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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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Three weeks.

Mae almost didn't believe it when Gregg gave her the news. She'd known the day was coming, of course, but actually hearing a definite date came as quite a shock. Things had settled into a comfortable routine, and part of Mae had thought that things in Possum Springs wouldn't change.

But no. The tiny world where Mae didn't have to think about her best friend moving away was shattered like a snow globe. Gregg had just gotten off of work, and they were up on the roof of his apartment building. Naturally, Gregg's news about the move was the first thing they talked about.

Mae couldn't do anything but chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd know for sure," she said. "I mean, you said you were moving in spring, and it'll be summer pretty soon."

"Life happens," Gregg said with a shrug. "But, yeah, we'll be able to move in three weeks. Just in time for swimsuit season!" Gregg paused. "Shit, I guess we'll actually have to go get swimsuits."

Mae nodded slowly. Not a lot of reasons to own a swimsuit in Deep Hollow County. The nearest place to go swimming was a pool in Hunwick, but that place was sketchy as hell. Mae remembered seeing a bunch of needles all over the place the last time she'd been there. They had probably been drug needles.

Wait, what drugs did you need a needle for? Was it weed? Did you have to inject the weed into yourself? Mae guessed she'd never know. She was definitely never, ever doing weed again. Probably.

"God," Mae said. "It's finally happening, huh?" She looked out at the horizon. Things were really pretty from up here. Gregg and Angus's apartment had a great view. Mae wondered who would move in when they left. Mae wondered if Gregg's next apartment would have a view this nice.

Then again, Gregg and Angus had lived on the second floor. Probably not as great a view as up on the roof.

"When you move to Bright Harbor, you should live on your building's roof," Mae said, apropos of nothing.

"What, like a penthouse?" Gregg asked. "We couldn't afford that. Unless you mean, like, you think we should pitch a tent up on a roof somewhere. I don't know if that'd be legal, though. Plus, the weather would probably suck."

Okay, that was fair. If it rained, they'd probably drown.

Mae crossed her arms and sighed. "You know what?" She asked. "I'm happy for you, dude. You and Angus. You earned this." A small, genuine smile crept across Mae's face. She felt bad that they were moving, but she couldn't find it in her to be upset with them. Not anymore, at least.

"We really did," Gregg said with a sigh. The former delinquent wandered to the building's edge and sat. "Between all the work we've done, and all the changes I've been making, we've totally earned a fresh start."

A bright smile formed on Gregg's face. His smiles were always so sincere. Everything about Gregg was sincere, Mae thought. That was part of why he ruled.

"I'm totally gonna message you every day," Mae said.

Gregg laughed at that. "Dude, you better," he said. "If you don't, I'll assume you died or something."

"Nah," Mae said. "Even if I was a ghost, I'd still message you every day."

Mae and Gregg sat in a comfortable silence as they watched the people walk around on the sidewalks below. From up here, Mae thought, everyone looked like characters in a video game. One of the old handheld ones, maybe, or a top-down RPG. There was something sad about that, but Mae wasn't sure what it was.

"Before we move," Gregg said, "I'm gonna be really boring. I wanna make sure I don't do anything stupid at the last minute and blow this for us." He sighed a bit. From the sounds of things, he didn't have a lot of confidence in himself. Mae could relate.

"Like I said before, you're all adult now," Mae said, trying to lift her friend's spirits. "I'm actually kinda jealous. Like, you're out there living your life and making things happen. Meanwhile, I'm sort of… stuck, I guess."

Gregg turned to face Mae, a sympathetic look on his face. "Dude, you'll get moving some day," he said. "I know you. When you want something, you make it happen. Trust me, Mae, you're gonna kick ass one of these days."

"I kick ass now," Mae said, chuckling a bit. "I kick all the asses, all the time."

Her laughter died down, however, and a sigh escaped her. "Seriously, though," Mae said, "I don't know if I could ever do what you're doing. I feel like I wasn't really prepared for being out in the real world. Like, I'm scared of being a real adult, dude? Right now I'm just a dumb 21-year-old, but every day I feel like I'm getting closer to the point where I'll have to grow up."

"It's not, like, a sudden thing, dude," Gregg said. "I mean, I still don't feel like I'm an adult. But I do adult things, so that counts for something, I guess?" Gregg offered an uncertain shrug. "It's all really complicated. They should've given us an instruction manual when we graduated."

Mae scoffed. "As if we'd actually read it."

The two friends laughed at that, and watched as the sky gradually grew darker and darker.

It had been Gregg's idea to go out to the woods when they were done looking out at the sky. Mae had hopped onto his bike, and they'd ridden out to the same woods where they'd had their knife fight last year.

Things looked pretty much the same, albeit much greener. The log was still broken, and that made Mae feel kind of proud. The fake forest god had been dismantled at some point, either by Gregg or some punk teens. The Northern Dumbfowl were still out on the lake. Mae guessed they'd just gotten back from flying south.

Okay, so maybe the woods didn't look the same. Woods in spring were completely different from woods in the fall. They were more alive, somehow.

"Nah, I haven't seen Germ, either," Gregg said as they sat on the edge of the lake. They hadn't made any stops on the way. The old glass factory loomed in the background.

"That's kinda weird," Mae muttered. "Should I be worried? Like, I'm not worried, but should I be?"

Gregg shrugged. "I dunno. Germ's kind of an enigma. He might be on vacation or something, and he just didn't tell anyone. Sounds like something he'd do."

The word 'vacation' flipped a switch in Mae's head. She suddenly remembered the conversation she'd had with Bea last year about the road trip. Bea hadn't said anything, so she must have forgotten, too. Either that, or she was budgeting it or something.

A road trip would be the perfect thing to get Mae's mind off of missing her buddies. Mae made a mental note to talk with Bea about it sometime later. Maybe on the way to the next Jackie party? Whenever they talked about it, it wasn't likely they'd head out west any time soon. The barbecue and giant pierogis could wait.

Gregg let loose a sigh. The lake in front of them was incredibly still. Mae had no idea if there were any fish in that lake. She didn't know a lot about fishing. Part of her wished her dad or granddad had been into it. Mae wouldn't have minded that.

"Part of me's really scared, you know?" Gregg said. "When we get to Bright Harbor, I don't know what'll happen. I don't know how things will change."

"Dude, I'd be scared if I were you," Mae said reassuringly. "You'd be crazy to not be scared. Either that or, like, impossibly chill."

That got a laugh out of Gregg. "Okay, good to know," he said. "I'm, like, the opposite of chill. Which I guess makes me hot?" A delighted smile formed on his face as this realization dawned on him.

Mae smirked and shrugged. "Eh," she said. "You're a four out of ten."

Gregg's smile turned into an upset little pout. Mae laughed at that. Gregg joined her. The two laughed for a while. They laughed until they heard a twig snap behind them.

Both of them were startled, but Mae was the one who spun around to find the source of the noise. She couldn't see anyone. Had it just been a rabbit? Or a sasquatch? Did they have those in Deep Hollow County? Mae felt like she would have heard if there were sasquatches here.

Just when Mae was about to dismiss it, she heard another twig snap. Her eyes turned toward the direction of the sound just in time to see a rustling in some nearby bushes. Without even thinking about it, Mae ran towards the bush. Gregg called out after her, clearly confused.

When Mae reached the bush, there was no one. Ahead of her, though, Mae could see some more bushes rustling. Whoever or whatever it had been, they were running off towards the glass factory. Mae chased after them.

Everything else was shut out. Mae didn't pay attention to anything except for the figure that she was chasing. She never got a good look at them; they were always just ahead of her, hidden among the branches and bushes. Mae was vaguely aware of Gregg following her, yelling at her to stop.

Mae couldn't stop, though. She'd been on edge lately. Her dreams of the mines had been occurring every night. To top that off, her suspicions towards Leon had colored her perception of the world around her. She was scared. There was no denying that. She was scared enough to chase blindly after someone she couldn't see.

Scared enough to chase after someone right into a ravine.

The edge of the ravine was obscured by bushes, but even then Mae managed to stop herself before she went tumbling over into the muddy ground below. The ravine ran adjacent to the glass factory, and was cluttered with trash. Broken glass, metal, and lots of things that would make you need a tetanus shot.

There was no one else in the ravine below.

Just as Mae came to this confusion realization, she became aware of someone running up behind her. At first, fear gripped her throat and brought a cold chill up her spine. However, Mae quickly deduced that it was Gregg, chasing after his friend.

Mae was just about to turn and call out to Gregg when she realized how quickly he was coming towards her. Before she could warn him about the ravine, he came barreling through the bush and into Mae. A confused gasp escaped him as his momentum carried them forward, and sent them tumbling into the ravine below.

As they rolled down the embankment, Mae was suddenly reminded of the tire and the hill. It had been a while ago, back at the start of spring, but it still stuck in Mae's mind. The difference was, that trip down a steep slope had been relatively safer.

This trip ended sooner, however. With a thud, the two hit bottom. Gregg hit the ground first, and Mae landed on him before rolling off into the mud. The whole world was spinning. Mae felt nauseous. Her entire body ached from the tumble she had taken. She would be fine, though.

Judging by the noises Gregg was making, however, he wouldn't be.

Mae and Gregg had been rough kids growing up. Mae was no stranger to the sounds of a scraped knee, or a twisted ankle. The only time she'd heard a noise like this, however, was back in middle school.

She, Gregg, and Casey had been out by the tracks. Gregg and Casey had been skateboarding, while Mae sat aside and watched. It was really boring. Or it had been, until Gregg had tried a very difficult trick and wound up breaking his arm.

Something similar seemed to have happened here. As Mae regained her senses, she saw Gregg's leg had gotten caught in a pile of metal and garbage. His ankle was twisted to the side, and his leg was bent at an unnatural angle. Gregg laid there, cries of frustration and pain escaping him as he tried to clutch at his leg.

It took Mae a second to find her words. She managed to open her mouth and say the only thing she could think of: "Oh, shit, dude."

Gregg gave a pained laugh as he brought his hands to his eyes. Despite the situation, there was a smile on his face. "Oh, man," he said. "Oh, god, I think it's effing broken. Is there bone showing?"

Mae hurried over to her friend's side. His leg was all wonky, but she couldn't tell how bad it was through his jeans. Slowly, she reached out and carefully pulled the leg of Gregg's pants up as much as she could. Evidently, she didn't do it carefully enough, because more gasps of pain filled the air.

With her vision unobscured, Mae looked at Gregg's leg. It looked nasty. There was a weird protrusion at his knee, like something was trying to get out. His skin, while bruised, was at least intact.

"No bones, dude," Mae said.

Gregg groaned. "Aw, shit," he said. "That's lame. I was hoping it'd at least look cool."

Mae nodded. A broken leg with bones popping out looked sick, and was something you could tell a story about later. But if there weren't any bones showing, it just looked kind of sad.

Mae's attention moved down the leg to Gregg's foot. She couldn't see how bad it was with his stupid rockabilly boot on. His ankle was torqued to the side, and pinned between a pair of rusty, metal rods. They looked like pieces of the frame of a bike. Tenderly, Mae reached out and tried to pull Gregg's foot free.

A groan of pain signaled to Mae that she needed to stop. She let go of Gregg's ankle for a moment and then tried again. And again. And again. Each attempt was met with pained protest from Gregg. Nevertheless, Mae kept trying until Gregg finally yelled at her to stop.

Mae fell on her butt, sitting in the mud and staring at Gregg's leg. All in all, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. With the way he had gotten stuck, his leg could have, like, gotten snapped clean off. That was something that could happen to legs, right? Probably.

Gregg had stopped crying out now, and was instead just lying on the ground, panting. All of that screaming had taken it out of him. He winced a bit in pain. His position, and the position of his leg, made it impossible for him to relax.

"Oh, god," Mae muttered. Seeing her friend laying there, his leg twisted like a pretzel, sent a wave of guilt over her. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Gregg. I-I heard a dude, and chased after him, and—"

"Dude," Gregg snapped. His tone took Mae by surprise. She'd never heard Gregg talk like that. He must have been in a lot of pain, with a lot of things going through his head. Despite his tone, though, he didn't look angry. Just disappointed.

"Dude," he repeated. "God, dude, stop. I ran after you. It's not your fault. Stop effing apologizing and get help!"

Get help? That was easier said than done. Mae stood and looked around her. Where could she possibly go to get help? It would take a while to get back into town, especially since Mae couldn't ride Gregg's bike. Did anyone live in these woods? Anyone with a phone?

Mae stopped as she realized that there was one option that was very close to them. She turned her attention towards the old glass factory that stood next to the ravine. The big skeleton that overlooked the town.

Surely there wouldn't be anyone in there. But it was the closest option, and Mae had to at least look. The factory was spooky, sure, but she had to get help for Gregg. If she didn't he'd probably die from having a broken leg or something.

"Okay," Mae muttered. She looked back to Gregg, who was wincing from the pain. "Okay, I'm going to look for help. Stay here."

Gregg blinked, and stared at Mae incredulously. "Dude, seriously?"

Despite the situation, Mae felt embarrassed. "Okay. Yeah. Dumb advice."

With that, she turned and sprinted towards the factory's entrance.

Normally, abandoned factories are inhabited only by wild animals, homeless people, and photographers taking pictures for their blogs. Mae didn't know anyone who would willingly hang out in a place like this. Well, maybe Germ, but he would probably hang out anywhere.

As Mae stepped into the building, she was struck by how grey everything was. Dust covered almost every square inch of the place. Even the light that filtered in through the windows had a strange, gray quality to it. For some reason, the whole place felt hopeless.

Mae made her way past the receptionist area, and soon found herself in the factory proper. The whole place felt weird to her. Mae could vaguely remember coming here once before, back when she was around four. She had been with her mom, and they had arrived to drop something up for her dad.

Back then, the factory had seemed so much bigger, and much livelier. There had been more colors, instead of just the color of the graffiti on the walls and floor.

While Mae navigated around the trash and broken glass on the floor, she became aware of a noise some distance ahead. It sounded like a hammer hitting something. A wall, maybe? Was someone working on something in here?

Mae began to make her way towards the sound. As it grew louder, she began to hear music playing softly. It was the unmistakable sound of butt rock. Whoever was hammering away at the wall had shitty taste in music.

The old, broken down machines obscured Mae's view, but she knew she was getting closer when the smell of glue filled the air. She hadn't smelled it out at the front of the factory, but here it was particularly powerful. Mae assumed that someone was doing some sort of secret project.

And, well, she was kind of right.

When Mae turned the corner around the machine, she saw two people. A great feeling of relief came over her, but it was swiftly crushed. She recognized both of these people, and had a feeling they wouldn't be of much help.

One of them was leaning against a machine, stoned out of his mind. There were only a couple of people Mae knew who would do drugs in an abandoned glass factory, so Mae easily deduced that this person was Levy. She also figured this out by, you know, looking at his face.

