First to say - I don't own anything and all rights go to Jonathan Stroud. Second - English is not my mother tongue so please no hate if you find any grammar mistakes - I will try to fix them if I see them. As for the story - it is something that came to mind after I read the book. :) Hope you enjoy.
The house was quiet. George and Lockwood were already sleeping and each dreamt of his own imagined world. Lucy however couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned but sleep just would not come. Something was bothering her. It had been a week since they had solved the Annie Ward case but Lucy had the feeling that there was still a tiny detail missing. As if the puzzle was left unfinished even though the murderer was punished for his deed.
"I am forgetting something." murmured Lucy before she turned again.
"Or someone…" said a quiet voice.
Lucy shot up in an instant. She looked around frantically looking for the source but there was nothing there. She tried to listened but the only noise that she heard was the faint whisper of the wind that blew gently outside. It took her a few minutes to calm down, eventually Lucy decided that her mind was playing tricks on her and that there was no reason to freak out. She made another attempt to fall asleep and this time she had luck because she soon drifted off.
"I hope everyone got enough sleep last night" said Lockwood the next morning as he strolled grinning in the kitchen.
George made a noise that sounded like he was confirming, Lucy just nodded although she didn't quite feel well rested.
"Wonderful! Because I just got a call from a potential client – a Mister Berking, and I have a feeling it's going to be good! " Lockwood looked way too excited for Lucy's taste, which was rather unusual because the prospect of a job always excited her.
Lucy spent the whole day feeling tired and nervous. The meeting with Mr. Berking went well – they got the job and George even managed to make a fast research about the case. He had a theory that the Visitor, haunting Mr. Berking's house, was a weak Type One – at least that is what he concluded after analyzing their clients complains. Lockwood decided that that was enough information to organize the operation that very day and be done with it as fast as possible.
"Why not tomorrow night? We still don't know anything about the house and a few theories of what we might find there. "Might" being the keyword here!" Lucy didn't feel in shape to battle any ghosts at the moment, of course there was no chance in hell she was going to admit that out load.
"Because it's a simple job – there is no need to postpone the matter. And since when did you start to care so much about the research part of the job? " Lockwood was already packing the necessary equipment in the kitchen, while George was drawing a map of the house and marking key spots.
"How do you know it's going to be simple? And for the record even though I don't find it fun and interesting, I believe that research is more than important!" Lucy heard a sarcastic t laugh from George which she ignored – it wasn't the time nor the place to start a quarrel with her colleague even though he was just begging for it.
"If you are not feeling up for the challenge than you can sit this one out. I am sure that George and I can handle the problem alone." Lockwood raised his eyebrows teasingly. Lucy huffed in annoyance and murmured something about stubbornness before she walked out of the room to get ready.
She stopped in the middle of the corridor after she heard a soft snickering. She turned fast, weapon ready, but there was nothing. She tried to listen but all was quiet. Lucy sighed headed for her room to get her bag – she had a bad feeling about the whole case but no matter what happened she was not going to leave her friends alone…even if one of them was always trying to start a fight…or try to scare her with "Mister Picklehead" also known as the ghost in the jar. Lucy smiled to herself – the name "Mister Picklehead" was her own invention and was the result of an afternoon spent reading in the library in the presence of a grinning ghostly face in a jar, staring at her and making creepy faces. In the end she had gotten so fed up that she had thrown her book and gone looking for the cover for the jar while cursing the stupid creeper.
"Let's see how you are going to bother me now Picklehead!" she had said smugly when she had tried to cover him. She wasn't sure if he had really heard her or read her lips but the face of complete insult that he had made made her laugh for hours. After that accident the name had stuck. Her colleagues of course had no idea why she always smiled when she saw the jar, but Lucy didn't want to share her joke with them for the time being. It felt like it belonged to her only, a harmless secret that made her day better and always got her to smile when she needed it …of course the look of distrust that the ghostly face often gave her also helped.
Mr. Berking's house was located in the outskirts of London and looked like something taken out of a cheap horror movie made by a crazy painter. It was old and scary in a very cheesy way – a big half brick half wooden building with big windows that desperately needed a wash and a ridiculously big chimney that seemed so out of place on the incredibly steep roof. The true colors of the paint had long faded with time but they still indicated that they did not match well with one another. The front porch squeaked as the three agents walked towards the door.
"Ok, really?" George did not seem to be very impressed. "What's next? A rain storm with a lot of lightning? Maybe a shadow behind the window for a more dramatic entrance?"
Lockwood just chuckled and opened the door which surprisingly did not make a sound as it opened.
