Disclaimer- I do not own the characters herein, but I do occasionally like to take them from Rob Thomas' toy box and allow them to participate in some minor adventures that my mind frequently conjures up.
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Part 1
'It's almost funny, in a morbid and perverse kind of way. My best friend dies- struck down (literally- on the head, with an ashtray) by a psychopathic celebrity after she threatens to out the illegal and illicit sexual relationship they had engaged in- and I gain a purpose in life. 'Discover Lilly's killer and destroy him or her utterly and completely' I think was how it went in my head. Of course, this is Neptune. Things never go according to plan.'
Too strong wind buffeted across the courtyard, whipping Veronica's long hair in all directions. A fly-away strand insinuated itself into her mouth and she tugged absently at it, looking around in some confusion.
'I found Lilly's killer, of course- said psychopathic-celebrity-statutory rapist; also the father of Lilly's then boyfriend, Logan Echolls. What I didn't count on was almost being killed in the process. That was unexpected.
Of course, so was falling in love with the aforementioned son.'
Her eyes lit on a small ornate sign that sat atop an equally ornate doorway. The sign read "Hester's Remedies- Mystic Cures For All That Ails". Coupled with the alley she'd had to traverse to find the shop, and the stormy weather that was currently hitting Neptune like a vengeful demon, Veronica felt as if she'd just walked straight into a Harry Potter book. Still, she had found the place. With a small smile that bespoke conquest, Veronica walked purposefully towards the door. She raised her hand to knock.
'Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Veronica Mars. I catch the bad guys.'
The door opened, revealing a small woman of indeterminate age. Her graying hair was held inadequately by a similarly graying handkerchief. Her eyes were small, beady, and bright. They peered at Veronica with intense suspicion. Her hands were gnarled, but strong looking, with knobby knuckles. They held the butt of a rifle snug against her shoulder. The barrel was pointed unwaveringly at Veronica.
Veronica's eyes went wide.
'Damn.
Okay, maybe I should have said 'the bad guys catch me'.
Veronica put her hands in the air, gave an uncertain smile, and stepped backwards. Unfortunately, her progress was considerably hampered by the press of a small round object into her back, mid-spine. She dropped her hands, and smiled sheepishly.
"Would you believe…trick or treat?"
Her only answer was a rough push from behind.
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Darkness pushed in at Veronica from all angles, suffocatingly dense, its very depth exuding a sinister air that was almost tangible. Her fingers strained, pulling against coarse rope; so, her wrists were bound. The concrete floor beneath her cheek felt gritty, grimy. A stale odor permeated the air, forcing its way into her nose, coating her tongue and cheeks when she, awake all at once, gasped in a shuddering breath.
Her arms trembled as she tried to maneuver them- using her right elbow as a clumsy sort of leverage, moving slowly and painfully into something resembling a kneeling position. A low keening echoed softly throughout the room and it took Veronica several moments to realize it was coming from her own mouth. She pressed her lips together determinedly and rocked back on her toes, using the momentum to force herself upward, into an upright position.
Her jacket caught and dragged against a coarse surface. Exhausted and terrified, Veronica sagged against it, breathing heavily and raggedly. Her temple throbbed; apparently she'd been struck. Her face felt swollen and lumpy, wrong somehow. Concentrating through the pain, because she was aware that it was most likely the least of her worries, Veronica twisted her wrists within their confines and managed to ghost her knuckles exploratorily over the surface upon which she rested. Rough, damp, chill, stone- a wall. She backed up against it, placing the sensitive pads of her fingers against the granite. Moving one foot after the other, she followed the wall, ignoring the pain in her head, driving the fear down into herself as far as it would go.
It was so dark.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Veronica's fingers met splintered wood. She pushed against it with her shoulder, met with unwavering resistance. She put her back once again against the wall and her fingers grasped blindly as, moving back and forth across the expanse of timber, knees bending and straightening at intervals, she searched for something resembling any sort of handle.
Her fingers closed over cold iron. She pulled, to no avail. A sob broke through her lips, unheeded. Straining forward on her toes she tried again, pulling the big door inwards with whatever strength she could muster. It budged not one bit. Fingers fumbling, Veronica felt for a latch of some kind. She met with nothing. The door was no doubt locked from the outside, which made every kind of sense, as no one in their right minds would kidnap someone and then throw them into a room they could escape quite easily from.
'Way to think on your toes, Mars.'
Veronica sighed and turned, leaning defeatedly against the coarse wooden door. Her face stung; had she been crying? It felt as if salt had encountered long scratches on her cheeks. When the hell had she been scratched? With a long, wet and dejected sniff, Veronica Mars decided it was decidedly best not to ask.
'Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes: the sordid affair between my best friend, Lilly, and the father of her adoring boyfriend. Oh, and we shouldn't forget the subsequent murder of said best friend, and, following directly, one Veronica Mars' quest for the truth. And also, yes, revenge.
Of course, when Aaron Echolls was finally destroyed, it wasn't by my hand. It was Duncan Kane, my ex-boyfriend and, more importantly, Lilly's brother. At least, I think it was. I haven't exactly spoken to him in a while.'
With another sigh, Veronica let her head tilt back against the wall, feeling strands of her hair become entangled with the splintered timber and caring not at all. What were a few follicles ripped from her scalp compared to the slow but persistent throb that encompassed her entire head?
She let her eyes drift closed as she furiously racked her brain for some other way to vacate her little prison. With just a sliver remaining between her eyelids, almost like an eclipse, Veronica saw something that made both eyes shoot wide open.
A small dusty window sat high on the stone wall, staring guilelessly back at her. A mere residue of light filtered halfheartedly through its filthy panes. Veronica grinned at it as relief so strong it nearly made her knees buckle coursed through her body.
She might just be able to get herself out of this yet.