From the looks and smells of things, Levy had been sniffing glue. His eyes were glazed over, and a dopey grin was spread on his face. There was something kind of scary about seeing him like this. Like the factory, he seemed vaguely hopeless.

It was the other person, though, that really brought Mae's spirits down. He was hammering away at the wall, apparently trying to make a hole in the plaster. Mae could see pipes and wires, but evidently this wasn't what he was looking for. He had a pair of earbuds on, but the music he was listening to was so loud that Mae could hear it anyway.

And, when she saw this man hammering away, she said the only thing she could think of. She said his name.

"Effin Steve Scriggins," she growled angrily.

Steve seemed to be too busy listening to his music, so he didn't hear Mae.

"Effing Steve Scriggins!" She said, louder this time.

Steve cast a glance in Mae's direction. At first, he seemed confused to see her. Soon, though, a cruel smirk appeared on his face. Steve reached a hand into his pocket, and soon the music blaring from his earbuds shut off. He removed those earbuds, dropped his hammer, and dusted his hands off.

"What the hell are you even doing here?" Mae asked.

"I gotta have a reason?" Steve asked. Mae noticed a small pile of copper pipes neck to his feet. Even Mae, who didn't know whales weren't fish and couldn't even name all of the country's states, knew that copper was worth something. She also knew that Steve probably didn't have permission to yank those pipes out of the wall.

Whatever. Beggars can't be choosers. Mae would have to put aside her hatred for Steve if she wanted to get help for Gregg.

"Look, I don't have time for you to play your asshole card," Mae said. "I need help. Gregg's leg is broken and he's got it stuck in a buncha shit."

To Mae's disgust, Steve gave an amused little scoff. He stood up to face Mae and folded his arms over his chest. "So?" Steve asked. "Ain't my fault he got his leg effed up. I don't gotta do nothin' for him."

"You're a wonderful human being, Steve," Mae grumbled.

Steve just laughed at that. His dumb, annoying laugh. Mae didn't know why Gregg considered himself parking lot trash when Steve was around. Steven Effing Scriggins was a prime example of trash. He was a pile of trash that had been given life by a trash witch.

Mae glanced back over to Levy, hoping he'd in some way be helpful. The dazed way he stared back at her told Mae that wasn't very likely. He moved and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, would you get outta here?" Steve asked sharply. "Levy and me are in the middle of very important work. Go find someone else to help your girlfriend."

"I can never tell if you're being homophobic or sexist," Mae said. "It's like you're a constant mix of the two."

That turned Steve's smile upside-down. He rolled his eyes and made a sort of annoyed grunting sound. "God, you never stop with that shit, do you? Go jump in the ravine, Borowski."

"Go jump off a cliff, Scriggins," Mae snapped.

The two stood thee, glaring daggers at each other for a while. Mae wasn't leaving until she got some help. Steve probably had a car, right? Or, like, a really big bike, maybe? He was bound to have one of those two things.

The problem was that Steve was too big of a monster's ass to give them a ride in his car and/or giant bike. Appealing to his basic human decency wouldn't help. Instead, Mae thought, maybe she could strike some sort of deal? Gregg had made a deal with Steve last year. But what did Mae have to bargain with?

"Okay, look," Mae said, struggling to think of something to offer, "if you help me get Gregg to a doctor, I'll take you to the sewers and show you a really cool possum."

Steve's anger dissipated, giving way to sheer confusion. He didn't seem to know what to say. "What?" He asked. "Why would anybody want that?"

Okay, that plan was never going to work. It felt weird to use Rabies as a bargaining chip, anyway. Mae felt like she'd have to at least ask Germ for permission to do that. Besides, Scriggins would be a bad influence on little Rabies.

"Well, then, what do you want?" Mae asked desperately. "Please, he needs help. His leg's really bad."

Steve seemed to consider Mae's question for a bit. Much to Mae's horror, a wicked smile started to spread on the lowlife's face. He chuckled again, and began fishing around in his pockets for something.

"Okay," Scriggins said. "I'll help you out. But you gotta get somethin' for me."

Mae was suddenly considering just carrying Gregg back into town. There was something about Steve's tone that she didn't like. Mae had a feeling that, whatever he was about to ask for, it wouldn't be good.

"What do you want?" Mae asked slowly.

Steve's grin widened. "You were friends with Hartley, right?" Mae felt her heart leap in her chest. Had Steve even known Casey? Mae didn't think they'd had any classes together. Or had they gotten to know each other while Mae was off at college? The idea of Casey willingly associating with Scriggins filled Mae with a weird, sick feeling.

Nevertheless, she nodded in response to Steve's question.

"Okay," Steve said. "Then his folks'll let ya into his house, right? There's something I want, and it's in his room. Under the floorboards."

Mae instantly knew what Steve was talking about. Mae could remember the loose floorboards in Casey's room. She'd thought it was so cool that he had his own little hiding space like that. He'd kept all sorts of things under there. Mostly porn. Did Steve want porn? He could get porn for free online.

"Get your own porn," Mae said. Steve just laughed.

"Like I need any," he said. "I don't want any of his lame-ass magazines, Borowski. I want some of the shit he cooked up with his cousin. He should have some left, if he didn't sell all of it to Levy."

Levy suddenly sat up and took notice of the situation. He still looked out of it, but hearing his name seemed to have at least gotten his attention. Mae saw that he was holding his phone, fiddling around with it absent-mindedly. Mae was actually kind of surprised that Levy even had a phone. Not much call for one in a town with no reception.

Mae looked back at Steve, who was staring at her with an expectant look on his face. Mae guessed this settled whether or not Casey had been working with his cousin after all. Mae didn't like the idea of Casey being involved in actual criminal activities, but she was sure he'd had his reasons. And anyway, it didn't matter now.

"Fine," Mae grumbled. Before Gregg could chuckle again, she held up a hand. "Just help me get Gregg out of the ravine and into your car."

"Truck," Steve said. "It's a truck."

Mae rolled her eyes and gave an exhausted groan. "Fine. Okay. Whatever. Help me get Gregg into your truck, then."

"Look, don't get an attitude with me," Steve said. "You're the one who called my truck a car."

Mae threw her hands up in the air. Every conversation with Steve Scriggins was a literal nightmare. Mae suspected that the only reason Levy ever put up with Steve was because he was high out of his mind most of the time. The two of them weren't friends, so Mae had to assume the only reason they hung out was because of Crime.

"Okay, we literally do not have time for this," Mae said. "I left my best friend in a ravine with his leg twisted the eff up. If we don't get him to the hospital, he'll probably try and chew his leg off to escape."

For a moment, Steve actually looked kind of impressed. "Cool," he said. "Would he really do that?"

Mae was about to snap at Steve when Levy suddenly spoke up. "Hey, Mae," he said. Levy and Steve both looked at him in surprise. He'd been silent the whole time, so actually hearing his voice was kind of alarming.

"Yeah. Hi." Mae said, a tone of impatience in her voice. She didn't dislike Levy, but she couldn't put up with his druggy shenanigans right now. He still had his phone out in his lap, but he was no longer fiddling with the screen. Mae turned her attention back to Steve.

"Alright, come on," Mae said. She turned and began walking back to where she'd come in from. She made it a few feet before she realized Steve wasn't following her. Mae turned and saw the hoodlum standing there with his arms folded over his chest.

"What the effing hell, Steve?!" Mae practically screamed. Steve just snickered.

"I ain't goin' nowhere 'till I know you'll keep your end of the deal," he said. "See, Borowski, I don't really trust you. Your aunt's been on my ass plenty of times in the past. I need some guarantee you won't rat me out to her."

Mae was too panicked to let the mention of Aunt Molly get to her. Her only thoughts were of Gregg and his weird, weird leg. "My aunt's been missing for months!" Mae snapped. "I couldn't sell you out even if I wanted to! You'll get your shit, okay?"

Once again, Steve surprised absolutely no one by acting like a douche. Instead of following after Mae, he just laughed. "Oh, shit. Missing? Really? Sick." The smile on his face absolutely disgusted Mae. "Prob'ly got shot up by some hick up in the hills."

Mae almost couldn't process the sheer outrage she felt. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared down the Smirking Scriggins. Mae and Aunt Molly'd had a rough relationship, sure; and yeah, evidence pointed to her being in that cult. But even if Mae didn't like Aunt Molly, she'd loved her. She had been family.

And here was Steve, asshole of the century, joking about her getting shot. No matter how much Gregg needed help, Mae couldn't let that shit slide.

"You know what?" Mae asked. "Eff you, Scriggins. I'd rather carry Gregg into town myself than owe you anything. And I know he'd agree with me." Mae considered her words for a moment. "I don't mean he'd carry himself into town. I mean he'd agree you're a huge dick."

Steve opened his mouth to say something that would probably be either stupid or offensive. A noise cut him off, though. At first, Mae didn't recognize the sound. It wasn't a noise she'd been expecting to hear, after all. But when it sounded off again, she instantly knew what it was.

A car's horn.

Steve's anger at Mae was temporarily put aside in favor of confusion. He was looking past Mae, in the direction the noise had come from. A puzzled frown had replaced his scowl. "Who the hell's that?" Steve asked. "What's someone doin' out here?"

Mae almost pointed out that Steve was out here, but decided against it. She instead turned in surprise to see Levy standing up. His legs were shaky, and he was barely holding onto his phone. The local burnout reached his arm up and wiped his nose off on his hoodie's sleeve.

"'S Beth," Levy said. "I emailed her 'bout Gregg. She doesn't live far from here."

"You emailed Beth?" Mae asked, shocked. Levy nodded slowly in response, and held up his phone. That took Mae by surprise. She hadn't thought the WiFi beams would be able to reach out here. Didn't WiFi need towers? Probably. Mae wasn't an expert.

"Smooth move, jackass." Steve snapped. "I was makin' a deal to get you some more of that shit Casey made."

Levy blinked a few times. It seemed that he'd spaced out during that part of Mae and Steve's conversation. His blank, burnt out expression turned into a heavy frown. He looked like a kid who'd been told they weren't getting what they wanted for Longest Night. Mae almost felt bad for him. Almost.

She didn't have time to stick around and sympathize, though. Mae was already running out to get Gregg.

Possum Springs didn't have its own hospital. If you wanted medical attention from someone other than Dr. Hank the Hack, you had to make the ten to fifteen minute drive out to Briddle. Once you did that, you could meet with doctors who hadn't gotten their degrees off of sketchy Russian websites.

Beth had been more than helpful in freeing Gregg and getting him into her car. Mae could have kissed her for that. Beth Holstead was now her new hero. All hail Holstead. May she never OD or get hooked on meth.

They'd only made it so far before Gregg and Mae were separated. A couple of nurses had gotten Gregg onto a stretcher and rushed him into the ER. Mae had tried to follow, but another nurse had told her that only family members were allowed any further. Mae tried to insist she was Gregg's twin, but somehow that plan hadn't worked.

Mae had been sitting in the waiting area for maybe a half an hour when Angus burst in. He looked more panicked than Mae had ever seen him. The typically quiet, reserved man was sprinting towards the front desk, panting and wheezing when he came to a stop. Mae hopped out of her seat and hurried towards him.

He'd been Gregg's emergency contact, of course. Mae wasn't surprised. On top of being his boyfriend, Angus was just responsible in general. Mae was almost considering making him her emergency contact, too.

The nurse explained to Angus that the doctors were still tending to Gregg's leg, and that he'd be able to see him as soon as they were done. Angus seemed to calm down a little, but Mae could tell that the big guy was freaking out. She offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they walked back to take a seat.

It took Mae a few minutes to explain everything to Angus. She probably could have summarized it, but Mae instead chose to mention Steve and Levy and drag the story on forever. Angus didn't seem annoyed. He just seemed tired. Scared. Mae felt the same way.

"This is all my fault," Mae said when she was done. She looked down at her hands. To her surprise, Angus returned the pat on the shoulder. Mae looked up to see the big guy had a sympathetic frown on his face.

"Mae, Gregg chose to run after you," Angus said. "I would have done the same thing. If anyone's at fault, it's Gregg for not looking where he was going." There was a hint of anger in his voice, but Mae could tell that it was anger borne of worry.

More than that, though, Mae was kind of astounded that Angus was trying to comfort her while the man he loved lay in a hospital with a broken leg. Of course, Mae didn't know how serious this would turn out to be for Gregg and Angus. But she still couldn't believe Angus was able to worry about her at a time like this.

Angus was extremely good.

Mae wasn't sure how much time passed before a doctor came into the waiting room. He was a really serious-looking guy. Mae felt like he was probably the dad of someone she went to school with. She vaguely remembered seeing him at a career day back in grade school.

The doctor ushered Mae over, and Angus followed suit. The doctor didn't look terribly concerned. That was probably a good sign, right? Either that, or he just didn't care about Gregg. Mae, being as rational as she was, instantly assumed the latter was the case.

"Well," the doctor said. "The good news is, it isn't as bad as it looks. He isn't going to need any surgery."

Mae heard Angus let loose a sigh of relief. The big guy looked a lot less worried. Instead of terrified, he looked merely anxious.

"We've got his leg in a cast," the doctor continued. "He'll likely need to keep it on for around six weeks. He should be fine to go home, though."

"You're not going to, like, keep him overnight?" Mae asked. "His leg was all crooked and shit."

The doctor shook his head in a way that made Mae feel self-conscious. Had that been a dumb question? Mae didn't know a whole lot about broken legs, or hospitals, or doctors. Nobody did. Anyone who pretended to know something about hospitals and how they treated broken legs was a lair.

So, just to clarify, nobody knows how doctors work on broken legs. It's a mystery.

"Like I said, there's no need to perform surgery," the doctor said. "It's some mild angulation around the knee, as well as a mild sprain to the ankle. There's no reason for us to keep him here."

"Thank you," Angus said. He reached out and grabbed the doctor's hand, shaking it firmly. The doctor seemed unperturbed by this. He just kinda nodded. Mae respected that.

A nurse who looked like someone's creepy aunt wheeled Gregg out to the front of the building, where Angus was waiting with Bea's car. With the aid of a pair of crutches he had been provided, Gregg got out of the chair and hobbled into the backseat of the car.

The drive back to Possum Springs was tense and quiet. Neither Gregg nor Angus seemed to have anything to say. Mae could feel herself practically drowning in the awkward silence.

Gregg had his leg stretched out along the backseat. Thankfully, Gregg was kind of short. Even though Bea's car wasn't super big, he still had room for his cast.

Mae hadn't liked seeing the cast. Something about Gregg's big, new mummy leg made her feel weird. Was it guilt? Or was it just the fact that something about Gregg had changed? The addition of the cast made him seem different. Mae's sense of familiarity was thrown out of whack.

After five minutes of driving in silence, Mae couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. She felt awful about this whole mess. Even though Angus had said it wasn't her fault, part of Mae knew that he was just trying to make her feel better. He had every right to blame her for Gregg's accident. She'd gone running after something she'd thought she'd heard, and Gregg had gotten hurt because of it.

