A/N: For the record, though it may seem like it, this is NOT an "No Such Luck" story from Lincoln's point-of-view. However, it will serve as a pivotal plot point serving in his disappearance. While there were many incidents in his family that highlighted their more questionable characteristics, this was the one that pushed him to the limit.
Oh, and to the unknown guest who suggested that this story was grounds for another over-the-top "NSL" story...I salute you.
A Month Ago. . .
Seeing how blood is thicker than water, the importance of family has never been so sound to greater effect in the 21st century. It provides a sense of love, support, and wellbeing to those who otherwise don't feel cared or nurtured enough. The members teach each other valuable lessons, serve one other, and exchange the joys and sorrows of life. Sadly, not every one was well adjusted to the idea of a loving household just quite. Indeed, the typical modern family was just as dysfunctional as the very thought of a perfectly normal family. Most of them tend to make the most of what unfortunate circumstances were thrown their way; otherwise, they would end up like him.
A despondent and down-on-his-luck drifter.
("The Night Begins To Shine" – Cee Lo Green)
Lincoln packed the last of his belongings and burned the rest of his belongings. He watched as the flames engulf the evidence which proved he resided at the residence who abandoned him without a blink and with no remorse while he slung his backpack over his shoulders. Not having that much money in his possession, he prayed that someone would rob it off him...so he could put a 9x19mm hollow point between their eyes. A SIG-Sauer P226R was one of the many objects taken from his father's safe deep inside his mother's wardrobe; why not place in a more secure place where nobody but them could locate it, he did not know (and most likely never will). Being only still a grade school preteen, you could just imagine the surprise on his grandpa's face when he asked him personally to teach him marksmanship and martial arts. The reason he gave him why?
Desperate times, desperate measures.
When the fire began to die out, Lincoln poured more lighter fluid onto the pit before tossing the entire container on top. He continued watching the blazes burning before turning tail. At the end of his avenue, he broke into a relentless sprint until he reached the bus stop. Glancing around to see if anybody shifty was doing anything shifty such as sticking their noses in places they shouldn't be, he readied his holstered handgun but his grip loosened upon spotting a bus speeding its way to him. Slowing to a stop and opening its doors, he entered inside and handed the driver a $300 before taking his ticket and a seat. As the bus drove off, he propped his head up with his arm and leaned against the window. This was it.
The night began to shine.
Max fell asleep during the drive. In his dreams that came, he was engulfed by pitch black. He saw nothing akin to light...until he did.
Max...
Max?
"Max!"
The boy opened his eyes and a bright light suddenly filled his vision. When it dimmed, a boy his age appeared before him. He had olive-colored hair with dark brown eyebrows, a yellow Camp Campbell shirt over a purple flannel long-sleeved shirt, blue shorts with a sky-blue triangle pattern, and lavender LA Gear light up shoes with orchid colored laces. His physical appearance partially consists of commercial clothing straight out of the 90's. He couldn't believe this, nor did he want to.
"Jasper?"
"Max. Where are you?"
Max tucked his hands into his pant pockets and frowned.
"I'm going home."
"What...? But why?"
"I found my family...my real family."
Jasper blinked in bewilderment, completely taken back by this revelation.
"Oh. Well, I'm very proud of you, Max."
An uncomfortable silence took place soon after...
"But...?"
...which was broken by an equally uncomfortable Jasper.
"But I really need you to get back to the camp. Please. Before it's too late."
"Before it's too late?"
"Cameron Campbell is exactly what you said."
"And what exactly did I say?"
Jasper hesitated to curse, but did so to prove his point.
"He's a rich piece of shit with terrible morals."
Max immediately brightened up at his assumption being proved right.
"Yes! I knew it! Wait, when did I say that?"
"You know, back in the day when we traveled to Spooky Island – ?"
"Oh! Okay, okay! No need to remind of that...traumatic experience."
"Ah, got ya, man. We all learned a valuable lesson that day: It goes to show that sometimes, the only thing scarier than monsters and ghosts...is real life. Specifically old people having sex. Weird, kinky sex in a dungeon. Boy, that is...that is some dark shit."
Another uncomfortable silence followed...
"Yeah, okay. Is there anything else you need to tell me?"
...which was broken by an equally uncomfortable Max.
"Hmm. Oh, yeah! Remember that cult leader who masqueraded as your new camp counselor? He's gonna come back, too."
"What, Daniel? I thought he died drinking his OWN toxic Kool-Aid."
"No, you don't know that, Max."
"Oh, really? Like you somehow know Campbell is plotting something that would end up killing each and every one of us?"
"There's a difference, Max. Listen, you have to believe me! Otherwise..."
"Otherwise what...?"
"Look, I'll tell you more when you ever get the chance to meet me again. Right now, I need to dip!"
"What? You can't leave now! What are Campbell and Daniel planning?"
"Something bad, Max. But you need to wake up. Now."
(~****~)
Max shot up from his car seat and drew back heavy breaths. Wiping his forehead to rid it of any sweat, he felt a soft hand of reassurance being placed on his right shoulder. Turning to said direction, he blinked to find Miss Rita giving a warm smile of sincerity, the same kind given when she and he first found each other.
