Chapter 1: Spectra Vondergeist
1845
"I heard they found a body in the courthouse they're building."
Spectra lifted her head, tearing her gaze away from her textbook as she looked to the right. Mary grinned down at her, gripping the back of her seat as she sat turned, sitting on her knees.
"Really? Where you'd hear that?" she asked.
Mary shrugged, "From the shoemaker, as I was passing by. Word is that they're suspecting foul play, or that someone snuck into the it at night, drunk, and fell from a great height.."
Spectra's eyes widened at that. That definitely was some news. To know that the courthouse everyone had demanded finally be built was going to be halted because of a grim death? It would surely be in the papers for weeks.
There was a scoff, and Spectra looked to the side. Mary's twin, Celeste, shook her head as she looked up from her textbook.
"You know Mother says it's only a rumor," the blonde scolded, "And that you shouldn't immediately believe everything you hear."
Mary rolled her eyes, "Oh, yes, sister, because you're one to talk."
"I don't just go off assuming everything I hear is fact," Celeste rebutted.
"Besides," she added, "I heard it was a child's body they found."
Spectra's mouth made an o-shape, before a giddy grin stretched across her features. "Ooooh, now that's a scandal. It would be in the papers for weeks."
"Yeah," Mary said, "And it wouldn't make any sense. What's a kid doing all alone in an empty building in progress all by themselves at night?"
"Like I said, I don't know if it's true," Celeste disclaimed, "For all we know, there was an accident and the child's parents decided to hide the evidence."
Spectra rubbed her chin, "Well, there's only one way to find out. I say, a little…digging is necessary, just to find what clues may lead us to the best conclusion."
Celeste gave her a look.
"I don't know about this time," she said, "There's a lot more people around at this time of day working on the courthouse. And aren't you already in trouble with your parents for the last time we got caught?"
Spectra shrugged, "What they don't know won't hurt them."
"Normally, I'd say yes, but Celeste is right," Mary said as she sunk into her seat, "There's going to be no way we can sneak in there without someone seeing us. And to be honest, I'm not looking forward to having to deal with that with Mother again."
Spectra gave both of them a small smile. The twins were a bit of an odd bunch, but they were the only ones in the school building she found who shared her love of investigating. Most of the others just laughed at her or told her she deserved whatever she got coming to her for being nosy.
"You don't have to come with me if you don't want to," she said, "If you want, you could even be the lookout and I'll go in by myself. That way, if anything goes wrong, we can just-"
SLAM!
The three girls suddenly jumped as a ruler smacked Spectra's desk, making a large clapping sound that echoed in the room. Spectra glanced up in shock, meeting the angry lined face of her teacher.
"If you ladies want to chit chat about mindlessness, I suggest you go outside and do it," she responded harshly, "But while you are in my classroom, I'd like to remind you that such hours will be spent studying and not harping like a bunch of crows. Now stop talking and get back to your work."
She walked away with a second glance. Spectra looked up to see the rest of her classmates were looking at her, several them chuckling quietly. She blushed, forcing her gaze onto her book.
Not that they mattered. Let them be concerned with their stupid language lessons and boring books. They wouldn't know a good story- one that was actually happening in reality and not a book- if it hit them right in the face.
Mary turned back in her seat, though she leaned over at Spectra.
"Just let me know when you have time, and we can go together," she whispered, "I want to see this for myself."
Spectra whispered, nodding in response just as the teacher turned back around. She forced her gaze onto her book, though the words didn't register as she continued to mull over the news. At least someone was willing to explore her curiosities with her.
They were her only friends, but they were thick as thieves, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
The twins both have differing accounts of what they've heard, but they both confirm something: That something did in fact happen at the courthouse they're building, she wrote, her fountain pen making light scratching sounds on the paper as she her hand moved quickly down the page, writing nimbly and leaving curly letters in its wake.
This calls from some investigating, Spectra scribbled down, an excited grin coming to her face as she noted the idea, I'll have to start from the distance, look from afar to make sure it's not too busy to approach. I'll probably get the most if I stay close to the walls; the windows should be open at this time of year, what with how hot it is. Maybe if I'm lucky, I could even sneak in and see where it happened. I just hope all the mess has been cleaned up. I'd hate to be minding my business and look down, only to see I've stepped on a pool of dried blood-
"Spectra!"
She jumped slightly at the sound of her name being called. She had become so engrossed in her writing that for a moment, she forgot where she was. Spectra lifted her head, her hand paused in the middle of writing a word. Her mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on her hips as she looked at Spectra with a disapproving frown.
"Didn't I tell you to set the table? Supper's almost ready!" Chloris scolded.
Spectra blinked at her, confused. Chloris frowned and gestured with a nod to her left. Spectra looked over; the stack of plates and silverware that she was given a few minutes earlier still sat in their place at her side, untouched. Spectra blushed, realizing that she had completely zoned out in her writing.
"S-Sorry!" She said, "I guess I lost the time writing."
"You guessed right. Well, come on then, hop on it!" Chloris responded, looking at the grandfather clock, "Your father is going to be home soon, and I want to have everything organized so when he does, we can all just immediately sit down and eat."
Spectra pouted. She hated being interrupted when she was in the middle of writing an entry; it made her feel anxious that she might've missed a detail or overlook something important in her distraction once she got back to.
She held up her journal. "Can I at least finish this one? And then I'll get right to it, I promise-"
"Spectra."
Her shoulders dropped. That was a tone that indicated there would be no negotiating. Sighing in resignation, she closed her journal, picking up her pen and inkwell and placing the three of them on the shelf for later.
"Oh, don't make that sound," Chloris said over her shoulder as she went back into the kitchen, putting the last touches on the roast duck, "You'll have plenty of time to write once supper is over."
"Yes, Mother," she heard Spectra reply with a heavy sigh, the slight clacking sound of plates being set on the wooden tabletop echoing behind her.
Chloris smiled, shaking her head. Her daughter, always one for dramatics. Sometimes she swore Spectra seemed better suited for the theatre than the printing press; her girl could put on such dramatics it would make Shakespeare laugh.
Just as Spectra adjusted the last fork with its knife, the front door opened. She looked up, seeing a tall man walk in, shutting it behind him as he removed his top hat. His auburn hair was combed back into an elegant style, albeit a bit mused from his hat. nose. Light green eyes that held a slightly tired look to them glanced down as he removed his coat, putting it on the rack near the doorway. Spectra smiled, giddiness instantly welling up in her.
"Papa!" she exclaimed, running around the table and up to him, throwing her arms around his waist.
The older man looked down at her as they stumbled back slightly, looking surprised for a moment, before a warm smile came onto his freckled features.
"Almost fully grown and you still run to me as if you were just a child," he greeted as he returned her hug, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. Spectra squeezed her eyes and squeezed; she didn't care. In her opinion, you were never too old to be happy to spend time with your family.
They broke apart, her father walking forward as Chloris appeared in the entryway of the kitchen, a soft smile on her lips.
"Welcome home, my love," she greeted warmly, giving him a light kiss, "How was your day?"
Hugo shrugged his shoulders as he smoothed down his waistcoat. "It was all right," he said, "Some close calls, but everything turned out all right."
Chloris nodded, "That's good to hear."
Her and Spectra grabbed the food, bringing it over to the dining table and setting it about. After it was all placed, the three of them took their respective place. After they did their daily ritual of saying Grace, they proceeded to fill their plates.
"So, Spectra, how was the delivery?" Hugo asked as he took a sip of wine, "I hope it wasn't too much trouble for Mr. Windsor. I know that even for him, it was a bit of a bulk order."
Spectra paused in eating, her fork hovering in the air as she looked at her father with confusion.
"What?" she asked.
Hugo's inquisitive smile dropped, and for a moment he looked as confused as she was. It was replaced with a frown when he realized she had no idea what he was talking about.
"The delivery?" he repeated, "You know, the one I asked you to pick up once you got done with your studies? The one we talked about this morning, right here at the table?"
Spectra furrowed her brows, trying to remember. It suddenly came to her, and her eyes widened.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, slightly retreating into her chair as a blush came onto her face, "I…I didn't get it. I forgot, sorry."
Hugo gave her a grim look. "Spectra, you promised me you'd go get it. I can't keep having Mr. Windsor keep it with him, it puts a lot more on him having to keep track of it."
"I know, I'm sorry," Spectra apologized.
It was true, that she had forgotten.
Though, she probably wouldn't have if she hadn't gone out of her way to go the completely opposite direction of the post office. And she probably wouldn't have forgotten if she hadn't been distracted by the news of what the twins had told her.
Not that her dad needed to know that, though.
Nope, they were just fine not knowing.
She looked back down at her foot, trying to shrug off the sudden nervousness the thought spawned as she shoveled several bites into her mouth. As she chewed, she felt the feeling of someone staring at her. She looked back up to see her father staring at her, something unreadable in his eye.
"…What?" she asked.