Nice job, Borowski. A+ Friendship right there.

Neither of them responded right away. Mae could hear the gears turning in their heads. Both of them were wondering whether they should say it was okay, or that it wasn't her fault. Mae wasn't sure she'd believe either answer.

"It's not your fault," Gregg said. Mae looked over into the backseat. To her surprise, Gregg looked fairly guilty himself.

"I was dumb," Gregg said. "I went running after you. I didn't stop myself." A laugh escaped him. It was a sad, bitter bark of a laugh. "God, some adult I'm turning out to be. I keep talking about how I'm done doing stupid shit, and then something like this happens."

"Bug, stop," Angus said firmly. From the sound of his voice, he wasn't done worrying about Gregg. "You were worried about her. It's in the past. Just… don't beat yourself up. Okay? We'll work this out."

Mae didn't understand what Angus meant like that. Even though they were all around the same age, Gregg and Angus lived in a different world. A world of medical bills and rent payments, where they had to think of stuff like insurance and loans.

It was probably a good thing Mae didn't live in that world. If she did, she'd feel even more guilty.

The atmosphere turned quiet again. There were a lot of unspoken emotions inside of that tiny sedan. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness, hopelessness; nothing good, to say the very least.

Later, of course, Gregg and Angus would talk and clear the air. Bright Harbor would have to be put on hold for the time being, and they'd deal with that. They would make peace with it.

For now, though, there was just the long car ride home, and the silence it carried with it.

#Ghosts in the Woods #night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #mae borowski #gregg #greggory Lee #angus delaney #steve scriggins #nitw postgame #postgame #fan fiction #nitw fanfic #part 15

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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((New entries will be links only. Copy-and-pasting chapters into tumblr was too much work, and fanfiction.net is easier to read on.))

#nitw #night in the woods #nitw mae #nitw bea #Bea #beatrice santello #mae borowski #nitw jackie #Ghosts in the Woods #nitw fanfic #postgame #nitw postgame #fan fiction #part 16

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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Mae hadn't wanted to come to Dr. Feldman's office. If she hadn't made a promise to Bea, she probably wouldn't have. But she had, and she did, and now she was here. Mae had dreaded the whole car ride up to his office in Briddle. She'd dreaded the short wait in the waiting room. And she'd dreaded the walk down the hallway into Dr. Feldman's sparse office.

The problem was that Mae didn't want to confront her problems. She didn't want to talk about them. Talking about something made it more real.

And besides all that, Mae knew that Feldman would think she was crazy. Everything that happened in the last month aside, Mae had a lot of issues to work through. She hadn't heard Casey talk to her for a few days, but she was still having dreams.

Not about Possum Leap, though. No, Mae's dreams had moved on into the dark, cold recesses of the mines. Usually, she was all alone in those dreams. She hadn't been visited by Casey, or the janitor, or those spooky ghost musicians.

Just Mae. Alone. Mae hated being alone.

"So," Dr. Feldman said when he and Mae had taken their seats, "how have you been? Any interesting stories to tell?"

Oh, boy did she ever. But Mae didn't know exactly what she could or couldn't talk about. Her birthday? Her dreams? The cult? Probably not that, huh? That'd be a bad thing to bring up. So, instead, Mae decided to talk about what Dr. Feldman had wanted to hear from the beginning.

"I actually wanted to start today by talking about the softball incident," Mae said quietly.

That seemed to take Dr. Feldman by surprise. He sat up, taking notice, and put his pen to his notes. From the look of things, he hadn't been expecting this. Hell, Mae hadn't been expecting it, either.

"Oh, okay," Dr. Feldman said. He looked deeply interested in whatever Mae had to say. Mae guessed that's just how therapists acted when they were about to hear about the time their patient nearly killed a kid.

Mae took a deep breath. This wasn't a story she liked telling. It wasn't anything she liked to think about. But, again, she had made that promise to Bea. Even if Mae was utter garbage, and even if she couldn't do anything on her own, she could keep a promise to her best friend.

"Like, I guess my parents told you the basics, but I don't know if they could explain it super well," Mae said. "Hell, I don't know how well I can explain it."

"Would it help you to write it down?" Dr. Feldman asked.

Mae kind of laughed at that. "No," she said. "I mean, maybe? I feel like if I took the time to write it down, I'd wuss out. So I want to get everything out in the air right now. Well, almost everything. All the important stuff."

"That's plenty," Feldman said, smiling a bit. "The important stuff is the most… well, important."

Mae could only nod at that. Like, he wasn't wrong. There wasn't really any way to argue with that.

"Alright," Mae said. She took a deep breath, psyching herself up. On the car ride over, Mae had been so certain she'd be able to talk about it. Now, though, while she sat on Dr. Feldman's uncomfortable couch? Mae found it incredibly difficult to muster up the courage she needed.

"It all started happening a little while after my granddad died," Mae explained. "I was super into this computer game where you dated ghosts."

"Spook Smoochers?" Dr. Feldman asked. Mae looked up at him in confusion.

"Er, no," Mae said. "That wasn't it." A thought occurred to her. "Are there multiple games where you can date ghosts? Is that, like, a genre?"

Dr. Feldman looked a bit embarrassed. Mae guessed he might have had personal experience playing Spook Smoochers, and was embarrassed about his secret getting out. "Never mind that," he said. "Please, continue."

Mae nodded hurriedly, and looked down at her feet. She was starting to realize that she was wringing her hands together. "Right, so, I was super into this game. The story, the characters, they all felt real, you know? I was spending almost all of my time playing it."

"Why?"

That question caught Mae off-guard. She hadn't really expected Dr. Feldman to interject during her story. She looked up at him, his glasses lowered as he returned her glance. He held his pen to his notepad, seemingly in the middle of writing something down. Mae had to wonder what he had written so far.

"Why?" Mae repeated. "I mean, it was a good game. I just spent a lot of my free time playing it."

"Does part of you think you spent too much time playing it?" Feldman asked.

Again, Mae was caught by surprise. What did that question have to do with her story? They weren't going to get anywhere if Feldman kept saying words at her. Surely, as a therapist, he must have known that asking questions was rude, and he shouldn't do it.

Now that Mae thought about it, though, how much had she played that game? Certainly a lot. She could still quote parts of it. But too much? Mae wasn't so sure about that. Was there such a thing as too much video games?

That was a dumb question; of course there wasn't.

This thinking was getting Mae nowhere. Feldman was visibly waiting for an answer.

"Maybe?" Mae said noncommittally. "Kinda? I dunno. It was just a thing I did. It isn't important. I just loved that game a lot, okay? But one day…" Mae paused and took in a deep breath. She hadn't really talked about this since that night on the couch.

"One day, I realized something. The game I played, with its stories and characters, was just a… thing. Everything was just things. Just stuff connected to other stuff. And I cried. I looked out the window, saw all the things and the shapes, and I just…"

"You dissociated?" Feldman asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Mae looked up at him.

"I guess?" She said. "That's the word my friend Bea used. So, yeah, I guess I disassociated the hell out of everything."

"Dissociated," Feldman corrected gently. Mae paid him no mind.

"Things sort of got better for the rest of the day," Mae said. "Like, it scared the shit out of me, but the next day I tried to convince myself it was some sort of dream. I did that 'cause our church was having this softball game, and I was playing and didn't wanna miss it."

Feldman nodded and wrote something down in his notes. "And that's when the incident happened?" He asked.

Mae nodded hurriedly. "Yeah. I got up to bat, and suddenly everything was just… wrong. The whole world was just colors and shapes. The kid I hurt, his name was Andy Cullen, and he was pitching for some bible camp in Briddle. I don't know why I went after him. Maybe just because he was right in front of me? But I got onto him, and I swung my bat down on him over and over, and…"

Shapes. Red shapes all over the grass. Mae shuddered.

"Dr. Hank said it was an anger problem," she sighed. "And he told me I needed to suppress it. I didn't tell him about how nothing was real. I was scared that, if I talked about it, it would happen again." A sad laugh escaped Mae. "Fat lot of good that did. It happened loads of times. It's why I dropped out of college."

"I don't know who this Dr. Hank is, but he sounds like a hack," Feldman said.

"Yeah, we used to call him Dr. Hack," Mae said. "He means well, but he's kind of an idiot. A big one."

Mae looked back down at her feet. She was kind of amazed at how she'd been able to say all of that. She felt like she was going to pass out, or cry, but it was still fairly impressive. Nice job, Mae. Way to say things to a guy sitting in a chair. Go team!

"Well, I'm glad you told me about this," Feldman said. "Dissociation is… well, it's not pleasant. But it's also not uncommon. If we can get to the root of the problem, Mae, we can help you learn to deal with this."

Deal with? Mae didn't want to deal with her problems. She wanted them to stop. Wasn't that what therapists were for?

"I mean, I'm better than I was," Mae said defensively. "I went through some stuff last year that kinda… I dunno, I guess it helped me out with some of my problems. Not all of them, though."

Mae sort of shrugged, her head still bowed down. Last year might have sorted some things out, but it had left Mae with a slew of secrets. Things she couldn't tell people. Things people were better off not knowing. Things like the sight of a man getting crushed under an elevator.

Actually, that had been kinda cool.

Dr. Feldman tapped his pen against his notepad, seemingly deep in thought. "Okay, Mae, the next time you come in here, I'm going to have a questionnaire for you."

Oh, god, Mae thought. Was he going to make her fill out a medical history thing? Mae hated those things. Mae hated filling things out. It made her feel like she was back in school, filling out worksheets for Mrs. Harlon's math class. God, that old lady had had it in for Mae. Just because Mae never did any work and was always talking to Casey.

Dr. Feldman, who was oblivious to Mae's train of thought, continued. "I suppose you could call it a mental health assessment. It should help us get a handle on what might have triggered your dissociative episode."

Mae blinked uncomprehendingly. She was already forgetting the name of… whatever it was that had happened to her. Disco something?

"I guess that's okay," Mae said. "Thanks, Bort."

Feldman looked up from his notepad in surprise. "Did you just call me Bort?" He asked.

Mae nodded. "Yeah. I know you wanted me to call you by your first name and junk. I feel like I've been kinda rude to you, so—"

"My name is Bart," the therapist said. "Bart. Not Bort."

Mae just frowned. "Oh, weird," she said. "Why did I think your name was Bort?"

The rest of the appointment carried on without much of note. Mae spent most of it describing other episodes she'd had in her life. It didn't feel good to remember those times. Sometimes, Mae wished she could just forget her time at college, or her episode in the mines.

That probably wasn't gonna happen, though, huh?

The long walk out of Feldman's office and to the waiting room gave Mae some time to reflect on things. Feldman had said that, depending on how she answered the questionnaire, Mae might need medication. For some reason, that made Mae feel guilty. Her parents were already spending money on these appointments; they shouldn't have to spend money on medicine, too.

The car ride home from Briddle was awkward. All of Mae's car rides had been kind of awkward, lately. Mae's mom had asked her about what Mae and Dr. Feldman had talked about. Mae told her. And then they spent the rest of the car ride listening to the radio.

Mae had woken up early for the appointment, so on the car ride home, Mae had planned on taking a nap. Waking up at two in the afternoon took a lot out of a girl, after all. But when they actually got home, Mae was surprised by the amount of energy she had.

Talking to Dr. Feldman had been really tiring, but now Mae suddenly felt all hyper. It was nothing new, of course. Mae often had random bouts of hyperactivity. She just hadn't felt this one coming.

Mae hugged her mom goodbye and sprinted off into town. It was amazing how different Possum Springs seemed when it wasn't early in the evening. Selmers wasn't on her stoop. Mr. Chazokov wasn't on his roof. Less people were out and about having conversations.

Old Man Varney was still sitting on his porch, but that was to be expected. Mae was pretty sure he was on disability or something; some bad accident at the old glass factory. Normally, Mae would have gone up onto his porch to bug him, but today she just wanted to explore the town.

When was the last time Mae had been out and about before four in the afternoon? January, maybe? Mae couldn't be sure. But the whole world seemed different, and Mae wanted to see more of it.

At first, Mae had planned on dropping by the Ol' Pickaxe. She wanted to talk to Bea about her appointment with Feldman. Aside from her parents, Bea was the person Mae probably talked to the most about her appointments. Bea had helped Mae's parents find Dr. Feldman, after all.

Mae's plan was ruined, however, when she reached the edge of Underhill and she literally bumped into one of the last people she wanted to see.

"Oh, jeez!" Said a friendly, familiar voice. The man Mae had bumped into turned around, and seemed to instantly recognize her. "Oh my god, is that you, Mae? I heard you were back in town! How are you?"

It was Sam. Casey's stepdad. He was probably one of the hugest guys in Possum Springs, built like a linebacker or some sort of mutant rhino person. Despite his size, though, Sam had always been one of the chillest, dorkiest guys in town. Mae had always thought that he was really cool.

He looked older. Everyone looked older after coming back from college. More than that, though, he looked… rougher. Sam had stubble now, which was something Mae didn't recognize. His eyes looked very, very tired. He had a big, cheery smile on his face, but even then, there was something incredibly sad about him.

Okay, how many people was this now? Cole, Andy Cullen, and now Casey's stepdad? Had Mae been cursed by some sort of awkward witch?

"Hey, Sam," Mae said. She offered a small, awkward wave to the older man. That was good and normal, right? Nothing about this said 'Hey, I know an awful truth about your missing son's fate'. "Been a while, huh?"

Sam laughed again, nodding. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Gosh, look at you! You look so adult now!"

That was a clear falsehood, but Mae didn't hold it against him. Sam was just trying to be friendly. He had always been like that. Mae guessed it was a stepdad thing. He tried too hard to get along with his stepson's friends.

"Yeah, I'm, like, 21 now," Mae said. "The last big adult milestone. It's all downhill from here."

Sam seemed to pout a little bit. "Hey, now," he said, "don't be like that! You've got a long life ahead of you! You're smart; you'll do something with your life."

Mae had only been joking. She hadn't been fishing for a pep talk. It hadn't been an especially good pep talk, either. Mae felt decidedly unpeppy.

Silence fell upon them for a moment. Thankfully, this awkward silence didn't last very long. Sam gave Mae a small, curt nod. "Well, I gotta go," he said. Mae returned the nod.

As she began walking away towards the Pickaxe, though, she heard Sam call out to her. "Hey, Mae," Sam said. "By any chance, have you heard from Casey?" When he spoke, he sounded hesitant. It was like he wasn't sure if there was any point to his question.

Mae froze. For a brief moment, she felt almost sick. She looked over her shoulder at Sam. He didn't look hopeful, despite the smile on his face. Mae quietly gathered the courage she needed to say what she had to say.

"No," Mae said slowly. "I haven't. Sorry. Like, the last time I heard from him was last spring."

