s face. “He. SHOT. Me!”

 “And? You can’t feel it!”

 “It hit me right in the feels! Nineteen times!”

 Lance hooted, “It was four, ya dumb spook!” He flinched when Lewis looked his way, eye sockets flooded thick with flames flickering. “I don’t BELIEVE in this bogus heebie-jeevies! Why d’I hafta look at it, when I don’t believe in it? This ain’t right!”

 “That’s offensive,” Lewis shrieked, “I don’t appreciate your tone!”

 A ringing chimed loud and brilliant in the momentary calm amid the fury of the storm. Arthur staggered away, first jamming a hand into his pocket and realized his phone wasn’t there. Of course she would call. They were super fucking late, they should’ve been back days ago.

 Arthur pushed through the office doorway and fumbled for the light. In his alarm, he forgot it was on the side of his left arm. He gave up, and went straight to the buzzing receiver on the desk.

 “Lords, I hope they don’t kill each other….” He shifted around and checked out the doorway. “Or, I hope Lewis doesn’t— Viv-vi! HEY!” The icepack was sorely missed. “No, everything’s fine. What, uh… gave you that idea? What about my voice?”

 Lance squeezed into the office, rifle in hand. “It doesn’t belong ‘ere. End of discussion.”

 Lewis hung in the doorway, eyes flashing and flames swelling off his shoulders. He was going to ignite something. The whole shop would implode, just like the mansion. “I’ll tell you what doesn’t belong here! We need to exorcise that nasty attitude! See how you like it!”

 Arthur pulled the phone from his ear and fitted the mouthpiece into his palm. “WHY! Did you two follow me.” He shoved the phone to his shoulder. “No! We, er… yu see what happened here, we’ll— I really can’t explain. I need an adult.”

 Lance reached for the phone. “Lemme talk to her!”

 Arthur sprang back, holding the phone high above his head. “No!”

 “Te satisfaría? If I show you? Arthur, I need a mirror.”

 Arthur climbed onto the desk, screeching into the phone, “Vivi, for the love of holy doughnuts, please come here, asap! I don’t care if someone sees Mystery! You! Here! NOW!” He slammed the phone down and scrambled off the desk, completely losing his footing in the process and nearly faceplanting. “Can you both NOT SCREAM bloody murder for two minutes! Five minutes? S’all I’m asking!”

 After that outburst, both Lance and Lewis clamped up. Arthur shoved his way out the door past Lewis, and crossed the floor back to where he abandoned the ice bag and water. He plopped down on the ground with his back to them, his lone hand fastened to his springy hair, and wilted.

 “Fuck.” Lewis swayed, drawing a hand up to the front of his suit. He eased a ways out beyond the portal but paused, once more fiddling with his tie. To the side, Lance was inching out.

 The look on Arthur’s face, he’d never seen an expression on his nephew quite like it. Except when…. Lance’s first instinct was get to him, the lad was distraught – the intuition an understatement – Arthur needed… a word. Support. But an arm slashed through his path, stalling the reflexive drive. He nearly refuted the action, the protest was on the tip of his tongue. But something snatched the words away, his throat became dry. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

 Given the chance to observe the spirit – as it were – a moment to examine the features, it’s strangeness; a sense of familiarity soaked into him. When it wasn’t glaring or coiled up, he could get the feel for something else. Like a shadow stamped into the world he understood, a vivid memory of someone he could easily recognize from a distance. An unmistakable figure, distinct from a crowd. This… thing, it looked nothing like Lewis Pepper, but the gait it carried, the movement of its arms, it was unmistakable. Somehow, he knew this… thing, but dissension saturated the connection, and its presence was disjointed. It wasn’t alive, yet it was here. Most important of all, it wasn’t going away.

 “You, uh… I think he’ll be fine.” When Lance spoke, the smoldering returned. It did NOT like him. So, what was it? What, not who. It couldn’t be…. “I’m… gunna sit down, fer a bit.”

