AN: Hey I'm back guys~ Sorry for the sort of long wait, but considering this chapter's longevity, I think that gives me an excuse this time around eheh. Fabricated World has become a very important story in the production of my own life so I'm working all I can into it.
I hope to really deliver this time, and to note this is mainly some fluffy cruising around town with Garry and Ib, but by the next chapter we'll really have the story rolling~!
ATTENTION: I have edited the last five chapters and tweaked the story a whole lot so I suggest rereading before going on with this one, and even so I need to edit this one as well XD
Okay, I'm too tired for this. It's 3am and I have school in 3 hours sooooo, let's do this.
Disclaimer: Ib does not belong to me, but this story does. In no way am I trying to claim a profit or otherwise, only the mixed reviews of my readers!
Alright, onto the chapter :D
Chapter Six, Strained Ear
The day had begun with an unsettling chill. The town was wrapped in a thin and transparent fog, the sun's rays struggling to break through the bleakness of the morning. It was almost like the shore had asked the sea to hide it from the warmth, rejecting any form of hospitality in that moment in time.
Ib liked to think the seaside town was just resting, and giving it's townsfolk the chance to rest as well.
Considering the situation, she was relatively unsure if this was the best of ideas, but for the moment she couldn't think of anything else.
Garry and Ib had agreed to meet the following day, which was thankfully a Saturday, to search around town for any existing traces of Rebekah. It was a rather long stretch, and it didn't do justice to search when there was a more of a percentage chance that nothing would be found, but it couldn't hurt to try.
Ib was waiting in the middle of an intersection, on a lonely strip of land that separated the road and the sidewalk, surrounded by only wispy arms of mist and her own nonchalant sense of being. While for most people, such a scene would rather be avoided, Ib, with her twisted sense of security, welcomed it with open arms. Instead of seeing it as a vulnerability, she saw it as a more comfortable cover that evened out the odds of whatever enemy might come her way.
She was donned in blue jeans and a lanky, long sleeved white and black striped shirt. Wrapped tightly around her frame to shield her from the chill were a long red coat, and a scarf to match.
The scarf was actually a cautionary action, of all things, to hide the visible red marks from the day before. She clenched her fists to stop her body from shaking at the memory and turned the volume on her iPod up even louder, letting the sweet melody of 'Stone Cage' fill her with a sense of peace.
"You give me a faint smile, my dear, but I fear it's time to say goodbye.
For our inevitable separation is coming nigh.
Encased in thorns of stone, I reach out to hold you near, but you are soon swept away by the darkness so clear.
I should've known, I swore to protect, everything we have, but in the end there is only regret."
A small wind picked up and blew her long, silky hair out behind her, causing her to be stirred from her musical trance and back into the waiting day.
She checked the little digital timer on her device. It was already 9:46...Where was he?
Her question was answered a minute later as Garry came pounding down the road, a piece of toast hanging out the side of his mouth in the typical Rei Ayanami fashion and a rather tired look on his face as he stopped to catch his breath.
"I'm…sorry…I'm…late…" He said in between gasps, and after a moment, he gave a sheepish grin, taking another bite of his now cold breakfast. "Want some?" He offered, but Ib politely refused.
"Did you sleep in or something?" She asked instead, pocketing her IPod as they began to walk down the cobblestone path and towards the central park.
Garry finished off the last of the nutella toast and wiped his brow, taking another deep breath. "Yesterday was a little, uh…hectic, as you know. But today we'll do even better! What do you say?"
Ib's heart ached with guilt. "Sorry." She muttered, looking to the side blankly, but Garry ruffled her hair playfully, causing her to blink in confusion from the sudden affectionate gesture. "It's cool. No sweat."
"...I know." She replied, gesturing to the fog about her, to which the action made Garry sigh in a light-hearted disbelief. "Ah Ib, it wasn't a pun...Did it really sound like one?"
Garry received a small, humorous smile from the younger girl, and he smiled in turn. Right then and there in that very moment, he couldn't think of a better way to be spending his time, with just the two of them, walking and talking like he had only dreamed.
It was nonsensical, in itself, that they were treating each other with such familiarity, despite never having really 'hung out' before. Ib wondered why Garry treated her like such a dear friend, while he in turn hoped she saw him as one already, if not sooner rather than later.
The moment dispersed unexpectedly, however, when Ib said, "So, where should we look first?"
That was when Garry remembered that they weren't together to enjoy themselves, no. He was just her sidekick at the moment in the mission to find her missing friend. Albeit the frustrating situation, he couldn't blame her. After all, he knew what it was like to lose a friend too.
So, he mustered an enthusiastic smile, and pulled a town map out of his pocket. The day before they had poured over various locations as to where Rebekah might've gone before she 'disappeared'. The locations were circled in red ink (for added, dramatic effect) and were listed as follows, though in no particular visiting order.
The library, the park, the ice-cream parlour, the high-school, the downtown market and finally...The Art Gallery.
At the sight of the last destination, Garry struggled to keep a shiver at bay, which had caused Ib to look at him curiously. "Why do you look so surprised?" She had asked. "Rebekah loves the place. She even had...has a part time job there."
"Oh...I guess..." Well, he didn't think it would hurt to stretch the truth a little now, would it? "Sculptures are creepy. You know, like ceramic heads and manikins? The way they just stare, lifeless and-"
"Garry." Ib had chuckled slightly. "They're just manikins. It's not like they're alive or anything."
That's what she thought.
Back to the present day, Garry scowled and shook his head, clearing it of the memory.
"So where to first?" He asked, pouring over the map with the tip of his finger.
"To the bridge." Ib instantly replied, adjusting the straps of her schoolbag slung over her shoulders. "Rebekah and I always fed the geese there..."
So, what were they going to find? Breadcrumbs?
Garry masked an irritated snort with a yawn, and began to merrily march. "Thata-way!"
"No, this way." Ib pointed in the opposite direction and began to walk, causing Garry to give a nervous laugh as he quickly plodded along after her.
"Those aren't geese. Are you sure this is the right place?" Garry turned the map upside down, and peered closely, but the embarrassment from earlier was clouding his sense of judgement.
"No...this is the right place. I'm sure of it."
"As sure as you are about your birds? They're swans, not geese. I was wondering what kind of deranged fellow allowed there to be geese in the local park anyway."
Ib blinked and cocked her head to the side. Had she really been viewing them wrong all this time?
"They look similar, except geese are smaller and fatter. Swans have longer necks and more feathers too, and distinct markings that differentiate them from geese. Oh, and geese also have teeth, so you better watch out if they ever get close. The pack a nasty bite."
"It sounds like you're scared of them, Garry." Ib leaned over the bridge railing and stared at her reflection in the glistening water. A swan (she would have to get used to thinking of them like that now) floated by, obscuring her image and causing it to ripple. She blinked and silently pulled back up, looking at Garry once more.
The older man had his arms crossed over his chest like a stubborn child, and he looked to the side. "Well, who wouldn't be? Teeth, on a goddamn bird! Whoever created this earth had some pretty messed up ideas..."
She couldn't help but smile. It was an admirable, if silly, trait to be able to honestly admit to such a ridiculous fear, but coming from Garry the response only seemed that much more adorable.
She tucked her scarf in and began to wander, staring about the desolated place with a small pang of guilt in her chest. So many happy memories resided in this very park, so many that it seemed like a waste just to be expected to forget about them.
Ib and her family had had their very first picnic just under the tree on the other side of the river.
It had also been the same day she had first seen a squirrel, and tried mint flavoured ice-cream for the very first time.
The park could only be remembered with the image of the sun shining brightly, and for its absence, it left her feeling a little down.
It was just so cold, and haunting...and lonely. Dead, even, if Garry's jubilant spark hadn't been there to keep her morbid thoughts at bay.
She turned to see him crouching close to the riverbank, an obviously agitated swan standing only a few feet away.
He was whispering, uttering, something like a tune under his breath, and reaching out his hand to stroke it's glossy black feathers.
But the tides turned as the swan gave an unearthly mix between a shriek and a gasp and charged at him, causing Garry to scream in turn. He scuffled backwards up the bank and ran towards Ib as fast as he could, panic making his eyes widen.
He collapsed to the ground and slumped, breathing heavily. Ib prodded him gently with a foot, and he looked up quickly, blinking rapidly.
"...Uhm." Garry stood, straightening his coat and trying to look as sophisticated as he could. "That was..."
"Swans may not have teeth, but they're still just as vicious, you know. That's why Rebekah and I never went near them."
Garry pouted and turned away, scratching his chin to cover up his rather childish mistake.
