Taboo: A social or religious custom prohibiting or forbidding discussion of a particular practice or forbidding association with a particular person, place, or thing.

The lamp that hangs to its only chain, hooked onto the ceiling, dangles around, almsot going unnoticed by the goth girl. Its light that it was created to give life to had been nearly short circuiting, dying as it sparkles on and off, with the faint sound that, if enhanced, would sound something like a motel's vacancy neon sign.

Lucy Loud sits at one end of the interrogation room, in between both of her parents. The table was that of a long, metallic brand that perfectly fit into the blue room in which it felt to Lucy like a scene from a supernatural horror movie that she would enjoy. In fact, she would be enjoying it at this second, if not for the serious and dangerous occasion the three had come for.

Rita Loud, the heavily concerned mother, taps nervously onto the table, making clanking sounds with her fingernails that only mildly irritating the goth. She and Lynn Loud Sr., the hard working father of the two missing kids, were more openly worried about the ongoing events while Lucy maintained her gloomy frown.

There was no telling what she was feeling at the second, but she wasn't here to brood at all. No, she wanted to help her sister Lynn and save Lincoln, whichever was more possible.

Lucy observes the cracked floor while the three wait for their interrogator, or interrogators. She notices that there were cracks that measly decorated the light blue floor, adding gray polkadots into the painting that was the floor.

Finally, the knob twitches and turns, before swinging open. In comes the only single man, in a long brown coat that awfully seems like a trench coat. His black pants are almost concealed underneath it. He, sporting short blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, holds a yellow folder, full with enough sheets to sat it was a packet. "Good evening, Loud family, is it?"

Lynn Sr. and Rita nod in an untimed fashion, giving the detective the signal to sit down.

The detective looked to be in his 40s at most, with wrinkles already beginning to form around his face. The lines were clear on his forehead. He moves a cup of warm coffee that he left there before the Louds were brought in, and he groans. "Damn, I hate cold joe," he mutters under his breath. He sets down the folder, and causally opens it up, to slide several of the sheets around the table.

The one he stared at was a statement. "Which one of you is Lucy Loud?"

The goth raises her hand with no hesitation. "I am, sir," she complies.

"And, so, you are the one who began to record the odd behavior your sister, uhhh..." He squinted at the sheet. Curse these kids and their horrible penmanship. "...Lynn, was exhibiting?"

"Yes, sir. I've noted them all down in a journal I bought immediately after I noticed it," she answers.

The detective begins to skim through the rest of the sheets, some of which were entries of said journal. ""I'm not going to lie here folks, but..."

The parents prepare for the worst to hear, and grow pale with such fright. "But what?" Rita asks.

"Lucy, who, other than you, has read the contents of the journal?"

"My parents, but only after... After Lynn and Lincoln disappeared," she answers with a sudden emotion. It was only then that she feels the cool temperature in the room. She shakes a little at the chilly sensation, wondering what to say.

"So, you told them too late, is that what I'm inferring here?" The detective takes a small sip from his coffee.

"Yes, I did, sir," Lucy admits, now feeling more responsible than she believed she originally was.

"It's understandable. You believed Lynn needed help, and so, what, you made it your mission to try so? That's what I'm getting at here."

"If that's the simplified version, then yes, correct," she utters in her usual tone.

"Lucy, do you know why you're here?" It was a rhetorical question for him, but he had to know if she suspects the true reason she was asked to come to the station.

"Because of my journal, sir. It's the only evidence that such things took place around me," the goth replies.

"How close were you to Lymn, if I may ask?"

"She and I shared a room, so we were close enough, but not on the same level as having mutual things in common."

"Uhhh, detective," Lynn Sr. began, "I-If I may-"

"You may address me as Detective Antonucci," the middle aged man states.

"Have there been any leads with all the evidence presented at hand? Does anything here suggest where my two kids are?"

Detective Antonucci begins to form his own ideas in the case. It was odd that a very young girl had done her initial, private investigation by herself, just three weeks before the vanishing that assembled them here today. "No, not at all, and that's why you, Lucy, are going to try and enlighten me in that area."

Lucy prepared for the mind games she anticipated before coming. She had to carefully choose her words while holding back what no one needed to know and hear, which was the whole reason why this was happening. She didn't sweat or tremble at the fact she had to hide. Hell, she displayed no clear sign of nervousness that would suggest she wasn't being honest. "I don't know what you want me to say," Lucy says, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I only wrote what I've observed, mixed with my feelings on the matter of course."

"Yes, I can see that," he contorted bluntly. "But it's a bit cryptic, if I'm to be honest. You didn't fill the notebook, so there weren't too many little strange events around her, huh?"

Lucy sees through the act.

"...Or, did you not write them all down?" The professional detective waited for a glitch in Lucy's expression or body movement, which he believed would come to light.

"Detective Antonucci," Rita sat up, aggravated. "What are you implying?"

"It could very well be that this young lady is not being fully honest here," Antonucci responded with no restraint.

"That is absolute horsesh-" Rita starts to yell.