 Lance left for the breakroom and made himself a pot of coffee. When he returned from the recess, pot in hand and a stack of Styrofoam cups; Arthur was still seated far from the office, but updated to a stack of boxes that bore his weight. He gave a brief nonintrusive examination, only to confirm he was still breathing and not in any sort of apparent pain. From there, he went to the office to clear his thoughts and keep an eye on the area.

 The lights hadn’t been turned on at all, and he almost forgot about the… thing. In the shroud, he nearly missed it seated at one of the chairs facing the desk, eyes aglow, the faint shimmer of its stylish hair. It sat arms crossed tightly, one leg slanted over the other. It didn’t respond when Lance entered.

 “I think you have a story to share.” Lance sat one cup in front of the spirit and poured some coffee. The spirit refused to acknowledge his presence, and almost appeared photographic in its uncanny stillness; it wouldn’t even look at him. He reached over the side of his desk and pried open a drawer, and from the drawer, pulled up a small tray with containers of sweetener and nondairy creamers. “You a lil sour? What’s up?” He poured a cup for himself and blew at the harsh steam. “Not doin’ nothin’ but broodin’.”

 There was a change in the spirit. The gleaming eyes were now locked on the white cup steaming in front of it.

 “I don’t understand how this works,” Lance admitted. He plucked up the dislocated phone from the desk and set it back to the receiver. “Am I supposed t’say a special codeword? Is there a ritual, an uh… Ouiguh board.” The lamp on his desk flickered, came on, and then the bulb popped in a firework splash. Lance winced, sharply withdrawing his hand. Okay, what the FUCK. “Did yu do that?”

 “Not on purpose.” Praise the stars, it spoke. “Check on Arthur.”

 He wasn’t certain if that was a hint, or a direct command. “Juz did. He’s fine. This is mah office, by the way.” He managed to get a sip of his coffee. “I won’t harass him with this, not now. And I won’t wait for Vivi-vi. Before we get tu this…. Yu say a person….”

 “Guy in a mask.”

 “All right.” Lance nodded. “Before we pop that can of worms, before any of that. You’re here. I’ll go so far as admit that. But,” he gestured vaguely. “How did this happen?” Those vibrant eyes flicked up to him.

 “It’s complicated.”

 “Hmm. Don’t like t’way you said that.”

 “Funny. I could care less what you think.”

 Lance took another sip, and set his cup down. “Listen. Ghost Lewis.”

 “Just Lewis,” the spirit had a wispy, sometimes airy way of speaking. The voice didn’t come from it, which made sense, because it didn’t have a mouth. “I’m still Lewis. The only difference, I lost custody of the body.” He huffed, and a bright flame flashed from its neck collar. Lance leaned back in his chair, uncertain what to make of… everything.

 “Lewis, then.” He moved his line of sight out of the office, once more checking on Arthur. “Y’know Arthur’s m’boy, and I won’t have yu tormentin’ him.”

 For a few minutes Lance sat, mulling through a history he thought was sheltered away in the deep parts of his memories where he preferred not to dwell. His fingers pressed tighter around the defenseless cup in his grasp, the warmth seeped through the insulated material and into the thick gloves he wore. The white of the cup cut through the bleak patterns of the gloom, reminding him of the brightest sheets he’d ever seen – specks of crimson and brown, where the bandages couldn’t stifle the work to recreate a shoulder. Arthur delirious and agonized, unaware that he was maimed as badly as he was. The details were unattainable, shattered and cast out a window. Nothing helped, no amount of medication.

 Something happened. Vivi lost her memory. It was awful. Mystery was gone, vanished entirely like a… well. Arthur was beyond consoling, overrun by trauma, nearly splint in two. There was no way to construct a complete narrative, aside from it being a terrible Accident. Irreversible. Lewis never came back, and Arthur insisted that would never change. And they had to accept that.

