Disclamer: I don't own TNBC.
Things Not Known
Line kneeled before one of the headstones in the graveyard near the Spiral Hill, rubbing wax in the thin parchment paper taped to the headstone. Worn words began to appear through the layers of wax. Hook sighed, leaning back onto a large grave marker. He stared up at the dark sky, waiting for Line to finish messing around with her little hobby. Line paused, running her green hand over the name on the headstone. "How do you think we died, Hook?" She asked quietly.
Hook groaned as he moved to sit up, gazing over at his zombie friend, who was using her mask to carry the broken pieces of wax. "What makes you think we died?"
Line looked over at Hook, the young gremlin surprised at the intensity in the zombie's gaze. "How else could we get here? We weren't born here, we have no parents, we only remember meeting, being together, a trio." Line sighed, sitting up to look over the headstone to look at Sinker, who was running about, reading the grave markers and laughing at some of the strange names. "We were only six when Death took us."
Hook scowled, his sharp teeth showing slightly. "We did die, didn't we." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Sinker wandered over, and Line went back to rubbing the wax, Hook leaned back once more, the small scowl still on his face. Sinker glanced at his two, slightly shorter friends.
"What is going on?" he asked, his wide smile turning into an equally wide frown. He walked to Hook. "What were you talking about?"
Hook shrugged him off, "Nothing for you to worry your big head over…" Hook closed his eyes, to think quietly.
Sinker sighed, "Oh, okay," and muttered as he walked away, "I don't have a big head."
Line sighed as she continued scraping the wax across the paper. Hook looked at her, kneeling before the grave, her little green feet out of their shoes, toes digging into the muddy ground as she worked. "How do you think we died, really, Hook?" She asked him quietly.
Hook shook his head, before looking up to the stars again, "I don't know, I don't think we ever will." As the wax Line was using on the paper grew small and disappeared, she closed her eyes for a moment, pausing, hand still pressed against the paper.
"Sometimes…" Line began softly, almost a whisper, carried to Hook on the wind, "Sometimes, I feel this… thing in my chest… and it hurts, I think… Where my lungs used to be, it… it burns, Hook…" She looked up at him. "It burns and I don't know why…" Hook just gazed at her, before pulling his knees up to his chest and turning towards the stars.
"Every time I wake up, I feel something… some kind of tingling… only for a second. I don't think it's the same, but I still feel it." Hook whispered the last part, his face blank, midnight blue hair almost blending with the sky.
Sinker's voice spoke, startling the two children, as he sat on the other side of a grave, leaning back and gazing at a brightly shining star, "I feel it around my neck… it's so strange and familiar… the burning… the feeling like you're choking… like you're… dying…" The three children fell silent as they gazed, thinking to themselves.
Line reached up behind the gravestone to remove the tape and as soon as it was off, ghosts flew out of the graves, screeching and wailing, "Grave defilers! Evil children! Ruiners of our burial sites!" Line shrieked and stood, grabbing her paper, mask full of wax and her shoes, Hook and Sinker scampering ahead of her, as they raced away, the ghosts blowing about them like a vicious wind. The children shrieked as they ran, their screams mixing with the ghosts wails. Sinker stumbled as he ran, catching himself, the trio ran through the edge of the graveyard, the ghosts swirling up like they were caught in an upside-down fishbowl.
The children stopped and watched the ghosts swirling about, panting in their exertion. Line wiped her muddied feet on the cobblestone ground before putting her shoes back on with a sigh. Turning their backs to the grave yard, they walked down the cold street, alone.
The next day the three friends woke up in their makeshift home, which stood tall, if ragged. The dim, dusty windows letting in beautifully dirty rays of light. It came out of a cave on the outskirts of town, one of the many was to get in was walking on top of the hill and dropping down into the cave through a hole. It had many colors of wood, scavenged from breaking houses, ones that no one would notice if pieces were missing. As Line sat in her room, pulling her shoes onto her small feet, she stood up off her bed, made on top of an upside down coffin that the Vampire Brothers had thrown out after the hinge had broken. It kept its black shine, and Line had liked it and it was large enough to accommodate her small mattress.