"We should enter and set up, the sun will set soon." He said as he walked with confidence inside, followed by George and a very nervous Lucy, who felt someone watching her – the feeling that something was weird had grown stronger in the last few hours.
They set up their equipment in the kitchen where everything felt calm and the temperature was not indicating the presence of an evil presence or the possible arrival of such, unlike the creepy feeling that they felt oozing from one of the rooms they had passed by on their way.
"Do you ever notice that the kitchen is usually the place where rarely any ghost reside?" asked Lucy while preparing their traditional cup of tea before the hunt.
"Well, Lucy, that's probably because people rarely get killed in here." supposed Lockwood as he pulled out a few salt bombs from the bag to inspect.
"Somehow I doubt that…"remarked Lucy.
"Well I certainly can tell you that I have so far never heard of a husband getting shot while doing the dishes so my theory does have its reality backup." They all laughed at that and then sat down to drink their tea.
"So Mr. Berking inherited this house, huh…"started Lockwood looking at the old ceiling "No wonder he wants to sell it as fast as possible – this place is a wreck and is going to need a lot more that some fresh paint to look at least presentable let alone safe enough to live in."
"He said that his old aunt used to live here until she died last week of a heart attack. I can't imagine living here alone." George said as he took a cookie from the plate.
"Do you think it's her spirit haunting the house? I mean Mr. Berking said he only spent two hours in here before he freaked out and left. I mean – what if he is only imagining things?" asked Lucy hoping she was right and at the same time knowing she was only lying to herself.
"What about that room we passed by? The one with the green door? It didn't feel right. I felt a chill coming from there, which I don't feel in here." George was right and Lucy knew it…which did not mean that she was happy – that is…George being right yet again…and the uneasy feeling of course.
They got ready and the night began. They searched the whole house where they didn't find anything except old objects and a neglected library which in their opinion was a serious crime…Everything was however quiet and the rooms were warm and filled with dust instead of Visitors.
"No dropping temperatures so far." announced George.
"Well I guess it's time to go to that room with the green door because so far I have not felt nor seen anything. Lucy?"
Lucy closed her eyes one more time and tried to concentrate but there was nothing to hear. She shook her head and prepared herself mentally for what awaited them in that room.
The door was old and green. There was a strange chill coming from it and a rather uncomfortable presence lingered in the air which wasn't present in the other rooms.
''How is it possible if there is a ghost in there to only remain inside without affecting the rest of the house?" wondered George after he announced the low temperature.
"Iron" came Lockwood's reply as he studied the door.
"What?"
"Iron – the frame is made of iron – it seems that it is keeping the Visitor inside."
"Like…a ghost prison?" Lucy was shocked.
"Apparently this aunt knew a lot more about ghost than we thought. Mr. Berking said she was a collector what if she bought something with a ghost attached to it and the when she found out – decided to keep it." Lockwood seemed thrilled as he spoke, that fire of excitement that scared and agitated Lucy at the same time, burned fiercely in his eyes. "Let's find out if I am right!"
Before Lucy or George could say anything Lockwood opened the door with one swift movement and was met by a deafening silence. Lucy ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton but she felt how the presence in the room stilled itself as if it was waiting to see what these three disturbers of its peace will do. Lockwood scanned the view looking for a trace of the ghost.
"Its in here. As is the Source!" he announced and turned his perfect smile towards his team.
"DUCK!" screamed George and pulled both of his colleagueson the ground as a small but heavy coffee table flew over their heads.
"I'm gonna take a wild guess over here and suppose that our ghost is a poltergeist?" said Lucy whose ears had been freed from the vacuum feeling and were now filled with the screaming of a ghost gone wild. "And he is not happy!"
"No kidding!" said George as he dodged a flying vase. "And we are not even I the room!"
"We should find the Source and seal it!"screamed Lockwood as he frantically looked around the room, now filled with flying objects.
All of a sudden his eyes set on a small music box not far from the door, which was still standing on the small cupboard where it was left.
""The SOURCE!" Lockwood yelled and pointed at it.
Lucy nodded and got ready to cover Lockwood so he could seal it while George was securing the door to remain open…
"Its done!" announced a little out of breath Lockwood as he looked at the sealed music box.
Lucy nearly fell on the floor with relief, she had tried to shield her boss from the flying objects as best she could and almost got herself hit twice with a very heavy picture frame.
"I am so not getting paid enough for this…"she thought jokingly as she gazed at a spot above her head where she saw a peace of wood sticking out of the wall. "How did I not get hit by that? It was going straight at me?" she wondered but then just dismissed it as something to wonder about after.
