~a/n: can you believe that I am still giggling over the world "Violaf"? Do
this be crazy or what? Goodness. Anyway, this chapter takes place a week
after chapter 1. The children have been taken into a hotel, whose manager
needs staff to help him take care of it in the off season. Violet fixes
things and helps clean rooms, Klaus tends bar and keeps Mr. Winter's (the
manager) personal library, and whatever needs separated Sunny can usually
bite through. She spends most of her time in the kitchen tearing through
cellophane. Everyone is rather happy for a while, but I didn't want to
write all that out. I was eager to get into more Olaf n Violet-y goodness.
Morp.
C h a p t e r T w o
The window was broken in room 123, and the room was freezing. Violet stood at on the dresser, examining the window. The mechanism seemed intact, but stuck somewhere. At her feet was a can of oil and a few bits of wire. Her hair was tied back in a bit of yellow cloth Mrs. Winter had given her. She tore a scrap off the corner of the cloth in her hair, pit a few drops of oil on it, and probed where she felt it was stuck. A moment later she shoved the window down. She giggled, remembering how long it had been since she fixed something just for the fun of it.
"You have the cutest little girl giggle." A voice behind her said, and then mocked her blissful noise. In the darkened window, she saw the man's reflection behind her. It was a man with two eyebrows, and if she had looked at his ankle she probably would have seen makeup or high socks or any number of things covering the mark on his pale flesh. But she knew who it was.
"What are you doing here?" she stammered, touching the cloth in her hair absently as she remembered the missing ribbon.
"Did I not make myself clear when last we met? You run, I follow; you cry and I laugh evilly. And then we start this little routine all over-I discreetly insert myself into your residence, you tell them who I really am, no one believes you, I begin another of my evil plans, you three clever orphans thwart my plans, I get away just in time, you run away, and the cycle repeats itself. Nice little spiral dance, I like it. It's been comfortable, but it's not really as amusing as it once was. I don't enjoy this game as much anymore."
Violet felt a heaviness in her throat. She tried to ask him a million things, such as "Why can't you leave us alone?" and "What the hell is wrong with you?" but all that came out was a weak little coo. "Why?"
"Because I like you, Violet. You're a sweet little thing, gentle and kind. As I said before, you're a godsend." He took a step closer to her. "You're an angel to me. Pure, kind, soft, like white linen. I like that about you. I like everything about you."
"You are a sick man," she said weakly.
"That's probably true," he agreed, nodding his head pleasantly. He walked over to her and began toying with the stray bits of hair that had fallen over her face. He leaned forward and smiled.
A loud thunk from room 223 above them startled them both. "Shit, I gotta get out of here." He crossed the room in three strides and turned back. "bye," he said, blowing her a kiss.
She sat heavily on the floor. The words "deal with the devil" frolicked about in her mind looking for connection, but found nothing. She touched the little bits of her hair where his fingers had been and began to cry.
"Hey Violet, you wanna mess around with Mr. Winter's car? You can probably fix it." He stuck his head in the door. "Violet-where--?" and he saw her there on the floor, holding the bits of her hair and crying uncontrollably.
"He's back, Klaus. He was here," she sobbed hysterically as he crossed the room to where she sat. "He was here and he's going to kill us and we have to do something!!" she pulled at the strands of hair she was holding and sobbed into her brother's shoulder.
"What happened here? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said, pulling herself together enough to sit up and wipe her eyes hurriedly. "I guess I just panicked."
"Is this about the hair ribbon? Let me know if anything else of yours turns up missing."
"No, don't pull yourself into all this. I can take care of this. It's too dangerous."
"Excuse me, but remember me? You, me, and Sunny could probably survive nuclear war. Between the three of us, we could probably do anything. No one else can help us. It's not like I'm breaking into his room or something, I'm just keeping tabs." He stroked her hair in what he hoped would be a comforting way.
Violet tried her best to get through the day. When Mr. Winter waved a cheerful but tired goodnight, Violet went into the small bar room where Klaus was polishing glasses. There were few customers in the seven story hotel, and the room was empty accept for a young lawyer in a corner using a double bourbon to help him get through some very difficult books.
"Can I get you something, ma'am?" Klaus asked in a knowlegable voice that was beyond his years.
"No thanks. You sound like you've been doing this for ages."
"Hey, I'm enjoying this bartending gig. I've met some fascinating people lately, and I have a lot of time to myself, to think. And read. Mr. Winter has an incredible library, I haven't read this well since we were with Justice Strauss-"
"Klaus, you are an irrepressible bookworm."
"Shh, Vickie, I'm Kenny!" he hissed urgently, glancing around the bar. The lawyer in the corner wailed in an agonized fashion and through his head against his book.
"Right then. Where's Sammy?"
"Skinning turnips for the cooks in the kitchen. You know, I really think we'll get on quite nicely here."
"Assuming we can get Olaf out of here, and out of our lives, then sure."
"Oh, right," