Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Early Finish

Oct 17, 2017 13:43



A rising babble of voices in the corridor outside made Simon look up. The teetering stack of charts, the result of a year-long project tracking the breeding patterns of the half-seen shadow creatures that lived in night-time mirrors all across Eerie, wobbled dangerously, and he reached out with one hand to steady them.

The door to the surgery creaked dramatically, the reinforced steel bubbling and buckling as Sheila popped her head through it.

“Hey, boss,” she said, her teeth glowing spectral blue-white in the nightmare dark of her mouth. “The weather’s getting pretty hairy out there, so they’re sending the people who live out of town home early.”

Simon glanced behind him, at the high narrow windows that nestled tight against the tiled ceiling. The thin sliver of visible sky was yellow-brown, the clouds tattered streamers that twisted and writhed with the subtle suggestion of screaming faces.

“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t notice.”

“TV says it’s an Eldritch-level storm warning,” said Sheila, twisting until her shoulders emerged from the metal of the door. A moment later her hands emerged, translucent and faintly glowing with her ever-present ghost-light, and she pulled her body free. “All townspeople should stay where they are. Anyone who needs to use the roads out of Eerie should get moving.”

“Okay,” said Simon. “Thanks. You can take off if you want.”

Sheila drifted around the top of the medicine cabinet, running one incorporeal finger across the top of the glass-fronted cupboard and utterly failing to disturb the thick skein of dust there. She shrugged.

“I thought I’d stick around, actually,” she said. “Jackalope vaccination season is coming up and I could use the chance to update our files before it all kicks off. You want a coffee or something?”

“That would be great,” said Simon.

Sheila flitted to the door, vanishing through it with an ominous screech of rusted hinges despite not even attempting to open it. Simon returned to the unsteady stack of papers, one ear half-cocked for the comforting hiss and hum of the coffee maker.

A moment later he jumped down from the tall stool, spilling patient charts in all directions as he crossed to the surgery door. Gripping the blessed-silver handle, he yanked it open, just as Sheila swept through in a blaze of bright green ectoplasm, holding a very large, very solid mug brimming over with dark roast.

“Thanks!” said Sheila. “I always forget you use these weird living-people cups.”

Simon eyed the various dark stains on the exterior of the clinic door, but said nothing.

“Radio says the harvest should be starting soon,” Sheila continued blithely. “I’m gonna go up on the roof and watch. I’d invite you to come with me, but you’d probably just die.”

“That’s fine, Sheila,” Simon said. “You go take your break.”

Sheila set the mug down on the cluttered desk, sending a tidal wave of coffee slopping over the brim and onto several neatly-stacked patient files.

“You’re the best!” she said, launching herself upward in a twisting spiral pattern that sent her straight through the ceiling above them. Simon retrieved a stack of paper towels from the hand dispenser and began cleaning up the spill. Outside, the wind howled and lightning split the sky in a series of percussive cracks. A single car alarm began to blare.

Someone began hammering on the reinforced glass, ragged voices begging to be allowed in. Simon spread out the wet paperwork on the ancient cast-iron radiator and turned up the heat. Thunder rumbled and trees creaked, snapped, fell. The screaming redoubled, a rising shriek of pain and fear. The yellow-brown sky blazed white and the earth roared, and the voices stopped.

From the tiny street-level windows in the dark basement room, the smell of burning flesh drifted down. Sheila’s slippered feet emerged from the light fittings, the black star-shaped burn on the soul of one foot stark against a blue death glow that faded as the light outside returned to normal.

“How was it?” asked Simon, wiping his hands clean on the front of his lab coat.

“Pretty good,” said Sheila. “There’s burned bodies everywhere, though. The creepy garbage guys are gonna be busy tonight.” She shrugged. “On the other hand, if you fancy a new car, there’s a whole bunch of dead commuters who won’t be needing them anymore.”

“It feels a bit mean,” said Simon. “I know the weather gods need a sacrifice, and of course the Mayor doesn’t want to lose his own tax base, but taking their cars feels petty somehow.”

Sheila shrugged, the lightning flowers on her skin shifting with the movement.

“It’s not like we need them anymore,” she said. “Internal combustion engines are for the living, I always say.”

“That’s a pretty specific philosophy,” said Simon.

Sheila shrugged again.

“Works for me,” she said. “I’m gonna start making calls about those jackalope vaccinations now.”



Microwave-verse

Bonfire by froodle, in which Pinocchio is ruined forever

Gingerbread by froodle, in which there is a witch in the Eerie Woods

Leaves by froodle, in which plantlife finds Marshall entirely too enticing

Offspring by froodle, in which there are dragons

Based on Your Previous Purchases by froodle, in which Mars should really pay attention to Amazon's reccomendations

Housework by froodle, in which a rota cannot be agreed upon

Breakfast by froodle, in which Dash's attempts at cookery do not go well

Ghost in the Machine by froodle, in which a new laptop opens an old wound

Consequences by froodle, in which an encounter with leprechauns leaves the boys very tired indeed

The Microwave by froodle, in which Andrea Fantucci returns to Eerie after a considerable absense

The Eldritch Abomination in the Room by froodle, in which the microwave is most definitely not discussed

Basic Household Maintenance by froodle, in which manticores are inconsiderate houseguests

Torrential by froodle, in which there is a storm, and the boys eat ice-cream

Linens by froodle, in which Dash X makes a bed

Night Music by froodle, in which Simon is woken by a nocturnal visitor

In For The Night by froodle, in which Dash refuses to leave the house

Hound by froodle, in which Simon makes a friend

Errands by froodle, in which Simon has a to-do list

Waterlogged by froodle, in which Eerie experiences heavy rainfall

Wildlife by froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach

Rainbow by froodle, in which Dash fails to properly appreciate Michael Flatley

Jackolantern by froodle, in which the local pumpkin patch has a problem



The Weather Series

Wally by froodle, in which a certain weatherman doesn't lose his temper, but is sorely tried

Vacation by froodle, in which Weatherman Wally visits a tropical paradise without ever leaving Eerie city limits

Sick Day by froodle, in which Weatherman Wally does not go to work

The Storm by froodle, in which Mayor Chisel has a very specific job for Eerie's resident weatherman

Setting the Scene by froodle, in which Wally prepares for Christmas

Holidays are Coming by froodle, in which something else prepares for Christmas

Garden by froodle, in which Wally eats ice-cream

Strawberry by froodle, in which there is unauthorised hubbub in Eerie

Stormfront by froodle, in which Wally takes a hands-on approach to firefighting.

Sisters by froodle, in which we visit Normal, Illinois

Still by froodle, in which we find out there are far worse things than Old Bob

Midsummer by froodle, in which the Eerie Express returns, right on schedule

Castle by froodle, in which there is unexpected architecture in Eerie

Waiting In by froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive

Squall by froodle, in which Wally and Old Bob have a disagreement

ongoing verse: microwave, fanworks: ongoing verse, a: froodle, fanworks: fic, cryptid: jackalope, ongoing verse: weather, fanon: sheila, char: simon

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