Note: This was a double chapter update, so make sure you've seen the last one. Separated this little bit out from the last chapter, because it's kind of self-contained and the other one was already too long.
[X]
[May 2020, Hell]
Rewind. While Terri and Alastor were arguing, Charlie had been on the verge of meeting the prisoner.
When the house spontaneously reconstructed and Charlotte stepped in, Tom was surprised. Terri was out and distracted by her errand, right? Perhaps her mind reflexively enabled this because she so achingly wanted to welcome Charlie into her life? Whatever the explanation, Tom pounced on opportunity, frantically whittling thousands of racing thoughts into a simple two-part plan: (1) Help Charlie. (2) Request Charlie's help. …Eh, and (1.5) make sure Charlie will help Terri.
He shouldn't be worried about leaving her, but he was. Decades ago, when then-mute fellow prisoner Echo warned him very seriously in ASL not to develop feelings for Terri, Tom swallowed laughter. This bizarre, Muppet-like personification of the Thing that swallowed him alive, who generated offensive caricatures of his family to 'make him comfortable' while she calmly hacked apart Holloway's remains like she was carving a Thanksgiving turkey? No worries, Echo, old Tom was safe from love this time! But soon he saw it. Tom hadn't expected to find something so colorful, chaotic, and endearing inside that flat, monotonous black space. The woman who lived in the stomach of the beast was bright, artistic, witty; shockingly fragile and childlike; yet able to withstand agonizing conditions with sheer stubbornness. If she got really hammered she tried speaking Furbish—that was pretty cute. And she was a sex machine that ran like a race car—ahhhhh, best not to dwell on that now.
Her family history didn't help, either. First, Tom assumed it was her schtick. She studied prey and appealed to them. If she'd learned anything about Tom's background, of course she'd spin a yarn about orphanhood with her brother, falling into the Type B slacker category and watching him succeed on the sidelines, and being tossed aside once he started his own family. But Terri made these vague comments repeatedly, with such sincerity that he believed her, and empathy slowly crept in.
Still, she was a monster. She'd tried murdering children in front of him; cannibalized him while he was conscious; ripped him away from the family he'd just reclaimed. She'd asked forgiveness for actions taken "while sick and starving," but that didn't fully account for dear departed Echo. Allegedly, they were Terri's first spouse, killed and relegated to servitude well before she'd been trapped. So, Tom doubted conditions would improve much simply because Terri was free. He had to escape. The duality in her persona, though, after long observation, no longer struck him as 100% an act. She seemed as sincere in her kindness as in her brutality. The dime turn seemed as jarring and frightening for her as for prey. Tom was…concerned. So, he'd try securing help for obviously unwell Terri and arming that help with informative fair warning on his way out. Here was hoping she'd stay distracted a while.
[X]
A new song played on the piano, catching Charlie's attention. If she wasn't mistaken, that was Green Day's 'Pulling Teeth?' Hesitantly, Charlie returned to the drawing room, and the playing ceased. She looked left, right, and yelped at the shadow cast on the wall with no visible body to match. Charlie's heartbeat slowed as it waved pleasantly. Terri had her own shadow creature? It looked more humanoid than Al's. "Oh, uh, hello!" she greeted, recovering from the startle. "Are you...with Terri?"
The shadow produced a caption on the wall above his head like a name tag. 'Tom.'
Tom wasn't imaginary after all…because he was the prisoner. Crap. Stay calm, Charlie. Collect more information. "Nice to meet you, Tom! Terri's mentioned you."
'You're the doctor? You're helping her?'
So, Terri had mentioned her, too. "I don't have a—I'm the therapist. And yes."
Tom nodded in what looked like approval, not outrage. He looked around at the warping puzzle house. 'Must be focusing, or she'd notice you. Stay quiet.'
Despite that song choice, he was by no means begging for help, but she'd investigate that soon. For now, Charlie decided to see if he'd tell her more about Terri. "I'm worried for your friend. She suggests she's done something awful and wants to apologize? But she's…not progressing. And it seems she has...bad habits that hurt her ability to form relationships," Charlie worded extremely kindly.
The shadow rippled as though chuckling at her polite euphemisms. Then he morphed into a dragon, blew some shadow fire for effect.
"Yeah," Charlie admitted, chuckling back tensely, "that's what I was getting at. Can you tell me more? I can't help unless I know more about…what areas need focus," she again worded gently.
