The Other Side of the Door
One: In Which Zoe Learns of the Missing Children
ooo
Zoe first heard of the missing children a while after moving into her new home.
She and her family had moved into it only a few days before. It was a tall, ancient building, with ivy creeping up the side of the house and a stench of maturity that pervaded the whole area. There were three floors in it, four if you counted the cellar, and each one seemed to be planned out exactly like the one below (except, for obvious reasons, the cellar).
Zoe was still getting used to the idea of living in a place like this, away from her nest in central London. It was the one of the only buildings on the moor it was situated on, and the nearest village was a quarter-of-an-hour walk away. Though the ownership deed said so, her parents said so, and her brother said so, Zoe would never properly think of it as her house; not really. It was much bigger than their old flat, for instance, and much older as well.
When they had arrived there, it had been raining just like the day Zoe found the hidden room, but that rain was far heavier. By the time Zoe got out of the car and ran through the front door, into the hallway of the house, droplets of water were running off her blue raincoat, and her long, smooth brown hair clung damply to her skin. She looked behind her, and saw that her parents were already getting out of the car, her poor father grabbing some extra boxes from the boot while her mother shouted orders at him. Her brother was walking quietly up the drive, his black jacket unzipped and his hood down as though he wasn't bothered by the rain.
Which he probably wasn't, to be honest. Her brother wasn't bothered by a great deal of things, unlike Zoe herself. The tiniest thing could set her off; from dirty laundry left lying on the ground, to muddy footsteps splattered across the clean kitchen floor to, God forbid, someone eating messily. That was her one weakness; though she was a nice, sweet girl, polite and well-behaved, especially to adults, her temper wasn't her strongest point.
She supposed that was why she hadn't many friends.
Her brother, Eddward (referred to as Double D by his peers back down in London Town), was the same age as herself, for they were twins; they had the same deep-brown hair, and the same sky-blue eyes. They were both tall (especially Ed) and slim (especially Zoe) but they were alike in many ways. They were always by each other's side, and he had been her one true friend her whole life; as had she to him. The odd thing about Eddward was a piece of clothing he always wore; a black ski cap. It rested atop his head as though it was made just for him, and only Zoe, himself and their parents knew why he wore the cap
"Well," he said quietly, as they both stood in the musty silence of the quaint entrance hall, "this is certainly different, yes?"
"Yes. A little too different."
"Don't worry!" he laughed heartily. "I'm sure we'll be fine." He said something else, which made Zoe laugh as well while her parents walked through the door.
"What's all the hilarity in here for?" asked her father, with a cheeky glint in his eye.
"It's nothing," replied Zoe. "Shall I help you with those boxes, Dad?"
"No need, sweetheart. Why don't you go and see your room again?" Zoe replied with a nod and skipped up the stairs in the hall, down another long room that stretched the whole width of the house, and into her room.
Zoe had instantly liked it when they first arrived several months ago to inspect it. It wasn't particularly large, no different than her own room at their former home. Yes all the windows faced the east, so that each morning, instead of mechanical alarm clocks, Zoe was woken by golden sunlight streaming through the open windows and onto her face. The bed was long and wide, and soft to the touch, as were the accompanying pillows. A wardrobe and armoire, both made of mahogany wood, were by the (painted) pink wall opposite the bed, and her desk was right by the door as you came in. It wasn't any different than any other twelve year-olds room; perhaps there was a lack of a computer, mobile phone or television, but all in all it was the same.
Zoe was glad when she realised she wouldn't be getting a computer in her room. She greatly detested the things (unlike her brother) with all their hard buttons, and fiddly knobs and all other sorts of meaningless contraptions. She never went on it for anything; she had her own encyclopaedia instead of the infernal Wikipedia, and she wrote out all her school reports by hand. Not that she ever went to school; her father had ordered a private tutor for Zoe. Miss Baxter. A cheery woman with a slightly stout disposition, she had taught Zoe and Edward for the past twelve years.
But Zoe was much too tired for that; the journey by car had been long, and it was late. Taking off her jacket and hanging it in the wardrobe, Zoe sank under her bed sheets for the night.
For the next week Zoe explored the surrounding countryside, and the local village as well: Baddington-on-Loafe. Loafe was the name of the local river (which was really no more than a brook), yet Zoe found it funny how the village sounded with the river name in it's name. To Zoe, the name on the wooden welcome sign looked like a formal sandwich with funny cheese on it. The village was a boring, though quaint, place, with a number of several families living there; Mr. and Mrs. Blooke, the keepers of the village shop. They had two children as well; Sarah, red-haired and a temper the same tone, and her brother Ed, a kind, jovial fellow who had followed Zoe and Edd when they first came to village like a lapdog follows its master. Miss Chimeny, the school matron; uptight, smartly dressed, yet very kind and fair. Her niece was currently staying with her; Nazz, a radiant beauty with hair the colour of gold and eyes the colour of the sea. Mr. Bowie and his wife (who owned a tiny, usually empty garage) and their son Eddy, a fellow only the same height as Sarah but with an ego as tall as her brother. Jimmy, a timid, sky young lad who was best friends with Sarah, and whose mother, Miss Batlerble, was a "purveyor of the textile arts" (or to Zoe a fashion designer).
Kevin, an athletic, strapping young man who lived with his parents, the Larmenet's (his father was the village mayor). Lee, Marie and May Kanker, three sisters who attracted trouble like wasps to a flame, and their mother, who ran a local café which also had a room in it where Miss Kanker would partake in psychic readings for individuals who paid the right price.. Jonny, a bald, free-spirited boy with a piece of wood, a crude face drawn with pencil on it, as his constant companion. His parents, the Forrester's were eco-biologists (or something of the sort) and practically lived in the local wood. There was also Rolf; Rolf, the blue-haired foreigner who lived and worked on a farm along with the rest of his family.
There were, of course, several other families in the village as well; Jennifer and Elle, two sisters with teal eyes whose mother was the village librarian and their father the manager of "Goldton Watches Lmd." Michael Parkinson, with his spiky blonde hair, and who nobody knew exactly what his parents did. Lindsay, an enigmatic brunette whose father seemed to be slightly mentally unstable and had to be wheeled about in a wheelchair by her mother, who constantly apologized for her husband's ill-timed remarks.
All in all, the families she had met so far seemed reasonably ordinary; the village wasn't a tiny hamlet, so there were other families, but Zoe could see a bright future for herself in this village (unless the other children found out about her temper).
This time however, when she went out into the village for a few errands with her mother, it was surprisingly devoid of many children; unlike the last time. After walking nearly the whole length of main street she finally found someone; Elle, sitting miserable in the doorway of her house, sniffing and rubbing her bloodshot eyes.
"Oh," she sniffed as she saw Zoe standing there awkwardly, "you're the new girl, aren't you? Zoey, right?"
"Yes, but it's Zoe; not Zoey. Mind if I take a seat?"
"Go ahead." Zoe sat down gently in the doorway beside Elle, and began to carefully ask her why she was crying.
"Care to share your thoughts?" she asked brightly.
"…Ok. My sister…has been kidnapped. Along with the other children as well; Marie Kanker, Kevin Larmenet and myself are the only ones left…"
"What?" asked Zoe, shocked. Why would anyone dream of stealing a teenager from a rural place like this?
"I know! I went to sleep one night, and when I woke up she was gone! Snatched out of her bed!" She stopped to exam Zoe, as if to see if she could be trusted. "But there's…something else. My parents would never believe me if I told them, but I think I know who did it."
"Really?" asked Zoe, suddenly surprised. "What are your theories?"
"It was her… She who creeps around at night, flooding children's hearts at night." Elle said this automatically, as though in a trance. "She whose heart is formed like stone, she who wants to keep you alone. She with hands a-crimson nailed, a monstrous being whose creation was failed. She has powers like no other, she who is…" Elle stopped suddenly, scared to say the rest.
"Are you ok?" asked Zoe, concerned. She gently laid her hand on Elle's bare knee, but she stood up abruptly, her pink denim dress shaking as she did so.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered, backing away from Zoe. "I'm so, so sorry…" She began to cry slightly, before fleeing from Zoe. Perplexed, she watched the blonde run away from her, down into the country fields. Zoe was worried by this; what had caused the girl to be so scared? She shrugged it off as a case of nervousness, and proceeded to walk briskly back home when the "Café Kanker" caught her eye. She had heard how Miss Kanker gave out psychic readings, and Zoe was curious; she was somewhat interested in the paranormal and occult, and she wanted to get a reading for herself. She walked through the front door, and saw Marie Kanker standing, bored, behind the cash register. She straightened up (slightly) when she saw Zoe come in.
"Oh," she stated, "it's you, that new girl."
"Yes, my name is Zoe; without a y. Is your mother in?"
"Why do ya want her?"
"I've heard she gives psychic readings, and I would like one myself."
Marie Kanker shrugged, and gestured with her hand to a door at the other end of the room, with tables covered with lace cloths between the door and her.
"She's in there. Just walk on in and sit down. Hope ya hear whatcha wanna hear." She flashed Zoe a crooked half-smile before returning to her work. Zoe walked into the room and closed the door behind her. Fabrics hung on the wall, and there was a strong smell of incense in the room. Miss Kanker, robed in red, sat at a wooden table in the room, which had the only source of light; a wicker candle, which glowed softly in the silver candle-holder it rested in.
"Hey there honey." She smiled slyly at Zoe, leaning forward and rested her head on the back of her hands, which were lain atop of each other. Heavy makeup was on her face, and her blonde hair fell limply around it. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like my future told, please."
"Of course. Why don't ya take a seat and I'll take a little look at your palm."
As Zoe sat herself down, on the opposite side of the table from Miss Kanker, she scrutinized her with curious eyes. "You're not from around here, are you, Miss?"
"Nope. How could you tell?"
"Your accent is nothing like around here."
Miss Kanker laughed as though it was a funny joke. "True, true. I'm from the other side of the pond-California, to be exact. And please, don't call me Miss, it makes me feel old. I'm Alisonn instead."
"Ok then. Alisonn."
Miss Kanker-sorry, Alisonn-motioned for Zoe to lay out her palm (which she did) and gently took it into her own right hand. She gazed intently at it, as if it were a picture; for a picture is worth a thousand words. She touched it with her hand, slowly, carefully prodding the pale flesh; before gasping in horror and snapping back her hand.
"What?" asked Zoe, greatly disturbed. All the colour in Alisonn's face had drained out, leaving it sallow and macabre with the make up on. She looked at Zoe in fear; and, oddly, pity.
"Oh honey…" she said slowly. "I don't know how to tell ya this, but you're in real danger."
"Is it anything to do with the kidnapped children?"
"Possibly yes, but we can't be too sure. The messages I got from your hand were blurred, but it was there, sure as Hell; a sense of great sadness and fear."
"What can I do?" asked Zoe in desperation. "Please, you must help me!"
"I can give you something to guide you, protect you." Alisonn Kanker, the psychic, reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a little necklace with a stone tied onto it. It was an odd stone, with a hole directly through the middle.
"What's that?" asked Zoe.
"A seeing stone," replied Alisonn. "It can help you see things that aren't there." Zoe instantly put it up to her right eye, staring thorough the hole at the medium. "But not here, honey! It won't work until you're in…" Alisonn was reluctant to say it, but Zoe knew what she meant.
"Until you're in danger."
"Well," continued Alisonn, trying to be brighter for poor Zoe's sake, "you best be off home. It's getting late now, and we don't want your parents worrying, do we?"
"No, we don't," confirmed Zoe. "Thanks for your help, Alison."
"Anytime, dear; anytime."
ooo
By the time Zoe reached her home, it was six o'clock, and the sun was just on the horizon, casting its last rays for the day. The night passed normally; Zoe had a dinner (consisting of chicken and salad), she read a book (The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman) and she got washed and was in bed for ten o'clock. Her dreams, however, were very different.
She dreamt of a long, winding tunnel, pitch-black in front yet with strange patches of colour on the wall. A midnight-black cat with diamond-yellow eyes, hissing and lunging at something in the darkness; and a group of mice. They played and danced for her, yet Zoe was puzzled; how could they do this? The they stopped and began to sing, and Zoe noticed that it was the rhyme Elle had said before. Only this time, they finished it.
"She who creeps around at night, flooding children's hearts with fright.
She whose heart is formed like stone, she who wants to keep you alone.
She with hands a-crimson nailed, a monstrous being whose creation was failed.
She has powers like no other, she who is the Other Mother."
Ooo
AN: Well, this was…different, yet fun, to right. Please review! And if you've not guessed, it's a Coraline/EEnE story.