'I should ask him to double my pay!' She contemplated the idea but knew first hand the odds of that happening were as easy as winning the lottery 10 times in a row. Once a deal was made there was no turning back on it, the effect it would have on future jobs was the least of her problems. Still she wondered if she shouldn't jack up her prices to include the emotional and wardrobe trauma suffered due to swims in dank, smelly caves. The air inside the suit was stifling and suffocating, clinging to her like a sweaty, oppressive skin.
Thick tendrils of moss, cob webs and unidentifiable creatures hung from the ceiling, ganging for her but she didn't want to think about that. Wrinkling her nose as the stench of the rotting, damp cave seeped through the mask and clotted in her throat.
Even as she worked her body, she mentally counted how many baths she would need to rid herself of the awful stench but the main aim was to distract herself from the filth her body was crawling on and sinking into. She was a professional through and through and she could just about tolerant anything but this was too disgusting. The sea sloths whose nest she was currently residing in were vegetarians of course but it was common knowledge that they didn't follow the policy, "You don't shit where you eat!"
So here she was on a beautiful summer day bathing in muck instead of drinking sherry and relaxing in a hot tub. There was a strong, incessant urge to spit in disgust but her lips were currently clenched shut to keep the stale air out. A sudden glimmer caught her eye and she was confronted with the source of her troubles. The blue gem was half buried in what appeared to be a mould of reddish brown crap. She really didn't want to dwell further on her discovery so she quickly snatched the gem from the mess, the journey out of the cave ending faster then the entry. Soon she could rip off the mask and breathe in the fresh beach air, enjoying the salty sweetness at the pit of her stomach sending delicious shivers to the rest of her body. 'I' am glad that's over! '
Her fingers quickly dispensed of all the muck she could from her suit before peeling it off her body, being extremely careful not to let a pinch touch her fair skin. When her body was finally free of the soiled jumpsuit, she threw it into the bushes where it settled among the branches. The morning chill bathed her skin in a light, comforting dew, after the suffocating warmth of the protective gear.
Picking up a nearby backpack, she withdrew a sweat shirt and pair of jeans. Dressed into them and stretched, relieving the tension in her muscles that were the result of the prolonged period in the closeted space. A sigh of satisfaction escaping her lips as she made her way back to the hotel.
"Yes, Jeremy I have retrieved your little gem. So when can I expect payment for the merchandise!"
"You got the green gem!" He asked. He was doing his best to restrain his excitement but it was practically spilling over the phone. A shudder of anticipation ran down her body as thoughts of the reward money filled her mind.
"Green, it is a little blue gem that..what do you mean it is the wrong one! You said the gem would be found with the bones of his family!"
"If you bothered to do a little extra research you would have found out that the family missed the fatale ship at the last minute and therefore had not shared the fate of the crew!" The excitement had drained from his voice faster than open sink and a sinister and portentous quality creeped into his voice. "Get me the RED GEM..BELLA…THE RED GEM..AND WITH NO EXTRA COST OR ELSE!" A retaliation hung on her lips when a dead signal resounded in her ear. Letting out her frustration in a low growl she tossed the gem into the cupboard and grabbed her jacket.
Night was setting in; the sky was a reddish, yellow tint around the red rim of the sun. When she arrived at the destination the depilated, old house was only an outline against the darkness. She remembered passing it while on her way to the cave and even then it had sent a shiver down her spine. The house was giving off a creepy vibe and it wasn't because it was desolate, broken down and in a secluded part of the forest with the nearest town miles away. She parked her car close to the house but far enough so any ghosts lurking about wouldn't be offended, thinking she was violating their personal space. 'Honestly you would think being dead would make them less sensitive and less whiny!'
Stalked towards the door, her high heeled shoes crunching leaves beneath her. Standing at the entrance of the rotting porch of the house, a pistol and a flashlight ready in her proficient fingers. As she crossed the threshold, the wood groaned under her weight, ignoring the sound her hand instinctively tightened on the handle that was unusually cool and metallic.
