The Mansion, Chapter One
Alrighty, let's give this one a shot.
The Mansion promises to be a collection of short stories, or excerpts from larger ones, all held together under one umbrella/premise thingy. This is like, part of the umbrella that will be holding it all together. Next chapter should be a short story. I hope. I kinda have issues writing those. Anyway, this will go on my writing deal too. Been edited. And rewritten. Um, any mistakes, tell me.
Yeps. SO, it's been finished! Finally, everyone can read and be tortured by my horrendous writing skillz. : )
Overall, it could be said that Glennview was a perfect, peaceful community, and no day like today gave more evidence as such. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, dogs were barking cheerfully, and maids were humming cheerfully as they worked. Nothing in the pristine neighborhood of looming mansions was out of place; it was simply wonderful. Mrs. Shaw sighed happily as she sat on her lawn chair, drinking in the quiet of home. She reached over languidly to grab her iced lemonade from a nearby table, musing on how little she had to do today- when suddenly a huge KABOOM rocked the neighborhood and the ground below her, causing Mrs. Shaw to spill her drink.
For a moment, she sat in stunned silence, before an expression of utter fury twisted her features into an enraged mask.
“DAMN THAT MAN!” She howled, her cry echoing from one end of Glennview to another.
Across Glennview sat the largest mansion in the place, alone by itself, off to one side of the road. Its peaceful stone exterior gave no indication whatsoever of the turmoil occurring within. It was, however, definitely from this place where the explosions emanated.
Isabelle cringed again as another huge explosion rocked through the massive house, followed by several clatters and bangs that obviously did not bode well for anyone. The ground shook and rattled the building and its contents precariously. She grabbed at the nearby mantelpiece, riding out the quaking with concern. But, what was even more worrying and ominous, however, was the absolute silence that followed, and the abrupt stillness that came with it. Almost reluctantly, she released the large mantel, looking around carefully.
Standing there, in one of Edgar Thorax's studies, clutching the Swiffer WetJet mop tightly in her hand, the maid/housekeeper/whatever-else-anyone-could-possibly-want-her-to-be wondered if she should risk imminent death and investigate, or stay safe and wind up unemployed. Because most disasters around here in some way or the other always wound up involving her employer and any of his friends/housemates that happened to be around at the time.
Finally she brushed back a stray strand of brown hair and called out tentatively, "Um, Mr. Thorax?"
A muffled noise that could be a groan of pain or a stifled word came faintly from the makeshift "lab" Thorax kept just down the hall. Isabelle was definitely worried now, and prepared to call an ambulance while fearing the worst, she hurried towards the sound.
The room she entered was a mess; like a war zone- pieces of twisted metal smoked, the stench of gunpowder and fire seared her nostrils, and black soot covered every surface. A dark red stain covered a piece nearest to her, and for a sickening moment, Isabelle thought it was blood.
"Mr. Thorax!" she cried, alarmed. The maid had just started to take a step onto a relatively stable looking metal bar when the whole room seemed to shift, and she was suddenly-unexpectedly-left looking quite blankly at a happily grinning Edgar Thorax, and an exasperated Anthor. Eror looked nonplussed and a bit annoyed from his vantage point behind a table.
"Belle! What do you think of our new illusion? Very convincing of a disaster, isn't it?" Edgar beamed at her brightly, the slight wrinkles around his eyes crinkling.
"Illusion?" Belle repeated dumbly, and really, she should be used to this sort of thing by now after five years working here and one spent in residence.
Anthor nodded. "Edgar wanted to have something to deflect Beetles. Because lesser demons are easily distracted, he thinks that they will walk straight into the glamour and end up trapped."
"It's a foolproof trap. It also doubles as a way to catch Beetles and get rid of the nasty things." Edgar added. "We couldn't let you get in there, because its booby trapped for a lesser demon, which you most certainly are not."
For a moment, Isabelle was torn between intense annoyance or laughter. She settled on laughter. "I suppose you'd better keep Phillip away from this, then."
"It would serve him right to get caught up in this. That short, meddling, half-vampire- half-demon thinks it's funny to sabotage all of my projects." Thorax grimaced. "Ah, yes, Isabelle, did I tell you that a friend of Phil's, Mercer, will be arriving later? If you have time, can you attend to getting a room ready for him? Else wise, just order Mary Anne to do it. She isn't as busy."