"L-let's go. There are heaps of places we haven't looked yet..."
By 12:30 they had already scoured the library and ice-cream parlor, both of which ended up with nothing.
The only remotely useful thing from either of those two places was the praline and strawberry icecreams the parlor sold, which the two of them had decided to buy as a midday snack.
They were seated outside of the parlor underneath a bright red parasol when Garry asked, "Hey, why is she your best friend anyway?"
He hadn't meant for it to be a judgmental phrase, and he hoped it hadn't sounded like one. He was just rather curious; after all, what WAS so great about this girl that Ib wanted to spend as much time as she could around her anyway?
It seemed Ib didn't take the question with offense, instead smiling with understanding and looking down at her half eaten snack.
"She's...the only one who really cares, I guess, besides my parents, you know." She looked up at him, rather alarmed, suddenly, and waved her hands in defense. "Not that the rest of the world is bad though! I mean...And, well, there's also you-" But...why would he care?
Garry wasn't looking at her. "No I get it. She seemed to be the only one who ever paid attention to you and your parents don't count because they're meant to love you, right?"
"...Yeah. Yeah, that's-"
"And you didn't think of trying to win the heart of anybody else because you didn't see the point. Not that you're a bad person, but it's because you never knew how and you were too...scared to try. But when she came into your life, you didn't know that something like that could happen, that someone could be so accepting and nice...And she eventually became your best friend because of it, even though your trust for others was already shaky. She made you feel like-"
"-like I was accepted and wanted..." Ib trailed off, staring at the older man in her own fascination.
But there was no evidence on Garry's face that spoke of understanding as he simply licked away at his ice-cream with that goofy smile of his.
She blinked.
"...Have you been stalking me, Garry?"
The older man coughed and choked loudly, clearing his throat and staring at the younger girl in horror. "W-What! No-"
"Are you a pedophile?"
"No, Ib! NO." He stood up, almost knocking the table over onto its side in his dramatic attempt at keeping his panic under control. His sudden movement caused a few heads to stir and look his way, and he was almost afraid Ib would scream and make a scene, but that was hard to believe. No, she was a sensible girl, and besides, causing a ruckus was more of his style.
He lowered his voice to a static, nervous whisper and looked about cautiously. "I would never do that to you, Ib. Never in a million years, and I don't want you getting that idea, I just want to protect you and-Hey, what's with that smile? ...You think this is funny!?"
Ib's small smirk confirmed the thought that she had only said those things to get a playful rise out of him, and it had worked. Ib knew Garry wasn't capable of those things, no matter how old he was.
For one, he was afraid of geese, and secondly, there had been times when they had been alone already and not once had he even attempted anything of the sort.
It was a stretch, and despite his awkward nature, Ib trusted him enough already to not resort to that kind of stuff.
Garry quickly seated and muttered to himself, irritated that he had dropped his ice-cream in his panicked outburst and that now two corgis were licking up it's melted remains.
"Hehe, sorry." Ib apologized, reaching out and handing him her ice-cream to make up for her little trick. At first, she thought he would refuse, but his features softened and he took it, licking it shyly.
She wiped off her hands and scratched one of the corgis behind the ear, earning an excited bark for her efforts, and smiled. "You sound like you know what it's like though..."
"What's like what...?" Garry raised an eyebrow but nonetheless continued to indulge.
"That you know what it's like having a best friend and maybe even losing them, like I have..."
Garry faltered, but then he smiled slightly. "Well of course. Who's never had a best friend before? But I'm not too worried, because I haven't lost them, I'm sure of that. Just like I'm sure you haven't lost Rebekah, okay? No matter what, you guys will stay tight for a long time. It's a promise that can't easily be broken."
"...You're right. We can't lose hope, not ever. She's still out there and I'm determined to set things right."
"Me too." He agreed, finishing off the last of the ice-cream and leaving a generous tip at the table. "Now let's go!"
"Actually, let's turn back..." The hasty assault within Garry's voice as he turned away made Ib intrigued, and she gripped onto his wrist to stop him from moving any further.
"There's nothing wrong, is there?" She inquired, and the older man bit his lip nervously.
They were standing outside of the local art gallery, overshadowed by its marble and concrete correlation. Ib figured it was the next best place to look, but thankfully for Garry it was closed on Saturdays. That didn't stop Ib, however.