"Wait. There is still something missing." panted George as he staggered towards the Source to look at it. "If this poltergeist was locked up in here then how did Mr. Berking notice the menacing presence he described feeling in the corridor and during the day – it doesn't make any sense."
"Well maybe he just lied to us" said Lockwood lost in thought.
Lucy felt it more that saw it – the form of an old woman appearing slowly out of nowhere behind Lockwood. Her white hear hung in front of her face concealing it but she heard clearly her heavy and cold voice as she said "my house". Her pale greenish hand with long dirty nails reached out to touch Lockwood. Lucy knew what to do long before George screamed his friend to turn around. She pulled out her rapier and flung herself towards the apparition. She tried to strike but before she could do it the ghost moved fast and found itself right before her, Lockwood and George were thrown backwards and away from them. Lucy saw as if in slow motion how the dead hand touched her hand right as she was making a move to cut through it. All of a sudden the ghost flew away from her as if it was being dragged by the neck. Before she could realize what was happening Lockwood was already in front of her ready to attack the ghost and George was by her side trying to get her out. Lucy felt a sharp pain in the head and then everything went black.
"Oh, my head!" murmured Lucy as she regained conscience.
She noted that she was in a white room…no, not just a white room – a hospital white room. Her head felt heavy and pulsed with pain.
"Lucy, how are you feeling?" Lockwood's voice reached her and she tried to sit up so she could see him. "No, no. Don't get up! We'll come to you."
Both he and George sat down on her bed looking at her with worried eyes.
"This is going to sound like a cliché in situations like these but – What happened?" – she asked as she touched her forehead.
"Well you got hit by a vase on the head." said George then gave her a half smile. "That ghost had a better aim than the poltergeist which I personally find very ironic."
"That ghost…where did it come from?" Lucy cringed at the memory of the Visitor.
"Well. It seems our client was lying about some things." began Lockwood as he stared out the window next to her bed. "His aunt apparently was obsessed with ghosts and as I guessed she bought the haunted music box and kept it by making her own ghost prison. What Mr. Berking neglected to mention was that one night she got too curious and went to see the ghost and…well she got herself killed. They found her body in that room the next morning and that is where our client felt this "menacing presence" he spoke of. Her Source was a small picture of her long dead puddle we found right after you got knocked out. We sealed it and everything was set right."
"Mr. Berking is currently being questioned by DEPRAC about withholding vital information from us." added George who also seemed to find the view through the window very interesting.
"But that is not so important!" Lockwood met her eyes this time and leaned forward to study her which made Lucy feel a little nervous. "How are you feeling, Luce?"
"Ok I guess apart from the head but I am sure it will stop hurting so much soon." She responded unable to pull her gaze away from his searching eyes.
"Mhmh. I mean about the Ghost – touch."
"I was touched?" Lucy's eyes grew wide as images from last night came rushing back to her – the greenish hand touching hers and then the Visitor being thrown away.
"No. The doctors found no traces but I know I saw her touch you!" Lockwood was now even more close to her face, staring at her as if he expected the answer to pop up on her forehead.
"She didn't, she missed." She lied without knowing why, it felt like this was something that concerned her and only her.
Lockwood pulled away but his face showed he didn't believe her but that was prepared to let it go for now.
"When she…tried to touch me, she flew all of a sudden backwards. Did you see it?" Lucy still remembered how she almost felt the ghost's shock, like it hadn't expected such a thing to happen.
Lockwood and George nodded but gave no answer – as it turned out, they also had no idea what had happened then.
"Well after we have determined that no one know anything, when can I go home? " asked Lucy in a cheerful voice hoping it was soon.
Two hours later Lucy was lying in her own bed…well Lockwood's old childhood bed…back at their place. It was already night, obviously she had spent the whole day at the hospital unconscious. Her friends had also gone to bed and the house was all quiet. She couldn't sleep, she felt rather well rested and the thoughts were running wild in her head. What had happened? How could she not have gotten ghost- touched? Why did the ghost fly way from her?
"Nothing makes sense!" she said in frustration.
"Well, maybe I can clear a few things up, I mean – I was the one that dragged that old hag away from you." said a familiar female voice.
Lucy's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as she saw the form of Annie Ward appear sitting casually at the end of her bed. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came from there.
"It was the least I could do after you freed me and allowed me to avenge myself" she smiled warmly at her, her voice so different from before – sweet and somehow arrogant and playful at the same time.
"I did not expect this…" was all Lucy managed to say before she fainted…it was a stressful day after all, who could blame her…