Eror twitched and finally made a noise from his corner of the room. "How long will Mercer be staying?"
"Oh, about a week or so. Not very long at all. Apparently there's some important vampire business Phil's been missing out on. Anthor, you should know, shouldn't you?" Edgar seemed totally oblivious to the werewolf’s suddenly bared teeth as he turned to face Anthor.
The golden eyed vampire shook his head negatively. Isabelle sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with feuding werewolves and vampires on top of a potential vampire convention.
"Oh, it's probably that thing, with the girls and that book Phil's been on about. Like another convention." she tossed out almost carelessly, already moving from the room, head filling with plans to diffuse any “situations” that might arise.
Behind her, the three men exchanged confused glances.
“What?” asked Edgar.
“I think we’re about to have a lot of trouble on our hands” muttered Eror.
“Fledgling vampire control” said Anthor sarcastically. “Just what I always wanted to do as an Old vampire.”
“It suits you,” quipped Edgar and Eror at the exact same time, before they all looked at one another and burst out laughing.
***
Because Thorax had failed to specify what room in which he wanted Mercer housed, Belle made her own decision based on her knowledge of the house, and of fledgling vampires. The room she chose had only a few windows, all of which could easily be covered by black out curtains so as to not even let in the barest hint of sunlight. It was Victorian in style, with its imitation furniture and slightly musty smell.
She quickly got on to dusting first; everything she touched had a layer on it about an inch thick and she was holding a Swiffer. It was really made for floors, but, well… Desperate times, desperate measures. She wasn’t sure it was safe to ask Mary Anne where the dusting cloths were anyway. She might have to crawl into an oubliette again.
Against the wall opposite the door, near a window, sat a mammoth wooden dresser with seven drawers and a small mirror's empty frame perched on top. It was this she chose to attack first, seeing as it was the tallest item in the room, and therefore the hardest for her to dust, seeing as she was a bit short.
But the maid attacked it with steely determination, cleaning the inside and the outside. As she was dusting the inside of the third drawer vigorously, she noted a part of the bottom was bowed outwards a fraction more than the rest-almost warped. Curious, she pushed lightly on it, wondering at what might have caused the change in only one specific part of the drawer rather than the whole.
The wood sprang up unexpectedly, as if it had been under a lot of pressure to stay shut. It revealed a hidden compartment crammed full of yellowed papers and a few pieces of jewelry, including a wedding ring. Belle carefully removed the topmost few pages and unfolded them gingerly. Curly writing slanted elegantly across the page, which seemed to be a letter written by a woman to her husband, who was-for some reason- gone.
Totally engrossed, Belle hardly noted as she sank slowly to the floor, being drawn in closer and closer by the words until she could literally feel the emotions the writer felt, and see what she must have seen.
It read:
Dear Gabriel,
I've been missing you so much recently. I remembered that you mentioned that you liked to receive handwritten letters, rather than phone calls or email, so I'm sending you this. Hope it makes you happy. I haven't been doing very much lately, except helping Vara hunt those Greater demons that we can find. It's tiring work, especially what with taking care of the baby in between. I'm thinking about sending her to my mother. She'd be so much safer there, and she would have someone who can give her the care and attention she so truly deserves. Every day recently, I wake up cursing this war, and how it keeps dragging on and on endlessly. It's torn so many lives apart, and no matter how much you and I swore it would never do the same to us, I can see it happening.
Gabe, promise me that when you come home, you won't be cold, the way you have been recently. I'm trying, Gabe, trying. I want this to work so much, and I was so sure you did too. But now it almost seems as though we can't be bothered with saving our life, and don't want to make the effort. I really really do, though. If there truly is something irreparable here, let me know. I can't keep dragging on, wondering. There's not enough time to waste, doing this.
I just wish I wish you luck on your next mission, and hope to see you soon. Our daughter misses her father, too, even though she barely knows you.
With love,
Annabelle
***
Unspecified City, 1999
A medium-sized brunette woman clacked down the empty boulevard in her patent black stilettos, hat perched precariously on her long hair. It was a long way to her destination tonight, and her fingers were clenched tightly around a thick metal stake hidden by her hand and clutch purse. Demons came out often, though not usually on such deserted nights as these, but it was best to be safe anyway. Nerves sang and danced anxiously in her body as her stomach tried out being an acrobat. Tonight was-well, she wasn't going to think about it yet.