She pulled on the door and it swung open easily (yet surprisingly), earning a measly squeak from Garry as he took a few steps backwards.
Without hesitation, she stepped through, and without choice, the purple haired man followed.
She strode easily along the shiny floor and towards the service desk. It was attended by a handsome looking boy, who looked to be about in his late teens. His soft brown eyes averted from his reading material and onto Ib's shorter form with surprise, and a small smile formed on his lips.
"Why hello there! What can I do for you, young lady?"
Ib would've scowled if it weren't for her monotone resolve, and she simply gave a polite smile. "I was wondering if you had anyone under the name of Rebekah Mcalister working on your roster?"
The boy sat back in his leather chair, causing it to creak, and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that-" That was when he spotted Garry, standing idly a few feet away, inspecting his black sneakers as if they were the most exciting thing in the whole world.
Assuming the taller, almost rugged looking male was Ib's father or even brother, the clerk swallowed his nervousness and sheepishly smiled down at Ib once more. "Eh, actually, madam...Give me a moment."
When he stood and went through to the back, Ib turned to look at Garry, who was simply looking at her in distress.
Ib felt a little guilty. He must've really had something against art galleries...It was an odd phobia, but for his oddball personality she saw how it could fit.
The lighting within the building was down, and a sign blocking the stairs that was surrounded by yellow and black ticket tape spoke of a new exhibition being set up prior to the gallery's reopening the following Monday.
With the unnatural dark atmosphere and silence in the lonely building, save for Garry's rapid breathing, it created a rather eerie scene.
Ib's eyes averted to the shadows covering the stairs, and she swore she could almost see a figure peering out from behind the sign.
Ib's eyes widened slightly, and she began to quiver. As she was about to take a step back, the clerk returned, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other.
"Okay...Rebekah Mc-"
"Alister."
"Right." He clicked his tongue, scanning up and down the list carefully, until he reached the end and frowned. "I'm sorry...I can't find her name anywhere. Maybe she works somewhere else...?"
Ib knew that more likely than not this wasn't going to be the case, but she couldn't stop her heart from aching a little in sadness, and the clerk's gaze grew concerned.
"...Listen, miss. She's around somewhere, you just have to keep on looking, alright? I don't know who you're looking for, but...I mean, we're not that large a town, and-"
But by that time, Ib had already turned to leave.
"Okay, so we scratch that..."
"Yeah. Where to next?"
Ib's look was a mix between isolated and worn out, and Garry frowned slightly in remorse. "Well...the marketplace is the last place on the map."
"...Yeah..."
They had already searched the school, or at least the perimeter, considering it was surrounded by a large iron fence, making it seem more like a prison than anything else.
Garry sighed, before placing a hand on her shoulder and crouching down slightly so they were eye level, and he smiled gently.
Ib looked at him in surprise, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden, adoring action.
"Ib, we should go to the marketplace anyway. Even if we don't find Rebekah there," His eyebrows narrowed to reinforce his serious concern, "We can still go, just to wind down and relax. On Saturdays they have a sort of street performance on too, y'know. It's the least we deserve after walking around town all day, and I'm sure it's free so we can save the money we have for a little bit of a shopping spree. What do you say?"
Ib's expression had wilted again, but when Garry finished speaking and she found his sparkling blue eyes never lingering from her face, she couldn't help the small smile that broke through the gloom.
He was right, they did deserve a little break. They couldn't do much else, and she didn't feel like wandering around for another couple of hours just to come up with dead ends; she wanted to spare her heart the ache of failure.
With a very easy nod in reply, she almost expected the older man to jump up in the air with a victorious yelp, but he merely sighed in relief and ruffled her hair in a slightly demeaning but cheeky way, as if she were only a small child.
The gesture made her purse her lips together a little stubbornly as they walked onwards. Garry's gait was simple and well-defined; he was keeping surprisingly steady after an entire day of walking, but it seemed like he didn't mind.
That was when she noticed his rather worn expression, one that didn't suit his pace. She suddenly realized he was hurrying, hurrying to get the day over and done with, it seemed.
It was already nearing five in the afternoon, and the sun was setting calmly over the waterfront horizon, painting everything in a pinkish hue.
Ib's pace slowed and she dragged her feet a little solemnly along the ground. She hadn't noticed it before, but in her desperate attempt at finding her lost friend, Garry was doing his best to keep calm and obedient.
He'd tolerated her sadness, her own weariness and her ignorance. Despite his unusual phobias, he'd stuck by her side as best as he could, and all she had done was laugh and expect him to follow along.
The day and search wasn't meant to be pleasant, no, far from it in fact. But he was doing all he could without abandoning the search entirely to keep her at ease.
Ib looked down and stopped for a moment, hearing Garry's footsteps as they continued moving forward.
There was a strange, almost chilling, nostalgic sense about it. It made no sense, why Garry wanted to come along in the first place. After all, it wasn't his duty to pick up after the mess she had made. That'd be selfish on her own part...Maybe Garry really was just a nice person?
She bit her lip and looked up once more, and was shocked to see Garry waiting, a tired but honest smile on his lips.
"You coming? Or are you just going to stand there, silly girl?"
Even after...he still was here?
"I-I'm not silly!" She cried a little in indignation, which stirred a wholesome laugh from the purple-haired man. She had to hold back a playful smirk, and rushed up besides him, nudging him playfully.
He teetered a little from the motion, and playfully nudged back, before shoving his hands into his pockets and taking to a small run. "I'll race you?" He turned his body slightly, offered a wink and one of his trademark smiles, then shot off, causing Ib to rush along after him.
The least she could do was forget her grief for the remainder of the day and enjoy Garry's company while it lasted, even if it instilled even more heartache.
The waterfront waves pushed lazily against the sandy shore, lulling the town into a sense of relaxation.
Moreover, the Twilight Market came alive when the sun set, creating a bustling atmosphere amongst the slumber. It was usually an event Ib and her parents attended during the season when the weather wasn't too bad, but seeing as both of her parents' schedules had filled up in the recent months, it had been quite some time since she had actually gone.
When they stepped into the midst of a crowd made up from tourists, her nose was instantly hit with scents of cooking seafood and floral sprays.
"Woah, look at all the leeches." Garry muttered under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he entwined his hand with Ib's and began to lead her through. He had done so nonchalantly, in a natural sense, and without any other thought keeping the action at bay. He hadn't even aimed to look, and yet his fingers had slid so easily into hers, but even so the action caught Ib off guard and she stumbled along after him.
Garry didn't slow down, but Ib wasn't slow either. She allowed herself to be pulled, even pushing to hurry away from the rather cluttered scene.
When they were clear, Garry's hand remained, however loosened, and the younger girl slowly let go, trying very hard to cover up the surprised rosy blush that was faintly hinted on her cheeks.
"Alright, where to first?" Garry placed his hands on his hips and stood on his toes to get a better view, while Ib remained close, blinking a little rapidly.
They made their way around to a few of the stalls, the resounding of many voices echoing in their ears. They passed by food, jewelry, fabric, clothing, carpet, animal and many other kinds of stalls in their pursuit to discover something new.
They even stopped a couple of times to look over various merchandise that was way too expensive for their taste, and they continued on with groans of disappointment.
The bustle never stopped, and nor did their aimless wondering as they went in silence. That was, after they'd scoured the lower courts, until Ib heard something that made her turn her head a little in curiosity.
A tune, a peculiar rhythm that made her senses prickle in apprehension. It sounded like an eerie string quartet, laced around by a spellbinding sort of rise in it's melody.
No voices accompanied the sound, but voices weren't really needed. Before she knew what was happening, her feet were moving of their own accord in synchronization. At first, she was walking, and then she began to sway, but only slightly.
The indication was enough to pique interest in her movement, but it wasn't lively enough to be called a dance. Her footsteps came to a halt, and she found herself standing in front of three lone minstrels, three ladies with silky black hair and glossy lips, each holding a string instrument and playing in a haunting harmony that seeped through the crowd.
It was unusual, to have such a lamenting chorus playing in the middle of a place like this, but Ib didn't mind. The fact was that she felt the music fit her mood perfectly, and it created a spooky air that gave the marketplace a gypsy-camp feel.
Garry came striding over, holding something behind his back, and with a grin, he quickly shoved it down into the depths of Ib's school bag that had been disregarded in her musical stupor.
When she felt a small tap on her shoulder, she turned in surprise and saw Garry giving her an excited smile. "You like music?" He spoke enthusiastically, and Ib nodded a little shyly. Music was one of her greatest escapes, even though all her violin playing was folly.
"That's great! Why don't you show me what you can do, then?"