Sam's expression grew subtly sadder, like a balloon slowly deflating. He gave a bittersweet smile and nodded. "I thought so," he said, sighing softly. "Thank you, Mae. It was good to see you."

"Yeah. You too," Mae lied. She turned forward and began to trudge on towards the Pickaxe.

The Pickaxe in the afternoon wasn't very different from the Pickaxe in the evening. There weren't any customers. There weren't any employees. There was just Bea, standing at the counter. She seemed noticeably surprised to see Mae walk in through the shop's door.

Mae felt herself relax a bit. In here, there were no sad stepdads or kids she'd assaulted. Just Bea and presumably whoever was working in the back. With a small smile, Mae walked up to the counter. When she reached Bea, she leaned against the countertop and rested on her arm.

"Look who's up and about," Bea said. Her tone was as dry as ever. Clearly, she'd gotten over her surprise.

"Yeah, I'm a real early bird," Mae said. "Look at me, getting shit done all day every day."

"No, seriously, why are you up so early?" Bea asked.

Mae frowned. Darn it. Somehow, Bea had seen through Mae's airtight lie. Nothing got past the Mom Friend.

"I mean, I had an appointment with Feldman," Mae said. "Went and talked to him about… stuff. Some stuff. Not all the stuff, obviously. Not enough time for all the stuff." Mae kind of shrugged. To anyone else, this might have sounded really vague.

To Bea, though? Well, she probably still thought it was really vague. But she at least seemed to get what Mae was saying. Though her expression didn't change much, Mae could tell that Bea was happy. And that made Mae happy.

Everyone was happy in the Ol' Pickaxe. Except for maybe whoever was working in the back.

Mae filled Bea in on as much as she could. Going over the appointment made Mae feel tired and her surprising burst of energy from earlier was quickly being depleted. Mostly, Mae wanted to put the appointment behind her.

When she was done, Mae let loose a soft sigh. Bea, who had started smoking a fresh cigarette, gave Mae a small, respectful nod. "Thanks for listening to what I said," Bea said. "I mean, you know. Thanks for trying to get better."

"Doesn't feel like I was trying too hard," Mae mumbled. "Feels like I'm just talking about stuff."

"Talking about stuff's the first step," Bea said. She took a drag of her cigarette and folded her arms on the counter. If any customers actually came in, they'd probably think that Bea was slacking off. "Like, I don't know what you expected, but therapy is mostly talking."

Mae had expected weird drugs and cool hypnosis. She didn't say this out loud, though. Bea would probably think it was stupid. And, yeah, Mae guessed it was kind of stupid. But Mae didn't have a lot of faith in her ability to talk her problems away. Mae felt like she needed extra help if she was going to beat this.

No. 'Beat' wasn't the right word. Mae had a feeling that, whatever she had, it was going to keep going until the day she died. It wasn't something she could beat. It was something she had to live with. And the thought of that, of always being afraid of another breakdown, was the most terrifying thing to Mae. It was scarier than any eldritch monster or cult of dads out there.

Mae let loose another sigh. She realized she'd been spacing out again for a few minutes. Bea looked mildly concerned. "Whatever," Mae muttered. "God, these last few days have been kinda garbage."

"How so?" Bea asked. She placed her cigarette back between her lips.

Mae threw her arms up in a helpless shrug. "Well, for starters, I ran into Casey's stepdad outside," she said.

Bea's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, god," she said. Her tone was fairly apologetic. "What was that like?"

"Sad," Mae said. "Sad and awkward. Like, I remember him being a lot happier just a few years ago. Seeing him look so sad just feels kind of wrong, you know?"

Bea was kind of quiet for a bit. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean," she said quietly. She took another, longer drag of her cigarette, and then let loose a sigh. Mae got the feeling that a change of topic was necessary.

"So, yeah. How's your day going?" Mae asked, trying her best to give a natural smile. She had a feeling it looked fake as hell, though. Way to go, Mae.

Bea, at least, didn't seem to mind Mae's fake-ass smile. She held her cigarette between her fingers as she thought. "Well, we're getting a lot of, like, tools and shit in this week," she explained. "Spring and summer are kinda busy. Everyone doing their little projects. Kind of a pain to unload everything."

"I could help," Mae said. The words had escaped before she even realized she'd said them. "I mean, like Germ helps you. Obviously, I'd wanna get paid more than him."

Bea stared at Mae skeptically. "Mae, I love you, and you're practically my sister," Bea said. Mae winced. Bea only said stuff like that when she was about to roast Mae completely and utterly. "But I absolutely do not trust you to handle anything in this shop. Like, not even the tourism brochures. I'm worried you'd choke on them."

Mae felt herself begin to pout. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Bea grumpily. "Fine, whatever," Mae said. "Have fun carrying a bunch of hammers and shit with your best friend Germ."

Bea was quiet for a second. She seemed to be slowly realizing something. "Actually," she said, "I haven't seen Germ since we went out for your birthday. I mean, I don't regularly hang out with him or anything, but I usually see him around."

That was definitely a little odd. Mae was starting to realize that she also hadn't seen Germ around. He hadn't been at their last band practice. He hadn't been out in the Food Donkey parking lot the last few times Mae had been there.

Mae felt like she should be more worried than she was. Germ was kind of enigmatic, though. It was hard to be concerned about him. The little guy had a quiet intensity that made it seem like he could handle himself. Plus, he had mace.

Well, Gregg had probably seen him. Gregg and Germ did a lot of hanging out. They were bike buddies. Mae made a mental note to ask Gregg about it the next time she saw him.

Then, she completely forgot about the mental note and started talking to Bea again.

"So, when's the next Jackie party?" Mae asked.

Bea placed her cigarette back between her lips. "Like, next week, I think?" Bea said. She looked off to the side, contemplating something, and then returned her attention to Mae. "Are you sure you wanna go? Your last party was kind of… not so great."

"Oh, Bea of little faith," Mae said, shaking her head. "You don't seem to understand. A cute girl is on the line. I need to go to this party. I gotta get Bombshell's info." Mae's eyes narrowed as she stared intently off into the distance. "I gotta, Bea."

That got a chuckle out of Bea. "Okay, okay, point made," she said. "Far be it from me to get in the way of you actually socializing with someone outside of your normal circle of friends. This time, though, try not to forget to get her number."

"If I forget a third time, I might actually die?" Mae said.

Bea laughed again, and that brought a smile to Mae's face. At least, it would have, if Mae wasn't losing all of her energy. She needed to take a couple of naps before she got up to any business with her friends.

As if it were triggered somehow by her having this thought, Mae let loose a powerful yawn. Bea snickered at that, and waved Mae off cheerfully.

"Okay, you," Bea said. "Get going. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah," Mae muttered. "I'll see ya around, Beebee." With a nod, Mae turned towards the exit. Tired step after tired step, she walked out the door and into the early spring sun.

The streets were still fairly empty. A couple of hours until people started getting out of work or school. Off towards the side, though, by the old war memorial next to the Pickaxe, Mae thought she saw someone. They were mostly obscured by the brickwork, but the barest hint of their frame was visible at the corner.

Though she was tired, Mae's curiosity got the better of her. When she walked towards the memorial to get a better look, however, the figure darted in the opposite direction. Mae barely got a look at them as they ran off.

Okay, that wasn't suspicious or anything.

Mae didn't have the energy to chase after weirdos in the middle of the day. Besides, she'd probably just spooked them. Even with all the weird stuff going on lately, Mae didn't think every random person was a cultist, probably.

With a shrug, Mae turned and began walking homewards.

#part 14 #Ghosts in the Woods #night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #nitw bea #mae borowski #Bea #beatrice santello #postgame #nitw postgame #nitw fanfic #fan fiction

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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Mae work up feeling the worst she'd felt in a long, long time. Her head was pounding. She felt as if she was going to be sick. Somehow, she could still taste the soda from that stupid cocktail. Mae guessed that she hadn't eaten anything to get rid of the taste since leaving the club.

Had she? Mae's last memory was being essentially carried into her house by Gregg and Angus. Bea had helped her into bed and Germ… God, who knows? He'd disappeared sometime between her going to sleep and them arriving at her home.

Everything about last night was fuzzy. She'd had a serious talk with her friends. Mae remembered that, at least. She also remembered making an idiot out of herself in front of Cole. Again. At least she hadn't puked in front of him. That probably meant Cole's luck was improving!

When Mae went downstairs, she found that her mom had already left for church. Mae must have slept in even later than usual. That was probably for the best. After the dream she'd had about Aunt Mall Cop, Mae didn't know how she'd feel about talking to her mom.

Mae grabbed something quick to eat before she headed out the front door. The sudden sunlight hurt her eyes, and aggravated her hangover even further. Stupid spring with its stupid sunlight. This was why Mae loved the fall. It fitted her sleep cycle much better.

Mae almost didn't feel like she could make her way across town that day. Her late-evening breakfast felt heavy in her stomach. As she got walking, though, Mae gradually felt herself getting better. She still felt miserable, but at least she wasn't horribly miserable.

As usual, it didn't take Mae long to get to Underhill. Once she got there, she saw Possum Spring's greatest poet sitting on their front step. Mae wondered what all Selmers did with her day. Had she gotten that job at Ham Panther? Did she spend all day sitting on a stoop, thinking up poems?

Mae walked around to the front of the stoop. Selmers immediately gave a friendly, mellow smile when she saw her. "Heya, neighbor," she said. Her smile seemed to falter. "Oh, wow. You okay?"

Oh, jeez, was it really that obvious? Mae sighed. "Saw my ex at a club," she said. "Drank a bunch at a club. Then I had weird dreams and confronted my inner problems."

"Wow, jeez," Selmers said. "Bad hangover?"

"I've been asleep for, like, half a day," Mae grumbled. "How do I still have a hangover? Shouldn't it have worn off?"

"They can last for a while," Selmers said. "That's why I don't drink too much. I mean, if Miller's did karaoke more often, I'd prob'ly drink every night, but…"

"We need to get you a dedicated karaoke place," Mae said. "Or someone should buy one of those machines or something. Whatever you call 'em."

"I think they're just called karaoke machines," Selmers said.

"Oh," Mae said. For some reason, that was really disappointing.

"So, you up to anything today?" Selmers asked. Mae could only shrug in response.

"I dunno. It's been an intense weekend. I kinda just want to relax and do whatever." As soon as Mae said this, though, she realized she was tempting fate. Life hadn't been giving her any brakes lately. It was probably going to keep sucking for a while.

"That's cool," Selmers said. "I'm probably gonna work on my poems. Been having the worst writer's block lately. I've only written a little. Wanna hear what I wrote?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Mae said with a laugh. Selmers and her poems always helped cheer Mae up. Even if it was one of her long, intense poems, Selmers usually had something to improve Mae's mood. Today would probably be no exception.

Selmers smiled, cleared her throat, and began to recite. "I had a dream about a dog," she said, her voice carrying a certain rhythm as she spoke. When she was done, she paused.

Mae stood there and waited patiently for Selmer to continue. After a few second, however, Mae realized that Selmers hadn't been joking about the writer's block. "Is that it?" Mae asked.

Selmers nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Don't know what to write next. I don't remember the dog dream all that well." She shrugged in a way that said 'What're you gonna do?' and leaned back on the stoop. Even when struggling in the face of creative sterility, Selmers remained mellow. Mae really admired that.

"Well," Mae said. "I'm gonna head out and see what Bea's doing. I feel like I need some Bea time."

Selmers shrugged again. "I don't really know who Bea is, but okay."

The Ol' Pickaxe. The ol'est store in town. It was so ol' that it had been built before they invented the letter D. At least, that's the lie Mae had told the Harleys once. They'd been dumber back then, though. Mae didn't know if they'd buy that sort of thing now.

The store was still open when Mae dropped by. She'd been a little worried that she'd slept past its closing. Mae really needed to start looking at clocks, or learning what time people did things. Eh. That was a chore for another day.

Bea was behind the counter, like always. She had a lit cigarette in her mouth. Mae always thought it was kind of odd that Bea could get away with smoking at work. Then again, Possum Springs was small enough that Bea likely didn't get many complaints. Possum Springs was like its own weird little world.

There was an awkward silence when Mae made her way to the counter. While Mae couldn't remember much about last night, she knew that she and Bea had kind of gotten into it. Mae hoped she hadn't forgotten about another of Bea's dead relatives. There'd be egg on her face then.

It was Bea who broke the silence. "Hey," she said. From the sound of her voice, she was clearly apologetic. "How you holding up?"

Mae sighed. The walk from Underhill to the Pickaxe had not helped her hangover. "Barely," she grumbled. "Sorry for being an ass last night."

"Me too," Bea said. "I mean, I'm glad I said what I said, but not how I said it. Just… yeah." Bea took a drag of her cigarette and pulled it from her lips. "I'm also sorry I didn't stop you from drinking a whole cocktail in less than three minutes."

Mae winced. "Can we just go ahead and blame Cole for that? I wouldn't have drunk it so fast if he hadn't shown up."

Bea raised an eyebrow and gave Mae a skeptical look. "I don't think you can blame your ex for your poor impulse control," she said. "If you'd talked to him like a normal person, you wouldn't have rushed to get wasted. Again."

"When have I ever been able to talk like a normal person?" Mae asked. "Especially around Cole? You can't talk like a normal person around someone you nearly killed and then puked on."

Bea considered this as she placed her cigarette back between her lips. "I mean, that's a good point," she said. "I guess I've never been in that position, so I wouldn't know."

That got Mae thinking a little. "Have you ever actually kissed someone?" She asked. "I mean, besides the dude you had sex with at math camp."

Mae, internally, had decided to call the guy who Bea had lost her virginity to 'Math Boy Joe.'

Bea groaned, rolling her eyes. "God, I wish you'd never heard that story," she said. "Look, I went on one or two dates while you were at college. Never went very far, though. So, yes, I have kissed and been kissed."

"Anyone I know?" Mae asked. She was feeling pretty gossipy.

Bea at least didn't look annoyed. She crossed her arms over her chest, seeming to think about it. "I went out for coffee with this guy Jackie introduced me to," she said. "Guy turned out to be a douche, though, so we only kissed once. Then there was Steve—"

That made Mae's eyes widen. As far as she knew, there was only one Steve in Possum Springs. "Scriggins?!" Mae blurted out. "You kissed Effing Steve Scriggins?!"

Bea looked a little bit embarrassed. Actually, she looked ashamed. If she'd kissed Steve, Mae couldn't blame her. "Believe me, it's not something I look back on fondly," Bea muttered. "It wasn't even a good kiss. He used too much tongue."

"You kissed with tongue?!" Mae asked.

"Is that really more surprising than me having sex?" Bea asked, perplexed.

Mae opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of the bell over the Pickaxe's door ringing interrupted her. Ordinarily, Mae would have kept on talking, but for some reason she didn't. Judging by the shocked, surprised look on Bea's face, it was probably a good thing Mae wasn't talking.