Giddiness welled inside her unbidden, like her body knew exactly what she was too anxious to think about and desperately wanted her to react to it or admit it. Annabelle took a few calming breaths, but only succeeded in making herself feel more like she was going to throw up. Nothing could really calm her down except Gabriel, and at the moment, he was the cause of her anxiousness. She would be more than close enough to him by the time she reached her destination: tonight was their rehearsal dinner anyway.
As much as she tried not to think about it, it was a losing battle anyway, and Annabelle found herself admitting that tomorrow morning, at exactly 10 AM, she would be marrying the man of her dreams. In a wedding. “Of course, idiot, how else would you two be married?” A wave of lightheadedness swept over her as she chastised herself for being silly.
She hoped Gabriel wouldn't back out at the last minute, although right now, she was thinking about running simply because it was a huge decision and not because of any real fears concerning themselves as a couple. However, the Huntress forced herself to stay on her steady course towards the church they were going to be married in, straightening her skirt and jacket.
The steepled building loomed ahead, lights on and shining through stained glass windows. A ball of excitement built in her throat and her stomach, choking her and making her sick. Her best friend, Jasmine, was waiting for her at the top of the main steps, arms crossed.
"Where have you been? We've all been so worried!" she cried upon seeing her friend's paler complexion mounting the steps.
"I was out hunting. It took a little longer than I expected, and I had to walk here." Anna offered her chocolate skinned friend a wan smile. Jas' warm eyes softened marginally.
"Well, they've already got started with the first part. Us bridesmaids are just about to walk down the aisle. C'mon, we have to get you to the end to stand next to Edgar."
Anna followed her past the line of bridesmaids paired with their groomsmen escorts to Edgar Thorax, placed where her father, if alive, would have gone. He gave her a reassuring smile as they linked arms and inched forward in the procession.
"What'd I miss?" she asked.
"Not much, really. The pastor just explained the line up. Just remember, you'd better get here by 9 tomorrow. Your mother liked to have pitched a fit when you didn't show."
Anna grimaced and shook her head. "Sorry you had to deal with that."
"It's not me you should be apologizing to." Edgar sounded amused. Both fell silent, however, as the last couple before them started down the aisle. After a few seconds, Anna and Edgar moved slowly towards (the altar) Gabe, who was staring down at them with some surprise. Anna noticed her mother valiantly trying to catch her eye and ignored Catherine, certain she would never hear the end of it later.
Instead, she focused solely on Gabe, with his short black hair dyed platinum blonde at the ends of his bangs, tattoos racing up his arms from under the sleeves of his nice dress shirt. She could only imagine how amazing he would look tomorrow, and instantly felt bad that he was stuck with her. She liked her dress, but wasn't too comfortable with the way she and her mother had agreed to style her hair. Besides, Annabelle often felt like she failed his expectations, even though he never gave any indication that she had.
Apparently she and Edgar had reached the end of the aisle, as he was discreetly trying to take back his arm from the death grip she seemed to have on it. A light blush rose on Anna's cheeks, as did a wan smile of embarrassment; Gabe looked torn between hurt and amusement. She stood awkwardly next to him, staring straight at the pastor. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and Anna could practically feel her mother's weighty stare. She definitely was not pleased Anna was late and ignoring her.
The pastor gave instructions Anna carefully absorbed, hoping like crazy she didn't mess up tomorrow. Gabe's presence by her side was both a comfort and an irritant, so that by the end, all she really wanted to do was go home and sleep in her bed and never wake up again. She was so afraid.
The pastor closed the rehearsal, smiling kindly at Gabe and Anna. Gabe responded warmly, while Anna hardly managed to register that he was steering her down the aisle and towards the back of the church where her mother waited to be taken to the rehearsal dinner. As she passed Jas, her friend gave her a sympathetic look and waved her car keys.
“See you at the dinner, ”she mouthed. The shorter girl nodded.
“Anna!” cried Catherine, hurrying forward. Gabe easily moved a slight distance away, so as to avoid the whirlwind of fury that was Anna’s mother. “Where were you?”
“Hunting. I had to walk here. My car broke down.” For some reason, she seemed incapable of articulating in longer, coherent sentences. Her anxiety ratcheted up a notch.
“I can go get it with Pete and Theo tonight,” offered Gabe. Unable to answer, Anna just stared at him. Her mother took care of insisting that it was alright, and he only had to do it if he wanted.