 If he held the Styrofoam cup any tighter, it would spill all over his desk. Lance rubbed at his face, trying to quell his thoughts. Those nightmares kept him up some nights, but he was a master of not showing on the worst days. Arthur had enough to deal with, and apparently more so these days. He sighed, still refusing to raise his gaze to the thing seated across from him, trying to dwell on the mystery of how it could be so devoid of warmth despite what looked like an ember wavering near its shoulder. He tried once more:

 “He’s said some things I don’t fully grasp, admitted stuff I don’t have a full spectrum or insight intu.” He rubbed a thumb over the rim of the cup, gazing into the dark depths of the liquid within. “‘E’s been through enough, he’s regretted t’things that happen’. Losin’ you… I don’t even think he realized ‘iz arm was gone, not until—”

 “Uncle Lance.” It was almost heartening, the way the spirit – Ghost Lewis. Just Lewis – persisted to refer to him as Uncle, same as his friends. The same way he did when alive. “I lost my life, and all of that had a negative effect on me, on my… prospect for living, and being.” The spirit moved, uncoiling his arms and gently caressed the vibrating heart at its chest. “It’s a topic we try not to touch on. I tend to stray far away from it all.”

 How easy it touched upon the subject of its demise, as if it was all a matter of inconvenience. Was it meant to comfort him? Lance took a sip. “Juz curious, but… was there plans to… accept and reconcile, or something?” The eyes narrowed at him and the bristling embers constricted into a needle point dot.

 “What are you getting at, now?”

 Lance blew at the steam in his cup. The eyes of the spirit flashed, agitated by something, some unknown insult. “I’m not getting’ why your still ‘round. Aren’t spooks supposed to do’n the, is it the crop circle thing?”

 Lewis cocked a rigid eyebrow. “Cross… over? No. Nope, it’s not a requirement for certain cases.”

 “I have a suspicion that there’s more tu it than—” Without warning, Lewis bolted up from the seat – the flash of movement shocked Lance, in that it was vacuum less and silent. Only the light dousing out, as Lewis’ wide shoulders zipped out the doorway. The embers once swirling his space extinguished altogether, plunging the room into total darkness.

 The catalyst must’ve been the racketing dog yaps, which entered onto the work floor. Soon after there was Vivi, racing over to the middle of the room and dashing her eyes around. Mystery was her guide, leading directly to the side wall where Arthur had remained hunched over. Arthur gave her the barest attention when she reached his side and leaned low. An exchange of words followed. Then, Vivi raised her sight to the office doorway.

 Without a word, Lewis approached the group, arms clasped behind his back. When Lance emerged from his quarters fully and the light ensnared him, Vivi set her eyes upon him, and they became saucers. In retrospect, it did explain some things, though not nearly enough if Lance was honest. Something about all this didn’t settle right, and at the core of this drama was his boy, Arthur. If he couldn’t enlist Vivi’s aid in this, he might have to pursue other drastic means. But it wouldn’t work to be reckless. Being reckless is what nearly got him socked in the face, by something that claimed to be Lewis Pepper.

[oldtowrs]

Softer than Roses - Lindir

Request from wattpad: Could you do a Lindir one? Where he and the reader are married, and the reader gets kidnapped for 100 years and he has to help her readjust to life in Rivendell.

A/N: Aww, Lindir. I’ve missed writing him so much! This physically hurt me to write... lol... Also, I’m sorry this wasn’t anything special... I wanted it to be but my brain just wouldn’t let that happen. 

Abbreviations: E/C: eye color, 

Translations: guren vell: sweetheart

Warnings: Mentions of torture, abduction, self-shaming for a sec. 

Words: ~2300

The golden sun seeped through the trees and fell upon the rocks and rivers that surrounded Rivendell, bathing the mountain valley in the honey-gold light. Its gentle kiss was warm to the touch, and everything flourished beautifully under its loving embrace. Everything except for one particular ellon, that is. Lindir couldn’t have cared if it the valley was being drowned in hail, rain or snow. He couldn’t have cared if the valley was whipped into unlivable conditions by the harshest of winds. He couldn’t have cared if the sun never rose again and the valley was cast into eternal darkness. His Y/N, his sun, his flower, his very heart’s blood… was gone.