More nodding. Tom started with a summary of Terri's basic M.O., shadow-casting scenes stylized like an old black and white cartoon. No longer bound by hands, he'd become quite artistic. He depicted Terri standing behind a girl, who sat at a table before an elaborate cake. Panning overhead showed the icing read 'Welcome Home.' She handed the child a gift-wrapped box, from which she removed two buttons. Terri tapped her own button eye and hovered a gift button over the child's eye. Next, an old-fashioned black and white dialogue card: "Play dollhouse? Together?" In faded background shadows, the girl showed a doll to her mother, who waved her off, and two older sisters, who held a tea party with their own dolls and meanly excluded her. Through the siblings' bedroom window, the sun set and the moon rose. Little button-eyed mice entered and chewed the hair of the bullying sisters' dolls. In daylight, the older girls screamed at the youngest, the presumed culprit, who fled the conflict with her own doll, which wore a key around its neck. "Forever," foreground Terri shadow promised, fingers crossed behind her back. The child nodded. Then, images of an aggressively working needle and thread. Now, the button-eyed child stood near Terri, smiling in a forced, docile way like an actual doll. Terri paraded in an intricate gown, making garden flowers sing and silverware dance, thrilled to have a captive audience. As this went on, the child simply faded to nothing.
"Uhhhh huh," Charlie uttered grimly. That wasn't nice to watch, but at least she had a clear, confirmed picture. "She doesn't keep them long?"
'In here, she can't keep them alive long. But souls she can keep.'
"She traps souls?" Charlie whispered incredulously. This was…an uncommon ability. Terri hadn't seemed awfully powerful so far, for someone who'd supposedly provided Alastor with demigod-like abilities. Something interesting was brewing beneath the surface. "What about her son, Alastor?" she pressed. "They were family for a while. Why?"
'Special case. True love,' said Tom, with an unclear amount of sarcasm, before summarizing what he'd been told or inferred. He cast the image of child Alastor, sans buttons, clapping enthusiastically at Terri's singing flowers, dancing silverware, acrobat mice, singing and piano playing. Explosions of hearts large as fireworks encircled Terri's head. Charlie heard echoes of 'It's You I Like' in her head and, disgusted as she was, felt a burst of understanding. Terri really wanted to be loved.
Things darkened. Terri's shadow extended and rose behind her as a dragon, towering over her and the boy. Tragicomically, he stepped between Terri and her shadow and stood straight, fists clenched, willing to fight it, but was easily consumed by the ink black form. Terri shifted and looked away in shame without helping. When the dragon shadow shrank and flattened against the floor and shaken Alastor reappeared, his grand reward amounted to a forehead kiss and a corn muffin. He hugged his mother tightly, as if considering her another target of the beast and fearing for her life. Then, the two pointedly traced their smiles at each other and returned to 'normal.' Terri performed again, and Alastor's smile was wider, his nodding and clapping exaggerated, ostensibly hoping the dragon wouldn't return.
"Lots of things make sense now," eked Charlie.
'He was also a special project from the get-go,' Tom continued. Tom cast the image of a classic Build-A-Bear Workshop storefront. 'Wanted one custom made.'
Charlie couldn't suppress an uncomfortable snort at the absurdity. "What did that entail?"
Tom knew a story that would both provide Charlie with relevant information and warn adequately of how far Terri would go to get her way—a highly-dramatized tale cobbled together from Terese's direct admissions, Echo's reports, and Tom's attempts to fill in blanks. Shadows disassembled like puzzle pieces and reconstructed into a new scene.
First, a woman and her small daughter walked off a boat in a harbor. 'Caroline' Tom name-tagged the adult, and 'Alexandra' the child. Caroline engaged the immigration officer in laughter-filled, breezy conversation and appeared to enter the new country under improved circumstances with her charm alone. But she was poor and worked herself to exhaustion while Alexandra sat in the window of their rickety house. Caroline wrung her hands when the sky darkened and wind howled through the trees, considering how easily her home would be felled by one of the region's infamous storms.
A new figure appeared from behind a large, sturdy-looking building with a 'for sale' sign in the yard, which Caroline enviously viewed as she passed walking home from work. 'Miss Monster' Tom name-tagged this feminine, spider-like humanoid—Terri. She slunk into Caroline's home, frightening her, but offered money, likely for her dream house. Caroline turned up her nose and said, "You disrespect me," offended by the implication that she couldn't work hard enough to build a happier life.