“We can always get it back later,” she rationalized. Anna realized then that she had failed to specify the fact that her car was by the docks. If it wasn’t gone now, it would be by tomorrow.
“I’ll get it tonight.” Gabe brushed over her mother’s insistences politely and focused his intense gaze on her. A questioning look flashed in his eyes before he retreated behind his protective mask of calm and coolness. Desperately, the Huntress wished to convey that she wasn’t having second thoughts, that she was just scared, but all she could do was stand there mutely.
“Well, come on then,”Cathy said to her daughter, tugging at her arm. “You and Gabe aren’t going to keep everyone waiting, are you? You have to greet the guests at the hall.”
Nodding dumbly, she followed her mother and future-husband -to-be to his car, sitting in the passenger seat only when her mother climbed into the back. As he started the car, Gabe slipped a hand to rest lightly on her knee, not looking at her as her mother rambled on. His touch finally loosened the tense terror that had seized her, and although still nervous, she relaxed a bit and felt more like she could talk. She offered Gabe a more sincere smile, which he returned with a tinge of relief.
“I’m sorry I was late, Mom,” she said suddenly turning to face her mother.
“Yes, well. You shouldn’t have been hunting so late, but I understand. I was a Huntress, too.” Cathy smiled calmly. “Now, let’s just focus on you two being married for a while.”
Anna and Gabe faked loud groans, much to Cathy’s amusement. The rest of the ride to the reception hall was much smoother and comfortable. Fingers twined with Gabe’s, Annabelle finally felt complete, no matter how cheesy it sounded. This truly was where she belonged.
***
Banging woke Isabelle from where she had fallen asleep on the floor, reading through the letters. She sat up groggily, noting that it was dark outside.
“Oh, no” she mumbled, reaching blindly for the papers in the darkness. However, wherever her hand touched, she felt nothing. The letters and pictures were gone. Startled by this revelation, she stood and spun in place, staring in shock at the cleanliness of the room. It was nothing like it had been when she had first arrived. And she knew that she had only gotten to dusting the third drawer of the dresser.
The banging increased in volume as Mary Anne’s voice was added to the mix. “Isabelle? Are you done yet? It’s way past dinner time.”
“Uh, yeah. Just a moment.” Isabelle picked the Swiffer up and spun around once more. She paused by the dresser to pull out the third drawer and peer inside. This time, there was no tell tale warping to show her where the secret compartment had been.
“Isabelle? Are you alright?” Concern tinged Mary’s voice. Isabelle realized her time in this room was done- until she could contrive a way to get back. She hurriedly shoved the drawer back into place and ran to the door.
Mary Anne was standing outside, fist poised to knock yet again. “Oh, good, there you are. Edgar almost had kittens when you didn’t show up for supper. He nearly sent out his dogs.” She paused, peering inside the room to gape at its now clean interior. “Wow, you’ve really done a good job this time. I mean, you always do just fine, but this room was in such bad shape last time I was in here.”
The shorter maid started to protest, but caught herself in time. Despite the fact that weird things happened here all the time, she felt a strange need to keep this one quiet- if only for a little while. She merely smiled and nodded in thanks.
Mary tucked a piece of blond hair behind her ear. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Might as well assuage the beast that is Edgar Thorax.” The two smiled, and, as Mary turned and lead the way back to the dining room, Belle stopped to stare into the room one last time with confusion playing across her features. Reluctantly, she closed the door on the mystery for a little while.
Meanwhile, inside the room and completely hidden from the naked eye huddled a group of tiny green demons. They watched the girl leave quietly, a limited intelligence gleaming in their eyes. Tiny claws and hands clutched the retrieved papers carefully. The biggest little demon -the leader- motioned for the others to follow him through a crack at the bottom of the wall and out into the late night air.
None noticed the dully gleaming silver necklace hidden near the door, waiting to be found.
A man clothed in all black-so typical, he thought- was waiting for the demons in a tree right next to Thorax’s property. The demons handed over their treasures, which he pocketed with a sigh.
“Well, the boss’ll be wanting these,” he muttered to himself. “I still think we shouldn’t have to hide. But we’ll see.” With that he dropped out of the tree and disappeared, melding completely with the night. The demons watched with awe, exchanging glances before they, too went home.
Ok, for some reason the note dealies are in a grey box. Um, if you highlight it, you get to read my rambling drivel. BUT IT'S FINISHED!!!