Ever since her abduction 100 years ago, the sun and stars in his heart, hung there by Y/N’s gentle hands, had set and his very existence had been plunged into total obscurity. He had been blinded by grief and now, not even the boldest ray of light and happiness could strike his heart. The flowers that once blossomed in Lindir’s soul were now strewn about his fragmented soul, their blackened petals littering his being with terror. 

And now, in his darkest and eternal hour, his memories were a pack of bloodthirsty wolves who preyed and massacred the rabbits of his hope that were so weak, they could not even bear to run. Memories of her grazed and bloodied neck, of her terrified, heart-wrenching screams, of her rattied and blood-stained clothes, of the absolute terror that had resided in her E/C eyes haunted him every moment since she had been ripped from his arms by the scarred orc’s long, clawed hands. His dreams had turned to nightmares that shook him to his very core. His memories of her pink lips spread as a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air splintered him from the very depths of his being to the very highest and outermost points. 

“It’s only been a century,” people would say. 

But to Lindir it was much more. It wasn’t even 100 years to him. It was each and every one of the 36,500 days upon which he had awoken to find her missing from his arms. It was each of the 36,500 days that he had come home to a cold, lifeless room that was void of her warmth and comforts. It was the 36,500 days that he had been bound by the chains of grief in a prison of utter misery, tears streaming from his face as he sat upon the floor, hands laying useless in a lap upon which she had once sat… the remains of his shattered heart scattered upon the grounds around him. 

It was 36,500 days that his broken heart was without her healing touch, and that was the tragedy that had become his life. 

- 

The very last rays of the sun’s golden light had begun to disappear and the once crystal sky had been painted with violets and roses above the deep sapphire mountains. Guards stood like statues about the perimeter of the fairly peaceful elven town when a figure in a tattered and torn robe stumbled over the bridges that connected the main entrance of Rivendell and the world across the raging rivers below and fell at the foot of a massive flight of stone stairs. 

“Who goes there?” One of the guards yelled. 

“I need to speak to Lindir!” The figure cried, her voice flowing and melodious, a complete contrast of her appearance. 

“Who are you, stranger!” The guard called again.

“For Arda’s sake, I’m his wife.”

-

A sharp knocking sounded upon the beautifully carved wooden door that hid my chambers from the rest of Rivendell. The loud banging shot arrows of pain through my aching head as I rose from my position on the floor and moved to it as gloomily as a ghost. And perhaps I was only a ghost of myself. After all, my heart and soul were already beyond numb and not much else of me was left.

There mustn't be anything more ghostly than I, I thought. Not even in Mandos’s great halls.  

When I unlocked the door and pulled it back to reveal a guard, his hands wrapped around a double pointed spear, my annoyance was insurmountable. That was until my eyes flickered over to the elleth that stood behind him as quiet as a my heart stopped dead in my chest. 

There she was, my Y/N, standing before me after all the 36,500 days we had been apart. Her H/C hair was much shorter than it had been the day she was taken and her figure was thin and skeletal. The skin about her eyes bunched into new wrinkles that revealed the strain she had undergone since her abduction. Despite how tired and worn she looked, her smile was still the same as the day my heart and soul had willingly jumped into an eternity of love for the lovely elleth who now stood before me once again. 

“Y/N,” I gasped, tears forming in my eyes as my heart, for the first time in one hundred years, lifted; hope regained its firm hold upon me once again as I asked, “is it really you, darling?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her chest visibly heaving from her ragged breathlessness, her eyes becoming more watery than the great, raging seas themselves. “It’s me, Lindir. I’ve come home.”

The pure happiness that flooded my soul at that moment was unlike any that ever had before. Her frayed appearance mattered not to me, for the sight of her radiant being standing in front of me was one I thought I would never have seen again upon the horrible night I lost her. 

“Oh, Y/N!” I cried, my hands reaching out to pull her brittle form into my arms for the first time in what felt like an eternity. I pulled her head to my chest in the way she used to love, and my other arm wrapped around her waist in the way I knew comforted her. Y/N, in turn, delicately buried her head into the nape of my neck, her arms wrapping around my thin torso. We hugged in the way we had a century ago, the way I had longed for ever since her abduction. “I’m sorry I look so horrendous,” she apologized, her breath soft against my skin as it drifted through the fabric of my robes. 

“Darling,” I cooed, pulling out of the hug to look at her once more, “the sight of you standing here at all brings me more joy than I ever believed one was capable of feeling. I care not that you look a mess, for I know I probably do too. It's okay.”

“You’re as sweet as ever,” she sighed happily, the tears that were once brimming in her eyes now wetting her cheeks softly. 

My hand came up to caress her face, my thumb wiping away her tears. “I only ever am with you, guren vell,” I sighed, kissing her hairline like I used to all those years ago before thanking the guard who brought my lovely Y/N back to me again and leading her into the rooms we once shared. 

“It looks the same as it always did,” Y/N sighed as she walked around, her gaunt fingers running through the silk covers upon our bed. 

“I never had the heart to change it,” I said as I walked over to her and shyly pushed a strand of short, H/C hair out of her face. 

“Your hair is shorter,” I spoke, a worried look contorting the aspects of my face. Y/N’s suddenly saddened eyes drifted down towards the carpet beneath our feet. 

“They singed it off until it was even shorter a while ago,” she whispered weakly, tears beginning to run down her face again. Although now, they were no longer tears of happiness, but rather, tears of absolute melancholy and fiery rage. I brought a finger to the skin on the underside of her chin and gently lifted her gaze to mine. 

“Darling, it might be rugged and stunted now,” I said, “but after washing it, it’ll be restored to its proper softness eventually. That lovely sheen that I’ve missed so much will have return and the lovely scent of your favorite flowers will radiate from it once more. And don’t worry, it’ll grow longer. I’ll make sure of it.

“And my darling, oh my sweet darling… I’ll make sure your skin softens once more, and you know what? I’ll make sure it’s even softer than before. It’ll be softer than the petals of roses. I’ll make sure you're fed more than enough so you no longer have to be brittle and frail. Darling, I promise you, I’ll care for you once more, and I promise you’ll flourish once more.”

“Promise?” Y/N asked, her eyes holding an uncertainty that made me want to pledge myself to her a thousand times. I wanted her to know I’d always be there for her, to make her happy and to make sure she’s taken care of once again. 

“Y/N, I swear it on the Valar. I will not leave you, nor will I lose you. Not again. I’m going to protect you with everything of which I am capable. I promise. You won’t have to fear again, my darling. I promise.”

She hesitantly stepped closer to me and I opened my arms welcomingly, hoping that she would melt into them like she used to. Her eyes scanned mine anxiously before she flew into my arms, silent sobs wracking her body. 

"Shh, darling, shh,” I cooed, my fingers running through her soon-to-be-silken hair. When they reached the ends, I realized how dry and dead the strands were. “It’s all okay now. I have you, darling. I’m here and you’re home.”

“Do you know what they did to me, Lindir?” she sobbed softly, her entire body trembling as she clung to me. “They tortured me every day. Every day, some new metal was tested against my skin and when they had nothing new to test or hurt me with, they berated me. Each and every day… for a hundred years. I’m covered in scars, my hair is burnt, and now every little sound scares me to death. I was hardly fed, and I never slept. Lindir… I’m so scared.”