"I know you could do this yourself. That's why you deserve it. My concern is how long it will take you." Terri pointed at Caroline's sleeping daughter. "They grow up so fast." Caroline turned her head toward the child, shoulders slumping with evident sorrow. "I can't have children," Terri continued. "It would hurt my heart to see you miss spending time because you're working yourself to death. Don't be proud. Take it."
"What do you want?" Caroline demanded.
"Nothing."
"Eklatman!" Caroline spat. But while too clever to be outright tricked, she was emotionally manipulated into securing bonding time and safer housing. She accepted and made the down payment on the building, and now had adequate proof of assets to finance the rest. It became a successful boarding house. Through a window, she and Alexandra smiled, eating dinner with their friendly tenants.
The imaginary film reel spun, fast-forwarding through a generation and landing on a new character, name-tagged 'Camille.' The spider spied, half obscured in shadows, with wiggly lines of jealous rage around its head as Camille canoodled with a man. (Once context clues suggested Terri was a shape-shifting child-snatcher, Vaggie and Charlie had joked that their gay/bi-dar was activated, since Terri's first thoughts after seeing women were 'I want your body and your babies.' A good gag, but she was too uneasy to laugh now.) Even if she fancied Camille, Terri stuck to the plan. Having decided the beautiful, clever woman would make beautiful, clever babies, she chose a specific mate. Marionette strings guided Camille toward him ('Bert'). This coupling yielded the desired result. Terri now investigated a small toddler lying in bed ('Alastor,' Tom confirmed), full moon shining through the window behind them. He awakened and said, "Pretty dolly," eliciting a flock of floaty hearts from the spider, which retreated into shadow as Camille poked her head in.
Now Camille looked through storage, slouching and dragging the back of her hand across her cheek as though wiping tears. Probably someone had died (her mother?) and she dug for comforting memories. Then Camille perked up, lifting from the trunk a doll with a key hanging from its neck. Tom noted, 'The doll looks like her. It's wearing a wedding dress. It's near her anniversary. She likes puzzles and games.' Tiny hearts floated around Camille. A faded shadow image in the backdrop depicted a sullen-looking Bert turned away from her, as Tom explained, 'She thought he didn't love her anymore.' Clearly Camille believed this was an anniversary treasure hunt. Hopping excitedly over what surprise lied behind, she disappeared into a closet the key fit. Her excitement didn't last. Reappearing under a 'Some time later' caption, she frantically slammed the door, relocked it, and contained the doll and key in layers of boxes.
In the next scene, Camille and her son hid in the basement while her husband threw a drunken adult temper tantrum upstairs. (Charlie wondered if Terri chose Bert because he had specific good qualities but enough unpleasant ones to drive Camille toward Terri once the child was produced.) Terri arose from shadows. Appalled to learn locking the door didn't keep Terri in, Camille dragged Alastor behind her. "Happy family?" the spider appealed, hoping to lure them away together. Panning down the shadow hallway behind the door revealed Disney-esque mice and—uniquely—spiders, sewing a wedding dress.
Terese noticed Camille feeling unloved by her husband and offered herself as a partner? Under the impression that Terri normally posed as a mother and thinking of Camille's mother's recent death, Charlie remarked, "I know she liked her, but that still seems like the weirder of two options."
Tom shook his head. 'No, no.' He zoomed in on Alastor. 'Stepmother.' Maybe Terri wanted Camille like a little girl longs enviously for a beautiful doll, but this proposal was primarily a vehicle for claiming Alastor. He, not Camille, had elicited those sweet little hearts. She wanted him to formally recognize her as a parent.
Terri interpreted Camille's upturned nose incorrectly and transformed into a man (a replica of Bert), slithering closer flirtatiously. "Better?" Camille's slap spun the rejected spider's head around. Toddler Alastor circled his mother's legs protectively. "Fine!" snapped Terri, donning her previous form. "Find replacements!"
Miscellaneous webdings indicating yelling and cursing popped up around the Camille shadow, and Terri stretched threateningly before vanishing back into the shadows. In a shadow montage, Camille seemed to research and try various methods of warding Terri off, including hanging excessive crucifixes. When the spider wasn't impeded—appearing repeatedly, making demands or cloying offers—Camille adopted a slouched posture of defeat. Ostensibly fearing that the spider was both relentless and unstoppable, the next time Terri appeared to harass Camille, she thrust out her hand, demanding the spider shake, and acquiesced, "I'll find replacements." Terri twitched in surprise. Clearly, she'd expected Camille to submit to her proposal when faced with this distasteful alternative. But the spider nodded.
