Ficlet: Something New Every Day
Carter Bledsoe's sitting on trash bags in the front seat of the car, his red-brown curls plastered down against his scalp in a sticky, drying mess. His clothes are soaked through with the same clear gunk, and they've gone through half a box of Hefty bags just to keep the mess off the passenger seat until they can get home and get him cleaned up and changed.
"Don't. Say. It." Carter looks sidelong at Rhys, sitting next to him behind the wheel, but Rhys just grins, white teeth flashing in the dark.
"What? I wasn't going to say anything." The mage pretends to concentrate on the road, but his eyes are still glittering.
"You're thinking it. I know you." The shorter man crosses his arms over his blocky chest, sinking lower. His clothes stick stiffly, saturated all the way through as they are with what Rhys had to- absolutely had to refer to as a ghostly money-shot.
It had been a pretty standard haunting, if a bit more tenacious than expected. Mitzi Howard had not wanted to go quietly, and had demonstrated a very impressive level of poltergeist ability before Rhys had managed to sense out the silver powder-case that she'd bound herself to and destroy it.
And that hadn't quite gone as expected, either. Rhys had come downstairs, to...well...a hell of a lot bigger mess than just a few tossed-around plates and upended furniture.
Another few miles pass in awkward silence, and then Carter finally uncrosses his arms with a moist sound like peeling glue. "...I didn't know they could DO that, okay?!"
And that's it. Rhys has to pull the car over to the shoulder of the road, he's cackling so hard.
"Don't. Say. It." Carter looks sidelong at Rhys, sitting next to him behind the wheel, but Rhys just grins, white teeth flashing in the dark.
"What? I wasn't going to say anything." The mage pretends to concentrate on the road, but his eyes are still glittering.
"You're thinking it. I know you." The shorter man crosses his arms over his blocky chest, sinking lower. His clothes stick stiffly, saturated all the way through as they are with what Rhys had to- absolutely had to refer to as a ghostly money-shot.
It had been a pretty standard haunting, if a bit more tenacious than expected. Mitzi Howard had not wanted to go quietly, and had demonstrated a very impressive level of poltergeist ability before Rhys had managed to sense out the silver powder-case that she'd bound herself to and destroy it.
And that hadn't quite gone as expected, either. Rhys had come downstairs, to...well...a hell of a lot bigger mess than just a few tossed-around plates and upended furniture.
Another few miles pass in awkward silence, and then Carter finally uncrosses his arms with a moist sound like peeling glue. "...I didn't know they could DO that, okay?!"
And that's it. Rhys has to pull the car over to the shoulder of the road, he's cackling so hard.