The torch shone a circle of light on the rundown wooden floor, caked with layer of dust. The dust was everywhere, on the ceiling, the doors, the windows, on the leftovers of the broken down furniture. Keeping the gun in front of her, she stepped slowly across the room. The floorboards creaked under her weight but the sound was minuscule in her ears, she was listening for something else, the ominous resonance that accompanied the arrival of tormented spirits. Despite being dead, they had ways of making their presence felt among the living...ways that were often deadly. 'Seven students were found dead at the Montgomery house! Abandoned since 1678 it is rumored to be haunted by the captain who was lost at sea following a violent storm!' Hermind replayed the news report she rd from last months article, she knew for a fact that it wasn't a simple coincidence that the house became active during the anniversary of his death.
Her eyes scanned the dank room, constructing a detailed account of everything that was visible; it helped in her line of work. A movement of shadow caught her eye and she turned in time to face an open doorway. It swung silently on its hinges, opening to another room that was visible by moon light threading through the haze of grime.
Adrenalin trickled into her blood stream, hot and heavy. 'I can only guess I'm not alone!' Tiptoeing to the edge, she shone a light into the darkened room revealing a portrait hanging over a mantle place. 'Kudos to me!' She thought with a small smirk. Keeping the gun in front of her, she walked toward the portrait, all the while her eyes took in the surroundings. 'Too easy! I really should be worried!'
One final glance around her and then she began her job of retrieving the gem. From the notes, she figured it would be behind the portrait of the family, in a special safe. She removed the huge picture and dumped it on the dusty floor. "Damn it!" She cursed under her breath. Besides a layer of mildew, there was nothing else. An irritated sigh escaped her lips. 'Perfect! Now I have to search the whole bloody place for-"
Agitated, her foot gave the picture a slight kick. Her eyes fell on the backside of it that her flashlight illuminated in a round circle and then an idea dawned. She reached forward and flipped the painting over, wincing at the coat of dust on her finger tips.
Bending over, she snatched the knife from her back pocket and raised it above the faint outline of the Wilson family. The knife dipped in a downward arc, slicing the painting open with a small rip. Her eager hands dug into the gaping opening, snatching greedily at air till they enclosed around a hard oval object. Chuckling deeply with a self satisfied air, she withdrew it from its hiding place and quickly unwrapped it, tearing at its covering. Finally in the silvery moonlight that penetrated the dusty window, she saw a glint of red. Still smiling to herself, she pocketed her prize and standing up, began to walk out. 'Easiest money I have ever made! Maybe I'll treat myself to a dip in the Jacuzzi!'
The door was a few meters in front of her; soon she would be leaving the ramshackled mansion behind her and enjoying a day at the spa. A delicious tingle ran down her spine just thinking about it. Halfway across the hall, something dropped on to her shoulder, heavy and wet that her instincts screamed for her not to ignore. Her reflexes acted out, jerking the gun to the ceiling and firing two shots. They pierced the fleshy head of the creature whose dark, blood thirsty eyes bore into hers even as thick, black fluid flowed in a steady stream. Luckily she jumped backwards just as the blood splattered on the floor soon followed by the body with a reverberating crash.
Her gun stayed on its target whose ugliness was amplified by the glaring light of the torch. Its skin was a dirty, murky grey that stretched taunt over its lean and malleable frame. From its back she could distinguish leathery wings poking out, they were at least 40 feet long. Bella found her eyes being drawn to its face and the holes that gleamed like small quarters, dead eyes sunk into its sockets and a small slit for its nose. Bits of dirt and cobwebs, which it must have gathered from the ceiling, clung to its weathered face like accessories. She kicked it with the tip of her boot and detachedly, watches it shift slightly, and then remain still. 'Good! It's dead! This place is probably its nest! Better to leave than stay for a house welcome!'