"Whoa now, honey!" Lynn Sr. rises from his chair to calm his distraught wife. "Easy breaths, just like yoga, darling. Let's not antagonize anyone today, shall we?"

Rita returned her unstable storm back to steady weather in the comforts of her mind. "Sorry, it's- It's been hard for us, and all I want is for my two babies to be back home."

Lynn Sr. dragged his chair next to her, making a horrid scraping sound that broke the moment's silence. The detective cleared his throat and continued. "I've not much to go on, but I truly feel like there's something that needs to be shared. Lucy..."

The goth couldn't go there, no matter what. Reverse psychology, mind games, or touchy feely mush were gonna be played here.

"If there is anything that must be thrown into our midst, say it now. This isn't a game, you know. This is very serious. Every little detail can possibly help with the current situation, young lady."

"With all due respect, detective, our girl knows just as much as you do. I don't see the reason why she'd hold back critical information at a time like this," says the father in a serious tone, while rubbing his hurt wife's shoulders gently.

"As the story goes, the house goes searched, and no evidence, not even texts of the phones the two left behind, was there for us, until you come here with this. This..." He opens his trench coat to reveal the actual gray journal and sets in above one of the entry copies and pats it. "See, you did know something, and we were to believe this was nothing more than a simple duo runaway case. But this here, this suggests something else in play, and you're telling me you know only what's written in this book? I'm getting skeptical here."

"That's the truth. All that I've seen and heard from Lynn is all noted in there," Lucy adds.

"Young lady, it should be known that I've been on the force for over fifteen years. My nose is twitching with what you're trying to sell me, but then again, I'm not getting any younger, so maybe it's just me." He clears his throat like he did not just accuse the goth of being a withholder. "In any case, there have been no clear leads as of yet. Sir, ma'am, we're doing our best we can to get these two kids back to you as soon as possible."

"Yes, we understand that," Rita spoke softly. "But is there nothing more we can do at the moment?"

"Well," Antonucci ponders, "You can put out flyers, tell close friends and family, whatever you can to get the word out."

Lucy gave herself a mental pat on the back, relieved that she wasn't up against something of a battle for maintaining the treasure chest of secrets underneath the ocean.

She was eager to leave now before anything else would feel off or something was able to be deduced. In the actual gray journal, there was something that could only lead to Lucy being guilty for some reason, which she didn't need to actually have anyone notice. "So, may I have my journal back, or-"

"Lucy!" Lynn Sr. scolds her, sensing the lack of respect and seriousness that was due to the detective.

"Haha, you're quite something, despite being a kiddo," he chuckles, taking another sip from his coffee. "Since we've taken the liberty to already duplicate the entries of the journal, we won't be needing this." Antonucci slides the journal to Lucy, who doesn't bother to take it from the table.

"Suppose I knew something..." Lucy keeps her eyes on him, locking on with seriousness. "If I knew something, would I be put under arrest?"

He ponders on what to say, honestly a little stumped at the question. The girl expressed no visible fear, and that, to him, would prove to be problematic if his gut feeling was actually correct. "Hmmm," the quiet detective murmus, "No, under the circumstances, we wouldn't be able to hold you for that. Lest you forget, you're a minor anyways. But I would strongly advise that you not keep anything to yourself in such a situation."

She laughs with no emotion inside of her gloomy mind, certain that she had bested him in this first battle of many, which she didn't write out of the question.

"Well, I guess that's all for now. We are trying really hard to find your missing kids, so in the meantime," Antonucci sits up and makes his way to the exit. He opens the door and holds it. "Just try to get word around, and hope for the better."

Rita was fairly frustrated that there seemed no shed of bright light to show for them, or the other members of their big family. She is the first to dash out, and Lynn Sr. only follows to not stress and worry his dear wife. Little Lucy remains in place, in no rush to get out of the interrogation room.

The stone-faced detective developed some eerie chills when it felt like the strange goth girl was staring deep into his soul. "Okay, young lady, out you go. I have some very important business to attend to. Darn all this paperwork..."

"Sure thing..." She croaks out with her dark, soft voice, sending the detective further into the creeped out sensation worse than the heebie jeebies. Lucy finally takes her journal from the cold table and strodes calmly out. An unsuspecting gust of wind meets the detective's face as she does so, making him nearly jump from his spot.

The feeling that was there, the very one where he felt something was being hidden by her, and mixed with her dark personality, was only adding to his suspicion. "Hmmm... Tread carefully, little one," he whispers after a long moment of silence.

Lucy didn't need a snoop, or anyone closing in for that matter, on the big, dark truth behind the disappearance of the two older siblings everyone was on edge or worried about.

Would it make a difference that she told them the rest that she had uncovered, courtesy of Lynn's insanity? And how it wasn't marked down on the journal? She was extraordinarily grateful she chose not to in case the damn thing was ever found by the others, but she wasn't counting on Lynn to make a move of her own, which led to quite a mess.

She keeps quiet in the ride back home, unsure of whatever was gonna happen next. Of course, she'd have already anticipated Lori gathering the others for the inevitable emergency meeting with the topic of what went down at the station. At this point, everyone knew about the journal, which would return as the main question the meeting would bring about.

"Lucy, honey," Rita speaks. "Did..." She ponders back at the detective's words, now questioning what he was closely selling. "You did tell him everything, didn't you?"

The goth stares out, watching a piece of the world pass by her, minding its own business.

Somewhere out there, somewhere not too far away, were her two siblings, and one of them was her close roommate, whom she was beginning to miss. She didn't hear her mother calling out, wandering deep into a secret world where shadows and whispers were the most powerful things there. Lucy's thoughts echoes throughout, only hearing herself over and over.

She wasn't sure if she had to feel bad, because in truth, there was lack of empathy the others had no problem in expressing; she was guilty because she didn't feel guilty.

But, then, there was that thing about Lynn that she grew accustom to, and from that, she wasn't fully against playing keep-away.

"Lucy?" The concerned mother looks through the mirror and sees Lucy looking off into the distance, making her wonder what she was thinking about in that moment. "Honey?"

Three Weeks Earlier

"Honey?"

Lucy reads her recent poem that she had just finished writing. She, sitting alone in the kitchen, up until Lynn came in, finally raises her head and sees Lynn holding a jar of honey. "I said no, Lynn, I don't want a honey sandwich. And also, combining that with barbecue sauce is disgusting."

"Suit yourself, duchess," she shrugs. "Anyways..."

"What?" Lucy says bluntly.

"There's something I'd like to show you, if you're done with your moody poetry."

"I have no interest in another martial arts movie marathon," Lucy grunts.

"What? No, that's next week, but it's not that. Now..." Lynn prepares her own plate with the hybrid sandwich. She checks the time on her phone, and then takes Lucy by her hand.

"Hey, don't rip my arm off," the goth cries out, leaving her book in the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

Lynn leads her younger sister upstairs and into their room. "We have to be sneaky about this..."

"Sneaky? About what?"

Lynn points up to the vent opening, implying they were going in.

"We spying?" Lucy asks.

"Not spying, but witnessing," Lynn answers with a goofy smile. "Trust me, it's nothing bad."

Lynn helps Lucy up once she makes a jump on the edge and climbs in.

By the way it sounded to Lucy, she assumes it was possibly watching Luan tell herself jokes, or Leni writing in her diary, or even Luna trying out clothes- and ripping them. Not that she'd ever seen these before, but they were not of her concern or interest.

"What exactly is this? What are we watching?"

Lynn puts a finger to her lips, shushing the curious goth. She takes lead and begins crawling through the ventilation system. Lucy has no choice but to follow along in wonder.

Lynn stops right at Lincoln's room, recognized by Lucy.

"What are we doing here?"

Lynn peeps through the shaft, snickering ominously below. "Here, look," she taps softly on the shaft. "Check it out."

Below them, their only brother with a rare set of white hair, was shirtless and laying in bed. Something underneath the cover that concealed the lower half of his body up and down violently, and his face expression reads a totally different vibe that Lucy had never seen, not at this level at least. He was emitting sounds of pleasure as well.

"What- What is he doing?"

"Hehe," the athlete giggles, "It's called masturbation. He's thinking about something so..." She loses her words, and proceeds to bite her bottom lip.

"So what?"

"...D-Dreamy," Lynn answers shakily. Her face goes red as they continue to spectate this bizarre scenery Lincoln took part in.

"Master... What?" Lucy broke away from staring and noticed how intrigued and locked on to the show Lynn seemed to be. "I don't like this..."

"Well, I do. You can go away now..." Lynn tells her younger sister, still watching Lincoln fap with a joyous smile.

"Well, alright then..." Lucy crawls away slowly, and at that moment, she was a little creeped out that Lynn had probably been watching Lincoln for quite some time. Was she peeping on anyone else? If that was the case, why did she bother to indirectly imply that to Lucy? And why did she want to show this to her? What exactly was on Lynn's mind?

Lucy climbs down to her room and promptly exits to visit Lincoln. She knocks firmly, and hears a girly shriek that could only be his own. "Hang on one second!"

Lucy laughs with no smile, and out comes Lincoln, who hadn't placed his orange shirt correctly. The effort was painfully obvious. "I heard noises, are you okay?"

He stutters, looking back at his bed. "Oh, uh, yeah, I was uh... Just cleaning. Moving stuff around is a struggle, you know?"

"You should ask Lynn for help," Lucy answers. She laughs more higher in her dark mind.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess," Lincoln agrees. "Thanks."

Before Lincoln shuts the door, Lucy catches glimpse of Lynn's eyes peering through the shaft, with an alarmed and serious read.

Whatever was going on, this was the place and time it would begin slowly. And Lucy felt it, almost like a sixth sense, if she didn't have any.

AN: So, I'm now officially the fic-runner, taking over from Captain Darko's hands. Yes, this was passed down to me, and I'm hopeful I can do just as good a decent job as he has in his works. I'm letting the narrative maintain its present tense, which I've gotta say I find tricky, so there may be errors or something off around this fic, but I'll try it that way to not fully change what I've reread so far in the original source.

Anyhoo, happy 2018.