Bea gave Mae a worried look. The look in Bea's eyes said 'Mae, don't freak out or anything, but there's a dude behind you who you'll freak out about.'

Mae gave Bea a look of her own. The look in Mae's eyes said 'Jeez, Bea, I'm not a mind reader. I don't understand what you're trying to say.' And with that bit of non-conversation out of the way, Mae turned around. When she saw who was at the door, she immediately began to wonder if she was under some sort of curse.

Because standing in the front door of the Ol' Pickaxe was Cole.

Running into Cole at the club had been a pretty unbelievable coincidence. Running into him again, at the Ol' Pickaxe? That was God or whatever screwing with her.

For a second or two, Cole and Mae just stared at each other. It seemed that even stupid, well-balanced Cole felt awkward after last night. He nodded at Mae and Bea, waving a little. Mae couldn't do anything except return the nod.

There was an uncomfortable quiet all throughout the shop. Nobody seemed to know exactly what to say. The silence was shattered by someone in the back dropping something heavy onto their foot. That seemed to snap at least Bea back to reality.

"Uh, hey," she said. "Did you need anything?"

Cole cleared his throat, trying politely to avoid making eye contact with Mae. "My dad wanted me to pick up an order for him," he said. "I guess he ordered some sort of special hammer, or something?"

Bea nodded. "Oh, yeah," she said. "The special hammer. I know what you're talking about. It's in the back." She quietly observed the room.

Mae shot her a look that said 'Oh God Bea don't leave me here. I'll puke on him again somehow.'

Bea shot Mae a look that said 'I actually have a job to do. You can be alone with him for five minutes.' With that, she turned and walked into the back of the store. By the time Mae found enough voice to ask her to stop, Bea had disappeared behind the doorframe.

For a while, Mae and Cole just tried to politely avoid staring at each other. Mae found herself looking at anything else. Hammers, brochures, cash register, weird guy with a mustache in the back… nothing held Mae's attention long.

It was Cole who spoke first. Of course it was. Cole seemed determined to be as casual as possible about this whole weird thing.

"So, did you have a good birthday?" He asked. He didn't sound as friendly as he did last night. It seemed like he was just trying to make conversation. That asshole.

"God, what are you even doing here?" Mae said under her breath. When she actually heard herself, though, Mae realized she hadn't been as quiet as she'd hoped. She'd been loud enough for Cole to hear her, for one.

"My dad ordered a special hammer," Cole said.

Mae groaned. "No, I mean what are you doing in Possum Springs?"

Cole blinked. His stupid, cute, glasses-wearing face looked confused, and also stupid. "I told you all about it last night," he said. "I'm in town for a few weeks because of those scorpions."

Mae stared blankly at Cole. She must have really gotten drunk last night if she didn't remember a story involving scorpions. Scorpions were like little insect tanks, prowling the deserts in search for vengeance.

Unfortunately, Mae couldn't keep thinking about scorpions like she might have wanted to. She was too distracted by stupid Cole and his stupid standing around. What was taking Bea so long with that special hammer?

And what was a special hammer, anyway?

Stupid Cole, showing up out of the blue. Just like Andy Cullen. It was like coming back to Possum Springs was digging up all sorts of ghosts.

Cole stood there, hands in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his heels. He didn't seem to know exactly what to say. This whole situation was probably pretty bad for him, too.

The awkward silence was getting to Mae. God. Fine. If Cole wasn't going to be a mature adult and say something, Mae would.

"Every time I see you I start tasting candied almonds and I feel like I'm gonna puke up my guts," Mae said. Probably not the most flattering thing to say, but it at least ended the awkward silence.

Cole stared at Mae, baffled. "I'm sorry?" He said.

"Oh my god, stop apologizing, you huge nerd!" Mae said. "Why are you so nice all of the time?! I nearly killed you!"

Cole blinked, seemingly not understanding what Mae was saying. "You mean at prom?"

That threw Mae for a loop. What else could she possibly be talking about? "Yes, at prom!" Mae said, practically shouting in disbelief. "Why would I not be talking about prom?! That was, like, one of the most humiliating nights of my life!"

Cole was silent for a bit. He pulled his hand from his pocket and rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, I was unconscious for part of it," he said. His expression was fairly sheepish. "A lot of that night is fuzzy. I mostly remember hanging with you and then driving home."

Okay, that kind of made sense. Mae had seriously choked him out when she'd stuffed those paper towels into his mouth. Still, Mae felt like he was taking this far too lightly.

"Wait," Cole said. "Is that why you don't like seeing me? Because I remind you of prom?" Cole looked absolutely flabbergasted. Him and his ridiculous trucker hat that he'd apparently started wearing. "This whole time I thought you were mad at me for avoiding you."

"What?" Mae asked. She certainly hadn't expected to hear that. "Dude, I was mostly mad at you for, like, bailing on me and leaving me stranded at prom. You avoiding me was completely understandable."

After prom, they'd both sort of avoided each other. Mae supposed they hadn't so much broken up, as they'd just sort of… stopped talking to each other? It was sort of anticlimactic, but their relationship had been a big, dumb teenage nothing. It didn't really need a big, dramatic breakup.

When Mae brought up Cole leaving her at prom, his face took on a guilty expression. "Oh," he said. "Oh, yeah. I didn't even think to apologize for that until after I'd left for college. God, I don't blame you for hating me. How'd you even get home?"

Mae sighed. "Josh," she said. "The guy with the tractor. He gave me a ride because I was super pathetic and shit." Josh would always kind of be Mae's hero for that. She hoped he was kicking ass at whatever he was doing.

Another silence fell on them. This one wasn't nearly as awkward, though. It was the kind of silence that happened when you had a lot to process. Mae and Cole both stood in the Ol' Pickaxe, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for Bea to return.

Finally, Mae couldn't take it, and she said something she'd never thought she'd say to Cole again: "Let's go do something stupid."

The 'something stupid' in this case was only mildly stupid. At least, compared to Mae's long line of stupid experiences, it was. After a bit of a hike, Cole and Mae were sitting on top of the Ol' Pickaxe. They sat on the edge, their feet dangling off the side. Moving outside had made things even less awkward, which was okay.

"So, uh," Mae said. "How's college going?"

Cole nodded slowly. "Fine, fine," he said. "I mean, except for the scorpions. Once that's cleared up, it'll be good."

Quiet again; the sound of wind, and cars passing in the street below. Out towards the Video Outpost, Mae could hear someone arguing with someone else. Probably about something dumb. Like special hammers.

"How's, uh…" Cole fidgeted awkwardly on the roof's edge. "How are things with the hot girl you mentioned?"

Oh, jeez, he was bringing that up? While things weren't as bad as before, talking about relationships with Cole seemed like it would be pretty awkward. Even though Mae was more or less over with him, it felt weird to talk about stuff like this with her ex.

Then again, this was the first real conversation Mae had had with her ex since senior prom.

"Kinda good. Sort of," Mae said. "I've talked to her twice and forgotten to get her info both times."

"Maybe you should carry flash cards," Cole joked. That got a chuckle out of Mae. "Does she live far away? Like, Hunwick or something?"

Mae shook her head. "No, farther," Mae said. "I don't actually know where she lives. I met her in a club up in…" Mae paused. She'd been up to that club three times now, and Mae was only just realizing she had no idea what town it was in.

After a moment, Mae settled on giving the info she did know. "You know that town, like two hours away? College town? It has a theater, and an awful pizza place?" When Cole gave her a blank look, Mae continued. "Has a river called Red Winder?"

Cole shook his head slowly. "No, sorry," he said. "I'm, like, bad at directions. My college is out of state, anyway. I don't really know where any clubs are."

Mae nodded. Cole didn't exactly seem like the club-going type. He'd been more of a coffee house, bonfire party kind of guy. Not that Possum Springs had a coffee house. The closest thing was probably the Snack Falcon.

The two continued to sit in silence. Out in the distance, Mae could see the bright blue sky stretch on forever. The sun was way too bright today. Mae already missed the fall. She wanted to see the leaves changing, and feel the cold chill in the air. Oh, well. Spring came with its own nice things.

Longer days. Flowers on the hills. Light spring rain and the smell that came with it.

Mae wondered if she'd be able to enjoy the spring without Gregg and Angus. They hadn't set a date for their move, but Mae could feel the day drawing closer. Bright Harbor would eat up her two best friends, and Mae would be Gregg-less for the first time in years.

Whatever. Now wasn't the time for that. Mae was finally having a normal rooftop conversation with her ex. She couldn't get bogged down in her dumb emotions. Save that shit for Bort Feldman.

Mae wanted to say something and keep the conversation going. But she couldn't think of anything. Nothing except one question she'd always wondered.

"So, real talk," Mae said. She gazed down at her feet, dangling over the sidewalk below. "And don't think I'm fishing for compliments or whatever, but… what made you ask me out back in high school?"

Cole laughed quietly. For some reason, that put Mae on edge. Had she asked a dumb question? Well, screw you, Cole. She wasn't effing psychic. When Cole answered her, though, Mae's ire settled down. Slightly. A little.

"I dunno. I just liked you," Cole said. "I thought you were cute, and funny. That's kind of all teenagers need to ask someone out." He threw his shoulders up in a nonchalant shrug.

"Okay, I kind of get what you're saying," Mae said slowly. "But I was never cute. I was edgy and dangerous. I was bad news, kid. The kinda person your parents warned you about."

That brought another chuckle out of Cole. Mae had forgotten how easy it was to make him laugh. "My parents warned me about, like, perverts and kidnappers. Not you. My dad liked you a lot, remember?"

"Nope," Mae said. "I don't." Had she ever met Cole's parents? She felt like she would have remembered that. Then again, Mae could barely remember what she'd eaten before she left the house.

Mae's memory was kind of weird like that.

Cole sighed and looked out towards the horizon. Mae followed suit. Back when they were teenagers, Mae would have thought this sort of thing was super romantic. But now, after the puking, and the avoiding, and the puking again? It was just a thing. A nice thing, sure, but it wasn't the sign of something blossoming between them.

But maybe it was a sign they could be friends? Mae felt like she needed more friends.

"Hey," Mae said finally. "Sorry for puking on you. And, like, avoiding you and getting hung up on past stuff."

"It's cool," Cole said. "Sorry for ditching you at prom."

Mae nodded in response. She didn't know if she could ever really forgive Cole for that, but she could at least not be upset with him about it. Even if that night had traumatized her for life, and even if she still had nightmares about it, Mae and Cole would still be cool.

"We should probably get down from here," Mae said. "Bea's probably pissed we left."

Cole's eyes widened behind his big, nerdy glasses. "Oh, god, I completely forgot," he said. "My dad's probably wondering why he doesn't have that hammer by now."

But, in fact, Cole's dad wasn't wondering that. Because Cole's dad was already at the Pickaxe.

Getting down from the top of a building is usually faster than getting to the top. More dangerous, but faster. Mae had been confident enough to just leap down to the ground. Cole, meanwhile, had to take the long, boring way, and climbed down. Scaredy-cat.

"I have no idea how you can jump off of stuff like that," Cole said when he finally reached the ground. The two made their way to the front of the shop. The awkward air from earlier was more or less gone. It was like old times between Mae and Cole.

Well, sort of. They weren't dumb teenagers anymore, and Cole wasn't letting Mae copy his homework. Also, Mae didn't want to smooch him nearly as much as she had when they were dating. But the atmosphere had definitely mellowed out between the two of them.

It occurred to Mae that this was what 'making amends' must have been all about. Repairing old relationships. Clearing the air. Getting closure. It hadn't felt good with Levy, because Levy had barely remembered what Mae was making up for.

With Cole, though? Something had been accomplished. Mae had confronted the ghost of the past and spat in its stupid, ghosty face.

The ghost was still there. It would always be there. But even if Mae couldn't unhaunt a haunted house, she could… make the ghost less… spooky?

Mae had lost her train of thought. How did she do that inside of her own head? That didn't seem possible. Whatever.

Cole was the one to open the door when they got to the shop. Mae snickered a bit as her ex held the door for her. Stupid, goofy Cole and his stupid, goofy courtesy.

Mae's levity faded before she was even in the shop; before the bell over the door had even stopped ringing. She felt a chill pass over her body as she took in the sight of the man who was in the shop, talking to Bea. When the bell rang, the man and Bea both turned towards the door. Bea looked annoyed. The man looked pleasantly surprised.

It was the man from the mines. An old guy, dressed all in flannel. Why was he wearing flannel in spring? Who did that? Maybe it was a cultist thing. Like, they wore flannel in the spring so they could recognize each other. But the other cultists were all dead, so Mae hadn't seen any other flannel.

This was all assuming that this guy was one of those cultists. Maybe he was just spooky.

But no, yeah, he was definitely a cultist.

"Where'd you two disappear to?" Bea asked.

Mae didn't answer. She shot Bea terrified look. It was a look that said 'Bea. This is the guy from the mine. This is the guy who was all cryptic about the cave-in. He's in your store.'

Bea shot Mae a look that said 'Whoa, are you having a panic attack? Also, what were you doing with your ex? Is this a thing? Is a thing happening?'

While Mae and Bea were having their nonverbal conversation, though, Cole was entering the shop. Mae wasn't looking at him, but when he spoke, she could practically picture the bashful smile on his face. He and the man were both smiling at each other.

That was when Mae finally realized where she knew the man from.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long!" The man said. His smile had grown into a jovial grin. There was a familiar chuckle in his voice that kind of pissed Mae off. "Look at you! Back two days, and already hobnobbing with your ex?"

"It's not like that, dad," Cole said, laughing. He didn't seem to register the look of panic on Mae's face. Nobody did, except for Bea. The Mom Friend was now the Concerned Friend.

Mae's first thought was that she felt like an idiot for not recognizing Cole's dad. When she'd hung out with Cole at his house, Cole's dad had been a constant friendly face. He'd really liked Mae, and had been happy about her relationship with his son. Cole's mom had hated her, though.

It was only after Mae got over her embarrassment that she realized Cole's dad was a murderer.

"You took so long getting my special hammer that I was worried you'd gotten lost!" Cole's dad, whose name Mae couldn't for the life of her remember, said. He held up a plastic shopping bag with his right hand. Mae could just barely make out something shaped like a hammer through the yellow plastic.

Cole chuckled, embarrassed. Now that they were in the same room, Mae was kind of amazed she hadn't recognized Cole's dad. The family resemblance was uncanny. Probably because they were related, Mae thought.

"Sorry," Cole said. "Kinda lost track of time catching up with Mae."

Cole's dad smiled. "That so?" He said. He turned that smile towards Mae. It wasn't a good smile. Mae had seen Cole's dad smile before, and it hadn't looked like this. Nothing about the way he was looking at Mae felt right.

"Well, I'll leave you kids to it, then," Cole's dad said. "I gotta head home with my new, special hammer. Prob'ly gonna need it for work tomorrow." He gave an exaggerated little eye roll. "You know how my boss is."