"Did she...find replacements?" Charlie asked.
Charlie didn't need to understand all the details. (Terri had been unable to entice some stubborn children about whom she'd remained curious. She suspected they'd recognize her even if she ventured outside in a disguise, but thought Camille had an incredibly warm, friendly face and might lure them to the 'back doors.') All Tom needed to show Charlie was Camille mysteriously climbing over the edge of a well and conversing with a child walking alone about the magical wishing well, encouraging them to peer inside...and pushing them in.
Charlie clapped her hands over her mouth.
Camille's mistake was not specifying what would happen if Terri found replacements unsuitable. Tom held up one finger, another, in time with the spider's shadow, tallying children who were presumably eaten alive with buttons sewn in their eyes. Did Terri assume Camille would surrender if pressed hard enough? Eager to protect her community, Camille offered gris-gris to anyone remotely near her home or a well she visited, but was laughed at by a sea of pointing, jeering shadows. Charlie recalled her own experience at News 666, and her heart ached for Camille, who hovered over her son at night, unable to sleep herself, as the moon waned behind her. The next scene displayed Camille with her head in an old-fashioned oven, arms hanging limply at her sides, unable to live with her actions. Terri turned her back, face in hands. She hadn't loved Camille, but evidently liked her. "Mistake," she said woefully and dissolved into a looming black square that zoomed in behind her.
More fast-forwarding, until Alastor appeared grade-school-aged. Depressed Bert downed shots and collapsed into an armchair. Child Al reached out his arms longingly but was disregarded. He finally ran...and dove into the six arms of the spider! Once alone, Terri aggressively dunked a doll into a bowl of liquid. The widower guzzled straight from his whiskey bottle, then shot himself, leaving Alastor alone with Terri, who'd arrived to hold the traumatized child and play the 'hero.'
"Wait, wait, wait. What about Camille's deal?" Charlie interrupted, and 'ugh!'ed in outrage at Tom's answer: 'No suitable replacement.' "He found out about most of this, eventually?" Tom nodded affirmatively. "Yeahhhh," Charlie murmured, thinking of the hammer and nail, "that would do it..."
The shadow film reel ran out, flickered to black. Tom ended on the main point he wanted to convey to Charlie: 'She rips apart families to knit one back together for herself.'
Having her own home broken decreased Terri's respect for others' families? Alarming. "What ripped her family apart?"
'She did.'
"I appreciate the warning, Tom, but my family's already broken, so I'm unusually safe from this threat." Time to pounce. "How did you and Terri...meet?" Charlie hoped Tom, if a prisoner, could answer honestly.
Tom cast himself being sucked into a black hole while pushing a small girl out of the way. Panning back revealed it was the unhinged jaw of a gigantic dragon. Tom was swallowed whole and landed at the feet of Miss Monster, who abused him. After being kicked and slapped, hands broken, turned into a pumpkin and squashed before being resurrected, Tom was impressively resilient. He lived under a rain cloud but tried making the spider laugh because she was trapped within her own rain cloud at the center of a lightning storm. 'ALONE,' raged Miss Monster's caption. Bamboozled, Tom gestured at his own 'Alone' caption, but the spider refused to engage. After attempts over what Charlie guessed were years, Terri finally laughed once, then again and again, gradually transforming into a beautiful…queen? (It was an elaborate, queenly crown, but Tom illustrated it as too big, like Terri reminded him of a child playing dress-up.) Tom plucked a rose from a shadow garden. Terri smiled at him with new warmth and accepted it.
Concerned for the psychological state of Terri's prisoner, Charlie asked directly, "I'm glad things improved, but…you can't leave, can you?"
A tense pause. Tom hoped this wouldn't detract too much from his desire for Charlie to treat Terri. 'Help a friend out?'
Charlie melted and nodded emphatically. "Of course. Is anyone else here?"
'I'm the only one left.'
Yikes. "How do I free you?" It probably wasn't as simple as dragging him through the portal.
'My eyes. It's how she traps souls. I can't take them myself.'
"Show me."
