Alrighty guys! So, I probably should be writing another chapter for Red Letter Errors, but something happened that inspired me to write this story.
I went on vacation this weekend for my brothers' birthday. No one was house-sitting for us when we left, and everything was locked up. I got home on Sunday, put my purse on my desk and went to sleep in my bed, which is a few feet away from my desk. I text to fall asleep, and about an hour and a half later, as I'm staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake me, my purse slammed onto the floor. It stunned me for two reasons: A) gravity usually doesn't take THAT long to work, and B) I was 98% positive that my purse was securely placed on my desk. Trying not to panic, with it being one in the morning, I chalked it up to slow gravity and moving purse contents and went to sleep, albeit kinda creeped. For the past week or so I have been hearing my desk's contents moving, but I have always labeled it the fan blowing or a mouse or gravity, etcetera. So today, as I opened my purse, I realized that my 50 dollar perfume bottle inside had broke and I was pissed. I was truly surprised as to how hard my purse fell. I went out on the town for the day and didn't put much more thought into it. I came home, and I realized that on my desk was a note, written sloppily in red pen on a half of an index card, the pen and other ripped up cards laying nearby. My heart rate sped up. I almost had a heart attack when I read what it said:
"Emma
Her brain needs to function properly"
Is now a good time to mention that I don't know anybody named Emma that lives within a fifteen mile radius or any Emma's that know where I live?
My heart rate is speeding just from writing this.
I asked my brothers if they had written it; I got the unanimous answer of "No". It doesn't look like their handwriting anyway. And its way too sloppy to be my handwriting, sleeping or not. I have no idea what to think of this. However, I do think that my desk is moving out of my bedroom.
Yeah, a mouse could have written that. Riiiiiiight.
The hell does that note even mean?
I tore the note up and threw it away. It makes me sick to think about it.
A shiver just ran down my spine. This is the absolute creepiest, spine tingling thing that has ever happened to me. And its not even Halloween yet.
Happy October, Remi….
I hate October
Ok, so now you know my inspiration. Did it creep you out too?
When this story idea originally popped in my head (about 5 minutes ago), I wanted it to be a Castle fic, because I wanted to write on them, but I couldn't figure out a good way to start this fic. Jane moving into a new apartment just seemed like a good way to start off a creepy fanfic.. Plus, my writing brain just went into overload with the possibilities of what the note is.
None of them are good, by the way..
Anyways, sorry for the uber long intro. Here we go.
Love,
The creeped out writer Remi
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Jane took one last good look out of the window of his attic. Or the window of what used to be his attic. Patrick Jane, after three years of literally living in the CBI's attic, was moving out.
He was living on his own again. The entire team was so proud of him.
Truth be told he never liked the attic. He never referred to it as home, or even a place of solitude. He slept more on his couch than he did in his attic bed.
Not like he ever slept much anyways…
The only reason he had even moved into the attic was to get away from that hellhole he used to call his home. Who knew that a once peaceful, loving place can turn into a living nightmare and place of regret with a smiley face painted on the wall? Well, when the smiley face is made of your wife and daughter's blood, that changes things. Patrick Jane knew this all too well. A defiant, solitary tear streamed down his face, the only one that he would allow to come out. Jane saw his new move to be the beginning of his new life.
Red John was dead, so was that old, miserable part of his life. No longer are the days of bloodthirsty revenge and worries; the days of starting anew are here.
Patrick Jane felt like he was given a fresh start, a chance at a new life. He was seizing this opportunity, and seizing it with much gusto. Jane was absolutely thrilled to have a place to call his own again. He began imaging paint swatches and gourmet home-cooked meals and even a small garden in the back. Jane had always had a bit of a green thumb.
But with all of his excitement, Jane still felt a little sentimental about leaving his attic.
Jane had decided to keep working with the CBI; he was too attached to the job to give it up. Plus, it didn't help that his only friends were the members of his team. His team. Sure, Lisbon was the "Senior Agent", but sometimes, it truly felt like Jane was running the show. Between the bizarre ideas, the fact that Jane took orders from nobody and the way Jane could get anybody to follow his bizarre plans, Jane sometimes felt that he should have the big glass office, not Lisbon. No, that does not mean he was hot for Lisbon's job, or anything, but Jane sometimes felt like he was a little underrated.