"Are you sure that's the only reason you didn't go? You forgot?" Hugo asked doubtfully.
Spectra nodded quickly. "Yes. I'm sorry, I'll make sure to go tomorrow. Guess I just got caught in my studies."
"Uh-huh," Hugo said, unconvinced, "Are you sure? It doesn't have anything to do with a little mystery of hearing there was an accident at the new building being built in town and trying to see if it was true? Or maybe that was another girl with black hair in a purple dress, I could be mistaken."
Spectra nearly choked on her food. She sat up in her chair, staring at her father with wide blue eyes. Hugo just looked at her with a nonchalant look; he shrugged at her horrified expression.
"Thought so," he said, taking another sip.
"You knew?!" Spectra questioned.
"Of course I did," Hugo replied, "I do work at the mill only a block over, remember? I work right next to the window, I see everything on the street. I was only waiting to see if you were going to fess up yourself."
"You did what?" Chloris questioned, looking at her daughter with wide eyes, "Spectra!"
Spectra winced. Here it came.
"I-I-I wasn't going to be there for long!" she defended, "I just…I just wanted to have a look around, see if the rumors were true!"
"By trespassing?" Hugo pointed out.
"I wouldn't think it to be trespassing," she tried to counter, "I mean, I didn't break anything open. I just thought of it as…a little spectating, before anyone knew."
Chloris' eyes widened, before she groaned and put rubbed her eyes.
"Spectra, good lord," she commented.
She grimaced at her mom's words. "I was just trying to find out the truth…"
"There's a right way and wrong way to go about that, Spectra," Hugo said sternly, "Such as not going where you're not supposed to and snooping upon matters that don't involve you, and instead opting for just asking people."
Spectra pouted as she hung her shoulders. She stared at her food in embarrassment, and a little bit of frustration.
They talked like it was a common occurrence, and it wasn't anything like that…at least, not that common of an occurrence.
And it wasn't like that was her immediate option that she went with. She did try asking around. In her experience, though, just asking people upfront could only get you so far: Most of the time the people she tried to interview either tended to brush her off- often followed by some crude comment along the liens of how it wasn't "ladylike" for her to get such big ideas, whatever that was supposed to mean- or just flat out ignored her and told her to go away.
As Spectra saw it, it was important to get the truth and all the important details through any means possible- even if that meant pushing the boundaries sometimes.
What was the big deal anyway? It wasn't like she was breaking and entering, was she? She didn't even get into the building! Last time she checked, looking through a window wasn't a crime.
"I'm…I'm sorry," she mumbled, though it was obvious she didn't really mean what she said, "It's just everyone I asked around just told me to hush my mouth, and I was just curious."
Hugo and Chloris shared a look. Though they both felt that while Spectra meant well, but needed to be reminded that there was a boundary to everything, it felt obvious that this was a conversation that wouldn't go very far. Sighing, Hugo rubbed his temple.
"Just…promise me you'll be more careful, please?" he asked, "And no more of this sneaking around. I'd rather not look forward to hearing one of the foremen complain my ear off."
Relucantly, Spectra nodded. "Okay, Papa."
In reality, though, she didn't feel okay, because she didn't understand what the big deal was.
"I don't get it," she grumbled as she sat at her vanity later that night, brushing her hair, "I didn't break anything. I didn't steal anything. I didn't even get inside. So why are they so upset about it?"
She furrowed her brows at her reflection, as if she were expecting it to answer back. For a few moments, she was silent, watching through the mirrored glass as she pulled the bristles through her thick black locks.
A thought suddenly came to her.
"Maybe it was really bad," she considered, "That's why they wouldn't want anyone to see, wouldn't they? Because it was worse than anyone initially thought?"
She paused, thinking it over.
It would make sense. She didn't know how they cleaned up broken glass mixed in with blood- her gut twisted at the thought- but she could only assume it wasn't an easy task. Looking back at her reflection, Spectra smirked slyly.
"I don't think checking one more time to see if there's any clues would hurt anyone," she told herself, "I just have to make sure I…blend in much more."
She chuckled as she put her brush down. Surely one more little peak wouldn't do any wrong?
She stood up, opening her door and walking down the hallway, intent on giving her parents a goodnight kiss before she said her prayers and got into bed.
As she approached their doorway, she heard them conversing on the other side.
"….didn't want to say anything when Spectra was nearby," she heard her father say, "I thought this would be a little too graphic for her to hear."
Spectra paused, her hand hovering above the wood where she was about to knock. As soon as she heard her name, though, she froze.
"Is it that bad?" her mother said, her tone grim.
Her father didn't reply for a second, presumably nodding to answer her question, based on the slight gasp that Spectra heard come from her mother.
"It was terrible. I didn't actually see it happen, but one minute I see him working the cogs. I turned my back, and next minute he was lying on the floor, screaming like a pig in the slaughter. It was awful," her father replied, a noticeable edge now having crept into his voice.
Curiosity shot up in Spectra, and she raised her brows as she kept closer to the door. Putting only the barest weight against it, she pressed her ear to it.
Something happened at the mill after all? From the sound of it, someone got hurt? How?
As if she had vocalized it, Hugo quickly answered. He sighed heavily, before he carried on.
"I'll never forget the site. He nodded for a second, just ONE second, and his hand got caught in the gears. Two of his fingers, ripped right off," he said, his voice sounding like it was about to crack; something that Spectra had never heard come from him.
"By God," she heard her mother respond in horror, "What did you do?"
There was the light sound of footfalls on the hardwood floor, before Spectra heard a far off sound of squeaking, presumably her father sitting down on the bed.
"What we could do when we finally snapped out of our horror," he replied, "It was nothing short of a miracle the boy didn't bleed to death. But his fingers…there's no way we could save those. Even after the foreman made us wrestle them out of the machine in case they broke it."
A feeling of queasiness went through Spectra. The faint taste of bile briefly appeared in her throat at the thought of the sight of someone getting their fingers caught.
"He was worried about the machine? Even with what was happening?" Chloris asked from the other side.
"Oh, of course he was. Why wouldn't he be?" Hugo replied sarcastically, sounding bitter, "After all, if the machine breaks, that's good money the company lost. And we can't have that, now can we?
"He didn't even care that he was in pain, Chloris," he continued, "When we finally managed to get a tourniquet on him, all he could do was yell at the poor kid about recklessness and 'being more careful' and how we 'didn't want another repeat of last time'."
Spectra's eyes rose.
'Like last time?'
Her father never mentioned anything about any accident happening at the mill before. What else had he hidden from her?
Her mother spoke up, "So…what is going to happen?"
There was no response from her father.
"….Hugo?"
Spectra heard him sigh again.
"This can't keep happening, Chloris. This has been the fourth time in two months alone. And the foremen, they…they don't care. They give compensation, but only so the ones who are injured can keep their mouths shut about it. They can't keep getting away with this," he explained.
"Hugo…Are you proposing…?"
"When I saw that boy, Chloris…God, he couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Spectra," her father said, "And to see him like that…All I could think of was how I would feel if she were in his position, if she was-"
A pang went through Spectra's chest when she heard him suddenly cut himself off, his voice growing thick and heavy until it sounded like he was about to break down in tears. She had never seen him cry before. The thought of so actually made her a little afraid; it was clear that whatever had gone down at the mill, whether this time or previous times- she wondered how many other times something like this happened- was weighing on him deeply.
But what was this 'proposal' her mother spoke of?
A few seconds of silence passed.
Then, Spectra heard Hugo clear his throat, before he resumed.
"I've spoken to a few others at the mill; they feel the same way," he explained, "We've talked about it for a few weeks. And…they're thinking of organizing a union. Against the foremen."
Spectra felt her mouth drop open.
"Oh, Hugo, a strike?" her mother exclaimed, "You could lose your job."
"No job is worth being treated like something disposable," Hugo snapped, "It was awful enough this time, Chloris, but what about the next? What if it's me who's hurt next? What if it's even worse than missing fingers? No, I won't stand for it. I will work to support my family, but dammit, I will not stand for this inhumanity! Something needs to change!"
Spectra lifted her ear and stared at the door. Her father sounded angry, but she could also detect a small bit of fear in his voice.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't, Hugo," her mother clarified, "But…please, be careful. These aristocrats would do anything to keep the money in their pockets."
"I know," he responded, "But something must be done. I will not stand for being treated as if I'm one with the machine any longer."
"I know, my love. And you know I am with you all the way."
Spectra backed up from the door. Her heart beat with exhilaration, her palms were sweaty. Goosebumps were forming on her arms.
She turned and, trying to be as light as she could on her feet against the creaky boards of the floor, raced back to her room. Being considerate to not slam the door, lest she give herself away, she backed away from it, sliding into bed and under the covers. She stared at the ceiling, a million thoughts racing through her head all at once.
Papa was planning on organizing a union? Oh, that was preposterous! And dangerous.