"Max? Are you okay?"
"Yeah...I'm okay."
Shit. I forgot to call her "Mom"... Wait, why should I? Why now, at least?
"Are we there yet?"
"Not yet."
"Is it still nighttime?"
"Yes, sweetie."
"... This isn't a dream?"
"Of course not."
Max nodded and slumped back into his seat.
"Good. I was...just making sure."
"Speaking of dreams, you seemed to have a pretty nasty one just now."
"Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about...really crazy things. I don't want to talk about them. Not yet."
"All right, I won't pressure you. But sooner or later, you're going to have to open up."
"That's why I stay closed."
"Alrighty, guys. We're here," Lynn called from the driver's seat.
The van took a right to the street their house presumably was on. When it actually came into view, Max was...surprisingly enough, impressed. It was painted white with a black colored roof, a porch on the front side, a chimney running up the left side of the house, and a garage on the right side. The walls of the basement are made of red bricks.
"Huh. It's not as bad as I thought it would be."
"Oh, that's just the outside," Lynn closed the driver's door, "The inside suffers from faulty water pressure, creaky floorboards, rotting wood, a clunky furnace, crummy TV signals, doorknobs that break off from their doors, a malfunctioning mailbox, and a broken doorbell. So yeah, we just make the most of them."
"Huh. That's what I call devotion."
"Indeed, indeed," Rita nodded as she hoisted up Max's surprisingly heavy backpack. "But it's true. Despite the shortcomings of our house, we try not to spend too much money on repairs. We try, though, to make sure our daughters have a good life. And that's what we are striving for your sake."
Daughters? Hmm, this should be interesting.
Lynn unlocked the door and glanced inside to find a dimly-lit interior with no voices scattered throughout. As he and Rita exchanged confused and contemplated glances, Max glanced from beneath them and entered between them, observing the inside from head to toe just as he did for the outside. Entering inside the kitchen, his stomach began to grumble, realizing that his quest for fast food (or fan food in general) had quite eluded him for some time now. Mr. and Mrs. Loud seemed to notice this as well.
"Do you want anything, sport?" Dad suggested as he entered from behind him. "Pizza? Hamburgers? Chinese take-out?"
Max couldn't help but smile at his persistence to appeal to him and answered anyway. "Yeah. Pizza sounds nice."
Really nice...
Meanwhile, at a restaurant that blended elements of France and Mexico, ten girls with a personality of their own sat at a table as everybody who sat around them happily chattered away...unaware of the tragedy that surrounded themselves. Tonight was the five-month anniversary of their brother's disappearance, the events after which were quite unpleasant. Because the events before involves inadvertent usages of child abuse, their parents were sentenced to a five-year sentence, but was reduced to five months probation due to alleged "good behavior". The worse part? They were apparently oblivious of their doing of the dirty deed and the consequences it would bring upon them. Now that was adding insult to injury.
The eldest sister was seated at the very end with the youngest sister beside her in a high chair. As she fed her food, she watched from the corner of her eyes as her sisters exchanged soft-spoken words. All except two: herself and her fourth younger sister. The one who served as the unwilling instigator of doom. Seeing as much as she wanted to pin the blame on her (and with good reason), she couldn't do so out of pure guilt and sympathy for the poor girl.
When they left the restaurant, she caught up to her and her rather cold shoulder.
"It's not your fault, Lynn."
"I started this, Lori...and it seemed fitting that he finished it."
"It was his decision and his only to leave."
"And burn any and all remaining evidence of his existence? I bet he left to put himself out of our misery."
"That's not true. You don't know that."
"I do. Like I said...I started this. And I paid the price."
. . .
RIP!
. . .
"AAH!"
. . .
Lori and Lynn's heads shot up and turned toward the eighth sister of the bunch whose signature pink dress was all torn up for some reason, the main for her little hissy fit. Little did they know, it was little more than just a signature pink dress. (More on that later...) Stomping towards her first older sister and completely ignoring the fifth (whether or not this was intentional is entirely up to...not you, not yet), she crossed her arms and sniffed whilst her head was hung.
"I tore my dress."
"And how did you do it?"
"... I tore my dress...myself."
Lori sighed and pinched her nose bridge. Lola was one of the many people who truly invested herself in Lynn's deception and whose depression outweighed her passion...in this case, pageantry. This wasn't even the first time she tore her dress, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. However, it was the first she had done so not of subornation, but out of sinfulness. Due to her biggest regret being the disappearance and presumed demise of her brother, her performances were pointless and had plunged while also taking a toll on her personality and physicality. Not even her numbers could hinder her numbness.
"Ok. We'll fix it up once we'll get home."
"You can't even fix a broken heart, Lori. So what's the point?"
Lola shuffled off as Lori and Lynn watched on. Knowing that she had a point proven there, she didn't state it outright out of fear that her younger siblings losing any remnants of hope. This was going to be a pain...not helped by the fact that a surprise was seemingly in store for them.