The words she spoke stopped my heart. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked down to where Y/N’s hair parted at the base of her neck, and sure enough, faded red lines covered her skin like a morbid, cross-stitched pattern. “I’m so scared and it hurts so much. I’m so ugly now Lindir. So ugly and so… so scared.”

Those words… those horrid, terrible words finally made the tears in my eyes fall, and my body too shook alongside hers. 

“Y/N,” I sniffed, pulling her once soft face from my chest, bringing her E/C gaze to mine, “I promise, love. You are not ugly. You’re so so beautiful. Those scars that you say cover your sweet, precious skin are a sign of your beauty. Y/N, you’re so strong and so so beautiful. And with time, darling, you’ll be even more radiant than before I promise. And, where there once was reason to fear, there is no longer. I’ll protect you, always… and this time, I’m never letting you go.”

I kissed her lips lightly, before staringly anxiously into her eyes, eyes that were filled with wonderment, or perhaps my lonely, longing heart was confusing fear and hate with some emotion more positive in order to keep it from breaking once more. 

But all my fears melted away as she pressed her lips to mine sweetly. Sweetly, and passionately and desperately. It was through that kiss I realized she was just as hurt, just as heartbroken as I. I realized that she had lived with the fear that she might not live to see the light of day again each and every day for the past 100 years. 

And with the realization, the tenderness, and love that our hearts had been destitute of finally returned. I felt in her delicate touch at every point at which our skins brushed against the others’. And I knew she could feel it in the way my hands cradled her soft features, for she only pressed further until I toppled over backward. Her small form followed me and before I could reassemble my bearings, we were both in a tangled heap upon the floor, tears of pure euphoria seeping from our eyes. Our laughter rang throughout the little room, and at last, the whole world seemed brighter. At last the world seemed warm again. My heart bathed in the sunshine that was Y/N’s love for me as the sun in my heart rose once more, chasing away the wolves and the rabbits, allowing the flowers of my soul to bloom again, and for the happiness to resettle itself in the home it once had within me, within Y/N, within us. 

I wrapped my arms entirely around Y/N’s form as she giggled happily. She squealed as I brought her close to me, our faces nearly touching as I gazed fondly into her eyes once more. I nudged her nose with my own and snuggled it into the small space just between her glistening eyes and perfect nose. The tingling that erupted at the tip of my nose told me that she returned the gesture, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the most beautiful sight I had ever seen… her radiant, warm smile. 

“Oh, Y/N,” I cooed, my arms completely encircling her delicate frame as I kissed her forehead, honey dripping my lips, “no amount of words could explain my joy at your return.”

“And mine could never express the joy I feel at finally being with you again, my home.”

[demi-angel-novel]

Chapter 5: Get me all of the fire extinguishers

     I chuckled at that memory as I stood in front of the bakery. she sure made good on that promise, didn’t she?  Welp, I should go in.  I swung open the door hearing the familiar jingle of the bell in front of the door as my nose was enchanted by the smells from the shop.  The scent of the freshly made bread, the aroma of the coffee and the striking smell of the sweets, each filling me with a feeling of home as I breathed in and out feeling a sense of safeness within the walls as I made my way inside.  

     The bakery was a mixture of a cafe, coffee shop, and of course bakery.  In the building were tables and chairs peppered through the middle of the room with booths on the front, behind two large windows gifting everyone the sights of the city, as there was a counter beyond the table as it both showed off the products they made as well as having stools for those who desired a longer stay.  To cut things short it was a place open to anyone, whatever tastes they had.  As I made my way to the counter I saw a familiar face standing at the counter as the sight of her made my smile widen as she lifted her head up to see who had walked in as the same smile graced her face.

"Ah, thought it'd be you, morning Thomas"

"Buongiorno Mrs. Payne!"  I chirped cheerfully.  Her once brown hair, was now housing streaks of grey and on her face no matter how many times I see her she has a motherly face and smile, with the warmest honey brown eyes I have ever seen that could make even the coldest person sit down and just talk about whatever, forgetting their worries.  Basically, you could say she is my adoptive mother.  Yeah, I love her and their family that much.