She didn't know many people in the upper class- most of the kids who were part of it who went to her school tended to act like they couldn't be bothered to even look in her direction, so conversation was a rather scarce subject- but from what she'd heard around town, she knew that they knew very well what to do with their money and how to keep it. Even if it meant going to very…unethical extremes.
Her mother's words echoed through her head.
She was right. Papa was putting himself in a risky position. A strike could mean many things; maybe there was a chance that the foremen would realize how bad the working conditions were, and actually work with their employees to improve the conditions.
Or they'd just fire him on the spot and cast him to the streets. Then her mom would be the sole provider, but they wouldn't be making nearly enough to get by.
Spectra suddenly felt a lump in her throat. She shook her head, coughing a few times to clear it out.
It wouldn't do her any good to think about the what-ifs. All she could do was wait and see how it all played out.
As she felt her eyes get heavy, Spectra smiled.
"I'll watch…from a distance," she said with a yawn, "That way I can keep in the loop and they'll never know it."
"Well, little Spectra! What a pleasant surprise!" Mr. Windsor greeted cheerfully as she walked through the door, "Your father said you'd be coming around to pick up his packages. Though I admit I was expecting quite a few days earlier."
Spectra fought to keep the blush on her face down. "Yes, he did. I…kinda forgot, every time."
Mr. Windsor raised an eyebrow in doubt, though he didn't say anything as he walked to the back, reappearing a few seconds later with her father's things in his arm.
"There you go!" he said, handing them to her over the counter as she dropped several coins into his hand in exchange, "Everything should be there! Is there anything else I can get for you?"
Spectra shook her head, "No, this is it. Thank you, Mr. Windsor."
"My pleasure, dear!" he chuckled, "And please, feel free to drop in any time. It's always nice to see a familiar face."
Spectra gave him a small smile as she nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."
As she left the store, she adjusted her grip up on the packages, frowning as some of the sharper edges began to dig into her arm.
"I don't understand what he needs all these parts for," she said to herself as she began to walk down the street, "What is he planning on doing, build his own mechanism?"
She struggled to get a better hang of the packages as she continued walking, grunting as she tried to position them more comfortably without dropping them. She turned the corner, where the bank and market were located.
"…just decided that they would throw everyone to the wolves with them, without any regard for how the rest of us would feel!"
Spectra stopped at the sudden sharp voice some ways up ahead. She looked up.
She saw interested to see her mother standing outside the bank, seemingly conversing with Mrs. Connell, the wife of one of the men Hugo worked beside. As she drew closer- initially going to introduce her presence- Spectra's steps slowed when she saw the tight, pinched look upon Mrs. Connell's features as she addressed Chloris.
"It's not like he's trying to get everyone fired," she heard Chloris argue back, "Hugo just believes the foremen are much too careless when it comes to the working conditions of the mill. He's trying to help Arthur and all of them, Beryl."
Spectra crept closer, curious and confused about the conversation, though she now made a point to keep out of sight, lest her mother or Mrs. Connell turn around and notice her.
"Help? And how is putting everyone's job on the line 'help?'" Mrs. Connell snapped back, her dark blue eyes narrowed, "It sounds more like a scapegoat, if you ask me! They couldn't be brave enough to face the boss on their own, so they decided to put together this 'union' so if they're punished, they can make it seem like there was just one big conspiracy!"
"Beryl, it's not like that-"
"Who's he to complain, anyway? He's not the one who's lost any fingers!" Mrs. Connell cut her off, "If he's so concerned, let him shove his hand through the grinder! Then he'd really have something to whine about!"
Spectra withheld a gasp as she stared at Mrs. Connell from behind the stone staircase she hid behind.
She couldn't remember a time where she heard Mrs. Connell be so mean. The petite brunette was normally a kind, well rounded woman, always inviting Spectra and her mother over for tea at her tiny house and known around town for her green thumb and the massive rose garden she was always adding to. Her and her husband didn't have much, but they seemed happy. To hear her be so sharp tongued- Spectra would be better convinced if this were a doppelganger she were seeing right now.
From the way she saw Chloris take a step back, a hand to her chest and the high gasp that came from her, she could tell her mother felt the same way.
"Beryl, for goodness' sake, that's why Hugo and them are doing this in the first place!" Spectra watched as her mother's hands balled into fists, "So nothing like that happens again! For god's sake, you saw the poor boy who got injured last week! What if it had been Arthur who'd been hurt? Or your son?!"
"Well, he got money to pay his medical bills, didn't he?" Mrs. Connell argued back, "So I fail to see how this is such 'unfair' treatment that your husband is arguing against. No, all I see is someone who doesn't want to work for his income, so he wants to bring everyone else down in his little tantrum!"
"Beryl-"
"No," Mrs. Connell snapped, "Just…just stay away from us! My husband is a good worker, he doesn't need to worry about this!"
With that, she turned around sharply and marched away. Chloris held out a hand.
"Beryl, wait! Beryl!"
It was obvious that the brunette wouldn't hear another word, though, as she stalked away without so much as a second glance. Spectra watched her grow smaller as she retreated up the street, before she disappeared into the busy crowd up ahead. Chloris just stood there, presumably watching her go.
Slowly creeping out from her hiding spot, Spectra clutched the packages closer to her chest. She took a hesitant towards her mother's back, before she slowly walked up to her.
"Mother..?"
Chloris turned. She jumped slightly at seeing Spectra being so close, her face paling slightly.
"Oh, Spectra, darling!" she exclaimed, "I didn't know you were nearby!"
She looked down at the wrapped boxes in her hands. "Oh, are those your father's packages? Good, you finally got them. He was waiting for the day he could finally get them in."
It was clearly an attempt to divert the subject, but Spectra would not be so easily swayed. She looked up to her mother with a grim expression.
"Mother," she repeated, "Is…is everything all right? With….with Father?"
She didn't miss the way Chloris' eyes widened. The latter's mouth went in a flat line, and she stared at Spectra for several seconds, her eyes unreadable.
"…Yes, dear," she finally responded, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Spectra's ear, "Everything is okay. You'll see. There's nothing to worry about."
Spectra didn't know who Chloris was trying to convince more, her or herself.
"So what do you think?...Spectra?"
The blue-eyed girl suddenly lifted her head. "Hmm?"
Celeste frowned. "I asked what you thought of it all?"
"Of…what?"
"About the rumors of the bakery, of course!" Celeste repeated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You know, how Harry was saying that the baker's taken a mistress and apparently expecting a child?"
"Oh, that….I…I didn't hear that," Spectra admitted, looking down at the ground in embarrassment at her zoning out.
Celeste pouted. Mary, who walked with them on Spectra's opposite side, looked at her with concern.
"Is everything all right, Spectra?" she asked, "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."
Spectra sighed, looking down at the mud that lightly coated the tips of her boots.
It sure felt that way.
After having spent the last few days pondering over what she heard her parents discuss, the scene of the argument between her mom and Mrs. Connell replaying over in her head like a broken record, Spectra began to feel dread bloom in her gut. Though she was initially excited to hear this dramatic rumor, to know that her father was towing the line at the company, as time went on, and the more she thought about it, the more Spectra found herself feeling nothing but worry and fear. Her parents were still unaware she knew, but as they continued to whisper behind closed doors, the talk of the union's plans and her father discussing secret meetings with his fellow members made her fearful. This wasn't just juicy gossip; this was something that could be a potential recipe for the worst kind of disaster.
She didn't miss the way that Mrs. Connell had seemed to pointedly ignore her, acting like she was seeing right through Spectra when she passed her right on the street, or like she heard nothing the few times Spectra had called out to her.
If one of Mother and Papa's closest friends was this quick to disown their friendship, then she couldn't imagine how it would be when the superiors found out about this union.
And honestly, it made Spectra fear for her father's life.
"I'm just…tired," she finally responded, clutching her books tighter to her chest. "It's been…a bit long of a week."
"It has been rather slow, what with everyone getting anxious about the upcoming holiday," Mary agreed.
Celeste nodded as well, giving Spectra a sympathetic look and lightly patting her on the shoulder.
"Well, please don't stress yourself," she advised, "After all, the last thing we need is for our best detective to fall asleep on the job!"
Spectra gave her a small, grateful smile, which Celeste returned with a grin, showing off chipped teeth and a missing space on her bottom left. Mary also gave one, though hers was closed mouth, the apples of her cheeks bright pink like tulips.
Celeste looked ahead, and the grin melted right off her face as shock overcame her features.
"Hey, Spectra," she said, "Isn't…isn't that the mill your dad works at?"
Spectra's brows furrowed. "What?"
The three came to a stop, and she followed where her friend pointed, light blue eyes landing on a large pale building where a noticeably large crowd of people had gathered. She noticed a few policemen on the scene, keeping the crowds back as multiple people craned their necks and tried looking over shoulders to see what was going on.
Spectra felt her heart stop.
She recognized that building all too well.