The Mansion promises to be a collection of short stories, or excerpts from larger ones, all held together under one umbrella/premise thingy. This is like, part of the umbrella that will be holding it all together. Next chapter should be a short story. I hope. I kinda have issues writing those. Anyway, this will go on my writing deal too. Been edited. And rewritten. Um, any mistakes, tell me.
Yeps. SO, it's been finished! Finally, everyone can read and be tortured by my horrendous writing skillz. : )
Overall, it could be said that Glennview was a perfect, peaceful community, and no day like today gave more evidence as such. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, dogs were barking cheerfully, and maids were humming cheerfully as they worked. Nothing in the pristine neighborhood of looming mansions was out of place; it was simply wonderful. Mrs. Shaw sighed happily as she sat on her lawn chair, drinking in the quiet of home. She reached over languidly to grab her iced lemonade from a nearby table, musing on how little she had to do today- when suddenly a huge KABOOM rocked the neighborhood and the ground below her, causing Mrs. Shaw to spill her drink.
For a moment, she sat in stunned silence, before an expression of utter fury twisted her features into an enraged mask.
“DAMN THAT MAN!” She howled, her cry echoing from one end of Glennview to another.
Across Glennview sat the largest mansion in the place, alone by itself, off to one side of the road. Its peaceful stone exterior gave no indication whatsoever of the turmoil occurring within. It was, however, definitely from this place where the explosions emanated.
Isabelle cringed again as another huge explosion rocked through the massive house, followed by several clatters and bangs that obviously did not bode well for anyone. The ground shook and rattled the building and its contents precariously. She grabbed at the nearby mantelpiece, riding out the quaking with concern. But, what was even more worrying and ominous, however, was the absolute silence that followed, and the abrupt stillness that came with it. Almost reluctantly, she released the large mantel, looking around carefully.
Standing there, in one of Edgar Thorax's studies, clutching the Swiffer WetJet mop tightly in her hand, the maid/housekeeper/whatever-else-anyone-could-possibly-want-her-to-be wondered if she should risk imminent death and investigate, or stay safe and wind up unemployed. Because most disasters around here in some way or the other always wound up involving her employer and any of his friends/housemates that happened to be around at the time.
Finally she brushed back a stray strand of brown hair and called out tentatively, "Um, Mr. Thorax?"
A muffled noise that could be a groan of pain or a stifled word came faintly from the makeshift "lab" Thorax kept just down the hall. Isabelle was definitely worried now, and prepared to call an ambulance while fearing the worst, she hurried towards the sound.
The room she entered was a mess; like a war zone- pieces of twisted metal smoked, the stench of gunpowder and fire seared her nostrils, and black soot covered every surface. A dark red stain covered a piece nearest to her, and for a sickening moment, Isabelle thought it was blood.
"Mr. Thorax!" she cried, alarmed. The maid had just started to take a step onto a relatively stable looking metal bar when the whole room seemed to shift, and she was suddenly-unexpectedly-left looking quite blankly at a happily grinning Edgar Thorax, and an exasperated Anthor. Eror looked nonplussed and a bit annoyed from his vantage point behind a table.
"Belle! What do you think of our new illusion? Very convincing of a disaster, isn't it?" Edgar beamed at her brightly, the slight wrinkles around his eyes crinkling.
"Illusion?" Belle repeated dumbly, and really, she should be used to this sort of thing by now after five years working here and one spent in residence.
Anthor nodded. "Edgar wanted to have something to deflect Beetles. Because lesser demons are easily distracted, he thinks that they will walk straight into the glamour and end up trapped."
"It's a foolproof trap. It also doubles as a way to catch Beetles and get rid of the nasty things." Edgar added. "We couldn't let you get in there, because its booby trapped for a lesser demon, which you most certainly are not."
For a moment, Isabelle was torn between intense annoyance or laughter. She settled on laughter. "I suppose you'd better keep Phillip away from this, then."
"It would serve him right to get caught up in this. That short, meddling, half-vampire- half-demon thinks it's funny to sabotage all of my projects." Thorax grimaced. "Ah, yes, Isabelle, did I tell you that a friend of Phil's, Mercer, will be arriving later? If you have time, can you attend to getting a room ready for him? Else wise, just order Mary Anne to do it. She isn't as busy."
Eror twitched and finally made a noise from his corner of the room. "How long will Mercer be staying?"