It took a moment or two for her to understand what he was even talking about, but when an understanding surfaced, she shook her head feverishly.
"No way Garry! I don't dance." She tried to put a discerning edge in her voice, but failed as it was smothered by a shy squeak.
Garry laughed and began to swivel his own hips rather flamboyantly, completely out of tune with the music and receiving a couple of snide giggles from passing tourists, but he really didn't care.
Ib giggled also, but not meanly, and it was that thankful gesture that got him laughing too. "I guess that makes two of us!"
She noticed the tiredness of his smile disintegrating as he slowed to a stop, the same handsome chuckle still making his body shake in glee.
As they moved on, Garry looked down at her once more. "So do you play anything at all? Or just listen?"
"Violin, but I'm not very good at it."
"Ah, I see! Exquisite instrument, light and easy to hold. A fair thing to play."
"What about you?" She figured his talents would stretch as far as the kazoo, but she was surprised as he drummed his fingers along his calf and replied, "Guitar, a little bit of cello, and flute."
She was a little gobsmacked at how someone could have managed to play three when she couldn't even get a single chord right.
Garry chuckled slightly. "Why do you look so surprised? Music is one of the greatest things to have come to exist. Why, it's more like an art-form than a hobby, I daresay."
"I thought you hated art?"
"Galleries, Ib. Just Galleries..."
Suddenly she stopped. A sudden new and crazy idea was running through her mind, and it took a moment or two for Garry to get her attention. "Ib? Are you okay?"
"Oh, I happen to be quiet the curious curator myself! Why, my own house could even match to the Guertena Exhibition!"
She suddenly turned and began to speed the other way, away from Garry and back into the crowd. Garry caught up a second later, jogging along as she nimbly darted between the clashes of people.
"Ib! Wait up! Where are you going?!" He called out a little in distress, to which when they reached a small clearing, Ib hopped back and forth on her feet in excitement, and grinned. "You'll see!" She smiled before dashing away once more.
"You...can't be serious."
"Garry, I'm serious."
"This...It's worse than-"
"The Gallery, I know. But it's okay. Just try and trust me for a minute, okay? I know what I'm doing."
The two were now standing in front of Rebekah's house. The night was dead silent, save for the chirping of late crickets in the thicket. It had already turned to 7:30, and the unsettling feeling of uneasiness seeped into Garry's pores as they walked into the front yard.
Ib said she knew what she was doing, but for some reason Garry didn't buy it. She wasn't the type of kid who went around breaking into other people's houses, even if she knew who lived there. Or maybe she was, and Garry had just shrugged her off as an introvert who hardly interacted with others in the first place.
Ib, in fact, had no clue what she was doing. Her knees shook and her lips slightly trembled from the rebellious exhilaration running through her veins. She also shook from the excitement this escapade brought. How could she have been so stupid? If there was anywhere that Rebekah's existence could've been proven, it would've been her own room. Of course, it wouldnt have done just to waltz up to the front door and ask to raid her room, no. It was hard enough that nobody knew who she was, and she would've only come off as crazy to Rebekah's own parents, which was something she really didn't want happening.
The house was completely silent. No lights shone, and there wasn't any indication that anybody was home.
The house had an old, Victorian look about it, made with mosque brick and ivy scaling it's sides. The curtains were drawn, and no car was parked in the driveway. A large garden bed of roses swayed delicately in the breeze, their buds closed to the welcoming twilight.
Ib reached underneath the old and worn 'Welcome!' carpet and pulled out a shiny silver key. She clenched her teeth and slowly inserted the key, but then breathed a sigh of relief as it turned easily in the lock.
The door swung open and Ib slipped inside as quietly as she could, Garry reluctantly following after.
"I'm about 99% sure that Mr and Mrs Mcalister aren't home from work until nine o'clock on the weekends."
"And what about that other one percent?"
"Well...we haul our butts out of here as fast as we can."
Walking idly through a narrow hallway with a pair of stairs built into the side, Garry bit his lip nervously. "This is a rich people's home. What if they have security cameras or something...?"
Ib laughed quietly. "Garry, not all rich people have surveillance in their homes...But it does make me think."
"Eh?!"
"Anyway, I've never seen anything like cameras in here, so I'm pretty sure it's safe."
"Pretty 'sure'? Somehow, that doesn't calm my woe..."