Cole's father began to push his way forward, towards the front entrance. "I'll see you around, Mae. Take care of yourself."

The bell over the door rang. Mae kept her back to the door as Cole's dad walked away. She couldn't bring herself to watch him go. She didn't want to see if he was still smiling with just his teeth.

Mae was almost certain he was one of them. He had to be. But, really, Mae didn't have any evidence. Mae didn't even have a gut feeling. All she was going off of was a sense of guilt and paranoia that she hadn't been able to shake since last year.

"Mae?" Bea said. Mae didn't respond right away. She almost felt as if she was dreaming. Mae did her best to focus, and turned towards Bea. Cole looked on in mildly concerned confusion.

Cole said something. Mae wasn't entirely aware of what it was. Nothing felt solid. Finally, Mae found the nerve to speak.

"I think I'm gonna head on home," she said. "I'll talk to you later, Bea."

By the time Bea thought to protest, Mae was already out the door, running towards home.

She could tell everyone later. Tomorrow. Mae could talk Gregg into holding band practice, and they could all talk about it then. Right now, though, Mae needed to think. She needed to clear her head. She needed to eat dinner with her parents and tell them about her day.

Mae needed to feel normal, if only for a little bit. Mae needed to pretend she didn't feel like she was going insane.

#part 12 #night in the woods #nitw #nitw postgame #nitw fanfic #bea #beatrice santello #mae borowski #nitw mae #nitw bea #fan fiction #postgame #nitw cole #nitw selmers #selmers

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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"And so, basically, Cole's dad might be a cultist, and also might know we had something to do with his buds dying. Oh, and I've been having dreams about those dudes in the mine. So that's how my week's going."

It was early in the evening, and the band had finished practice. Mae had contacted Gregg on Chattrbox the night before, asking if he could set up a band practice day. He had been more than happy to. Maybe he'd known Mae had something she needed to talk about. Maybe he just wanted to chill with his friends.

Whatever it was, they'd taken another shot at playing Casey's song, Born to Lose. The more Mae thought about that song, the more it resonated with her. Had Casey been going through stuff like she was going through?

Minus the cult and weird dreams, of course.

When they'd finished their band jam, Mae sat everyone down and explained the situation. Bea was the only one who seemed overtly concerned. Gregg and Angus took what Mae was saying seriously, thank God, but they seemed more worried about Mae's panic attack.

Germ wasn't there, and that was odd. Germ had shown up at all of their band jams lately. Whatever. He was probably off doing his Germy business.

When Mae was done explaining her situation, Angus was the first one who spoke. "Mae," he said, "I don't mean to doubt you, but you don't have that much evidence to go off of. I mean, last year, you at least saw someone."

"And I had weird dreams," Mae pointed out quickly.

Angus seemed to reluctantly concede that point. "Okay, sure," he said. "This time, though, you just have a guy acting strange."

"Ordinarily I'd agree with you," Bea said as she too a drag of her cigarette. "But Mae told us all what Leon said at the mines. Talking about how he hoped no one was caught in the cave-in? That's kind of suspicious to me."

Everyone seemed to digest what Bea had just said. After a bit, Mae spoke. "Who's Leon?" She asked.

It must have been a dumb question, because Bea looked as if Mae had just asked what shoes were. "Cole's dad?" Bea said. "His name is Leon. Did you seriously not know that? You remember almost everyone's names."

Mae frowned. "Yeah, but when I was hanging out with Cole, I didn't, like, regularly ask him what his dad's name was. That's not something people do. When you made out with Steve, did you go around asking what his dad's name was?"

Bea groaned, rolling her eyes. Gregg and Angus both seemed taken aback.

"Wait, what?" Gregg asked, shocked. A big smile spread over his face. Apparently, he found this more hilarious than disturbing. "Oh. My. God. Bea made out with Scriggins?"

"Can we please get back on track?" Bea snapped. She sounded pretty impatient. Mae made a mental note to avoid bringing up her past with Steve from then on. Not unless it would be really, really funny.

"Right, so," Angus said, trying his best to move on from the Scriggins Smooching. "I guess it's possible he could be one of them. That means that there could be any number of others."

Oh, shit. Mae hadn't thought of that. If one member hadn't been there, then who knew how many others might have been absent on the night of the cave-in. If that was the case, then who in town was one of them? Who was planning revenge, or trying to get back into the mines?

Angus continued. "Even if he is one of them, there's no way he'd know we killed the others."

"What if he does know, though?" Mae asked. "What if he's, like, psychic or something? That lead guy said that some of them had a glimmer, or something." Not to mention how Eide had suddenly shown up behind them in the elevator. God, Mae had nightmares about that for weeks.

A weary sigh caught Mae off-guard. From the look on his face, Mae could see that it had come from Angus. He quickly noticed that everyone's eyes were on him, and his expression went bashful. "Sorry," he mumbled.

It took Mae a second to calculate what was going on. When she figured it out, though, she was baffled. "Angus, do you not think he could be psychic? That one guy, like, teleported or something."

Mae studied everyone's faces. From the look on Gregg's, it seemed he wasn't fully convinced, himself. Bea, meanwhile, just looked tired. Mae was guessing that she and Angus had discussed this topic before.

"I can't explain how the guy who grabbed you got on the elevator," Angus confessed. "But, I mean, my mind doesn't immediately leap to supernatural powers. He might have snuck on behind us."

Mae stared blankly at Angus. "Dude," she said. "You saw him. He popped in out of nowhere. That thing in the hole gave him, like, freaky powers."

Angus didn't respond right away. It seemed like he was having a hard time saying whatever he wanted to. Mae watched as Gregg reached out and put a comforting hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. It was gestures like that that made her love those two.

Finally, Angus spoke.

"Mae," he said. "I'm not entirely sure there was anything in that hole."

If Mae was baffled before, she needed a new word for how she felt now. Flummoxed? Shocked? Flabbergasted? Whatever. Angus had just thrown Mae for a loop, and she needed a minute to wrap her head around what he'd said. "What?" She asked.

Angus looked slightly embarrassed. "Like, I can't explain everything that happened last year. But the skeptic in me can't just instantly accept that there was some sort of… eldritch god in that mine."

"But we felt something!" Mae exclaimed. "Or at least I did!"

Angus sighed. "Mae, have you ever heard of Saint Luven's Lantern?"

Mae frowned. "What, is that an anime?" She asked. "I don't watch anime, Angus. Not since I was, like, twelve."

"No, it's not an anime," Angus said wearily. "It's a phenomenon where specific underground gases can lead to specific individuals experiencing hallucinations. They start hearing things, or feeling unseen presences. When the mines were open, Possum Springs had a real problem with gas leaks causing people to act strangely."

Mae wanted to retort that what she'd felt was no hallucination. But something about what Angus said scared her. Her experiences with that thing, that Black Goat, had just been feelings. Feelings and sounds and dreams. Saint Whoever's Lantern didn't explain everything, but it explained a lot.

"So, it wasn't a cult of murderous baby boomers," Bea said. "It was a cult of murderous baby boomers who'd been gassed out of their minds?"

Angus just shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? There might be a gas leak in town that hasn't been discovered yet."

To Mae's surprise, Bea was the one out of the group to express some doubt. "I don't know if I buy that," she said. "At least, not completely. I definitely felt something down there. What are the odds that me and Mae would both be affected by the gas or whatever?"

"I mean, it's just a theory," Angus said defensively. "It doesn't even explain everything, but it's all I've got. I'd rather believe those guys were just crazy. It's better than believing there's something living in the mines."

Mae still couldn't believe that Angus didn't believe what she believed had happened, but she believed she could understand. After hearing about Whatever's Lantern, Mae wasn't so certain herself anymore. That night in the mines had had a dreamlike quality, and Mae herself wasn't sure what she'd experienced and what she'd imagined.

It was scary, not knowing what was real and what wasn't.

"Okay, getting back on track," Gregg said, "Even if this guy is one of those guys, what are we supposed to do?"

Mae thought about it for a bit. "We could stalk him!" She exclaimed. That got her more than a few odd looks from her friends. Jeez, why were Mae's friends always so down on her great ideas?

"Mae, that doesn't sound like a great idea," Bea said. "For a lot of reasons. I mean, either he's a cultist and he tries to kill us, or he's a normal guy and he calls the police."

"He'll only kill or arrest us if we get caught," Mae said slyly, an eyebrow cocked. Nobody seemed to be buying her logic.

Mae threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Okay, fine." She said. "We'll just live the rest of our lives never knowing if we're gonna get murdered to death. That's cool. That's a good idea. Not like I don't already have enough on my plate already without this shit."

"I'm not saying we should do nothing," Bea said with a sigh. "But Mae, this isn't some kid's detective story. We need to be smart about this. Or at least smarter than we were last year."

"What about what we did last year wasn't smart?" Mae asked defensively.

"I mean, you wound up getting shot at and having a mini breakdown inside of a mine," Gregg pointed out. "I'd personally like to avoid anything that leads to that happening."

"Same," Angus said.

Okay, that was fair. But what were the odds of that happening again? Pretty good, actually. Lots of people in Possum Springs owned guns. Casey had been really looking forward to being able to buy a bunch of guns. That wasn't going to happen now, sadly. Unless they sold guns in the afterlife.

"I guess we could, like…" Mae rubbed her chin. "I dunno. We could go around town. Try and find leads about, like, culty stuff."

"What kinda leads?" Gregg asked.

Bea piped in with her own comment. "They were a secret cult that was only around since the 90's," she said. "That's only, like, twenty years. They might not have left a lot of clues. Or maybe they did. I don't know what people did in the 90's."

"I remember a lot of weird commercials," Angus said.

Mae struggled to keep her mind focused on the topic at hand, and not get distracted by thinking of commercials from the 90's she remembered. She tried, instead, to think of anything weird that had been happening lately; anything that might point towards cult activity.

Nothing really came to mind aside from Cole's dad. They could always check out the mines, but what would that accomplish? Those old tunnels were sealed shut, more or less.

There had to be something, though. Were Mae's feelings of general unease related to supernatural events, or was she just… sad? If Mae's dreams meant anything, she was carrying some serious guilt around. Guilt about things she couldn't say, and about secrets she had to keep.

Just then, Mae experienced what nerds in college refer to as a Eureka moment. Mae didn't know what Eureka meant, though, so instead she just thought 'Holy shit!'

There was one thing that all of Mae's dreams lately had had in common: Possum Leap. At first, Mae thought she was dreaming about Possum Leap because of her guilt towards Levy. But Levy and Mae were cool now. So why would Mae still be dreaming about it?

Mae remembered last year, on the night of Harfest, when she'd had a dream about a well. The well that had been their one way out after the cave-in. That had definitely been weird. Not a lot weirder than other stuff, but weird nonetheless.

The more Mae thought about it, the more sense it made. Finally, when she'd convinced herself, she spoke up. She tried her best to make her hunch sound as normal as humanly possible.

"Hey, I've had weird dreams about Possum Leap. Let's go up there."

Everyone stared at Mae for a minute. Mae was kind of used to people looking like that when she said something like this. Bea opened her mouth to speak. Mae didn't want to answer whatever question she had, so Mae just kept talking.

"Look, it's better than nothing, right?" Mae asked.

"Technically, I guess?" Angus said. "I haven't been up to Possum Leap since high school."

"None of us have, I think," Gregg said. "Not since that party where Mae got covered in chips and got into a fist fight with Ron Boonstra."

Mae frowned. "Okay, I've tried to block out a lot of that night, but I'm fairly certain that didn't happen." She felt like she'd remember getting into a fight with a big footballman. "Well, whatever. We can all head up there tonight, right?"

Gregg and Angus exchanged a look while Bea took a drag of her cigarette. Mae knew that look. It was the 'Should you tell her, or should I tell her we have plans?' look. Evidently, they settled on having Gregg tell her, as he was the one to speak up.

"We're actually expecting a phone call tonight," Gregg said. "Like, the landlord in Bright Harbor should be calling us. Probably."

This upset Mae, but not because of her mixed feelings about Gregg's move. "What kind of landlord makes a phone call after six?" She asked.

"Unorthodox business hours," Angus said, "are a sign of cheap apartments."

Mae guessed that made sense. She didn't have enough experience with apartments to question it, really.

"I can take you, Mae," Bea said. Mae felt herself let loose a sigh of relief. She didn't wanna hike out to Possum Leap, so Bea's car was a blessing. "Don't want you wandering around the woods at night. Alone. Again."

Mae groaned and rolled her eyes. "You guys are never gonna let that go, are you?"

It had been a few years since Casey had driven Mae and the gang up to Possum Leap. As Bea drove her up along that familiar road, though, Mae found that the sights were oddly familiar. She wasn't sure why; Possum Leap wasn't a very common destination for her.

Some landscapes just kind of stick in a person's mind.

Mae was still looking out the window when the car gradually came to a stop. Mae snapped back to reality to find that Bea hadn't driven up into the woods, like Mae had expected. Rather, Bea had done the boring thing and parked in the parking lot.

"Don't feel like off-roading?" Mae joked as she popped the door open and hopped out onto the black, hot parking lot.

"There's a parking lot for a reason, Mae," Bea said. Stepping out of the car, she slammed the door shut behind her and lit a fresh cigarette. Mae watched Bea take a long, deep drag before Mae decided to start walking to the forest.

Mae looked around at the nearly empty parking lot. Though it was late, the sky was darkening slowly. Days were getting longer and longer.

Aside from Bea's car, there were only a few trucks scattered around at opposite sides of the lot. They probably belonged to people who… went into the woods and did woods stuff. Like, the people who cleaned the woods and took care of the trees. Or maybe druids? Druids probably didn't drive trucks.

The trucks didn't matter. They were just something to look at. Mae had to look at them to avoid looking at the big, creepy statue at the very end of the parking lot. Unfortunately, with the way Bea had parked, the two of them had to pass by the statue as they made their way into the woods.

Mae was happy to just walk past the damn thing, but then Bea spoke up. "Wait, hold up. I wanna look at this."

Reluctantly, Mae came to a stop a few feet away from the memorial. Bea was looking at it with mild interest. Her eyes drifted from the statue to the podium it stood on, and the plaque that was attached. Judging by how quickly Bea had stopped looking at the statue, Mae guessed she found it creepy, too.

On the surface, the thing wasn't too creepy. It was just an old statue of a Civil War guy. But it was the details that really amped up the spook factor. Whatever they had made the statue out of, it was almost pitch black. Not gray, or dark gray, but as black as the space between the stars.

The stone figure's head was bowed. With Bea standing right in front of him, it looked like the statue was staring straight at her. The statue's eyes were big and featureless; freaky, stony circles that seemed to be looking at everything all at once.

Mae's family had come up here once or twice in the past, back when her Granddad was still alive. Mae had been really freaked out by the statue. Hell, she still was. They'd stopped coming to Possum Leap when Mae made it clear how scared she was of the thing.