Tom paused, wondering if this was a pointless exercise, but led her to the mirrored door. Somehow, he knew this unusually warm young lady could see the real trophy room—or what remained of it. Once Alastor left, depressed Terri first consolidated the contents of the failure drawer with the trophy room, then abandoned it almost entirely. Only a few items were intact, all others left to deteriorate into sad piles resembling ash or sawdust, without the dutiful replication of years past. There was a framed bouquet of dried flowers on simple notebook paper; a structure eerily reminiscent of the glass casket from Snow White; two fencing swords hung crossed on a wall. On a shelf, something that looked like a doll's voice box sat alongside a white, faceless cloth marionette, which held a gilded wooden apple that looked like it once belonged to a decorative table set. Most attention-grabbing was the chandelier…of beaded string and hardened amber…filled with eyes.
"What is this place?" Charlie whispered.
'Trophy room. Once. I think she stopped feeling proud of anything.' Tom deliberately cast his captioning on the wall just under a stained-glass window to draw attention to it. Unlike child Alastor, Charlie immediately recognized the symbolism of the falling rose petals. Oof.
Charlie roamed the room, gently brushing fingers against the remaining treasured artifacts. "Do I want to know?" she asked of the glass casket and, deciding she didn't, moved on. 'From Alastor, when he was a kid,' said Tom of the flowers. Of the apple: 'She says she liked to play catch with that, with one of her boys.' Of the doll: 'Moonshine—her first puppet.'
Charlie's attention switched back to the chandelier, which presumably contained Tom's eyes. She levitated, stepped into the center of the impressively large structure, and turned a circle, distracted by the eternal, rapt attention of hundreds of eyes. Pupils glinted and irises glimmered through the warm glow of the amber under light. It was a fascinating and beautiful art piece. The princess, who'd always wished to be seen, easily saw the appeal, the comfort of surrounding oneself with eyes positioned to stare only at you. Like a warm blanket of recognition. She blinked away tears, snapped herself out of it. "Which ones?" Tom pointed them out and Charlie carefully plucked the amber encasements from the structure.
Suddenly, the room tremored as the wind outside swelled powerfully and hail hammered the stained glass, as if someone were aggressively shaking an actual snow globe. Charlie gasped and shot out of the center of the chandelier like a cannonball, fists curled, believing she was being confronted. But this wasn't a reaction to her; the storm raged, but no sign of Terri. Charlie clutched Tom's eyes and laughed nervously, "Perhaps apologizing is not going well." Tom slapped a shadowy hand over his mouth and doubled over with silent laughter at the very idea of Terri apologizing. "Oh, I see she's famous for this."
Tom tugged Charlie's hand. 'She'll be back soon. You need to go.'
Charlie motioned as if to tug his hand back, frowning at his intangibility. "We need to go."
Tom shook his head. 'Take them but don't crack them out yet. Need to calm her. Don't want her taking it out on you.' He patted Charlie's shoulder. She reminded him of Daisy.
"No! I'm not leaving you!"
'You think a day or two more will kill me?'
Charlie was extremely conflicted. "Is there anything I can do for you immediately?"
'Order me a pizza.'
"What?"
'Go, quick. If I don't see you again, good luck.' As he hurried her through the portal, she barely concealed her inner turmoil until she was on the other side. This was escalating quickly. Taking slow, deep breaths, Charlie finished securing the eyes in the same heavily-protected safe that held the Terri doll with only minutes to spare before Terri returned to her den after her chat with Vaggie.
The princess understood Terri was not radically different from many of the worst souls in Hell, but this was…something else. She had Tom's eyes. She could defy his request, free him immediately, and forcibly eject Terri. But...Charlie didn't want to. Curse this character trait of hers, she wanted to help that monstrous old bat, even if it made Charlie question her own sanity. Anyway, Tom's shadow play suggested some things that offered hope. It confirmed Terri's crimes really were motivated by her desire for a family, painting a vivid picture of a woman who didn't understand she couldn't steamroll her way into obtaining one and broke her own heart driving others away. And it conveyed Terri could feel remorse (although, that may have been Tom's assumption). The princess thought there might still be a rainbow in there.
Her anxious step slowed as she approached the room she shared with her girlfriend. She'd sound faltering, weak. Charlie would just have to explain it. ...She wasn't crazy.
[X]
Vaggie was lying on the bed looking thoughtful and looked up when Charlie opened the door. The princess was briefly taken by the trembling of the moth's shoulders and twitching of her nose—a cute mannerism indicating that, while annoyed about something, she was still excited to share the news. "Hun! I just had an interesting exchange with Terri. She suggested I search for more dolls in case Alastor is so entertained by failure that he's hexing the customers." Charlie 'ugh'ed. Somehow, the idea of Alastor hating the hotel's mission was more hurtful than him plotting against her in a more nefarious way. "She also said he probably imitates what he learned from her."