"Papa…" she said breathlessly.
The twins looked at her in worry.
Celeste raised her hand. "Spectra-?"
"PAPA!" Spectra shouted, dropping her books as she burst forward, grabbing at the edges of her skirt to keep from tripping as she ran towards the crowd, an icy wave of fear running down her spine.
The twins shouted after her, taking off behind her.
Please don't be what I think happened, Spectra thought to herself as she raced to the crowd, slipping in through the few spaces and trying to push her way through. Please be okay, please don't let this fantasy be true.
She grunted as she shoved her way to the front, trying to look over other citizens' shoulders as she drew closer, feeling frustration overtake her fear as she realized her view was blocked by top hats and other women's hairstyles, the heels of their boots also giving the others a good few inches or so on her.
Finally, Spectra stumbled forward as she got through the crowd, standing up straight and looking around desperately.
Her eyes widened at the site of seeing a large group of men dressed similarly standing outside the mill- many of their faces quite familiar- some sitting down, others talking amongst each other, while others paced back and forth. All of them wore grim, pale expressions, many of them losing eye contact and staring at the first thing that caught their attention.
Spectra felt her heart leap into her throat as she looked around. Please don't be what I think it is, Please don't be what I think it is…
Her eyes landed on a familiar tall man with reddish brown hair. He looked at the factory building with a broken expression, his mouth set in a frown so deep it was like hooks were pulling at the corners, his green eyes glassy and sad. His hands lay at his sides, balled into tight fists.
Relief overtook Spectra as she dashed towards him.
"Papa!"
Hugo blinked at the sound, and he turned his head. His eyes widened when he saw her approach, though he turned and held his arms out, allowing her to run into his arms, the force making the both of them stumble as Spectra wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug, burying her head into his chest.
"I was so worried!" she exclaimed, her voice getting thick as she looked up at him with teary eyes, "I saw the crowd and I recognized the mill and all I could think about was if..if…"
She broke off in a sniffle, withholding a sob as she tightened her hug. Hugo wrapped his arms around her back, gently embracing her as he put a hand on the back of her head, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.
"Shhh, my dear, it's all right," he consoled softly, "Do not trouble yourself over that big imagination of yours. I am okay, there, there."
Mary and Celeste caught up to the two of them, watching the exchange as they wore matching looks of concern. Spectra pulled away a bit, looking up at him with wide eyes that were brimming with tears.
"W-What happened?" she asked shakily.
Hugo's face became surly. He turned, keeping his arms around her as he looked back towards the mill.
"There was an accident," he said, "One of the men I work with…Jonathan Pendleton- you remember him, right? He was at your birthday party- he…he was trying to repair one of the machines- i-i-it had stopped working and they didn't want to let it stay broken, loss of good money and time, you know? S-So he was trying to do that, but…b-but then it started back up…"
Spectra's eyes widened to the size of coins as she stared up at her father in horror. Hugo kept his gaze on the mill, but he had noticeably gone quite pale; his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed with what looked like great difficulty.
She looked over her shoulder. The twins stared back, both of them staring with open mouths in horror.
Spectra swallowed hard. She leaned further into her father's embrace, trying to keep the horrifying images that her mind was suddenly creating out of her head.
Dinner that night was a quiet affair.
Silence permeated the room, broken by only the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the sitting room and the slight clinking of utensils against plates. Tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating like a wagon full of sheered sheep's wool.
Spectra squirmed as she looked between her parents. Hugo had severe bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in a century; he had his elbows up on the table, his fingers laced together and his mouth resting on them as he stared ahead blankly. Chloris looked down at her soup, ladling some of it onto her soup before letting it spill back in; her brow was crinkled as she looked at the various things on the table. Neither of them had eaten much, their still full plates growing cold.
Looking down at her soup, Spectra found she couldn't muster up much of an appetite, either. Her thoughts were consumed with what her father had told her. Poor Mr. Pendleton.
Images of gallons of blood on the floor, of a random arm turning into the gears of the machine like a worm navigating self made tunnels in the mud, of him most likely wailing around with nothing more than a bloody stump, where torn muscle and shattered bone and blood dripped; her mind making the sound be that like ripping fabric-
Spectra felt her stomach lurch. She swallowed hard, trying fight down the taste of bile burning the back of her throat.
"May I be excused?" she asked, any semblance of wanting to eat now completely gone.
They looked at her, as if they had forgotten she was there.
Hugo stared at her for a moment, before glancing down to her barely touched food. Something that seemed like pity shined in his eyes, and with a sad smile, he nodded to her.
"Yes, dear," he said, "Just please put away your dishes before you do."
Doing as she was told, Spectra gave them a both a kiss before she started up the stairs. Up in her room, she sat at her desk, her journal out in front of her; though she could regularly fill pages upon pages a night based on the latest rumors she had heard around town, tonight Spectra could find no energy to even pick up her pen, the slightly crinkled paper remaining blank as she stared at it. Thoughts swirled around in her head like a hurricane, the day's events playing over and over again, weighing on her heavily and making the pain in her chest grow.
That could've been Papa in that machine-
Stop, she told herself.
She didn't want to go there, didn't want to think bout 'what-ifs' and 'maybes' and 'if onlys'.
All she knew was now she understood her father and his friends' demand for a union more than ever.
She suddenly blinked as she heard a heavy knock come from downstairs. Spectra furrowed her brows, looking at the clock on her desk.
The hands read that it was a quarter to nine. Who could it be at this hour?
She heard the door open, the sound of Papa asking who the person was only faintly heard through the floorboards. A second voice, one Spectra didn't recognized, answered much louder, joy heavy in its tone. It sounded masculine.
Spectra frowned. Were they expecting someone? Didn't seem likely- with all that had happened over the last few weeks, she would've presumed both of them to be much too overwhelmed to entertain guests.
She strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn't make out any words.
Shrugging, she turned back to her journal, deciding that a little story planning might do her good. As she reached for her pen out of its holder, though, her elbow accidentally brushed her inkwell, knocking it over. Instantly, ink spilled over the desk.
"Damn!" Spectra hissed, shooting out of her chair. She grabbed her journal, yanking off before any inch of the black substance could touch it. she righted the inkwell up, but it was too late, as ink started dripping off the edge of the desk, getting onto the floor.
Spectra cringed, gritting her teeth at the sight of the mess. This was not turning out to be her night.
Groaning, she set her journal on her bed and headed for the door. Spectra prayed that she was able to get a towel before her mother suspected something had happened.
As she descended the stairs, she heard a commotion in the dining room.
"….you've probably heard of the…terrible occurrence that happened later today-"
"Of course I know. I was there," her father's sharp voice cut the speaker off.
Spectra paused on the stairs.
There was a moment of silence, before the unknown voice- presumably whoever had been at the door- coughed.
"Mmmm, yes, of course," the voice- a man's- cleared his throat, before continuing, "Well, that saves me time. I'm sure it's no secret we are all devastated at the loss. Jonathan was a good man."
Spectra frowned. She kept silent as she continued down the stairs, getting to the bottom and starting for the kitchen.
She passed the sitting room; she turned her head to see her mother inside, sitting at the sofa reading a book. Or, at least trying to emulate it, based on the way Spectra noted she seemed stuck on the same page and how her eyes kept sliding to the corners as she listened to the conversation in the dining room.
Heading into the kitchen, Spectra made sure to keep out of sight of the doorway of the dining room, though she allowed herself a brief glance from the mirror that was positioned on the wall near it.
She could see her father's back in its reflection. He sat at the table.
A man sat across from him. One whom Spectra didn't recognize. He was quite old- about fifties or sixties- tall, and brawny; a crisp white shirt and burgundy waistcoat looked perfectly tailor to his wide shoulders. His dark blonde hair was combed backward, looking like it was one big piece with his neatly trimmed beard and mustache. There was a gold brooch on his label, with what looked like a real emerald set in it. His lined face was smiling as he talked to her father.
"Well, if it wasn't already apparent, Hugo, this is definitely something that is going to have a great affect on the company," he said, "There's been a great uproar about the workers' safety, talk of possibly getting the law involved. Some have even said that they might consider a boycott. Rumors of a strike. You may have heard these?"
Spectra froze. Her skin prickled. Her fingernails buried themselves into the cloth towel she had grabbed.
Oh. So that's why he was here.
Her heartbeat started to pick up.
What did he want? Was Papa going to lose his job now? Was that the purpose of this visit? To let him know the higher-ups were onto his little group and that they were now going to be terminated?
The silence that stretched throughout the house clued her in that her father seemed to be feeling the same.
When Hugo finally responded, his voice sounded strained. Whether it was to keep panic or anger out of his voice, she couldn't tell.
"…Why do you ask?" he questioned.
"Oh, I'm trying to accuse you of anything here, Hugo. We're friends here after all," the man replied, "It's just that the foremen may be concerned if such behavior was going on. Such practices could threaten the company's profits. From their perspective, they may find it a bit…treacherous, when the people they gave employment to might be going behind their backs."