As Bea read the plaque on the bottom of the statue, Mae wandered behind her best friend. She had always been so scared of the statue that she barely remembered what it said on the plaque. Over Bea's shoulder, Mae read the inscription:

MEMENTO MORI

DEDICATED TO THE 72 BRAVE MEN WHO TRAGICALLY LOST THEIR LIVES DURING THE SKIRMISH AT POSSUM LEAP

NOBODY TOLD THEM THE WAR WAS OVER

Beneath this dedication was a list of the 72 soldiers who had started shooting at each other one week after the Civil War officially ended. Mae's Granddad had been a big Civil War buff, and he had always regarded the Skirmish at Possum Leap as one of the most embarrassing things to ever get a memorial dedicated to it.

Mae guessed it was kind of tragic, in a stupid way.

"Man, can't go ten feet in this town without running into a war memorial," Mae joked. Bea just made a sort of grunt in response. She took another drag of her cigarette and then turned to face Mae.

"So, where's the place you had this party?" She asked.

Mae reached out and pointed at the hill that led into the woods. "Somewhere out there," Mae said. "Amongst the trees and critters. There's, like, a bonfire pit, or whatever you call it. I dunno. Have you seriously never been up there?"

Bea just shrugged. "Don't think so. I don't think we went to a lot of the same parties in high school."

Mae nodded. It was kind of weird to look back and think about the period of time when she and Bea weren't friends. Back in middle school, they'd had a fight. Mae had more or less stopped interacting with Bea after that.

Then, a few months later, the softball incident had happened.

God, that whole stretch of time in Mae's life had been awful. As she and Bea made their way up into the woods, Mae wondered if everything had been kicked off by Granddad's passing. It wasn't the first time Mae had thought this might be the case. Her Granddad had been a huge part of her life, and one day he had just started to fade away.

Mae'd never really talked about this with anyone. She'd made peace with her Granddad's death, more or less, but she still felt as if it had left a mark on her. It was the first bad thing in a long line of bad things.

Another thing for Bort Feldman to hear about, Mae guessed. Her next appointment was what, a week from now? Mae had no idea, really. She needed a calendar or something.

Mae must have been lost in her thoughts for a while, because before she knew it, Bea had stopped. They'd reached the site of the party that Mae tried not to think about.

The place had definitely seen better days. There were all sorts of trash and pieces of crap littered around the site. Plastic cups, scraps of paper, and a countless amount of cigarettes. The charred-black bonfire looked like it hadn't been used in a long while. The trees that surrounded the clearing had all sorts of crude, lewd messages inscribed on them. Someone had actually tried spray painting some of them, it seemed.

"God, old party sites are so depressing," Bea grumbled. Mae was inclined to agree with her.

"I guess teens just don't hang around up here anymore," Mae said. Hands on her hips, she approached the burnt out remains of the last bonfire. She noticed with some disgust that there were a few condoms among the logs and ashes. She hoped they weren't used ones.

"With all the crap around here, I wouldn't either," Bea said.

Mae wandered to one of the overturned logs that formed a square around the burnt out bonfire. It was covered in black, grimy dirt, but Mae had sat on grosser stuff. She hopped onto the log and looked out at the ashen logs.

Bea walked over and joined her, but she didn't sit down. Mae kind of got that. Bea's clothes were nice and stuff. They were a lot nicer than Mae's old jeans that she wore almost every day, at least.

"So," Bea said. "What now?"

Mae pondered that question for a little while before simply shrugging. "I dunno," she said. "I'm not even sure why I thought this was a good idea. It just, like, popped into my head."

Bea raised a brow and gave Mae a mildly concerned look. She held her cigarette between the fingers of her left hand, and the smoke drifted over to tickle at Mae's nose. Mae hated that smell. It didn't help that she was allergic, either. Mae hoped that scientists would invent a cure for allergies soon.

"So, we came here for reasons you don't know, and we're trying to find something you don't know exists," Bea recapped, her tone carrying a light air of sarcasm. "Why are you the one in charge of these investigations, again?"

Mae just scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit. "You don't have to get all snippy, Beatrice. I know this is stupid."

"That's good, I guess," Bea said. "I mean, I'm supporting you here, Mae, but you've gotta plan crap out better."

"Bea, you've known me for years. When have I ever been able to plan anything successfully?"

Bea didn't have an answer for that.

The two sat there for a while longer before Mae finally got fed up with all of it. With a groan, she stood up. The bottom of her pants felt all dirty and muddy, but whatever. She had other jeans. Probably.

"Okay, this is a bust so far," Mae said. "Maybe we should, like, go further out into the woods?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not a good idea," Bea said. "There's, like, a bunch of old houses out here. If we wandered onto someone's private property, we could get arrested or shot at."

Mae laughed at that. "Wouldn't be the first time," she said. "Who lives out here, though? Hermits? Forest wizards?"

Bea sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I dunno, Mae. Some of the guys at the shop come out here on fixit jobs. I think some rich guy lives out here, too. Like, his great-grandpa owned the old sawmill that shut down."

"You can get rich off of a sawmill?" Mae asked skeptically.

"Rich enough to buy an old cabin in the woods," Bea joked. "I just know about him because he's needed a lot of repair work done lately." She shrugged again, placing the cigarette between her lips. "I'm in no hurry to meet him. Bill says he's a creep."

"Well, he lives in the woods, so that's a given," Mae said.

Bea just laughed at that, and Mae felt her mood improve a little. Bea seemed so sad all the time. It cheered Mae up to make her laugh like that. Mae wished she could to more to help Bea than just make her laugh, though.

The warm spring air drifted through the trees. Everything looked so green as the sun's light began to die down. Mae could hear birds singing, and insects buzzing. Everything felt so relaxing that she almost didn't hear a twig snap from somewhere behind her.

Mae spun around quickly to catch whatever had made the noise. Bea looked on in confusion until her focus shifted to the man standing a few feet away from them.

Mae had never seen the man in town before. She felt like she'd recognize someone who looked like him. He was basically just a skeleton with skin. His angry eyes seemed almost sunken in, surrounded by black circles. The man wore a neck brace, and his right arm was in a sling.

Other than all that, though, he looked kind of like Mae. An older, effed-up, taller version of Mae who was a man who lived in the woods, but a version of Mae nonetheless.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and craggily, yet somehow vaguely familiar.

"What the hell are you kids doing out here?" He asked.

"Adults," Mae corrected. She might have been caught off-guard by this guy, but she wasn't going to let him call her a kid. "Do we need a reason to be out here?"

"Mae, no," Bea whispered. She sounded fairly agitated. Mae guessed she was freaked out by the walking corpse in front of them. That was kind of understandable, but Mae knew he was just some guy. Probably not a zombie.

The man scowled at Mae's response, and put his free arm on his hip. "If you brats don't tell me why you're out here, I'm calling the police. This is private property."

Mae balked at that. She may not have known much about the layout of the town, but she was fairly certain that this guy was screwing with them. "No it isn't!" She cried out.

The man's eyes narrowed. "It's adjacent to private property," he clarified.

"We were just going," Bea said quickly, and she forcibly grabbed onto Mae's shoulder and began guiding her away. Mae glanced over her shoulder at the stranger, who was still glaring at them. Mae didn't know if she'd ever seen anyone look so angry at… well, at everything.

The guy was clearly hostile. Mae decided the smartest decision would be to speak to him respectfully as she and Bea left.

"Have a good evening, creepo. Enjoy your trees."

"Mae, no!" Bea said again, though this time much more harshly. Mae didn't care, though. She didn't mind being chastised for calling out a creep.

The strange man watched angrily as Mae and Bea hurried away. Over her shoulder, Mae watched as the man lifted his free arm up high in the air and raised a single, solitary finger. Mae got the message loud and clear. She lifted her hand and returned the gesture, much to Bea's frustration.

"Oh my god, Mae," she hissed in Mae's ears. "Don't flip off strangers in the middle of the woods! That's common sense!"

"He started it," Mae grumbled. "Guy goes and calls us kids, but he's about as immature as I am."

Bea groaned as the ground evened out beneath them, and before too long they were back at the edge of the parking lot. The war memorial didn't look any less creepy in the dying spring sunlight. Its shadow stretched out across the parking lot; a long, thick arm reaching out to grab Bea's car.

"Who was that guy, anyway?" Bea asked. When they made it onto the blacktop of the parking lot, she finally let go of Mae. Mae, in turn, looked at Bea with a raised eyebrow.

"What makes you think I know?" Mae asked. "He was just some pissed dude in the woods. I don't know a whole lot of those."

Bea shrugged. Her cigarette had burnt down quite a bit. Mae guessed that it'd be going into the car's ashtray before too long. "Well," Bea explained, "I assumed he was pissed because you did something to him. A lot of folks in town have some sort of grudge against you."

Mae scoffed. "What, do you think I broke his arm? Or his neck? I've never seen the guy before today."

"So, he was just some asshole out in the woods?"

"Possum Springs is full of 'em," Mae said in a comically low voice, her eyes narrowed. She returned her expression to normal and chuckled soon after. "No, but seriously. I know this was kind of a bust, but thanks for taking me out here."

Bea nodded. She wasn't smiling; she didn't seem to do that too often anymore. It was a shame, really. Mae had always liked Bea's smile.

"It was no problem," Bea said. "I mean, it wasn't that far of a drive, and I didn't have anything better to do. At least this time we didn't dig up a corpse and get hassled by weird teens."

Mae, who still smiled quite often, did so. "There's always next time," she said.

That got another laugh out of Bea, and Mae was pleased to see it brought a smile to her friend's face. "Okay, you," she said. "Let's get you home. Hopefully we don't bump into any more assholes on the way."

As Mae and Bea made their way back to Bea's car, and the sun set in the darkening sky, Mae found herself feeling better than she had in a while. Hanging with Bea had gotten Mae's mind off of Casey, and Gregg, and Cole's cultist dad. Just being around a best friend could do that, Mae guess.

While Mae and Bea walked, they talked, joked, and Mae teased Bea over her kiss with Steve Scriggins.

Meanwhile, at the top of the hill that led to Possum Leap, the man with his arm in a sling watched them leave.

#Ghosts in the Woods #night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #nitw bea #gregg #greggory Lee #fan fiction #beatrice santello #angus delaney #nitw fanfic #nitw postgame #postgame #mae borowski #part 13

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

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There was always something there. There was fire, there were trees, and there were the stars. There was no difference between the sky and the ground. As Mae sat before the flickering night sky that had been made into the shape of a fire, she tried to think of when she'd gotten there.

Dreaming. Right. It had taken Mae longer than usual to realize she was in the Dream Possum Leap. The woods that weren't woods. Everything just shapes cut out of the sky.

Mae felt uneasy. She wasn't sure why. She couldn't recall where she'd been before she fell asleep. But, all the same, everything felt bad. Like the world was titled, and everything would fall off. The conspicuous absence of the Dream Casey only added to that sense of wrong.

Without the Dream Casey, Mae wasn't sure what to do. She tried to stand up, and found with some surprise that she could. She'd never been able to stand in these dreams before. Her surprise carried on as she found herself able to walk forward.

The forest was thick. It was like it was all trees, with no spaces in between. Mae found she was able to walk through the trees all the same. The trees completely surrounded her as she pushed through them, unsure of where she was going.

Eventually, after what felt like minutes of moving through the ethereal branches, Mae became aware of a light in the distance. It was a familiar, orange glow, and Mae knew at once that she had to go towards it. Nothing mattered except getting to that light.

Mae began to run. She sprinted and jumped, trying to close the distance. The light grew as she came closer and closer towards it. It felt soothingly warm; a welcome change to the coldness she'd felt from the fire.

Mae was also starting to realize why this light was familiar.

The trees began to fall away, and Mae found herself on a long path. There was nothing to either side of the path; it seemed to just float in the middle of a great, dark void. Off in the distance, Mae could make out something sitting in the middle of the path. The light was coming from it.

That was her destination. And it wasn't far off.

Mae tried to pick up the pace, but she found herself actually beginning to slow down as she got closer. Her body felt as if it was stuck in jelly. Mae tried to push herself, but she kept moving slower and slower.

Despite moving slower, though, the object was actually moving closer to her. She could just make it out now. It was tall, like a tower, with an opening in the middle.

Mae had heard them be called something. What had it been? Bandboxes? And who had told her about them?

Mae reached the tower, and came to a stop. Her eyes drifted to the top of the bandbox, and sure enough, there was someone sitting there. A man dressed in old-timey clothing, his eyes closed, was passionately playing an accordion.

He didn't seem to notice Mae. Nothing existed for him except the music.

Mae stared up at the accordionist for some time. Wasn't there supposed to be another light? In her dreams with these guys, there were other lights, each leading her to another bandstand. But no, this time it was just the accordion guy. Confused, Mae did something she'd never done before. She spoke to the accordionist.

"Hey," she called up.

The man continued playing his accordion. He didn't react in any way to Mae's voice. That was a little bit rude, Mae thought.

"Hey, dingus," she said, louder, "Where are the other guys? There's usually four of you."

No response. Just music. This was starting to weird Mae out. Those dreams she'd had had been formulaic, almost. They had a pattern. This accordion guy, all by himself? He didn't fit that pattern.

"I find all four of you, you play your music, I see a big animal, and then I, like, die or something," Mae listed out. "Where are the others? Where's Casey?"

Nothing.

"Is Casey even real?" Mae asked. "Is his ghost actually in my head? Or am I just going crazy?"

Nothing.

"Why do I keep coming back to Possum Leap?!" Mae shouted. "What the hell's so special about Possum Leap?!"

Nothing, nothing, nothing. The band played on. Or, rather, the single member of the band played on. Nothing mattered to him but his music. This was hopeless.

"Fine," Mae muttered. "I hope you pull a muscle playing that thing. A ghost muscle."

Without a light to follow, Mae wasn't sure where to go. Forward? Backward? Sideways? Probably not sideways. She'd fall into space or some shit.

In a case like this, the best plan would be to move forward. And move forward she did. Mae walked out into the dark, out among the infinite stars. Gradually, the world around her seemed to grow more solid. It occurred to Mae that some scene was forming around her.

The ground under Mae's feet took on a rocky sort of quality. Mae moved her arm, and felt herself brush against something cold and hard. Mae felt with her hands, and discovered she was in sort of rocky tunnel.

The path had become a steep incline by this point. Something about it was very familiar, but Mae wasn't sure what. She could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel, and Mae felt herself rush towards it. The incline evened out into flat ground, and Mae found herself…

In some sort of church?

It seemed to be a church. There were pews all around. A crude, upside-down star had been formed from planks holding the wall and ceiling up. Was Mae in a mine? Who would make a church in a mine? Miner priests?

It occurred to Mae that she had been in this chamber before. On that night, months ago, when they'd come face to face with their town's dark secret. It was a night Mae wished she could forget, if only for a little while.

