A/N: This is the first fanfic I've written. Yay! I hope you guys like it and that it makes you feel like these are the actual characters. Now Lockwood and Co. belongs to Jonathan Stroud, but the OC's are mine. Enjoy!
Love Is Eternal
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Chapter 1
"Now then, why don't you tell me what you saw Mrs. Anderson." Lockwood stated as he sat down on the right side of the couch, setting the freshly made tea on the glass coffee table in front of him.
I sat down on the other side and sunk into the fluffy gray cushions. It really was a nice house, with good sized rooms filled with nice furniture and beautiful paintings. I knew once we entered the living room that these people were rich. You could tell by how the lady of the house walked and how she looked at us with her nose up, crinkling it as she measured us from head to toe.
Stupid stuck up rich people.
I set my tea down as well, getting a look at the plush cream carpet below. Swirls of black mixed with red, and deep brown flowers were spotted here and there. I pull out my note pad and pen from my coat pocket and get prepared to write down the details of the phantom.
I watch as Mrs. Anderson sat across from us in a high backed pink chair. I'm sure that in her youth she was quite beautiful, but now with her aged face filled with make-up she looks way older than what she really is. Deep frown lines cress her brow and tight, thin lips seem stuck in a forever frown.
Mrs. Anderson's hair was a dull gold, with gray streaks here and there. Her hair was short, bobbing right at her jaw line. Elegant diamond earrings hung from her ears, with dangling sliver hearts at the end.
But it's her eyes that make you cringe. The pools of stone gray stare straight through you, feeling as if she's starring into the darkest part of soul; making you think she now knows all of your greatest fears.
She brushed her pink skirt down and flattened the collar of her matching suit jacket. Once she was settled, Mrs. Anderson leaned back at measured Lockwood once more.
"Ms."
"I beg your pardon?"
Deep brown and gray collided. "Do you see a ring on this finger?" Mrs. -sorry Ms. - Anderson held out her left hand for inspection, and sure enough, there was no golden band resting on the ring finger.
"I'm sorry Ms. Anderson, I didn't notice." Lockwood says while giving a "Lockwood" smile. Ms. Anderson didn't even blink an eye. Instead she gave a slight grunt and rested her hand back down on the arm rest.
"Well then, let's continue shall we," I finally say, repositioning myself so that I could press on my leg to write.
"Quite right, Lucy," Lockwood says as he pulls out his notepad as well. "When you contacted us you said that last night you were attacked by a ghost."
This morning, at the untimely hour of 8:30, Ms. Anderson requested we come to her house at once. She said that a "gray being" attacked her and she wanted it removed immediately. I could hear her raised voice from across the room when George tried to ask her to call back later. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
While Ms. Anderson was yelling some un-lady like things at George, Lockwood came down and took the phone and set up a time for the meeting. He tried at the least. Lockwood battled over a time with Ms. Anderson for a good 15 minutes before they both settled on 10 O'clock sharp.
We decided that Lockwood and I would to go to the home visit and George would go to the library to look up the houses history. Once we got everything settled and ate breakfast, me and Lockwood were off 21 Kings Street.
On the outside it looked like a regular building, with little allies on either side that separating the two story building from the others on the street. But boy does it stand out. With its white-washed bricks, it sticks out like a sore thumb compared to all the other red bricked buildings. The windows on the second floor stick out with window seats enclosed by curved glass, while the other buildings are flat. There were currents you could pull across them too; a dark blue on the right and a solemn pink on the left.
Once we rung the door bell, we had to wait a few minutes more. She opened the door, and after looking at us up and down, walked us to her living room and already had the tea set up.
That brings us back here, with Ms. Anderson looking at us with cold eyes and Lockwood beaming at her.
"Actually," Ms. Anderson started. "it didn't attack me per say. It attacked my kids."
She paused. I look at her and saw that she actual had emotion in her eyes. Fear. After a second, it disappeared and again the coldness took hold. Ms. Anderson shook her head once and opened her mouth to continue.
"It was around midnight; I was up doing some late night reading when I heard it. My daughter was screaming. I ran out of bed to her room, but I couldn't get in." Ms. Anderson paused again. "It was being held closed by something and no matter how hard I pushed, it wouldn't budge."
There was silence as Ms. Anderson went to take a sip of tea. I also take the chance to drink some tea. It was warm and slightly bitter, but still wasn't the worst tea I've had.
I glance over at Lockwood and see the familiar gleam in his eyes. Once Ms. Anderson said that the door was being held closed, I could see Lockwood sit up straighter. He was gaining interest.
I had to say I am too. I wonder what George has found about this houses history.
The clinking of our cups broke the silence and Ms. Anderson sat back in her chair again. I pick up my pen again and hear Lockwood doing the same.
"If my son didn't come when he did…" She trailed off, then gave a slight laugh. "Well, I don't want to think what could've happened. Anyway, my son broke the door open and I saw my daughter in the back corner of the room. My sight has been long gone but I felt the presence of something there."
"Is there any way we can talk to your kids?" I ask. Kids seem to be the only people that can see and hear the ghosts. Seems like everyone has at least the sight, some better than others. But when you get older, you lose your Talents. Hopefully her kids are below the age of 21.
