This is an AU set way after the show, close to 2113.
I also have to say, I used two big writing no: the exclamation points ("They're like teeth, you only want a few pulled"), and the quotations in italics.
Enjoy!
The rain created puddles in the gravel and overgrown grass. Stone walkways were cracked and weeds invaded. A rusted gate held by rotted pins, looked ready to crumble the minute it was touched. Beyond the gates stood a neglected castle. Paint chipped, windows were broken or boarded, and ugly green plants claimed the main entranceway. There was once intricate designs on the siding and roof, but it was now broken rubble. Gardens held dead, overgrown plants with rotting fruits and vegetables. The flowers, which probably thrived beautifully, now withered as the weeds claimed their nutrients; like a parasite would a host.
Lightning struck across the sky and thunder rolled as the grey clouds let more rain fall.
Hand in hand, a man and woman ran through the broken neglected town. Houses were collapsed in on themselves, walls which once protected the hospital and the Crawley house were piles of stone. Muddied shoes stomped through puddle after puddle as they approached the gates. The man pulled the woman into him for a kiss. The rain seemed not to bother the two as they stood in each other's arms. The roll of thunder made them jump apart. Giggling, the woman took the man's hand and dragged him carefully between the rusted, iron gates.
"This must be the entrance to the town!" The woman yelled above the rain and thunder. "We can follow this and possibly find someone on the main road!"
The man nodded. They continued the path as fast as they could. The woman sneezed and a shiver coursed through her body. The cold rain had matted her hair to her face. The wet tendrils hung in clumps around her delicate features and just dripped more water down her back which wasn't absorbed by her shirt because it was already soaked through. Her jeans were also soaked and mud was visible up to her knees.
She might be catching hypothermia, the man thought. He struggled to remember the symptoms and how to care for her. He shrugged off his jacket and placed it over their heads. Why he hadn't thought of this before was a mystery.
"Come on," the man encouraged. "I think I can see the road." The man could see something, but he doubted it was road. As they neared, he saw the old castle. With a goal insight, the man put forth a burst of sped. The woman was not prepared for this and stumbled on an exposed tree root. She fell with a faint thud and let out a string of curse words. The man immediately dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain the gravel created from the impact. The man helped her up and quickly examined her the best he could. Her knees and hands were bloodied and scratched.
"There's a castle up ahead! We can wait out the storm in there!" The man yelled. The woman nodded and gritted her teeth as the hail-like rain pounded against the wounds. Step after step, they made their way to the castle. The man pulled weeds from the door, not halting to the bugs and thorns. He hung his jacket over the woman's shoulders (which she gratefully pulled around her shivering form). The man produced a flashlight which showed him where the handle was. He turned the knob with such fragility, the woman thought the storm would end before the door opened. Once the crack was big enough for them to slip in, they did.
Other than the chipping paint, peeling wallpaper, and broken or boarded windows the house was still intact. The man sat the woman down in a green chair near a marble fireplace. Breaking two side tables, the man made quick with his hands and soon a roaring fire was brewing. The man moved the woman directly in front of the fire and kissed her temple. Gently he peeled soaked layer after soaked layer from her shivering body. He laid the clothes out over the fire.
He kissed temple once more before saying, "There has to be a bedroom with blankets somewhere, I'll be back." The woman nodded, too cold to argue. The man quickly ascended the grand staircase with caution. The house was old, caution would be the main thing. The flashlight showed wall after wall and finally, there came a door. The man opened the door and let out a sigh as he saw it to be a bedroom. Quickly, he pulled off the comforter and top sheet. He grabbed two pillows. There were moth holes everywhere, but it would be better than wet clothes. The man grabbed everything and was about to leave the room when some force stopped him. Suddenly, he felt sad and worried. The man turned back to the bed. He tried to gasp, scream, and run away. He couldn't do any.
A blueish-white transparent figure appeared on the bed as convulsion after convulsion racked through her body and made her back arch. More figures appeared around the foot of the bed. Three men were arguing but the man watching couldn't hear what they were saying. His eyes met the doctor's and suddenly, the man felt like he could've prevented the scene ing font of him. Sorrow filled the man. Someone was knelt next to the convulsing woman, her mother, the suspected. And the man telling her to breathe was probably her husband. The scene was quiet at first, then slowly the volume built.
"You have to help her!"
"Do something!"
"Breathe! Breathe, Sybil, breathe!"
As quickly and suddenly as the woman appeared moving, she stopped. People say that eyes are the pathway to the soul, and at that moment the man watching finally understood that. Sybil, the once convulsing woman laid pale and still. Her eyes were wide with terror, but love was also evident. Love for her siblings, parents, and husband. Suddenly the scene became deafly quiet. The mother was crying, sobs racking her body. The husband was teary-eyed starring like a lost puppy at his dead wife. The doctor's shoulders sank, suddenly the man watching felt like he knew this would happen. He felt like he had warned everyone and an "I told you so," hung on his lips. A small child's wail came from down the hall, and everyone glanced at the door. The man felt his own heart reach for the family. The daughter lost parents, wifeless husband, and motherless child.