("Sunglasses At Night" – Corey Hart)
Sometime later, Max was sitting on his bed as he donned black sunglasses and listened to a new wave/synth-pop track. His propped-up legs bobbed up and down to the beat of the music while his laid-down head swayed side to side all the same. In all fair honesty, he didn't mind the fact that his new bedroom bore some semblance of a living closet; in fact, he was pretty lax about it. He actually considered a step-up from her former sleeping quarters, the time of which it was his served as one where his former parents used his actual bedroom for money, drugs, and sex of the like.
SLAM!
Max's head shot up in alarm and he lowered the volume of the computer Mr. Loud lent him. Rummaging through his backpack for the switchblade acquired from Spooky Island, he located it as fear ran through his veins...a first even for him. Cracking open the door, he glanced around and heard sobbing from the second room to his left. Approaching the door and raising his balled fist to knock on wood, his hesitance outweighed his concern for only a split second before he committed.
"Go away, Mom!"
. . .
"Uh...I'm not your mom."
. . .
A moment later, the door flung open and Max backtracked out of surprise. There in the doorway stood a six-year old girl with long worn-down blonde hair with a right tuft, two missing front teeth, a long pink gown and sash, a white pearl necklace, elbow-length pink gloves, white earrings, pink high heels, and a tiara upon her head. However, despite her royal attire, her actual appearance was anything but. The most notable hint of this fact was her torn and tattered gown.
"And...who are you?"
. . .
"Who are you?"
"Don't make me murder you."
"Don't; I'm just a visitor," Max raised his hands. As Lola scanned him up and down, she crossed her arms before continuing.
"I can see that. Aren't you gonna give your name?"
. . .
"Fine. It's Max."
. . .
"Just Max...?"
"Just Max."
"Okay. What do you want, Max?"
"I heard you slam the door and cry not soon after. Are you okay?"
. . .
"No...I'm not."
. . .
"Well, at least you're being honest."
Her noting the sarcasm in his tone of voice, Lola scowled at Max nonetheless.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm never honest, so you can't tell exactly when or if I'm actually telling the truth. Believe me, you have the same problem."
"How do you know that?"
. . .
"I didn't, actually. You just told me. The oldest trick in the book is what I used."
Lola blinked in shock, the result of a delayed reaction, before glancing away and scowling again to herself. "I can't believe I fell for that!"
"Don't worry. You'll get used to it." It was now Max's turn to scan Lola up and down as he commented, "You need to fix that dress of yours. Don't you know someone who can?"
Lola dropped the semi-murderous side and donned a more sheepish grin. "I do...but I yelled at that person because I was kind of in a bad mood at the moment. I'm afraid to ask her now."
"Ah." With that, Max walked past Lola and ushered her inside, much to her confusion.
"What are we doing?"
"I think the more important question is what am I doing? Because somebody has to do it, fixing your dress is what I'm doing."
"You can fix dresses?"
"No, but like I said, somebody has to. Plus, I like to knit, which is sorta the same. Don't laugh, okay?"
Alas, it was too late. With Lola already visualizing a moody boy like Max having something like knitting as a pastime, she covered her mouth in an attempt to hinder any upcoming guffaws. She failed...obviously.
"Too late."
"Damn it..." Max muttered to himself as he searched for a sewing kit. "Hey, I never got your name."
"Right. It's Lola...Lola Loud."
. . .
Oh, crap. So this must be one of my new sisters my new mom and dad were talking about.
Of course, despite his realized predicament, Max couldn't help but feel slightly joyous beneath his nonchalant attitude. Finally locating the aforementioned sewing kit, he marched to Lola and gestured to the bed. They both walked over and sat atop, during which he stuck out his hand for her to shake.
"Nice to meet you, Lola."
"The nice is all mine, Max."
With them now making a formal acquaintance of each other, Max went to work on Lola's dress. I have a feeling that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
. . .
I sure hope so; otherwise, all of her other sisters will have my ass on the wall.
A/N: A full three months later, I finally (FINALLY!) managed to publish this second chapter. I decided to have Lola be the first to meet her new brother because, what I thought about it, she and Max are not all that dissimilar from each other. Of course, while Lola has loving and caring parents...Max doesn't. Plus, since he harbors an affinity for knitting, having her tore her dress in a fit of guilty rage just to have him patch it up is a nice way for them to get acquainted. Don't worry, he'll meet the other sisters eventually.
Lincoln will inevitably play a major part in the story, but right now will be relegated to cameo appearances in important flashbacks. He's essentially a living MacGuffin, whose disappearance prior to the main story triggers the events after it. I debated his fate to be revealed later on in the story, but I'm just gonna come out and say it: it's strictly ambiguous.
And yes, Daniel returns in his villainous glory, and he is far more sinister than his first (and so far only) appearance already indicated. Think Jim Jones, Thomas McCarthy, and Carl Drew met John Doe (Kevin Spacey, Seven) and Owen Davian (Philip Seymour Hoffman, Mission Impossible 3) with just a dash of Castor Troy (Nicolas Cage, Face/Off) thrown in for good measure. Of course, that's just my theory. Also, Campbell is merely a supporting player to Daniel's plan of revenge...in his own eyes, anyway.