"How's your day been so far, Thomas?  You haven't been up to no mischief have you?"  I felt a small sweat go down my neck as it seems she found me out that quickly.  I should really invest in some duct tape for my freaking smile.

"No, of course not and I've been fine"

Her eyebrow cocked at my first statement as she had a knowing look in her eye that no matter how much willpower I have forces me to tell her the truth.

"I mean, yes ma'am, I got kicked out this time actually"  She scoffed and sighed at my antics being used to this over all these years.

"What level was it this time"

"Five?"  her eyes slightly widened at this as she smiled nodding

"No wonder she did it this time.  Still, you shouldn't do anything that bad, even to her!"  Now it was my turn to sigh as I tapped my foot knowingly in a rhythmic sound.

"I know, but she deserved it"  I muttered while pouting.

"Do you have pictures?"  after hearing this my smile reappeared brighter than ever,

"Of course!"

"Good, show me!"  From the pictures, we both laughed for a good long time, especially since I gave my own accounts of the grand event.  And if anyone says that you shouldn't trust me on a recap don't believe them, I am honest only when it's hilarious.

"Hahahahaha, whew you are really something Thomas"

"heheh, grazie.  Oh yeah, where are the twins anyway?"

"They're in the back helping their father get ready for the rush today, if you're not back inside the orphanage later swing by they want to play with their big brother."

"heh, sure, so any way how'd you know I was lying?"

"That smile of yours"

"Dang it I knew I should have gotten ductape!"

"heheh, and mothers intuition.  After raising two children and an orphan who gets into trouble way too often.  You learn how to tell when they're lying."

"No one should possess that power, it is too strong!  I call hacks!"  At my outburst we both had no choice but to chuckle

"pfffft, speaking of parents, you said you knew mine, a while ago.  Think you can tell me about them?"

"Of course, well you mother was very kind, patient, and really hot-headed at things that annoyed her.  Child, I still remember when we first met.  She walked into the bakery one day and something got her so mad she ranted in Italian for ten minutes at your father before they knew each other, as I will tell you she had the fury of hell in her veins.  But somehow your father calmed her down.  And to this day I still don't know what he said to do it.  One more thing about her she seemed to have your trickster streak as when she smiled it was that mischevious grin of yours, and if her stories are to be believed she was darn great at making it.  Probably why it didn't surprise me finding out about your antics over there.  But your father was something else, the man seemed out of this world, he was the most kind, patient, and caring person I ever met.  He was also very smart and playful to an extent and all around he was helpful beyond belief.  And for some reason, he seemed to give off an aura of hope wherever he was making peoples lives just a little better.  And for whatever reason, he always smelt like ozone, hence why whenever he came in I forced him to use cologne because it was that strong on him.  Heh, and between"  she looked side to side making sure no one was listening as she leaned in.

"He was absolutely handsome, outshining every man here,  to the point where all of the girls called this man angel as a nickname.  You actually favor him a lot if you didn't notice, seems you've inherited both of your parents best traits."  At the compliment, I blushed a little and scratched the curly mess of my hair in a bashful way

"Thanks, alright I'm gonna see if the old toucan calmed down, see you later Mrs. Payne!" I said waving behind me as I walked out.

"Jack, kids, how's everything back there?" she called

"We're almost done!  Marco hand me the yeast, Leo check the first batch"

"Yes sir,"  they said together mirroring each other with a salute.  Their both around seven years old as they had the same black and brown hair with them both having fair skin.  The only differences between the two were their eyes as one had green eyes and the other inherited their mothers, honey, brown orbs.  And the other was one had rosy cheeks.  This was between Leo and Marco respectively.  As Leo walked over the oven to check on the bread and sweets he opened it noticing sparks popping everywhere.

"What the?" after saying this the sparks roared to life into flames as it filled the boy with fear.