Her feet moved briskly around the corpse to the exit that occupied her attention and movements. "Stop!" a voice yelled. It echoed in the chasm of silence sending her senses on high alert. She spun around and aimed her gun at the source, it was cocked and ready. Even in the dim light she could discern the girl's features that separated her from everybody else in her memory. The image was hard to forget and Bella doubted she ever would, a pretty blond girl staring up at her with the most beautiful liquid, baby blue eyes that were filled with such innocence it had caused a pang of envy. "Clarissa!" The name tore itself from its lips mixed with shock and surprise.
"Bella, Get down!" She screamed. Bella instinctively hit the floor as a bullet whizzed above her, then the air was filled with a strange cackling, snapping scream. Bella glanced behind her and saw another creature, it had its head tilted back and its Adam apple bobbed as its bawl pierced the foul, cold air. Bella jerked to her feet and ran to Clarissa's side, "What are these things?" She demanded, eyeing the two fallen bodies in front of them over the barrel of her gun.
"Harpies! We are in their nest-"
"So there are more of these bloody things!"
"No, I just finished off the welcoming committee and….don't tell me you were the guest of honor!"
Bella tucked the weapon into her purse and chuckled with a tad humor, "No, this is one party I did not mind missing!"
She tilted her head and regarded her with twinkling eyes, "Out of touch!"
"Better than ever!" Bella smirked boastfully; her green eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Suddenly, Clarissa lurched forward and enveloped the brunette in a tight hug. "I missed you!" Her hoarse whisper grazed Bella's ear, a small shiver ran down her spine. Bella brushed a clammy cheek against hers, then muttered softly, "Me too!"
"Now we are investigating weddings?"
"Yes, in the last month 4 brides have gone missing..just vanished from their dressing room!"
"Are you sure its supernatural..maybe it is just the grooms!"
"There doesn't seem to be any connection; there were different grooms, different locations, different states-"
"Hey Sammy, You don't think it could be the caterers, I mean because this escargot is awesome!" Dean stuffed another piece into his mouth, chewing earnestly. Sam glanced around the room but kept his eyes on the small group at the center. A haggard looking man wearing expensive tux was talking animatedly to a group of stern faced officers, fervent apprehension flashing regularly on his face. Finally, they walked away leaving the man alone, slumped on a chair, his head in his hands. Sam approached him, wearing a sympathetic expression, Dean followed behind him munching happily on his pickings from the feast. "Mr. Crawford!"
The man looked up; anxiety darkened the lines of his face and under his eyes. "Yes!"
"Hi, I'm Agent Scott Weiland and this is my partner Matt Sorum-"
"Wait!" He interrupted them, "Aren't those the members of the band 'Velvet revolver'!"
Sam inwardly winced; they really needed to come up with names before the actual questioning instead of borrowing those of 'Rock legends' ,anyway it wasn't like it was his fault.
"Our children!"
"Wait, you have kids!" Sam asked, "but you're getting married-". "Geez Sam ! Aren't you a little old fashioned!" Dean commented, an amused smirk dancing across his features. Sam cleared his throat, an embarrassed color to his cheeks "No, we don't have kids..yet! And when we did we were going to name them after Scott and Matt because-we are both huge rock fans!" "Cool that was what our parents had in mind!" Dean smirk widened, nudging his brother. " Guess great minds think alike!"
Sam smiled courteously, and then jumped in with a quick question "Any idea where your wife could have gone!"
He laughed under his breath, a dull, empty sound that sounded almost rueful, "You know how many people have been asking me that question!" He ran a hand raggedly through his blond hair. "I wish I could tell them but all I can say is that she was just as excited as me at the prospect of becoming man and wife!" He looked up at them with aggrieved, watery eyes that conveyed the extent of his suffering.