"Funny, because I find it a little treacherous that a company whose workers are those responsible for keeping it afloat would allow them to just get mutilated and killed on the shift," Hugo spat venomously.
Spectra smirked, curling her lips in to silence her giggle. Give it to him, Papa, she encouraged silently.
The man responded, "Well, now, that is a bit harsh, don't you think? After all, the company is only trying to keep everyone's best interests in mind-"
"And yet they have not batten a lash when their workers lose limbs. Repeatedly."
Silence.
Spectra's shoulders bounced up and down as she chuckled; she held the towel to her mouth to muffle her giggle.
"Mr. Vondergeist, I'm not trying to-"
"Mr. Fitzgerald, pardon me, but what is the reason for this visit?" Hugo asked, "I have quite a bit to get done tonight, and if all you're going to do is relay to me things that I already know as someone who works for the mill, if you have nothing else to offer, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
A moment of quiet, before Spectra heard the blond man sigh.
"I see," he replied, "Well, then how much?"
"How much of what?" Hugo asked.
"How much to keep this whole thing between us? To keep the news of Mr. Pendleton's death away from the public eye?"
Spectra's mouth dropped open. She turned around, staring at the corner of the doorway in shock. There was a hiss from the sitting room from her mother; Spectra could tell she was equally shocked and disgusted at the proposal.
"I-I beg your pardon?!" Hugo questioned in disbelief.
"A couple hundred? A thousand? Maybe ten thousand?" "Mr. Fitzgerald" listed off, "Name your price, and we'll be happy to provide it. All we ask is that nobody ever learn of this misfortune-"
"How dare you!" Hugo declared.
Spectra jumped slightly at the sound of his chair scraping the floor. She looked back to the mirror, watching as he shot up from his seat, glaring down at Fitzgerald with his fists balled.
"That man was my friend, and because of your company's incompetence and disregard for our safety, he died horrifically, with his pregnant wife being a widow, and you want to bribe me to try and keep quiet?! You are a godless man!" he spat.
The blonde held his hands up, looking surprised at the outburst. It was quickly replaced with a stern glare, his bearded mouth turning downward into a frown.
"Now, Mr. Vondergeist, I strongly encourage you to think this through," he said, with the same tone like a teacher talking to a child being disciplined, "Several other works of this little 'union' of yours have taken this generous offer. What happened to Jonathan Pendleton was horrible, but do think of what you're putting at risk: after all, I doubt many would share your attempts at being heroic if they learned that it may put them out of employment."
Hugo didn't reply, but instead marched around the table. Through the mirror, Spectra saw him walk through the kitchen doorway to the front door, yanking it open. He gestured to it, his face dark.
"Please leave," he said curtly, glaring at Mr. Fitzgerald.
The larger blonde man stared back at him, the two engaging in a silent stare before the former sighed again, his shoulders dropping as he shrugged.
"It seems we won't be reaching a compromise tonight," he said, "I'm sorry that I couldn't convince you to change your mind."
He stood up from the table, walking to where Hugo stood. The shorter man walked over to the rack, grabbing what was presumably Fitzergerald's coat and holding it out to him impatiently.
"Yes, well I'm sorry that I couldn't see the truth of the men who own this establishment," he said, "I'll make sure to hand in my resignation letter tomorrow at the very earliest, for your convenience."
Mr. Fitzgerald nodded as he took his coat. "Yes, that would be the best course of action."
Not even bothering to wish the man a good night, Hugo walked away without another glance, starting to make his way back into the kitchen.
Spectra noticed how the blonde man just stood there, messing with something under his coat; he made no move to put it on or to walk out.
Instead, to her confusion, he actually shut the front door, looking towards Hugo as he shuffled some papers on the table, his back turned to the blonde.
Something in her gut twisted as he started stalking towards her father, something eerie and sinister in his blue eyes, which were quite cold.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this, Mr. Vondergeist," Fitzgerald said dejectedly, "You were one of the good ones."
Spectra furrowed her brows. What was that supposed to mean?
Hugo, hearing the man, made a similar face. He started turning.
"What are you talking-"
Fitzgerald pulled something from his jacket.
He held it up, and it glinted in the light.
It was something metal, with a pointed end. A knife.
Before Spectra could even comprehend it- could even understand what was going on, make sense of the scene that she was watching play out in the mirror- Fitzgerald rushed at her father.
He reached out from behind and grabbed Hugo by his collar-
-Before shooting forward with the hand that held the knife and burying it into his back.
Spectra's mouth fell open in horror. She barely registered the towel dropping from her hands.
"AAARGH!" Hugo shouted, his eyes squeezing shut from the pain. He grit his teeth, the cords in his neck bulging.
Fitzgerald pulled the knife back- the tip now dark red- before he plunged it in again.
And again. And again.
He ripped it out after the fourth time, loosening his hold. Hugo dropped to the ground in an instant, falling onto his front like he were a rag doll. The blonde man stared down at him, shaking his head.
"The company has a way of keeping people quiet, one way or another."
"PAPA!" Spectra screamed, running from the kitchen.
She bolted from the dining room, dropping down to her knees. Her hands hovered above him like she were afraid of touching him; her breathing went ragged at the giant holes that now tore through his vest and shirt and dug into his back. Blood bloomed from them like flowers, staining and spreading across the once pristine fabric. Hugo didn't move, his head remaining down as he lie there. Spectra whimpered, tears filling her eyes.
She looked up at Fitzgerald, her blood running cold at the lack of emotion in his eyes. He stared down at her, slightly shadowed from the light behind him, looking like a giant bear that had cornered a helpless rabbit. He gave her a smile that looked almost pitying.
"Oh, my dear, I'm sorry you had to see this," he said, "But there are consequences when one doesn't do what they're told."
Spectra whimpered, falling onto her rear as she scooted away from her father's body. She sobbed as she felt her back hit the cupboard. She was trapped.
Fitzgerald started to advance on her-
"GET AWAY FROM HER!"
Fitzgerald's mirthful expression turned to surprise as he suddenly felt himself shove forward, making Spectra scream again as he momentarily got closer to her. He stumbled into the kitchen, losing his footing as he went sideways. He dropped the knife to claw at his throat.
Chloris hung onto his back, a ribbon clutched tightly in her hands as she used it for a makeshift garrote, choking him. She pulled back against him, trying to further cut his airway off as her legs swung back and forth, kicking desperately to try and find a firm hold. Fitzgerald clawed at his throat, fingers digging in to try and put space between it and the ribbon as he slammed against the wall, trying to throw her off.
Spectra, still backed up into the cupboard, watched with horror. She reached out as Fitzgerald stumbled into the opposite wall, turning so he could slam Chloris backwards into it again.
She hissed, baring through the pain as she pulled her arms towards her, tightening her chokehold. Fitzgerald went forward, his hands digging into hers as he swung her sideways, making her hit her head against the mantlepiece. Chloris shouted in pain.
"MOTHER!" Spectra screeched.
Chloris looked at her over the struggle, her pale blue eyes wide with fear.
"Spectra, run!" she commanded, "Get help!"
Spectra's eyes widened. She couldn't leave her. "But-"
"GO!" Chloris screamed, gritting her teeth as she struggled to keep her grip on the ribbon. Fitzgerald suddenly threw himself back, making the both of them bang against the stove. Chloris yelled out as the sharp corner jabbed her in the side, sending excruciating pain through her ribs; for a moment, she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Spectra felt adrenaline course through her veins as she watched the situation at hand. She didn't want to leave her mother, but instinct was telling her to get out of the house as soon as possible.
She looked at her father's body, her stomach rolling. She bit her lip as she looked at the front door.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, before she shot to her feet and started for the doorway.
She didn't get far, though, before she slipped as she felt something grab hold of her dress skirt. Spectra looked over her shoulder in horror to see that Fitzgerald, having seen her intentions, ran forward as best as he could with Chloris still hanging on to him, and got a hold of her hem; he yanked her back, making her feet slip out from under her and causing her to fall hard onto her front. Spectra cried out at the pain in her knees that shot through her entire legs as they smacked right into the floor.
Despite Chloris still wrestling the ribbon around his neck, Fitzgerald grabbed ahold of her ankle, pulling her towards him; his face was beet red as the oxygen flow cut off, and he grunted like a pig as he tried to loosen the pressure of the ribbon. Spectra thrashed, her other foot banging against the floor; she dug her nails into the hardwood, scratch marks appearing in them as he pulled her farther back.
"No!" Chloris exclaimed when she saw that the monster had gotten ahold of her daughter.
Throwing herself forward with a newfound strength, she let one hand go of the ribbon to grab his face, dragging her nails into his cheek as she whipped her head to the side and bit his ear.
"AGH!" Fitzgerald yelled, losing his hold.