They stopped at the end of the hallway and Ib pointed to one of the three doors surrounding them. You take the bottom, I'll take the top. Deal? If you find something-Why're you laughing? Garry, this is serious!"
Garry calmed his breathing and nodded in reply, holding back another muffled chuckle.
"Mm...Good. We've gotta concentrate here. I'm sure we'll find...something, at least." Her voice dropped slightly, but then she clenched her fists and managed another determined smile. "I'm sure of it!"
As she turned in the other direction, Garry stood there for a moment, looking at Ib a little in awe as she walked away, before turning and staring at the three possible doors he could go through just behind him.
The first was merely a broom closet, filled with cleaning supplies and other assorted items. He double checked to make sure that Rebekah wasn't somehow tied up deep in the back of the small space, before closing it a little in disappointment.
The second one showed little promise, but it was still an interesting search. It was a spare room with nothing but a neatly made bed, a pair of drawers and a slightly moist carpet that suggested it had been recently cleaned inside. While the drawers held nothing, the closet held an anatomical skeletal figure, and Garry almost shrieked out in fright when he opened the doors to see it standing there, staring at him from the holes where it's eyes should have been.
For a moment, Garry thought it could've been a real human skeleton, and that the Mcalister's were hiding a dark secret.
But that theory was all but eradicated when he realized that he was in fact standing in a guest bedroom, and if this had in fact been a real human being that the family wouldn't be stupid enough to hide it in an easily accessible cupboard.
But still, what an unnerving place to put such a thing...
Perhaps they weren't that well tuned with guests?
The last door was slightly ajar, and looking inside (from what he could make out in the darkness of the night) he saw a small green light from the screen of a laptop situated on a long brown desk. Various papers were strewn on the floor and left to be untidy, suggesting that the owner was either a hurried and busy man or simply wouldn't bother picking them up anytime soon.
The shelves were packed with clutter, and an uneasy musty smell prompted Garry to find the source, of which was a half eaten mustard and ham sandwich left on the desk to rot.
Garry rubbed his arms and shook his head in response to the vulgar scene.
While he was no stranger to clutter, this was beyond repair. The tenant of this room had made no effort to clean up after himself, and save for the creepy situation, such a sight sent chills cascading up his spine.
He gulped back a shaky retort, and covering his nose with his arm, he investigated the floor.
Most of the papers were about various kinds of topics about historic sites around the world and travel documents, the same with the books on the shelf.
That was, until he happened upon a small scrappy journal, much like his own, except this seemed to be bound in the skin of an animal instead of leather.
He curiously flicked through, his interest instantly piqued when the first image that met his eyes was that of a faded black and white photograph. The image was too blurry to make out, but it appeared to be a family.
Two shapes side by side in the background suggested parents, or perhaps guardians, while a visibly smaller shape in front was a child.
From her build and long, curly hair, it gave the impression that the child was female, and from the side the blurriness of the shot failed to capture, a small inquisitive eye stated back up at him.
He checked the back, and found the print date to be fairly recent, and he deducted that the family depicted certainly wasn't the Mcalisters.
He cleared his throat and went to continue flicking through the journal, when he heard a loud buzzing noise behind him.
He gasped in fright, afraid that the owners had come home and had caught him in the act, and were perhaps brandishing a chainsaw or other household weapon that had made such a frightening noise.
The noise had simply come from the laptop, however, and Garry sighed shakily in relief, walking carefully over and looking downwards at the screen.
A small tab had appeared on the screen, prompting Garry to open and take a look.
Despite such an action being so careless and rude, he almost mentally slapped himself in the face. The laptop was the perfect place to search, but the action hadn't even crossed his mind beforehand.
With a stab of guilt and driven by overpowering curiosity, he tentatively clicked open the folder.
What met his eyes made him reel back in horror, impulsively dropping the journal onto the messy floor and scattering it's contents like a pig that had just been slain and cut open for it's prize.
A painting stared back at him from the screen, dominated by the power of red and accompanied by a maliciously fowl grin. The Lady in Red continued to stare, and he backed up against the wall, clawing at the air in defense and desperately trying to keep a confused and frightened sob from escaping his lips.
Why? Why was this here of all places? Why did it always have to come back to Guertena? What had he ever done to deserve this hideous nightmare?
Why couldn't they just leave him alone?!
And then he suddenly heard Ib scream.
R&R? Constructive criticism is appreciated as well :3