"Dad!  I need the fire extinguisher, quick!"

"On it!"  Jack ran as fast as he could and sprayed the fire but when they innards of the extinguisher hit the flames they evaporated in seconds.

"What?"  The flames morphed into a face with a demonic smile appearing to laugh with glee as a twisted and mangled voice spoke to them.

"Finally, I've returned.  Now then where is he?"  The creature filled them all with ice-cold fear.

"K-kids, get behind me I'll protect you!"  After hearing this the demon gave a cruel and destructive laugh as if the inside of his neck as scorched.

"You?  Hurt me, oh that is a joke if I ever hear one.  Don't kid yourself, even your own voice has given you out.  You're scared for your life"  Jack didn't answer as his body shook as he forced his body to aim the extinguisher at the creature, but it merely reached out a newly formed hand and burnt the extinguisher to mere ashes, as it crawled out of the oven, forming body part after body part, growing in size with each new addition hitting the ceiling staring down at them all.

"hahahahaha, child of thunder, I shall see you soon"

as I was walking back to the orphanage a migraine tore through my head.

"Agh!"

I gripped my head from the strain as it felt like my head was getting hit like a base drum.  From the pain, I saw a rush of images.  They showed me the family surrounded by flames, blood bathing the floor, a creature standing over them, its eyes struck fear in me as I began shaking from pure fear as my body was feeling weak.  Even to this day, I don't know what took over me but from the images, I rushed back to the bakery sprinting towards it with all my might.

'what were those visions I saw?  As I approached the bakery I saw flames and smoke billowing out of every window as it hardened my fear in a lump as I told myself to go faster.  Faster, faster I urged myself until the sound of laughter almost made me stop in my tracks as more images filled my mind, a monster, a man in white and gold robes, blood?  No, focus on whats happening right now!  I yelled in my mind as I finally made it gasping for air as I saw flames tearing through every inch of the building as I used my shirt, covering my mouth and nose the best I could as I busted through the door frantically looking everywhere for the family.

Through my search, I saw the husband and wife amongst the flames as I raced over keeping myself down from the smoke as I saw they weren't moving.

'no no no no no, don't you two dare be dead' after that thought, I crouched down and put my head on their chests horror and sadness filling me second after second until I heard faint heartbeats filling me with hope.

"Oh thank God, alright let's get you two away from the fire"  I grabbed a hold of the two of them as I dragged them from the licking flames into the front door.  

'Okay, their safe for now.  But where are the twins' I thought as I was about to begin my search again my body froze from the sound of laughter behind me as I felt cold sweat all over my body come second after second as I slowly turned to come face to face with a monster?  No, demon.  It was made from the flames as it solidified into a beast of black scales that were disrupted by many scars exposing its sick pink flesh as it had a smile, bearing its horrendous rotting yellow teeth as its blood red eyes burned through me.  As I saw in his right hand I saw Leo and Marco.

"Ah, what a pleasure, child of thunder, it's been oh so long since we've seen each other."  His voice made every inch of my body scream in terror as I had the feeling to go in the fetal position but I tried to muster all of my courage to be intimidating but all it turned into was a frightened squeak.

"Let them go so help me I'll-"

"You'll what? Bravado me to death.  Hmm?  heheheh, you have no, idea how long I've waited for this day.  Now I finally have my prey without any interference"

"L-let them go now!"

"If you insist child"  He opened his hand and let them fall 

"NO!"  I cried as I rushed to catch them, only to be backhanded, careening into a wall breaking most of my bones, sending out a grotesque crunch and snap as the pain seared all of my being as I couldn't even yell with all that came out of my mouth is a small aaaaaaah as I saw the world beginning to get darker as my vision faded in and out as I thought.  Heh, well looks like I die on my birthday, heheh, well at least I can finally rest.  As my vision continued to fade I saw a winged figure with two items in hand as I saw them launch towards the demon with a battle cry as I finally saw all darkness.