Spectra kicked back as she got her leg free, hitting him in the shin. Her palms smacked against the floor as she got back to her feet. Turning so that her back faced the wall, she watched as Chloris took her other hand to grab his face, clawing down his chin. Her started to pull her head away, her teeth drawing blood as she clenched them closer into the thin flesh.
Fitzgerald screamed, his hands trying to grab at hers and tear them away to no avail.
Spectra backed up, swallowing.
As Fitzgerald spun them around, Chloris, still biting into his ear, looked at her, the two making eye contact. Despite the fear and desperation Spectra could see in her mother's blue gaze, there was also one thing, a silent command Chloris gave her.
Run.
Spectra swallowed, her throat dry. Her lip quivered, a fresh wave of tears running down her cheeks.
I'm so sorry, Mother, she repeated in her head.
She whipped around. Stepping over her father's body, she fumbled with the doorknob until it flung open, and bolted down porch steps. Her feet made pounding sounds on the concrete as she hurried down them, before leaping off and making a run for it.
There was a yell of pain from inside the house from her mother, and Spectra turned around.
Chloris lay in the entrance to the sitting room, looking dazed as she lay on her back. Fitzgerald stood above her, one of her ceramic figurines in his hand. He glared down at her with a look of absolute hate, his bright red with anger as his disheveled hair stuck out in all directions. He spat something at Chloris, before he raised the figurine above his head. Spectra's eyes widened.
She made herself look away just as he brought it down on her mother, tears streaking her cheeks as she ran for the nearest house.
"HELP!" she screamed as she banged on the door, "PLEASE, SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!"
She bashed on the door with both fists, looking back between her house and this one, afraid that any second, Fitzgerald would burst through the open doorway and find her.
However, there was nothing but silence from the other side. Surely someone would've had to have heard her, wouldn't they?
"HELP!" she screamed again, "PLEASE!"
Silence. The windows remained dark.
Knowing she couldn't afford to stay, Spectra ran off the porch, making a ploy for the next house. Again, no response even as she pounded on the doors, screamed herself hoarse, and pulled the knob. As if the other residents had just suddenly vanished.
"Open up, open up, open up, please," she sobbed as she banged on the door. She rested her forehead, her shoulders bouncing up and down. Fat tears rolled down her nose and off her cheeks. She looked up at the darkened windows.
"Please help me," she whispered.
Realizing that she was on her own, Spectra wept as she forced herself to go down the porch steps and run to the next house.
She was running out of time. She could feel herself wearing down, her limbs screaming out in exhaustion and her lungs and throat burning from the deprivation of oxygen. Snot filled her nose and hindered her breathing. She could hardly see in the dark. Sweat made her hair stick to her forehead and her clothes feel unbearably roasting.
You're almost there, she tried to tell herself, This one will have to have people, they'll HAVE to have heard you screaming, how could they not? Just a few more steps. Just a few more-
Something struck her shins, and Spectra felt herself fly forward as her feet went completely out from under her. The wind was knocked out her as she slid forward a few inches, and Spectra saw stars as her chin hit the pavement, making her teeth clack together loudly. She groaned, wheezing as she pushed herself onto her elbows.
A hand suddenly nestled into her hair, grabbing a handful of it, and Spectra screamed as she was suddenly yanked backwards. Her hands flew to her head, grabbing at the hand that was pulling at her roots.
She met the angry eyes of Fitzgerald, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.
The blonde's face was bloody, several long thin gashes running across his face. His ear was bleeding, small puncture wounds in the shape of teeth engraved into the shell. There were small dots of blood on the collar of his shirt, and an angry red line that was already starting to bruise ran across the length of his thick throat. In his other hand, he clenched the bloody knife tightly.
Before Spectra could even so much as kick him, Fitzgerald marched towards the side of the house, dragging her as she kicked by her hair; Spectra struggled, a scream of pain ripping through her throat as he stopped and pulled her up front.
They were standing in front of a barrel full of rain water.
The question of what he planned on doing with it had barely formed in Spectra's mind, before Fitzgerald suddenly shoved her head forward, dunking it under the water.
Spectra screamed as she was held there, the water silencing her and sending little bubbles up from the surface. The freezing water stung her face, blurring her eyesight. She kicked against the side of the barrel and the ground, flailing against his grip. Her hands found purchased at the barrel's edges and she tried to push herself up, only to feel Fitzgerald force her head into the water further.
Her lungs burned, a pressure building up as the deprivation of air suffocated them. Black spots occurred in her vision, and Spectra screamed again.
Before she could pass out, Spectra was wrenched from the water. She gasped for breath, coughing as she involuntarily swallowed some of the water that got into her mouth, her hair sticking to her face; she could barely see as she blinked the water from her eyes, her vision stinging.
There was hot breath in her ear.
Something hard and cold was placed against her throat
"Sorry it was to be this way, my dear," Fitzgerald whispered menacingly, not sounding the least bit sorry, "But when people upset the balance, they must be removed."
Spectra sniveled.
"Please, don't do this! P-P-Please-"
Her words died as he jerked his arm across her neck.
There was a stinging, unbearable pain in her throat and her chest.
Spectra tasted blood as it filled her mouth; something warm splashed and soaked the front of her already damp collar.
She couldn't breathe.
He let her go, and her hands went to her throat as she collapsed.
Spectra choked, blood pouring from her mouth and between her fingers as she bled out. Her diaphragm felt she had a massive weight on her chest as she tried to wheeze for air that would not enter her lungs. The only thing that came from her mouth was gurgles as blood filled her trachea. She jerked, trying to will the pain away.
She looked up at the night sky, finding Fitzgerald standing over her, watching her. His eyes flashed with malicious joy as a playful smile came onto his face, like he was a boy who had won the race and had been awarded an array of chocolates. Behind him, the night sky was alive with a flurry of stars.
Spectra saw her vision blur; she felt herself go numb all over.
No, she begged, Please. Not like this…
She reached up at the sky with a bloody hand, her fingers flexing as her arm shook. Her sight began to fade, Fitzgerald and the stars growing dimmer.
No…
She couldn't feel anything anymore. Couldn't hear anything anymore.
Tears welled up in her eyes as the blackness creeping into her vision grew, until, with her arm falling right at her side, Spectra felt herself fade from reality entirely.
"….Tra…."
"…Spe…."
For a moment, she knew nothing. Felt nothing.
"…Ectra…"
There was a small noise; a faint one. She couldn't decipher who it was or what it was saying, but she heard it ever so slightly.
"S…pectra…"
Consciousness starting coming upon her, and her eyelids fluttered.
"Spectra!"
Slowly, she opened her eyes. At first, she saw darkness, her mind fuzzy.
Then, it all came rushing back.
A sharp gasp escaped her throat as she sat up, clawing at her throat. Spectra panted, tears filling her eyes.
She couldn't feel a wound… was it a dream then? But it felt so real, there was no way her imagination think up something so awful and horrendous….But all those events…
Hands touched her shoulders, and she screamed, slapping at whoever it was. What if it was Fitzgerald coming back to hurt her more?
"Get away!" she commanded, kicking her feet out.
"Spectra, Spectra, calm down, it's me!"
She froze, recognizing the voice instantly. Her hands dug into thick sleeves. She looked up.
Her eyes widened at the sight, and a fresh new fear overcame her. Her mouth dropped open.
"P-P-Papa?" she asked in disbelief.
It looked like her father; same long nose, same round chin and freckles.
Except his skin was translucent. And not even translucent in the sense that his veins were greatly visible, but actually see-through, like he was made up of nothing but gossamer. His skin was an eerie milky white, like he was sculpted from marble. Hugo's hair had lost any shade of brown, and instead was now a bright crimson; so bright, in fact, it was almost glowing. His once green irises were now the color of rust, and the whites of his eyes were now oxblood. His clothes, Spectra realized, were the same ones he was wearing that same night, only now they now were various hues of red and orange.
Spectra furrowed her brows when she realized that he also wore several lengths of chain around his waist and over his shoulders, the ends of which were somehow floating like they were bubbles.
Shaking her head as she re-examined every detail, Spectra looked up at him.
"Papa, I-I-I don't understand," she said, "W-What happened to you? Where are we?"
"I don't know," Hugo said, "I've been like this since I woke up. Your mother was the same way when I found her."
Spectra's head perked up. She gripped her father's sleeves tighter, "Mother's here? Where?! So that does that mean she's okay? Does that mean-"
She paused, suddenly hesitant to ask, like if she vocalized it, it would automatically be true.
"Hugo, did you find- Spectra!"
Her head shot up at the sound of her mother's voice, and she turned, eyes widening.
Her heart filled with relief at the sight of her mother, but just like her father, confusion and shock accompanied it at her mother's new appearance.
Chloris had a strange glow to her as she ran towards them. Her facial features and dressware remained the same as they were that day, only now her black hair had become a strange shade of baby blue, her dress a mixture of similar shades of blue; she was translucent, though her face had a noticeable blue tinge to it, her crystal blue eyes backed by sclera that was a darker blue. Chains hung down from her waist and off her bust like a skirt of some sorts.
