Hi. So...yeah. Starting a new story...been a while since I published anything on fanfiction .net, but oh well. I know the idea is cliche, I know the Akatsuki would kill them in an instant and I know the prologue is boring. I wanted to set the mood before the chaos begins. So, yeah. Reviews are gladly accepted, critique eagerly anticipated and all of you other suckers can just go away. Or something. Gosh.
(Sorry about the swearing. I'm from the coast...)
Dead From the Neck Up
by MouseMuse
PROLOGUE
If you lie down with the Devil, you will wake up in Hell. And it's empty.
Zdravka stared out the car-window with droopy eyes, too tired and irritated to voice her discomfort. Johanna on the other hand had endless amounts of energy and soon spoke up:
"It's bloody deserted!" she declared. The village they drove through seemed rid of people, or any type of life. Dull, colorless and quiet - quite a big change from the busy streets of London. Zdravka, known as just Zee among her friends, steered the car down the muddy road, eyeing her surroundings with a slight frown. Perhaps they were all down at the docks? Hammarshire did proudly exaggerate their reputation as a fishing village after all.
"I see alive people," whispered the only boy in the car dramatically; he rested in the passenger seat, and tried to point discreetly at the townspeople who were gathered around something called The Jolly Fisherman. They looked as worn down and bland like their hometown, with harsh skin Zee associated with people spending most of their lives outside. Like the paint on the houses was faded and rough, so were their features. Like Zee, they were frowning.
"They don't look too happy," commented Oliver, and made a face at one of the elder ladies. Jo in the back seat laughed her hoarse bark of a laugh, and proceeded to make kissy faces out the window as they drove by. Zee saw this in the mirror, but decided not to comment. She lazily nodded when she made eye contact with someone who did not resemble a "jolly fisherman." He spat on the ground.
Oliver read the directions again. "Follow the road through the village, and about 4 miles further." Luckily they did not need to ask for directions, as only one road continued out of the village and along the coast.
Supporting the steering wheel with her knee, she opened the window and lit herself a cigarette. How could she really blame the villagers not giving them a hearty welcome? Driving in a filthy, minty green mini-van with the word "Smooth" painted on the side was not the fastest way to gain approval in a conservative town in the middle of nowhere. If it was up to her, she would not drive the filthy, minty green mini-van at all, but it was the only way they could fit four youths, a medium-sized dog and all of their belongings as they drove the good 130 miles from London.
"Well, they did at least have a pub. Any place with a good pub is acceptable, in my opinion." Jo still discussed the town with Oliver. "Of course, I'd soon accept any place with alcohol, given there were reasonable quantities of the stuff." She laughed again, and Zee smiled.
Oliver had opened the other window, and the mini-van soon filled with the fresh breeze from the sea. "It smells like fish," he said. And they all saw the vast ocean on the left side of the road, and heard the cries of the gulls - all except Victoria, the other girl in the back seat. She snored gently, with a labrador on her lap.
Zee saw the contours of a great big house up ahead, and sighed. It was going to be one hell of a summer.
Slamming of car doors woke her up, and she blinked groggily. A heavy figure consisting of fur and saliva slept soundly on top of her - she rubbed her eyes before pushing the mutt down. "Get down, you." Rocky whined, but obliged and bolted out of the van, eager to explore his new surroundings.
Shivering, she put her jacket on and followed her friends out of the van. Zee stood still in front of her, not saying a word.
"Fiddlesticks." Jo finally voiced their feelings, just a tad lighter than Tori would have. A great big, goddamn house loomed over them. Tori felt small.
"This is the freaking epitome of a Haunted House," said Oliver lightly, standing at Tori's side. She glanced at him, seeing that the blonde looked happy as ever. She groaned.
"It's huge, man." Hugging herself, she studied the great house that towered in front of them. Undoubtly, it had once looked magnificent, but now time had removed its grace. Two stories, a patio, huge windows and great attention to detail made it look expensive and dreamy. The flaking paint, overgrown bushes, rust and some light graffiti made it look like…a lot of work.
"Okay. All in favour of selling this heap of junk to a scary movie director, raise your hand" said Oliver and held his hand up.
Tori glared. "Shush." It did look creepy, and the dust on the windows accompanied by the light wind produced shadows and contours not fit for Tori's overreactive imagination.
"Seriously, look at it! It can be haunted by anything! Such an old house…I'm sure there's a murder somewhere in its history."
"Shut up, would ya?"
"Okay, but don't come running to me when a homicidal maniac cut out your innards." He held his hands up in defeat, a light grin never leaving his face. Tori hit him slightly on the arm, just to make herself feel better. The hair on her neck stood up in expectation. Even in the bright daylight, the house gave her a bad feeling.
"Oh shush, Ollie," Jo sang and swung an arm over Zee's scrawny shoulders. "We'll have this place in tip-top condition in no time, y'know? And then we'll have so loud parties that even the toughest poltergeist will be scared." She proceeded to strut forward, probably still grinning.
Tori wished she shared Jo's optimism, but she had that pessimism built in along with her sense of reality. This place was…nothing more than a lot of work. Even Jo, with all her energy and infinite amount of confidence was not prone to hard work of any kind. Sighing, she ambled forwards.
"Well, Zee. What're your thoughts on this?" she asked the red-head, the two of them being the only pragmatists of the gang. She hoped Zee saw the reason of just turning around and going back.
"Fuck me," Zee said quietly under her breath, a string of smoke rising from within her lungs; the cigarette hung loosely from her lips. "Fuck me hard."