In an instant, the once empty room was filled with people. Hooded figures, and at least a dozen of them. They all stood motionless around Mae. For a moment, Mae thought they were watching her.

Was this some sort of punishment? Had the cult come back, like Casey, and now they wanted revenge? What would they do? What could they do? They were a bunch of dumb ghosts, right? Mae's brain was tougher than ghosts. Probably.

Mae's train of thought was interrupted when she heard one of them speak.

"Well, I think that could have gone a lot worse," one of them said.

"A lot worse?" One of them repeated, incredulous. "A lot worse?! They saw us! Four of them saw what we was doing to Lurv!"

"Yeah," the first voice said, "and one of 'em fell down the hill. We'll find the others in no time."

"And do what?" A third voice asked. Mae recognized this one. It was their leader. The one who'd explained everything to them. He was clearly an older man. Probably older than Mae's dad. "Kill them? That isn't how we operate. 'Sides, no one'd believe 'em anyway."

"That still leaves one issue," another voice said. Mae recognized this one, too. It was a voice she'd known for a long, long time, and one she wasn't exactly happy to hear. A lot of mixed feeling connected to that voice. "Which one of you assholes shot at my niece?"

Silence. The hooded figures looked amongst themselves for a moment. Slowly, timidly, one of them raised their hand into the air. "Uh," they said, "yeah, that was me. Sorry."

"Effing hell, Sanders!" Aunt Molly yelled out. "What were you thinking?! That's my sister's kid, for eff's sake!"

"Jeez, Molly, I feel bad enough already," Sanders muttered. "I just meant for it to be a warning shot! You know I wouldn't want to hurt Mae."

"Why not?" One of them asked. "She put that kid in the hospital. She's nothing but a troublemaker. Plus, in a day or two, she's going to bury all of us in this mine."

Mae looked over to the figure who had spoken. Well, she thought it was him who had spoken. They all kind of looked the same, and their voices came from all around her. The fact that these dream cultists knew they were going to die didn't diminish the creep factor, either.

"God damn it, am I the only one who knows the rules?" The leader asked, utterly fed up with his cultists' shit. "We don't hurt no one who'd be missed. Now, regardless of what she's done, Borowski'd be missed. So Sanders better hope that Borowski recovers from her little bump."

"I'm going out there," Molly said gruffly. Molly had always been kind of gruff, Mae thought. "I'll take her out to the hospital near Briddle." Despite the urgency in her voice, none of the cloaked figures moved. It was like they were fixed to the floor.

"Now, hold up, Molly," the leader said. Mae watched one of the figures reach out to… whichever one of these weirdoes was supposed to be Aunt Molly. It was probably more dramatic when they were all walking around. "You go out there and grab your niece right now, those three'll know you're one of us."

Silence. When Molly didn't respond, the leader continued. "You gotta wait 'till they tell someone about what happened. I know that's rough, but it's what's best."

After a few seconds, Molly spoke. "Shit," he grumbled. Then, after a moment, she asked a question. "Where the hell's Eide? This whole thing's his fault anyway."

"Goat's been singing to him lately," one of the cultists said. From the tone in their voice, it sounded like they pitied Eide. Mae couldn't exactly agree. Out of all the cultists who'd died, he was the one she had the least sympathy for.

"Goat wants him to watch the girl," the cultist continued. "Think the Goat's been singing to her. Eide's prob'ly a little jealous. You know how he is."

"Creepy and obsessive?" Molly asked. "Sonuvabitch thinks he's great just 'cause he hears its singing the loudest. He acts like hearing the Goat is a good thing somehow."

"Why are you telling us all of this?" Another cultist asked. "We all already know all about Eide and shit. He's been around for a while."

"Well, it's Mae's dream," Molly grumbled. "I'm just saying things so she'll understand."

"Where is Mae, anyway?" The leader asked. Mae felt her blood turn cold. The cultists' heads began to turn, as if they were looking all over for her. With how motionless they were, though, they looked strangely mechanical. Pillars spinning in cricles.

"Borowski? Mae Borowski? Anyone seen Mae Borowski?"

"Oh, I remember," said a voice Mae couldn't quite recognize. "She's in the hole. She fell into the hole. Mae Borowski fell into the hole inside of her brain and can't make her way out. She fell in on the day she and I played softball."

The cultists all had a laugh at that. "Oh, right!" The leader said. "God, what a senior moment. It completely slipped my mind. Mae Borowski's in the hole, with Casey and everyone else in this town."

"This town's gonna get swallowed up one day," Molly said. She was awfully cheerful. Mae didn't think she'd ever heard Aunt Mall Cop sound that cheerful in real life. "We're all gonna get swallowed up. You know what I think about that?"

"What?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

Molly didn't respond right away. She seemed to be pausing, as if to let everyone's curiosity build. Then, finally, she stated her opinion. "It's… a whoppah!"

The cultists all began laughing again. Their laughter grew more and more intense, until they sounded almost manic. Despite the laughter, none of them were moving. They all stood as stiff as statues, but the laughter was practically pouring out of them.

"Oh, jeez," the leader said. "Oh, wow, Molly, you're a riot."

"Thanks," Molly said. "The world isn't out there somewhere. It's here. It's right here."

Everything was wrong about all of this. Mae felt as if she'd start to suffocate. She watched in horror as the cultists seemed to glide along the floor, like figures affixed to a track, and assembled into a single-file line.

"Come on, gang, let's go jump into the hole!" The lead cultist said. The hooded figures moved forward, single file. They didn't look like people; they looked like a toy train on a rail. They marched forward, out of the church, and into the darkness of the tunnels before them. Mae could have sworn they were whistling.

Left alone in the dark, stony church, Mae was left reeling. She stared at the tunnel that the cultists had just marched into. After a few moments, Mae found her words.

"The hell was that?" She asked. "Was that supposed to teach me something? Did I see the past, or is my brain just trying to make me feel even worse than I do already?"

The stone walls of the chamber were silent. Stupid rocks.

Mae flung her hands up in the air. "Does any of this even mean anything?!" She called out. "Like, I get it, I've got issues and shit, but what the hell was any of that?! Was it guilt? Am I psychic, or some shit? Come on, brain, answer me!"

"Brains don't talk, kid."

If Mae had been awake, the sudden intrusion of a familiar voice would have made her heart leap out of her chest. It had been a while since she'd heard this person speak, so she couldn't quite recognize who they were. But when she turned around and saw them, she wasn't surprised.

A tall, older man in a plaid shirt and utility belt was standing in front of the wooden support beams. He had a power drill out, and was working on tightening a screw into the wood. Just like the first time she'd seen him, he was fixing something.

Mae almost didn't know what to say. The janitor had been a sort of mystery she'd just stopped thinking about after a while. Eventually, she'd chalked it up to him just being some old guy who knew a lot of stuff. Mae wasn't sure why she was dreaming about him now.

For a while, the only noise was the whirring of the janitor's power drill. Mae stared at where he was drilling, and saw that the screw didn't deem to be for anything. He was just screwing it into solid wood. Then again, Mae didn't know much about carpentry. Maybe what the janitor was doing was very essential.

Finally, Mae found her voice again. "Hi." She said.

"Yup," the janitor said, still focusing on his work. "How ya doin', kid? Been a while."

"Yeah," Mae said. "Haven't seen you since before Longest Night, at the Taco Buck. What were you even doing there?"

"Fixin' a door," the janitor said.

"You were just sitting at a booth eating a taco salad," Mae pointed out.

"Didn't say I was fixin' a door at the Taco Buck," the janitor retorted.

Not a lot Mae could say to argue with that. The janitor carried on with his drilling. Even in a dream, that loud, whirring noise made Mae's teeth feel weird. Maybe it was just memories of Dr. Hank and her first fillings.

"So," Mae said slowly. "What's going on? Why have I been having weird dreams again?"

The janitor stopped his drilling, but didn't take his eyes off of the support beam. His skinny shoulders moved up and down in a lazy shrug. "I dunno, kid. I ain't a shrink."

"But you have something to do with everything, right?" Mae asked. "You showed up when I came back to town. You told me that weird stuff at the Harfest play. You knew my name without me ever telling you!"

"Nearly everyone in Possum Springs knows your name, for one reason or another," the janitor said. "Don't see in particular how me knowin' it makes me special."

Mae frowned. "When I was in my coma," she said, "you were there. I saw you, or I dreamed it or something. You knew I was going to get better. And I think you knew all about that creepy cult and the Black Goat."

Mae paused. The next thing she said was difficult to say. The last time she'd asked it, she hadn't liked the answer. "Are you… God?"

The janitor made a phlegmy, disgusting snorting noise. For a brief, terrifying moment, Mae worried he was going to hock a loogie. Then she remembered she was dreaming, so it was all good. Mae waited patiently for some sort of answer, but the janitor just kept on with his drilling for a while. Finally, he spoke.

"Does it matter?" He asked.

Mae opened her mouth to tell him it totally did matter, and maybe to cuss him out a little, but found she couldn't say anything. She wasn't certain of her answer, now that she thought about it. The janitor seemed to pick up on her silence, and kept on talking.

"How would me bein' God make your life any different?" The janitor asked. "What would it mean?"

Mae frowned. "I dunno," she said in a quiet, uncertain voice. "I guess it means… anything? Like, it'd mean there was someone at the steering wheel. It would mean the world wasn't just… what was it… monstrous existence."

The janitor made a small, noncommittal grunt. The whirring of his drill died down as he stopped to inspect his word. Apparently satisfied, he set his drill down and placed his hands on his hips.

"Don't matter how hard I work, it just comes undone again," the janitor grumbled. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Mae. "Kid, this's your dream. I'm not gonna give you any answers you haven't thought of yourself. Even if I was God, I wouldn't just spill everything out to you."

Something about how casually he said it made Mae's heart sink. "After everything last year…" Mae said slowly, "I thought I had a better handle on things. But then Aunt Molly didn't come home, and I put off finding a therapist… I feel like all this shit I went through didn't mean anything. I feel like everything bad lately is my fault. But that's insane. Right?"

"Yup," the janitor said. "It's insane. But it's human. Feelin' guilty about what you can't control is as natural as the trees."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Mae asked. "Because it sounds like people are just hardwired to be miserable."

"It ain't supposed to make you feel like anything," the janitor said. "Just stating a fact."

"Facts are dumb," Mae grumbled.

Silence. Mae hated silence, especially in a place as foreboding as this dream mine. Why couldn't her brain have conjured up somewhere nicer for her to see her dead aunt? And for that matter, why was she seeing her dead aunt anyway?

Aunt Molly had killed people, or at least been complicit in dozens of murders. Even if what Mae saw was true, and Molly had been furious about Mae being shot at, it didn't change anything. She'd still been a part of this effed up cult, and she was still dead.

What's more, her death wasn't really Mae's fault. If anything, it was Eide's fault for attacking her. So why, then, did Mae feel like a murderer? Why did she feel like the worry of everyone in town who'd lost someone that night was her fault?

If feeling like this was natural, then life was a hot mess.

"Okay," Mae grumbled. "I think I've seen enough. When do I w—"

Mae's eyes were still closed when she woke up. She didn't feel like she had the strength to open them. Everything was wobbly, and her head was pounding. Her mouth tasted like garbage and soda. She was vaguely aware that she was still leaning against Germ.

How long had she been asleep? Ten minutes? Forty?

Her friends were talking all around her.

"I mean, you're not really subtle about it," Gregg pointed out. "I mean, you're letting her sleep on you, for one."

"Subtlety is for the weak," Germ said.

"Your odds probably aren't very good, Germ," Bea said. "She's got it bad for this college girl a few hours from here. Like, really bad."

"That's fine," Germ said. His voice was always so impossible to read. What were they all talking about, anyway? "I, like, don't really want a relationship or anything that bad. Just think she's a cool person, is all."

Mae opened her mouth to ask what everyone was saying, but instead she let loose a loud, long groan. For a moment, Mae was irrationally worried that she was going to throw up. But nope; she just made a gross noise. Really gross. So gross that the conversation came to a stop.

"Uh, hey, Mae," Angus said. "You awake?"

"Sorta," Mae muttered. "Kinda. Not really. What're you guys talking about?"

"How much did you hear?" Gregg asked slowly. He sounded kinda nervous. Mae didn't like nervous Gregg. Greggs were supposed to be happy and excitable and slightly taller than her. Ugh. Mae's brain was rambling. She was either still drunk, or hungover.

"I dun even remember," Mae said. "How long was I asleep?"

"Like, thirty minutes?" Bea said. "Maybe? You were kinda muttering in your sleep, and kicking your legs like a dog. You okay?"

Mae lifted her head off of Germ's shoulder. He still smelled like old tires. Why was that? How did someone get that smell? She wiped her eyes off on her arm, but the very sensation of moving made her slightly nauseous. "Yeah, I…"

Mae paused. "No, actually," she sighed. "You're right, Bea. I haven't been talking about all of the stuff going on with me. I guess I was scared that people would think I'm crazy? But, like, if I don't say something, I might actually go crazy. Or crazier. Whatever."

She sighed. Mae was aware that everyone was waiting for her to continue. They'd have to wait for a while; Mae's head hurt almost too much to talk. She wanted to collapse in bed and never, ever wake up, except for, like, coffee and pancakes.

"I've been having dreams lately," Mae sighed. "And, like, I've been… hearing things. In my head. I've been hearing stuff that sounds like Casey, and just…"

"You've been hearing voices?" Bea asked cautiously. She didn't sound scared; she sounded like she wanted a better grasp on Mae's situation. Mae sort of loved her for that. She was already scared enough for all of them.

"Yes," Mae said. "No. The voices aren't really voices. They're, like, ideas. Or echoes, or something. Shit, I dunno. Talking about stuff that's in your head is tricky, you know?"

"Okay, you definitely need to talk to Dr. Feldman about this," Bea said. "Or, like, try to, at least. You're dealing with serious shit, Mae. We're all worried for you."

Mae wanted to say something glib and funny to make light of the whole situation. Her brain was too drunk to come up with anything, though. Instead, she settled on "Thanks, guys. I could use a lot of worry, I think."

"Dude, we're all here for you," Gregg said. "I mean, I don't get half of the shit you're going through, but, like… you're my best friend, you know? And none of us want a repeat of last year."

"I mean," Angus said, "I doubt we're going to have a repeat. Most of the cultists are dead."

He said it so casually. Not exactly surprising. Out of all of them, Angus had the least problem with what they'd done. Mae actually felt a little angry about that. Then again, none of Angus's relatives had been down there. Probably. As far as Mae knew.

For now, Mae was all talked out. With a small sigh, she rested her head against the window, closed her eyes, and returned to sleep.

#night in the woods #nitw #nitw postgame #nitw fanfic #ghosts in the woods #fan fiction #postgame #part 11 #mae borowski #gregg #greggory lee #beatrice santello #angus delaney #germ warfare #aunt molly #aunt mall cop

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