As her eyes landed on Spectra, her face lit up, and she glided towards them, wrapping Spectra up in her arms.
"Oh, Spectra!" she exclaimed as she held her tightly to her chest, "I'm so glad you're okay! Oh, I was so worried."
Spectra's vision blurred as her eyes welled with tears, and she was momentarily distracted from her confusion as she hugged her mother back.
"Oh, Mama, I was so scared," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry for leaving you, I didn't mean to. I was so, so scared."
"Shhh, shhh, my little swallow, there is nothing to apologize. I'm right here. There, there, Mama's here."
She cooed softly to her daughter as she rocked Spectra gently. Hugo moved to embrace the both of them, holding them to his chest. For a moment, they all sat there, happy to just know that they were still together.
But did…did that mean…that what happened actually happened?
Lifting her head, Spectra took the chance to observe where they were.
It was some kind of void, no form of architecture, person, or animal in sight; Just swirls upon swirls of some strange turquoise mist. It made Spectra nervous.
What was this place? How did they get here?
"Papa?" she asked, pulling away, "What is this place?"
Hugo looked around, shaking his head.
"I'm not sure," he answered, "There doesn't seem to be anything here, but…emptiness."
Spectra bit her lip, not sure if this was meant to be taken as a good sign or not. With the former, considering the events that had just transpired, it certainly didn't feel that way.
"So does that mean…" she said hesitantly, "That…that…Mr. Fitzgerald…the house…it…it happened?"
They stared at her grimly, neither looking like they wanted to answer her.
"The Vondergeist Family. It is time."
The three of them jumped at the sudden voice that boomed from seemingly everywhere. They broke apart and looked around, trying to locate the source.
"Who's there?" Hugo asked warily.
"Your lives as mortals have ended, and you are no longer bound to the human realm by earthly means. It is time to cross."
They looked to the right. Spectra felt her mother hold onto her tightly, her father standing in front of the both of them in an attempt to shield them from any possible danger.
A shadowy figure stood among the swirls, the whispy tendrils snaking around them like a vines on a tree.
It began to approach; the three of them got to their feet, stepping back in fear as it came closer.
As it broke from the swirls, Spectra could see no defining features on the person, them being covered by what looked like a long black cloak. It held some sort of staff in its hand as it held its arm out to its side.
As the figure got closer, she was shocked to realize that it was a scythe.
"The Fates have come to a decision, and they have decided that now is when you leave this Earth and cross over to the Spirit realm where you belong," they declared, their voice distorted and non distinguishable from male and female.
Spectra grabbed onto her father's arm. The person's words repeated themselves in her head, and something clicked.
"Who are you?" Hugo asked, "What do you want?"
"I am here to deliver you from this world. You're earthly ties are no more, you have a place among the living no more," the person answered.
"A-A-Are you saying we're…we're dead?" Spectra asked.
Hugo and Chloris gawked at her, but she kept her eyes on the cloaked figure as it drew nearer. To her surprise, its hooded face gave a curt nod. It reached out and pointed at her, its sleeve falling away to reveal a skeletal arm, no flesh or tissue present on it at all.
"Yes," it answered, "You have met your fate, and it is time to move on. You have landed here in Purgatory, and I am here to help guide you to the other side."
"You're the Grim Reaper," Chloris stated emotionlessly.
"I am one of many," the figure replied, "And I am here to help bring you over. Come, it is time to go."
"W-Where are you going to take us?" Hugo asked.
The reaper gestured with its bony hand.
The family gasped and step back as a brilliant light suddenly flashed, blinding them. Spectra held her arms up to shield her face until the light faded. When it did, she looked over her arms, before jumping back at the sight of a large ship now standing before them.
They gazed upon it with astonishment, before Spectra looked back at the reaper. She couldn't see its face, but she had the feeling it was staring back upon her as well.
"What about…what about the man who's why we're here?" Hugo suddenly asked, "That man, he…he murdered us! He committed an ultimate sin! What's going to happen to him?"
"The fate of your executor is not of my concern, Hugo Vondergeist," the reaper replied, "Nor is it my responsibility to see to it what becomes of him now. My concern is to bring you and your family over to the other side."
Hugo and Chloris shared a look.
"What…what if we don't want to go?" Chloris asked, "What if we want to see whether or not we get justice?"
"You do not have a choice," the figure responded, "You are not of Earthly flesh any longer, you have no place in the Human world. If you choose to disobey, there will be dire consequences."
The whole time the reaper spoke, its tone remained the same, but at its answer, Spectra noticed both her parents stiffen up. Now where have heard that before? She thought bitterly.
Her father looked at her, an unsure expression. Spectra looked back at him. He looked at her mother, sharing a look with her, a short silent conversation occurring between the two of them.
Sighing, Hugo took both of their hands.
"Okay, we're ready."
The reaper nodded.
"Good. Come now."
The apparent "Ghost World" was not at all what Spectra had been expecting.
She looked out, taking in the sight she saw.
A packed city was laid out in front of them, tall buildings and shops made of what looked like iron and stone put together in neat rows as cobblestone streets stretched out between them. People- other ghosts- went about on them, looking like average citizens on an average day.
Expect…none of them were walking.
Thinking at first her eyes were deceiving her, Spectra rubbed them and blink. But no, she saw what she saw. Everyone was floating, hovering at least a foot off the ground as they leaned forward slightly, moving weightlessly through the air like dandelion seeds.
In fact, as Spectra observed, nothing was touching the ground; except for the architecture, any furniture or wheelbarrows or objects were also floating, bobbing up and down like buoys on the sea. Everything also had a strange blue illumination to it, giving everyone an unearthly glow to their semiopaque figures.
The strangest feature of all, though, was the fact that like her and her parents, everyone had chains draped across their figures, links rattling behind them and swaying with their movements.
The reaper had told them on the boat that there was a building nearby they could go to; there, someone would help get them acquainted, show them the ways of this world, find them a place of residency, and help get them school and work if they wished to pursue those things still. Everything to help get them settled in.
Settled in. Like they were simply moving to a new city.
Like they were still alive. As if they hadn't just been murdered in their own house by her father's own co-worker.
Like it was just going to be that easy.
A pang of bitterness came over Spectra.
And they wouldn't even get to know if Fitzgerald and the mill owners were ever going to face punishment.
The reaper had made that very clear on their voyage. The two worlds remained separate as a way to maintain balance between the worlds of the living and the dead, it had explained, separated by a series of "portals" that could only be accessed by a select few when it was appropriate. The reaper was one of them, but apparently some could be opened when certain conflicts arose. However, those times were often few and far between.
Thus, as they had officially crossed over to this realm, they were to never go back to the human realm.
"To do so is to upset the balance," the reaper had said, "And the gods do not take very kindly to those who choose the upset the balance for their own selfish desires."
It hadn't stated it outright, but it was very clear there was an underlying threat in that statement.
"So this is it," Chloris said sadly as they looked around the town, "This is…where we are to be for all eternity."
"What…what do we do now?" Spectra asked.
She looked down at her feet. It seemed that her body had quickly adapted to this defying of gravity, and she was now floating off the ground like everyone else was. Like she had suddenly become lighter than air in this strange world.
The other ghosts who moved about paid them no mind, going about their day doing whatever constituted as normal in this place.
Hugo sighed, "…I guess we go where it…told us to go."
They all looked ahead. A few blocks down, there was a building near the corner. In front of it stood a large statue of a woman with angel wings who was pointing to its front doors.
New arrivals, come here, said the sign hanging from her arm.
They all shared a look, before they leaned forward, floating into the crowd and preparing for whatever awaited them.
Passing by a window of a shop, Spectra paused at something in the reflection. She turned, finally able to get a good look at herself.
The face that stared back was definitely not one that she recognized. Blue eyes set against a grey backdrop stared back at her, with skin the color alabaster making her high cheekbones stick out even more, while hair that was once black now glowed a dark violet that was almost the same shade as her dress. Silver chains decorated her bust and arms like some sort of mock jewelry.
Spectra raised a hand at her reflection, staring at it as she took in its transparency, like it were made of clear glass.
There was hardly any semblance of the human girl she had been just a few hours prior remaining in this new image.
A reminder that this life she had was no longer her own, not anymore.
She sighed sadly, holding back tears as she turned away, floating back to where her parents waited. Hugo put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but it hardly helped.
Silently, the family continued, wondering what was in store for this new "afterlife" of theirs.
A hundred and sixty-seven years later…
It was funny to Spectra how the mere sight of school could still stir so much anxiety and dread in her, even in death.
The grand castle of "Haunted High" looked more like some kind of grand mansion than a school, with a large winding staircase and several stories of classrooms. She stared up it, grasping her messenger bag tightly as she floated in place. Around her, students were already beginning to make their way up the staircase and into the building, some looking like they were ready to start the days, while others looked like they'd rather jump in the River Lethe.