"Oh, about a week or so. Not very long at all. Apparently there's some important vampire business Phil's been missing out on. Anthor, you should know, shouldn't you?" Edgar seemed totally oblivious to the werewolf’s suddenly bared teeth as he turned to face Anthor.
The golden eyed vampire shook his head negatively. Isabelle sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with feuding werewolves and vampires on top of a potential vampire convention.
"Oh, it's probably that thing, with the girls and that book Phil's been on about. Like another convention." she tossed out almost carelessly, already moving from the room, head filling with plans to diffuse any “situations” that might arise.
Behind her, the three men exchanged confused glances.
“What?” asked Edgar.
“I think we’re about to have a lot of trouble on our hands” muttered Eror.
“Fledgling vampire control” said Anthor sarcastically. “Just what I always wanted to do as an Old vampire.”
“It suits you,” quipped Edgar and Eror at the exact same time, before they all looked at one another and burst out laughing.
***
Because Thorax had failed to specify what room in which he wanted Mercer housed, Belle made her own decision based on her knowledge of the house, and of fledgling vampires. The room she chose had only a few windows, all of which could easily be covered by black out curtains so as to not even let in the barest hint of sunlight. It was Victorian in style, with its imitation furniture and slightly musty smell.
She quickly got on to dusting first; everything she touched had a layer on it about an inch thick and she was holding a Swiffer. It was really made for floors, but, well… Desperate times, desperate measures. She wasn’t sure it was safe to ask Mary Anne where the dusting cloths were anyway. She might have to crawl into an oubliette again.
Against the wall opposite the door, near a window, sat a mammoth wooden dresser with seven drawers and a small mirror's empty frame perched on top. It was this she chose to attack first, seeing as it was the tallest item in the room, and therefore the hardest for her to dust, seeing as she was a bit short.
But the maid attacked it with steely determination, cleaning the inside and the outside. As she was dusting the inside of the third drawer vigorously, she noted a part of the bottom was bowed outwards a fraction more than the rest-almost warped. Curious, she pushed lightly on it, wondering at what might have caused the change in only one specific part of the drawer rather than the whole.
The wood sprang up unexpectedly, as if it had been under a lot of pressure to stay shut. It revealed a hidden compartment crammed full of yellowed papers and a few pieces of jewelry, including a wedding ring. Belle carefully removed the topmost few pages and unfolded them gingerly. Curly writing slanted elegantly across the page, which seemed to be a letter written by a woman to her husband, who was-for some reason- gone.
Totally engrossed, Belle hardly noted as she sank slowly to the floor, being drawn in closer and closer by the words until she could literally feel the emotions the writer felt, and see what she must have seen.
It read:
Dear Gabriel,
I've been missing you so much recently. I remembered that you mentioned that you liked to receive handwritten letters, rather than phone calls or email, so I'm sending you this. Hope it makes you happy. I haven't been doing very much lately, except helping Vara hunt those Greater demons that we can find. It's tiring work, especially what with taking care of the baby in between. I'm thinking about sending her to my mother. She'd be so much safer there, and she would have someone who can give her the care and attention she so truly deserves. Every day recently, I wake up cursing this war, and how it keeps dragging on and on endlessly. It's torn so many lives apart, and no matter how much you and I swore it would never do the same to us, I can see it happening.
Gabe, promise me that when you come home, you won't be cold, the way you have been recently. I'm trying, Gabe, trying. I want this to work so much, and I was so sure you did too. But now it almost seems as though we can't be bothered with saving our life, and don't want to make the effort. I really really do, though. If there truly is something irreparable here, let me know. I can't keep dragging on, wondering. There's not enough time to waste, doing this.
I just wish I wish you luck on your next mission, and hope to see you soon. Our daughter misses her father, too, even though she barely knows you.
With love,
Annabelle
***
Unspecified City, 1999
A medium-sized brunette woman clacked down the empty boulevard in her patent black stilettos, hat perched precariously on her long hair. It was a long way to her destination tonight, and her fingers were clenched tightly around a thick metal stake hidden by her hand and clutch purse. Demons came out often, though not usually on such deserted nights as these, but it was best to be safe anyway. Nerves sang and danced anxiously in her body as her stomach tried out being an acrobat. Tonight was-well, she wasn't going to think about it yet.