Line walked across her room and took up her wax rubbing from the night before and hung it on the wall with a tack, over one of the many others that covered her room like wallpaper, names and dates scattered on every wall. Line sighed and turned on her heel and walked out of her room through the mismatched door, really two doors put together. She went down the stairs, jumping over missing planks, then reaching the end of the stairs, strode to a door, knocking on it, before opening it, "Hook?" She peered into the dark room. The light from the outside hall lit the room through the crack in the door, showing the messily painted stars, which filled the room, accompanied by a large crescent moon in the corner; a makeshift desk Hook had put together himself beneath it. Despite all this, Hook was nowhere to be seen.
Line sighed and shut the door. She walked to the other side of the level and pulled a cord and a metal square platform came up through the floor, made of crushed soda cans. She stepped on it and pulled the cord once, and began moving downward, but the platform stuck, squeaking as it tried to move. Line stomped on it with a groan and it began to move again. She walked into the kitchen when she got off, and looked at Hook, who was abnormally up before she was. He was stirring hot chocolate with a lollipop, looking tired, and the tips of his pointed hair were drooping slightly. Sinker was standing, leaning against the fridge, silently eating a crab apple. "Long night?" Line asked Hook, taking a seat at the old wooden table.
Hook looked from his hot chocolate to the surface of the table, gazing absently at the circular burn marks in the table, where the previous owner had put out cigarettes. "I couldn't sleep last night…" Sinker swallowed the bite of his apple.
"Neither could I…" He said quietly. Line sunk in her seat, head on the table. "Aren't you going to eat?" Sinker asked her.
"I don't feel like it…" Line replied quietly. There was a silence for a few minutes, as Sinker took another bite of apple, chewing it, the silence was loud, deafening. "Argh! That's it!" Line yelled, slamming her fist on the table. "We can't just sit around, wondering what happened. We are going to the human world and we will find out how we died!" Hook and Sinker gasped, taken aback.
"Line, are you sure about this? We'd be breaking the biggest law this town has!" Hook said to her, dropping the lollipop into his slightly chilled hot chocolate.
Sinker nodded, "Yeah, we're only allowed to leave on Halloween!"
"Of course I'm sure! It's not like we haven't broken big rules before, right?" She reasoned with them. The two young boys glanced at one another, worry in their eyes, before looking back at her.
"Yeah, I guess." Hook said, fumbling with the edge of his blue shirt.
Line grinned and went up behind Hook, pulling the tips of his pointed hair back into place. "Then let's do this!"
The two boys grinned, "Yeah!" With that, the trio began to gather up some things, readying for their departure.
Hook, Line and Sinker walked up to the graveyard, towards the mausoleum with the gargoyle on top, which stood in the center of the graveyard. Line gazed up at the stone creature towering over them, before turning back to Hook and Sinker. "This is where we go our separate ways…" Line said quietly. They had always been together for as long as she could remember.
Hook rubbed his ankles together anxiously. "This is it." He said and Sinker nodded quietly. Hook held out his hand, but was shocked when Line ignored it and gave him a hug. Sinker smiled a small smile and hugged his two friends as well. When they separated, they smiled at one another.
Line opened the mausoleum door and said, "Remember, don't come back until you find out what happened. And guys," The two boys looked at her, "It's been great." Then, Line stepped into the mausoleum, the door shutting behind her and she was gone. There was a silence, as what happened sunk in.
"She's gone." Hook said quietly, turning to Sinker, Sinker looked at Hook, and then gave him a smile.
"Hey," He said, and Hook looked at him. Sinker held out his hand, the two boys shook hands, "It's been real." Sinker said, before opening the door and stepping into the blackness, the door shutting behind him.
And then there was one. Hook, eight years old, stood alone in the dark graveyard. He turned away from the mausoleum for a moment, looking towards the town that had been his home ever since he could remember. "Goodbye." He whispered to the wind, and he turned back, opening the door and disappearing through the gateway.