Sighing, Spectra straightened up and leaned forward, starting to make her way inside.
It felt weird, being back at school after so long. After decades of just spending her free time roaming about, staying up in her room and writing, getting the latest scoop around their small town (what they called nosiness, she called staying aware and informed), the thought of ever going back to school and becoming swamped with boring subjects seemed almost like a joke.
But when there was news of a new school opening, her parents insisted that she go.
You never got to finish schooling during our living years, her father had said, And it will do good to find something that keeps you focused, help you make some friends.
Spectra frowned as she entered the commons area.
So what if she didn't? She hadn't even liked school when she was living (she swore to this day, that crabby headmaster was out to get her), so what was the point of going back for something you hated in the first place? It wasn't like she was ignorant of the times, either; she had her ways of keeping track of and keeping up with the latest trends and tech and other cool stuff people managed to create through the years; especially the fashion- what could she say, a girl liked to dress and impress (and goodness, had they come far from her day of frumpy dresses and skirt frames and corsets).
And she had plenty of friends…ish.
(Okay, maybe three people didn't count as a whole lot to some, and sure she hadn't really gotten acquainted with any of the ghosts around her age since she first came to the Ghost World, but it was all in the eye of the beholder, wasn't it?)
Digging into her bag, she pulled out her schedule, looking at what she had been signed up for this years. She frowned when she saw her first class of the day was mathematics.
Ew, no thanks.
Why did I agree to this? Spectra thought as she looked around, trying to see where the math room was located. Wasn't she too old for school anyway? She was over a century old, after all, wasn't there kind of a limit or something on how old you could be to still be in high school.
"…say they're letting other people transfer there. For like, no fee at all," she overheard as she passed by two female ghosts.
"Isn't travelling between the worlds forbidden, though? Like, because of all that mess with the Red Lady?"
Spectra paused; she kept her head down, only turning ever so slightly as she tuned in on the conversation.
"The Human world, yeah, but the Monster world is like, an exception or something," the first ghost reply, "I guess since they have a lot species that don't die like humans do, or something, like, it's an exception."
"I don't know," the second one said, "I mean, walking among the solids again? One that's filled with all the people from the scary stories I used to hear, no less? No thanks."
Spectra raised an eyebrow, curious.
So they had heard of this apparent "monster world" as well; there had been rumors going around of a second world- well, not really a world, but a society, rather- that had been existing for thousands of years, kept hidden from human eyes. One where the apparent monsters of the story books- living corpses like Frankenstein, fairies, vampires, werewolves- were alive and breathing, and apparently lived just like people. Only, well…creepier.
And now they're letting ghosts cross over? She thought. She knew that it was it was no longer allowed for ghosts to go to the human world to haunt houses (not that there were really a lot of portals that made that possible in the first place), but to hear they were allowed to leave the realm?
To actually walk the Earth again?
This calls for some investigating, Spectra thought, pulling out her small notebook pad and writing down what she had heard the two ghost girls talk about.
-Talk of so called 'monster world' exists
-Apparently ghosts can leave here and go there
-Conspiracy? A possible mutiny? Must investigate further
Looking briefly over her shoulder, Spectra slowly started floating to the side, intent on trying to hear more of the ghosts' conversation without making it too obvious.
BRRRRIIINNNNG!
Before she could listen in more, though, the bell rang. Within an instant, the commons filled up as everyone started floating about, rushing to get to their classes. The two ghosts she'd been listening in on grabbed their bags and departed in the opposite direction, leaving her by herself.
Spectra sighed as she slipped her pen and pad back into her pocket.
So much for getting a scoop.
Six months later…
Spectra sat on the couch, her knees pressed together and her hands gripping them as she looked between her parents. Hugo and Chloris sat on the sofa opposite from her, pressed against each other as they awaited her response.
"W-What?" Spectra asked, sure that she had misheard.
Hugo nodded, "You heard right. Your mother and I have talked it over several times, and we think it's best if we leave."
"Leave the Ghost World?" Spectra asked, "B-But where will we go? I mean, Dad, what about your job? What about school? I thought you wanted me to go Haunted High and finish my education."
"And you will," Chloris explained, "And your father and I will still be able to find work; we've actually already gone and started talking to several places of employment. We just think it's time for a different change in scenery."
"But where? I thought ghosts were forbidden from going to Earth?" Spectra asked.
Hugo explained, "The human world, yes. But there's a whole other community out there- more geared towards people like us, I guess you could say. I'm sure you've heard about it, this so-called 'monster' community?"
Spectra nodded, "A lot of kids at school talk about it, but only bits and pieces; most of them don't like the thought of interacting with 'solids', as they call them."
"Understandable. You grow so used to our abilities, it feels alien to live with people who don't have them," Chloris stated.
"Yes, well, as you know I've been trying to find a new job anyway, and there was a recent job fair in town," Hugo said, "Well, one of the offers required transferring for it, and they allowed those interested to take a tour over to the other side. Your mother and I gone over, and it, well, we think it do us all good in the end if I take it.
"…Where would 'it' be, exactly?" Spectra asked.
"Not too far off from where we originally lived; it's located in Oregon, in a city called New Salem. The monster community there, as I've been told, is quite diverse- they even have a few ghosts already living there. There's even a high school there that you could attend, one that's been around for thousands of years, dedicated to helping the monster and human communities learn more about one another and integrate."
Spectra blinked, surprised.
Another high school? Where she'd actually get to see these people- these creatures that she once thought were nothing more than fictional ideas spawned by creative minds? It sounded a little bit scary.
But also, quite tempting.
"So…what do you think?" Chloris asked.
Spectra bit her lip.
They had it good over here. The little ghostly house they lived in was small and comfy without feeling tiny; their neighborhood was nice and quiet. Haunted High could be a bit of a pain, what with all the ridiculous rules the mysterious principal had implemented, but it was kind of nice to have a schedule again and associate with other people her age (at least in the mental sense). There was also a part of her who didn't want to leave her best friend behind.
But yet…secretly, there was a part of Spectra that yearned for more.
She had never said it aloud, but honestly, living in the Ghost World was depressing.
To be truthful, she hated it.
She hated how everything always had a gloomy atmosphere to it, how there was always an air of melancholy about no matter how happy everyone tried to act, how no one talked about the one thing that they all had in common because it was considered improper, but yet they all had a twinge of sadness when they went about their day, so obviously it was still bothering them. How she felt like she could never really enjoy anything without being reminded of the reason she was in the Ghost World in the first place. How she was never supposed to talk about it, but there was this attitude that she was expected to never forget about it, because for some reason forgetfulness was seen as a bad thing.
And Spectra hated it. Absolutely despised it.
She wanted to forget.
She wanted to live.
"We're not saying you have to make a decision tonight," Hugo said, noticing her conflicted expression, "Just…give it some thought, okay?"
Spectra nodded.
Later that night, as she lay on her bed, trying to finish up her Hauntistry homework, she found she was unable to focus on the readings in her textbooks, the thoughts of this potential new school in her mind.
A new school…new beginnings…a new start.
One where nobody needed to know her story. Where she'd be among the land of the living again, to be able to see the seasons again, to see night turn into day and vice versa, to eat food again and touch solid objects and actually have stuff that remained on the ground.
Where nobody ever had to know the real story.
Spectra sucked in her lips, that one thought in particular growing more tempting.
To be among mortals again- well, at least some of them were mortal, she was pretty sure- to walk the Earth again, instead of its cold, empty parallel shell. To actually feel normal again.
And who knows what kind of juicy gossip monsters have? Her mind teased.
That one made her smile.
Oh, yes, it would definitely be pleasant.
She could start over, again.
And no one would ever have to know of the pain, the reality of what she went through, the horrendous secret behind her unlife that she was never allowed to speak of in this place. Spectra Vondergeist could be whoever she wanted to be, for once. Could tell them whatever, and they wouldn't think otherwise. They would see only what she wanted them to see- and what she wanted them to see could be anything.
Most especially, anything that didn't involve a girl who died in a horrific fashion. Oh no, that would definitely be something she made sure was kept under tight lock and key. Out of sight, out of mind.
She could make her own story, and give it her own ending.
Spectra's smile grew.
The thought in itself was almost comforting.
A/N: Wow, this was chapter certainly turned out to be far longer than I thought it would be. Though to my credit, thirty-four pages in a little over a week feels a bit an accomplishment, especially considering I rewrote this several times.
Surprisingly, I've never actually thought about Spectra and the events surrounding her death as much as I have the others, so I kind of had to make stuff up as I went along; I pondered several times the different ways until I came across a scenario I was satisfied with. Hence why this chapter took a bit long, and probably why the length of it is so big (I don't think the others should be as long). I didn't really know how else to proceed with it, so I'm not sure about this final result. Oh, well, take it as you will.