"They went out for a little while. They'll be back in a few. I must say though, neither of my kids has the best Talents. They can't hear them and can only slightly see them." Ms. Anderson looked at us. "My fault there, never really could either."
Well, that's great. Hopefully we'll get something useful from them.
"We're out of tea, I'll go make some more." Ms. Anderson said as she got up. "Want anything else?"
"Some biscuits would be nice." Lockwood said while throwing a polite smile her way. She didn't return it. I watch her walk to the kitchen, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor.
"Type Two, probably a Specter, but maybe a Poltergeist." I say as I clip my pen to the notebook.
"I agree," Lockwood said. "but we won't know wither it's a Specter or not till we hear from her kids."
"Yeah, sounds like we'll hear a lot from them." I let my head fall onto the back of the couch.
"Well, some people are like that Lucy. At least they probably saw the Visitor; if it was only Ms. Anderson we would have nothing." Lockwood said while propping his leg up onto his other leg. If he wasn't careful he would have knocked the table over. It's a little too close for my liking.
I hear the sounds of plates clicking against each other from the kitchen and a few moments later Ms. Anderson was walking back in here with a tray of biscuits. She laid the silver tray down on the table and handed us small dessert plates.
We said our thanks and each took one of the warm chocolate chip cookies. The cookie rule still applies even when George not around.
As I went to take a bite of the biscuit, I heard the front door opening.
Ms. Anderson heard it too. "That'll be them," And with that left to go greet her children.
I set my cookie back down on the small plate and placed it on the coffee table. I see Lockwood do the same and grab his notebook which he had set on the table earlier. I pull mine back out as well and unclip the pen.
I heard the front door close and the faint sounds of voices. After a few moments of this, the faint sounds of high heels walking across the floor sounded and then Ms. Anderson reappeared with her two kid's trialing behind her.
I didn't expect them to look exactly alike.
Well, maybe not exactly alike. One was a boy and the other was a girl and their hair way different lengths, but other than that they looked identical.
They shared their mothers golden hair, but theirs shone with youth. The boys was cut close to the head but was long enough for him the spike up a little bit. The girls was long, reaching beneath her robust chest, and fell into lose ringlets. Both shared bright blue-green eyes and beautiful fascial features, with nice cheek bones and red lips. They were about medium height, both being taller than Ms. Anderson by five or six centimeters.
They also shared their mother's personality. They regarded us with cold eyes, and with a few looks up and down, they turned away to sit in the "love seat" to our right.
As they sat down, I heard Lockwood clear his throat and watch him put his leg back down onto the floor, still barley missing the coffee table.
I got ready to write down what they would say, but the sound of more feet made me look up. I then find myself looking at a new face as young girl walked into the room. She looked around the age of thirteen, with curly brown hair that went a little below her shoulders. She had a somewhat round face that came down to a nice rounded chin. Black rimmed glasses framed her face which made her deep brown eyes look a little small.
She looked out of place, being much shorter than the twins and not sharing the families golden hair. I watch as she walked over to the chair on my left and sat down, crossed her legs and rested a notebook on them. I watch her grab a pencil from the end table and open the notebook. The faint sounds of graphite scraping against paper filled the room.
It wasn't a notebook, but a sketch pad.
Lockwood cleared his throat once more. "Now then, since we're all here, why don't you give us your names and what you saw last night."
"I'm Maria-"
"And I'm Arthur."
If it wasn't for the fact that they were different genders, I don't think I would've known who had what name. The boy -Arthur- picked up right after his sister, without the slightest hint of hesitation. Why do twins do this?
I take a glance at the brown haired girl. She still sat hunched over her sketch pad; I don't think she even heard Lockwood. There was a short silence as we waited for her name. A disapproving snort came from Ms. Anderson which was followed by giggles from the twins.
Lockwood taped his fingers impatiently on the arm rest. "Maria, you were the one to first see the ghost. Can you tell us what you saw?" I ask.
I watch Maria eyes darken and look at the floor. "I woke up to extreme cold, like, it was really cold. So I get up to go grab an extra blanket, right, and then I see it." She took a raspy breath. "It just floated there, right in the middle of my room! It seemed to tower over me, like, it was trying to fall on top of me!" Tears appeared in her eyes. "I couldn't move, all I could do was scream."
She broke out into sobs. She brought her hands up to cover her face and doubled over, her back racking with effort. Arthur patted her back while she cried, pulling Maria closer to him. Ms. Anderson didn't show any sign of getting up to comfort her daughter, only closing her eyes and resting her chin on her folded hands.
I almost felt bad for Maria. Being in Ghost-lock is a scary thing, coming from one who has been in it before. Being over whelmed by fear and not being able to do anything about it makes you feel helpless. You are at the mercy of the ghost, and once it touches you it's all over.
That's the main reason why we operatives work in teams. If someone gets caught in a Ghost-lock we can be there to stop the Visitor from touching them. Being Ghost-touched is not a pleasant feeling, or so I've heard.