But it really didn't bother him. Being in the spotlight all of the time got boring. It was nice to not have your face and name all over everything. Anonymity was nice. He knew this all too well from his days as a "psychic".
Jane felt a small hand rest on his shoulder. That was his cue to leave. He turned around to see Lisbon standing directly behind him, a small, approving, sympathetic smile on her face. The keys to the moving van were in her other hand. Behind her stood Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt. Rigsby carried the last box between his left arm and hip, a small half-smile gracing his face. Van Pelt was teary-eyed at the sentimentality of the moment. Cho stared straight-faced ahead.
Jane sent them all a big smile.
"Come on guys, lets move me into my new apartment."
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"Lets move that sofa against the wall, it breaks up the room too much if we were to leave it there." Jane was excitedly barking orders at Rigsby and Cho, who (as the strong men of the group) were moving the heavier pieces of furniture.
"Yes, Princess Patrick" Cho sarcastically bowed at him before picking up his end of the heavy sofa and moving it where he was told,
"Perfect! Its perfect. Alright guys, I think I can handle the rest of it. I'm good for the little things." Jane clapped them on the back as they said their goodnights and goodbyes.
Van Pelt walked over, hugged him and then kissed him on the cheek sweetly. Jane was a little surprised at that.
"Congratulations, Jane. You deserve to be happy again." And she hugged him again before walking out of his apartment.
He sighed and began to make his way upstairs to his bedroom.
"Hey, Jane?" He had almost forgotten that Lisbon had helped him move too.
"Lisbon! You leaving too?" He smiled softly at her.
"Shortly; I'm pretty tired. You have a lot of crap." She laughed; he barely had anything to move, "But, I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything, I'm right here."
"I'm sure I will be just fine, Lisbon." He smiled at her.
"I know, I know. You're a big boy. But I'm serious, if you feel lonely or sad or anything do not hesitate to call me. I live a literal two minutes away by car; I'd be here in no time. I'm serious. Call me for anything, even if you just hear something go bump in the night. " She laughed again. "I want this move to be a positive experience. I worry about you sometimes, Jane, even with Red John out…" She was cut off by Jane enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Thank you, Lisbon. I appreciate it."
And they stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth and comfort in the hug.
Everything is going to be okay.
For now.
Jane let go of her. Putting his hand on her cheek, he smiled at her.
"Well, good night, my dear. I will call if I need something."
Her heart rate sped up, she could have sworn she saw his eyes flick down to her lips. She thought he was going to kiss her. She tilted her head when all of a sudden…
BAM!
A book had fallen off of a nearby shelf. How strange for it to have waited for so long to fall.
Jane's hand fell from Lisbon's cheek as he walked over to the interrupting object, furrowing his brow in confusion.
"Damn gravity" he mumbled as he placed the book back in its place.
Lisbon cocked an eyebrow. How had that book even fallen? She had organized that particular shelf and was certain that none of the books were in any position to be overcome by gravity. A nagging feeling started in her gut, but Lisbon quickly squashed it.
"Well, Lisbon, you should probably get home. You did say you were tired after all.."
"Yeah, yeah. Well, Goodnight Patrick." She smiled and opened the door. He walked behind her, grabbing the top of the door frame.
"Goodnight, Teresa." He said as he closed the door behind her. He stood by the door long enough to hear her get in her car and drive away.
Throwing a suspicious glance at the book shelf, Jane walked upstairs to his bedroom, shutting off the lights in the process.
Jane pushed himself under his covers. They smelled like the CBI. He smiled.
His smile vanished when he heard the papers on his desk ruffling. It sounded like they were moving, and he could have sworn he heard the scratch of a pen.
Too tired to look, Jane rolled over, away from the offending object.
I'll set up some mouse traps tomorrow. Jane thought with a grimace. He hated mice.
But it isn't mice that Patrick Jane should worry about.
After all, mice cannot leave cryptic notes on one's desk….
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BOOM.
So, there we go. This is me trying to get uncreeped by writing about the ridiculousness of the situation.
I seriously hope that this is a joke.
I'll keep ya posted.
Should I continue this? If so/not, tell me!
I love your reviews!
Much love,
Still-creeped-out Remi