"It is such a pity- it would have been such a beautiful wedding! They got the best of everything, the best caterer, the best wedding planner!" A young woman twittered to her friend. "uh excuse me! You wouldn't happen to know who was their wedding planner!" Sam inquired politely, his hazel eyes held special charm that entranced the ladies. They smiled sweetly at him, "oh, Are you and your boyfriend preparing for the big day!" She giggled playfully, stealing a look at Dean standing behind him. Sam's eyes widened in horror that the ladies would conceive such an idea. He always felt self conscious when someone referred to his brother and him as a couple. "uh, We are not really-"
"Yeah,!" Dean chimed in with a huge smile on his face, "He got the ring and everything! A real big diamond that cost him a pretty bundle! AY Sammy !" He wrapped an arm around his brother, smiling delightfully at the ladies who stared adoringly at them for all the wrong reasons. "Course, I'm worth it!" Sam felt his stomach cramp just as it had when Dean slapped his behind but the smile remained frozen on his face like a Barbie doll.
"You sure are!" The brunette agreed. Her blue eyes examined Dean appraisingly, with an impish grin tilting her lips. Dean characteristic, charismatic smile never failed to captivate a pretty girl or a group of middle-aged women, "We just want our perfect day to be as special as it can possible be!"
He squeezed his taller brother, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, silently prodding him on. Sam immediately received the hint, "So anyway! Can you give us the address and number of the wedding coordinator?" Instinctively, one of their faces darkened clearly as she advised them with a simple, considerate smile, "I'm not sure that would be a good idea! In my opinion they are only the best in the local district!" The other two shake their heads with mild annoyance across their face, "Try them out for yourselves and then make a decision! But personally the last three weddings the company conducted ended with the disappearance of the brides! I'm not sure if it's running bad luck or just a sign of our times!" A lighthearted wink and the other two women joined in with girlish giggles while Sam and Dean just smiled politely though the fact it was forced and a little worried was overlooked.
"Here it is, 'Franco's wedding coordinator!" Sam slowed the car to a stop in front a beautiful large building with a giant placard announcing the business. Underneath the giant name, in a small golden cursive were the words, 'We coordinate your fantasies!'
"Unless the fantasy includes Sienna miller and can of whipped cream, I'm really not interested!" The man chuckled to himself as the thoughts filled his head, gleaming with a wicked cheerfulness.
Sam ignored his brother's dreams because he had heard them all and Dean didn't really expect a response from him cause they usually swam in his head until Sam decided to bring him back to reality.
"Come on, Sammy!" Dean commanded in a mock-irritated tone, mimicking a harried housewife, "I want to look at flower arrangements and while we are at it-"
"Let's just say we are reporters researching a story!" Sam told him firmly, swiftly snatching their ID's from the glove compartment, eying his brother with distaste. Dean conjured an expression of abject horror and shock, "You're leaving me!" He mourned theatrically. Sam was not amused because the image of Spender's agonized torn face haunted him and served as a reminder for what was at stake.
"Excuse me!" Sam politely addressed the receptionist, "We're reporters with the weekly world news!" Dean suppressed a snigger as the name bought back memories; he received a quick jab in the ribs. "We're writing an article concerning -"
A women slid next to Sam, placing a piece of paper on the desk and promptly cut him off, "Greta, Could you please run these errands for me! I'm going to need them by the end of the day!" She commanded in a mellifluous, sultry voice. "I'm sorry, Miss Ashford ! But I'm kind of busy!" The receptionist responded apologetically, creases appearing in the corner of her eyes.
Miss Ashford clicked her tongue in a disapproving sound and responded a bit snidely, "Unless you have an appointment to fix that disaster on your head, I honestly don't believe you will be that busy!" With that , she turned on heels and sauntered away. The receptionist wasn't that pretty but she looked presentable and pleasant. Moreover, Sam as a man couldn't find anything wrong with her current hairstyle yet he was forced to run after the woman after the receptionist named her as the assistant manager. "Excuse me!" Sam followed her, halting her brisk pace. "This is my associate Dean! We are with the weekly world news and are working on a story involving-"
"No!" She cut him off rapidly, regarding them with cool cobalt eyes and a stern set of her lips.
