EverymanHYBRID (ARG): lost and forgotten be
Title: lost and forgotten be
Author: jack_infinitude /Luipaard
Pairing: N/A
Rating: g
Summary: They were buried near the center of the cemetery.
Disclaimer: Not affiliated with the series or any of the crew.
Warnings: None.
Notes: For the prompt ‘there was an old, gnarled tree standing at the entrance of the cemetery.’
There was an old, gnarled tree standing guard at the entrance of the cemetery. Jeff always had to stop and look at it before he passed through the gate. He had no idea what type of tree it was - just that it was as black as Vinnie’s hair, and that its stooping, twisted boughs were always leafless, no matter what time of year it was.
He stared at it now, tracing the loops and lines etched into its bark with his gaze. By all rights he ought to be afraid of it - Slenderman has a thing for trees after all. What if it ripped its roots right out the ground and came after him? But it was hard to imagine Him bothering with the old thing. If it wasn’t dead, then it was almost at the threshold - hardly a threat, he thought, feeling the edge of the lighter in his pocket.
Jeff turned away and entered the cemetery.
Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to bury his parents at all. Cremation had been his ideal, but then Evan had wondered aloud if Alex might not want to have somewhere to visit once he got over…whatever was wrong with him, and that had been enough to tip him off his ledge and have a proper burial the way his relatives demanded. He just hadn’t expected to be the one visiting all the time. They were dead and he was alive, with a brother to keep safe and hidden and his friends being hunted by something a lot worse than a car crash. It wasn’t like he needed any reminders.
But all the same, he came here. Never with flowers though. He wasn’t that maudlin.
They were buried near the center of the cemetery. A single marker: black granite, shots of white running through it. Lightning at the witching hour. Names and dates were carved deep into stone, barely visible unless you looked at it from the right angle. He hadn’t been able to come up with any phrase fit to put on it - just considering something as thoughtlessly trite as ‘beloved wife’ and ‘loving father’ had almost made him puke right there in the shop. It remained blank, until he could come up with something better. Anything better.
He turned off the path and walked a ways until he was front of it. He crouched and dusted off the dry, crumbling leaves, the sheen of dirt. The nice thing about black is that the dirt never shows. Though he’ll have to come back later with paper towels, and maybe Windex or something if he really wanted to make a dent. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and stayed hunched over. He didn’t move for a long time.
Jeff hadn’t thought he’d be the one who came visiting. He wasn’t sure if he was glad about being wrong.
Author: jack_infinitude /Luipaard
Pairing: N/A
Rating: g
Summary: They were buried near the center of the cemetery.
Disclaimer: Not affiliated with the series or any of the crew.
Warnings: None.
Notes: For the prompt ‘there was an old, gnarled tree standing at the entrance of the cemetery.’
There was an old, gnarled tree standing guard at the entrance of the cemetery. Jeff always had to stop and look at it before he passed through the gate. He had no idea what type of tree it was - just that it was as black as Vinnie’s hair, and that its stooping, twisted boughs were always leafless, no matter what time of year it was.
He stared at it now, tracing the loops and lines etched into its bark with his gaze. By all rights he ought to be afraid of it - Slenderman has a thing for trees after all. What if it ripped its roots right out the ground and came after him? But it was hard to imagine Him bothering with the old thing. If it wasn’t dead, then it was almost at the threshold - hardly a threat, he thought, feeling the edge of the lighter in his pocket.
Jeff turned away and entered the cemetery.
Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to bury his parents at all. Cremation had been his ideal, but then Evan had wondered aloud if Alex might not want to have somewhere to visit once he got over…whatever was wrong with him, and that had been enough to tip him off his ledge and have a proper burial the way his relatives demanded. He just hadn’t expected to be the one visiting all the time. They were dead and he was alive, with a brother to keep safe and hidden and his friends being hunted by something a lot worse than a car crash. It wasn’t like he needed any reminders.
But all the same, he came here. Never with flowers though. He wasn’t that maudlin.
They were buried near the center of the cemetery. A single marker: black granite, shots of white running through it. Lightning at the witching hour. Names and dates were carved deep into stone, barely visible unless you looked at it from the right angle. He hadn’t been able to come up with any phrase fit to put on it - just considering something as thoughtlessly trite as ‘beloved wife’ and ‘loving father’ had almost made him puke right there in the shop. It remained blank, until he could come up with something better. Anything better.
He turned off the path and walked a ways until he was front of it. He crouched and dusted off the dry, crumbling leaves, the sheen of dirt. The nice thing about black is that the dirt never shows. Though he’ll have to come back later with paper towels, and maybe Windex or something if he really wanted to make a dent. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and stayed hunched over. He didn’t move for a long time.
Jeff hadn’t thought he’d be the one who came visiting. He wasn’t sure if he was glad about being wrong.