Giddiness welled inside her unbidden, like her body knew exactly what she was too anxious to think about and desperately wanted her to react to it or admit it. Annabelle took a few calming breaths, but only succeeded in making herself feel more like she was going to throw up. Nothing could really calm her down except Gabriel, and at the moment, he was the cause of her anxiousness. She would be more than close enough to him by the time she reached her destination: tonight was their rehearsal dinner anyway.
As much as she tried not to think about it, it was a losing battle anyway, and Annabelle found herself admitting that tomorrow morning, at exactly 10 AM, she would be marrying the man of her dreams. In a wedding. “Of course, idiot, how else would you two be married?” A wave of lightheadedness swept over her as she chastised herself for being silly.
She hoped Gabriel wouldn't back out at the last minute, although right now, she was thinking about running simply because it was a huge decision and not because of any real fears concerning themselves as a couple. However, the Huntress forced herself to stay on her steady course towards the church they were going to be married in, straightening her skirt and jacket.
The steepled building loomed ahead, lights on and shining through stained glass windows. A ball of excitement built in her throat and her stomach, choking her and making her sick. Her best friend, Jasmine, was waiting for her at the top of the main steps, arms crossed.
"Where have you been? We've all been so worried!" she cried upon seeing her friend's paler complexion mounting the steps.
"I was out hunting. It took a little longer than I expected, and I had to walk here." Anna offered her chocolate skinned friend a wan smile. Jas' warm eyes softened marginally.
"Well, they've already got started with the first part. Us bridesmaids are just about to walk down the aisle. C'mon, we have to get you to the end to stand next to Edgar."
Anna followed her past the line of bridesmaids paired with their groomsmen escorts to Edgar Thorax, placed where her father, if alive, would have gone. He gave her a reassuring smile as they linked arms and inched forward in the procession.
"What'd I miss?" she asked.
"Not much, really. The pastor just explained the line up. Just remember, you'd better get here by 9 tomorrow. Your mother liked to have pitched a fit when you didn't show."
Anna grimaced and shook her head. "Sorry you had to deal with that."
"It's not me you should be apologizing to." Edgar sounded amused. Both fell silent, however, as the last couple before them started down the aisle. After a few seconds, Anna and Edgar moved slowly towards (the altar) Gabe, who was staring down at them with some surprise. Anna noticed her mother valiantly trying to catch her eye and ignored Catherine, certain she would never hear the end of it later.
Instead, she focused solely on Gabe, with his short black hair dyed platinum blonde at the ends of his bangs, tattoos racing up his arms from under the sleeves of his nice dress shirt. She could only imagine how amazing he would look tomorrow, and instantly felt bad that he was stuck with her. She liked her dress, but wasn't too comfortable with the way she and her mother had agreed to style her hair. Besides, Annabelle often felt like she failed his expectations, even though he never gave any indication that she had.
Apparently she and Edgar had reached the end of the aisle, as he was discreetly trying to take back his arm from the death grip she seemed to have on it. A light blush rose on Anna's cheeks, as did a wan smile of embarrassment; Gabe looked torn between hurt and amusement. She stood awkwardly next to him, staring straight at the pastor. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and Anna could practically feel her mother's weighty stare. She definitely was not pleased Anna was late and ignoring her.
The pastor gave instructions Anna carefully absorbed, hoping like crazy she didn't mess up tomorrow. Gabe's presence by her side was both a comfort and an irritant, so that by the end, all she really wanted to do was go home and sleep in her bed and never wake up again. She was so afraid.
The pastor closed the rehearsal, smiling kindly at Gabe and Anna. Gabe responded warmly, while Anna hardly managed to register that he was steering her down the aisle and towards the back of the church where her mother waited to be taken to the rehearsal dinner. As she passed Jas, her friend gave her a sympathetic look and waved her car keys.
“See you at the dinner, ”she mouthed. The shorter girl nodded.
“Anna!” cried Catherine, hurrying forward. Gabe easily moved a slight distance away, so as to avoid the whirlwind of fury that was Anna’s mother. “Where were you?”
“Hunting. I had to walk here. My car broke down.” For some reason, she seemed incapable of articulating in longer, coherent sentences. Her anxiety ratcheted up a notch.
“I can go get it with Pete and Theo tonight,” offered Gabe. Unable to answer, Anna just stared at him. Her mother took care of insisting that it was alright, and he only had to do it if he wanted.