After a few minutes, Maria sobs turned to sniffles and then disappeared altogether. She reached down to her purse, which lay on the floor beside the couch, and pulled out a small travel sized bag of tissues. Lockwood and I sat patiently while she dabs her eyes dry.
"I saw it too," Arthur said. "It was a man, that much I can tell you, with wide shoulders and a muscular frame. Once we entered my sister's room, it turned and looked at us and then, just disappeared." Maria nodded and tucked her now damp tissue back into her purse.
"No."
Lockwood and I were writing down the details of the Spector when the voice made us look up. The brown-haired girl was still staring intently at what she was sketching, but she was sitting up now. Her voice surprised me. It was light, unlike Marias' voice which is high a pitchy. But what really surprised me was her accent, it was American.
She looked up from her drawing to glance at us, making sure we were paying attention, then looked back down. "It was a young woman; probably around 24 give or take a few years. She had long light brown hair, lying straight against her back. Her slim frame made her small, making her seem more fragile then what she really was. And when she turned around," The girl gave a little sigh through her nose. "her face was pale with a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Pale lips pecked out just above a blue scarf that was wrapped around her neck."
She stopped drawing and set her pencil down on the table and looked thoughtfully at her paper. "Something like this." And then she passed the sketch pad to me, I grabbed it while bumping my knees against the coffee table.
I felt Lockwood looking over my shoulder as I stared at the picture. It was beautiful! A woman was drawn standing in the center, head turned slightly to the right staring at something far away. Long hair was laid over her shoulder and was pushed back behind her ear. Her hand pulled at her scarf, like she was trying to keep out the cold. The scarf laid loosely around her neck and fell over her chest. The woman wore a white long-sleeved cashmere shirt that was a little too big, hanging at her mid thin and covering her hands. She wore skinny jeans that became hidden by knee high boots.
I was amazed by how detailed it was. Not only did it look like a living person, but it was all done in black and white. You could see how much she put into this, the freckles across the woman's cheeks to the small piercings in her ears. There was even a slight fog in front of her mouth, giving the effect that she was actually breathing.
"If you have such good Sight, why don't you join the night watch and do something useful." Ms. Anderson said. I flinch at the coldness in her voice, but the brown-haired girl merely shrugged and sat back into the chair.
"I already have enough cold and darkness in my life. I don't need anymore." The girl met Ms. Anderson's gaze with a pleasant smile, one that even reached her eyes.
I didn't like where this was going. With Ms. Anderson venomous glare and the girl's polite smile, I could tell that this probably would end in a yelling match. I decided to break the silence before anything happened, but Lockwood beat me to it.
"Well Ms. Anderson, I think that is all we need to know." He started to stand. "We will come back tonight to conduct our investigation, let's say around 10:30. Come on, Lucy, we'll show ourselves out." Together we gathered our things and headed to the front door, I could feel Ms. Anderson's eyes on my back as we left.
As we reached the front door, we heard footsteps coming our way. I turn to see the brown-haired girl walking towards us. She stopped in front of us and gave a small smile. "Hey, sorry about that back there. I just wanted to let you know it wasn't your fault. We're always like that." She laughed and brought her hand up to rub the back of her neck.
"No problem," Lockwood beamed at her and extended his hand. "I don't believe we caught your name earlier." His hand hung there a moment before she took it, shaking it lightly.
"Brianna."
Wow, I thought, she even has an American name.
"I'm Lockwood and this is Lucy Carlyle." My hand replaced Lockwood's and shook her hand. Brianna's hands were small with long fingers, the hands of an artist. I felt light calluses and when I brought my hand away there were smudges of graphite across my wrist. I noticed Lockwood rubbing the streaks on his hand away on his jacket.
Brianna took notice and started to rub her hands. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. Can I get you anything to whip it off?" She asked as she turned to leave.
"No, no, it's fine really." I say as I shot a glare at Lockwood. "Your drawing was amazing."
"Really?" She smiled. "You can keep it then if you like, you know, too help with your investigation. But I need my sketch pad back."
I didn't realize till now that I still had hold of her sketch book. "Of course, I would love to have it!" I hand the sketch book back to her and watch as tears the picture out. Once satisfied with the outcome, she hands it back to me. "May I fold it?" I wasn't carrying any sort of bag with me. I only had my coat pocket.
"It's yours now. You can do whatever you want with it," Brianna replied, smiling. She made it seem like this was the first time anyone took a liking to her art.
Lockwood clapped his hands together. "Well, we best be going then. Tell Ms. Anderson thanks for giving us her time." He then opened the door and we both walked out into the windy weather. As we walked down the stairs, Brianna's voice sounded from the door way.
"Be careful when you come back tonight, I wouldn't underestimate this Visitor." She walked back inside and before she closed the door she looked back at us. "Not that I think it's a problem, considering your reputation." Brianna gave us a smile and shut the door.
We stood looking at the door for a while before Lockwood broke the silence. "I have a feeling this will be an interesting case." I nodded and we both turned to call another taxi.
I couldn't agree more, I thought.
A/N: Thanks for reading! R/R please! I would love to know what you thought