"Still allegat—" Charlie paused. "…The points about Alastor are allegations."
"The points about her have support?"
Charlie grimaced and jumped into the deep end. "I just had an interesting exchange myself…with the prisoner in Terri's house." Vaggie's whole face crinkled like a leaf and she turned nearly magenta, trying to decide whether she was more upset by 'prisoner' or 'Terri's house.' "He confirmed she uses dolls and a lot of Alastor's claims, but we have to keep her around a while. …If she goes, so does he," Charlie misled, concealing that she had a way to free Tom immediately.
Why was she lying to her girlfriend? Why was she so determined to help Terri, a woman whose Supervillain Bingo card included 'serial child murder' and 'manipulating impoverished migrants?' …Because Terri gave her doubts, Charlie realized, and she was desperate to alleviate them. Because her belief that anyone could be redeemed gave her hope and purpose. It was her everything.
"Look. She thinks she needs to trap people to have anyone in her life. If I help her cope through letting Tom go and give her positive interaction, it might help her. Definitely changing my approach regarding Alastor, though. That relationship probably can't be fixed. I'll focus on teaching her to make new, healthy friendships."
Vaggie's one good eye ticked in disbelief. "Babe! You mean to say you'll still treat this woman?!"
A remark Charlie may normally have shrugged off felt heavy. "You think I'm crazy," she thought aloud.
Vaggie waved her hands crosswise. "No, hun, you're kind! But it's gonna put you and your clients and your business in danger! Charlie, I see now I made wrong assumptions. I think—" Ugh, this sucked. "—Alastor's judgment was right. I don't want her to ruin your dream!"
"Vaggie… Everyone thinks I believe we're in a Disney movie...but sometimes I think I'm the only one who remembers we live in Hell. Maybe she's extreme, even for here, but I want to believe anyone can get better!"
"I get you want to help everyone, but I want to help you! And..." Vaggie stumbled. She'd never drawn a line like this before, leveraging their relationship. "I'm not comfortable having a child-killer in the house."
"You knew these were the kinds of patients I wanted to treat, when we…" Charlie trailed off at a strange sound from behind the wall. They assumed it was pipes. Vaggie looked down. "Are you going to stay somewhere else, then?" Charlie eked.
"What? No! I'm obviously not going to leave you alone with her!" Charlie approached Vaggie for a hug. Concerned about her girlfriend's last question, Vaggie gripped her tightly and kissed her on the ear. "Didn't mean to worry you."
"I'll draw the line if I think we're no longer safe. You know that, right?"
Vaggie received her own kiss on the ear and smiled. The pipes quieted.
[X]
Context from about a month back:
The ring slip should have been anxiety-inducing but sweet. They both looked down in unison; then the perfectly-mirrored activity stopped. As Charlie reached down to pick it up, Vaggie stepped back. When Charlie's heavily flushed, crookedly-smiling face rose, looking stressed but hopeful, Vaggie's pale face just looked...stressed. The silence was so crushing, Charlie stoically pocketed the ring and fast-walked from the courtyard down the long hall to her office. Hahaha, who said you couldn't look away from an explosion?! They did not speak of it.
Charlie believed Vaggie had decided she was batshit insane and not a viable partner, but that wasn't the case. Vaggie wanted to marry Charlie. Her reservations were directed at her girlfriend's family—the most famously toxic one in history. That was the concern at the time of the failed proposal, anyway, but now a new one brewed. Vaggie loved how caring and merciful her girlfriend was, but that trait might keep them both mired in others' toxicity forever. The feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought about it matched eerily well with the hollow clanking of the old building's pipes, familiar to all the tenants.
The peculiar stretching(?) sound from today was new, though. Vaggie wasn't sure what that could be.
[X]
Note: I know I previously said Alastor tried telling himself Camille went to Heaven, despite knowing this information, but probably he was just trying to hope she'd be forgiven because she was coerced. If it makes you feel any better about the whole thing, those three kids from the end of the last chapter are foster kids she takes in to try to atone for what she did, and they are happy together.
Citation: The "buy me a pizza" gag is a direct quote/callback from the original House of Leaves book.