“We can always get it back later,” she rationalized. Anna realized then that she had failed to specify the fact that her car was by the docks. If it wasn’t gone now, it would be by tomorrow.
“I’ll get it tonight.” Gabe brushed over her mother’s insistences politely and focused his intense gaze on her. A questioning look flashed in his eyes before he retreated behind his protective mask of calm and coolness. Desperately, the Huntress wished to convey that she wasn’t having second thoughts, that she was just scared, but all she could do was stand there mutely.
“Well, come on then,”Cathy said to her daughter, tugging at her arm. “You and Gabe aren’t going to keep everyone waiting, are you? You have to greet the guests at the hall.”
Nodding dumbly, she followed her mother and future-husband -to-be to his car, sitting in the passenger seat only when her mother climbed into the back. As he started the car, Gabe slipped a hand to rest lightly on her knee, not looking at her as her mother rambled on. His touch finally loosened the tense terror that had seized her, and although still nervous, she relaxed a bit and felt more like she could talk. She offered Gabe a more sincere smile, which he returned with a tinge of relief.
“I’m sorry I was late, Mom,” she said suddenly turning to face her mother.
“Yes, well. You shouldn’t have been hunting so late, but I understand. I was a Huntress, too.” Cathy smiled calmly. “Now, let’s just focus on you two being married for a while.”
Anna and Gabe faked loud groans, much to Cathy’s amusement. The rest of the ride to the reception hall was much smoother and comfortable. Fingers twined with Gabe’s, Annabelle finally felt complete, no matter how cheesy it sounded. This truly was where she belonged.
***
Banging woke Isabelle from where she had fallen asleep on the floor, reading through the letters. She sat up groggily, noting that it was dark outside.
“Oh, no” she mumbled, reaching blindly for the papers in the darkness. However, wherever her hand touched, she felt nothing. The letters and pictures were gone. Startled by this revelation, she stood and spun in place, staring in shock at the cleanliness of the room. It was nothing like it had been when she had first arrived. And she knew that she had only gotten to dusting the third drawer of the dresser.
The banging increased in volume as Mary Anne’s voice was added to the mix. “Isabelle? Are you done yet? It’s way past dinner time.”
“Uh, yeah. Just a moment.” Isabelle picked the Swiffer up and spun around once more. She paused by the dresser to pull out the third drawer and peer inside. This time, there was no tell tale warping to show her where the secret compartment had been.
“Isabelle? Are you alright?” Concern tinged Mary’s voice. Isabelle realized her time in this room was done- until she could contrive a way to get back. She hurriedly shoved the drawer back into place and ran to the door.
Mary Anne was standing outside, fist poised to knock yet again. “Oh, good, there you are. Edgar almost had kittens when you didn’t show up for supper. He nearly sent out his dogs.” She paused, peering inside the room to gape at its now clean interior. “Wow, you’ve really done a good job this time. I mean, you always do just fine, but this room was in such bad shape last time I was in here.”
The shorter maid started to protest, but caught herself in time. Despite the fact that weird things happened here all the time, she felt a strange need to keep this one quiet- if only for a little while. She merely smiled and nodded in thanks.
Mary tucked a piece of blond hair behind her ear. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Might as well assuage the beast that is Edgar Thorax.” The two smiled, and, as Mary turned and lead the way back to the dining room, Belle stopped to stare into the room one last time with confusion playing across her features. Reluctantly, she closed the door on the mystery for a little while.
Meanwhile, inside the room and completely hidden from the naked eye huddled a group of tiny green demons. They watched the girl leave quietly, a limited intelligence gleaming in their eyes. Tiny claws and hands clutched the retrieved papers carefully. The biggest little demon -the leader- motioned for the others to follow him through a crack at the bottom of the wall and out into the late night air.
None noticed the dully gleaming silver necklace hidden near the door, waiting to be found.
A man clothed in all black-so typical, he thought- was waiting for the demons in a tree right next to Thorax’s property. The demons handed over their treasures, which he pocketed with a sigh.
“Well, the boss’ll be wanting these,” he muttered to himself. “I still think we shouldn’t have to hide. But we’ll see.” With that he dropped out of the tree and disappeared, melding completely with the night. The demons watched with awe, exchanging glances before they, too went home.
Ok, for some reason the note dealies are in a grey box. Um, if you highlight it, you get to read my rambling drivel. BUT IT'S FINISHED!!!