The blueish-white figures disappeared; fading back to wherever they came from. The child's wails were the lsat to go.
Whatever force had kept the man still evaporated with the wails and the man gulped fresh air. Quickly, he left the room and hurried back down the stairs. He would care for the woman and leave when the storm passed. The figures would not alter that. He reached the wide platform stair and looked up at the woman. She was frozen in one spot, half standing half sitting, staring blankly at the blueish-white transparent figures, the same he had seen seconds ago. The family members seemed to be facing him and what could be servants had their backs towards him. The force held him again to the present scene. A young man and a woman walked throughout the entranceway. The woman who entered walked to the oldest member of the family line.
"What should we call each other?"
"Well," the older woman replied. "We could always start-" figures around the two slowly disappeared. "With Mrs. Crawley-" the woman who approached the older woman disappeared, but the older woman kept talking. "And Lady Grantham." Lady Grantham, the older woman, disappeared too.
The woman and man were released from the motionless hold. Simultaneously gulped the fresh air and looked at each other wide-eyed.
"What was that?" The woman asked as the man placed the blankets over he shoulders.
"No idea. But they don't seem to harm us, we'll leave the minute you're better and the storm is over," the man promised. The woman didn't argue she didn't want to go back out in that storm. The man sat the woman back down and took off his shirt and pants, placing them to dry next to the woman's clothes. He took two pillowcases. The first one he ripped three holes, one for his head and two for his arms. Immediately, he was warmer. The second pillow case, he broke two holes for his legs. He tied the pillowcase around his waist. His makeshift shorts and t-shirt were not too bad. Warmer than his wet clothes but the moth holes brought the cool air to his skin.
"I'm going to fins some food, hopefully, and water we can warm," the man announced making sure the woman was comfortable before he went on his search. There was a rather simple door against a back wall near the dinning room. The man assumed it lead down to the kitchen and he was correct. The flashlight showed the untouched kitchen. A bowl of dried something was waiting to be mixed,a filled kettle was on an old stove, and molded bread was in the oven. The man took hold of the kettle and the blueish-white transparent figures appeared again.
"Daisy!" A redhead plump cook called to the younger skiing one.
"Yes, Mrs. Patmore?" The young lady responded, not stopping her mixing.
"The bread needs to go in the oven or else it wont be ready in time," the cook told the cooking hand as she rotated between putting the finishing spices on a roast and stirring a stew. The figures disappeared and the man gulped in air. He was getting used to just watching the scenes. The man walked into what he assumed was the servants hall and was thrown into the motionless force. A big burly man, hair neatly pulled to the side and a full piece suit stood at the corner of the table. Besides him stood a little woman, hair piled immaculately out of her way. She wore a simple dress with a silver chain of keys attached to her belt.
The two seemed to be in deep conversation when all of a sudden they turned to face the man. They didn't seem to look directly at him but rather behind him. The man watching pivoted to see redish-white transparent figures appear through a door. They rushed into the servants hall, guns pointing at the two. The burly man in the suit pulled the little woman behind him, successfully hiding her from the redish-white figures. Angrily they kept thrusting their guns in the burly man's face. The man's hand blindly reached for the woman's. She placed her hand in his and leaned her back against his. She had a hand over her heart and she was mumbling something. First the man couldn't hear but then he could.
"… I have always loved you. I loved your care, your compassion, your faith, your worry with my cancer scare. You were always there for me, and I fell in love."
The burly man smiled sadly and whispered, "I love you, Elsie. I always have." The men with guns didn't seem to like that the two didn't seem to fear them. Slowly they closed around the couple. Two people on the burly man and two people on the little lady behind him. She clutched his hand as one shot tore through her small body. He clutched hers as one tore through his.
Her hand moved from her heart to the wound, she kept muttering, "I love you, Charlie. I love you, Charlie," in her own mantra as death slowly claimed her. Her mantra fell on deaf ears, for the burly man had slumped over. His shot had gone through his heart. She held his hand till the last breath she took. The redish-white figures went first, then the little woman, and finally the burly man.
The man observing wasn't real eased from his motionless hold until her heard, "I love you, Mrs. Hughes."
The observing man was released from his force and he gulped air. He couldn't get enough air, he couldn't breathe. He gasped and every time he did, he lost what little air his lungs had. He felt like someone had taken a vacuum to his mouth and wouldn't move it. The kettle slipped from his hands and spilled onto the floor, and his limp body followed.
xXx
Please review!
I might do another chapter, but that depends on what everyone thinks :)