"No!" Sam repeated, staring at her a little confused.
"No!" She repeated with the barest hint of a smile, her eyes moving appraisingly "There is no way any newspaper would allow their reporters to go out in those tacky suits!"
"Budget cuts!" Dean said, adopting a defensive stance, "We are just asking for a few minutes of your time! Trust me we have better things to do than visit some third rate wedding coordinator!"
There some familiarity about her that troubled him, moreover her apparent snootiness was wearing down his patience. He had a prejudice against people who thought they were above the rest, bought on by years of experience.
She passed a cold look down her nose, "Apparently those budget cuts are doing more than just cramping your style! What are they limiting the access to information!" They stared down each other with tension brimming below the surface, arching their eyebrows.
"Anyway did you know the Crawfords!" San inquired, changing to the topic at hand, clearing his throat.
Her voice was laced with a British accent and by Dean's evaluation; she was a classy chick and every inch of her screamed money, maybe she thought that entitled her to act like a bitch but it was grating his nerves.
"Three months and that's how long it took to plan their wedding and what a fiasco it turned out to be!" Sam thought she was referring to the disappearance when she clarified what she meant by the debacle. "Lilies are beautiful this time of the year but they hardly add style to a floral white table cloth!" "We're more interested in their relationship!" Dean said lightly, oblivious to the flash of anger at being interrupted. "We had a cordial relationship except for the tulips and her (shudder) taste in jewelry we got along famously!"
"We mean the couples relationship? Can you think of any reason why she would disappear without informing any next of kin?" Dean stepped forward, raising his pencil in preparation over the notebook, looking to her for answers.
A grimace swept across her pretty face, "Not at all!" a thoughtful inflection, "To put it quite simply, they were in love or the very least they tolerated each others presence! Heaven knows I had a problem with that for the whole three months!" She laughed followed by Dean and Sam which was brash and hoarse. "Will that be all!" She said firmly, setting her jaw, her face relapsed into a professional mask. "No!" Dean said, ignoring her hint, "What about you're other clients; Nancy Ford and Caroline Cornel!" Immediately, her face tinted scarlet, "I'm sorry that information is classified and if you will excuse me I have better people to occupy my time with!" Promptly dismissing them, she strutted away without another backward glace leaving Dean and Sam to exchange looks.
The boys took a seat by the window, plotting their next move and waiting for their order. "So what now? There was defiantly something she wasn't telling us! Though she could have kept the comment about our clothes to herself!" Dean grumbled, tapping his fingers on the table. Every once in awhile he glanced at the pretty waitress, accompanied by a flirtatious smile. Sam as his usual self ignored his brother's antics, concentration on skimming thorough the newspaper articles. "The company is definitely involved but could they be responsible!" Sam said, a knot forming on his forehead but Dean was looking past him, aggravation twisted his handsome features. "Don't count your chicks before they turn up, Sammy!" "What?" Sam followed his gaze and mouth dropped open in bitter irritation, "Bella!" He spat out her name like a spoiled chocolate, making a face.
"Look at who she's talking to?"
"Miss Ashford!" Sam turned to Dean, faint traces of excited interest, "What do you think she wants with Bella?"
"Well maybe she is planning of getting married!" Dean shrugged casually but inwardly every muscle was tensing, "Or there is a big supernatural up for sale involving 'The Runaway Bride'!"
"Wait!" Sam's eyebrows winged up, staring at him bowled over with wonder, "You've watched that movie?"
AFTER 4 REVIEWS I'LL POST THE NEXT ONE, IF YOU LIKE IT LET ME KNOW! AND IF YOU HAVE PROBLEMS WITH IT, TELL ME HOW I CAN IMPROVE! CIAO!