Johanna considered herself a good-natured girl, with a positive attitude towards most things. She was kind to children, most of the time, adored all kinds of animals, even the icky ones, and made it her goal to turn a frown upside down. Despite this, she admitted (to herself, not to the others) that her spirit sank when she saw the great project that would occupy them for the rest of the summer.
Carefully putting a boot-clad foot on the stairs, she became the first one to get a physical experience of the building. The house even smelled old. Once trusting that the probably rotten woodwork would hold her weight, she stepped up. And shrieked.
"FIDDLESTICKS ON A PLATFORM!" she screamed, waving her hands everywhere and dancing wildly around on the steps. "BUGGER BUGGER BUGGER!"
"Jo! What's wrong?" Oliver came rushing to her aid, barely avoiding being slapped by the frantic girl.
"Spiders!" She hopped down, and waltzed around on the grass, brushing herself off and making tiny noises of disgust. "Gross, eight-legged creatures with weird eyes and…cobwebs!" Shuddering, and checking herself for any leftover yuckies, she imagined tiny little legs crawling all over her. The shuddering increased. Jo hated insects and spiders…things with more legs than four were unnatural, okay? As a self-proclaimed nature-lover it was hypocritical of her to loathe these tiny figures, but she couldn't help herself. Her worst nightmare consisted of caterpillars or centipedes.
"Grossgrossgross," she muttered and threw dirty glances towards the patio. Snakes? No problem. Crocodiles? Bring 'em on! Bats? Sure. But spiders? No. Big no.
Oliver, being the gentleman Jo imagined him to be, removed most of the cobwebs with a long stick he found lying about. He casually remarked that they should expect a lot of bugs inside the house, since it had been unoccupied for so long. Jo hit him over the head, and thus removed herself from any bug-or-spider-related duties.
They ventured inside, Jo a lot more careful now, and the sight awed them. Dust arose from the disturbance in the air, and wild coughing ensued. Covering her mouth with her fist, she tried to make out what the insides looked like. The windows, not only covered in grime but also heavy curtains, allowed no light inside the living room, making it black as night. Splitting up, they each explored different parts of the house. Putting a scarf on like a mask, Johanna went to tear down the curtains. Immediately shrieking started again, as dead spiders and flies rained down upon her.
"Pass me the ketchup, yeah?"
"Who wants the chili ones?"
"Oy, stop burping, you imbecile!"
The mood lifted considerably as the night came, and they lit the quiet night soothed them, with just a mild breeze, and they sat huddled around, hotdogs on sticks like they were out camping. Rocky laid at Oliver's feet, chewing happily on a bone. They discussed everything and nothing, as their conversations usually went.
"Have any of you considered, that we have to cook like this for several weeks?" Zee ruined the mood, and took a huge mouthful of beer.
"Oh shush, it'll be fun," Jo said and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's like being back in the 1920's or something. Back in the old days."
It's true, Zee mused. They even had to get water from a well, which was a LOT more work than it first looked like . They were lucky someone had covered the well and the water proved drinkable. Tori refused to drink it however, unless it had been boiled. The house did actually have electricity, but it was old and they had to get an electrician to work on it. He was coming in a couple of weeks; the gang had figured they could survive without TV, internet, telephones and microwaves in that short amount of time.
"It's not that we cook so much anyway." Oliver tried to talk with half a hotdog in his mouth. He swallowed. "Well, except you, Zee."
Zee smiled slightly at the praise. They were all students after all, and Tori pretty much survived on Chinese takeaway and frozen pies. Jo however had a slightly healthier diet, consisting of beer and her mother's cooking. Zee came from a big family, and being the eldest daughter of six siblings, she had done loads of the cooking from early age.
"Just to make it clear, I'm not doing all the cooking when we get a stove," Zee reminded them. Oliver groaned.
"You can't expect us to survive if Tori's doing the cooking."
"Shut up," Tori said, but with a smile. "I can't help I'm a spoiled American. I'm used to other people making the food."
"Yeah, people like my mum." Jo laughed loudly. "I'm more concerned we don't get to shower for two weeks!"
"We discussed this in the car. We'll shower in the village. Mrs Lawrence made some arrangements." Oliver licked his fingers, and ended the conversation.
Oh yes, Mrs Lawrence. Zee started plucking at her ancient shoes. The mysterious aunt of Oliver who "hired" them. In the exchange of fixing the old Lawrence House they got to keep it. The old lady apparently did not like the thought of selling the property so that someone would tear down the house. Apparently, it had some nostalgic value to her. It sounded fishy to Zee, but as Tori pointed out constantly, Zee was naturally skeptic to things. The rest of the gang did not have enough money to travel anywhere for the summer, so when Oliver made the proposition, they didn't hesitate. Well, they didn't hesitate much.
But Zee couldn't imagine any of them had ever thought the house would be in this horrific condition. However, Zee thought, she was the only one used to hard work, no matter how lazy she seemed. Her Slavic background made her proud, and her whole family worked all the time to provide for their children's education and well-being. Sometimes, being an immigrant made you stronger.
They decided to sleep outside the first night, in just their sleeping bags. In June the evening was warm enough, and the house still reeked of age and stuffiness. Zee laid down, slightly taken aback of the starry sky above her. Beautiful. You couldn't see this in London.
Oliver fell asleep first, his manly snoring breaking the silence. Jo giggled in the dark. "Shut it," Zee said, with humor covering her anger. They had been friends a long time, and she knew that even though she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with none of the modern benefits they were so dependant of, she was stuck with the best people in the world.
Oliver's snore got stuck in his throat, making a charming "Nghyaaghaarrgh" noise. Even Zee giggled.
Hate it? Love it? Ideas? I swear I don't verbally assault people without reason.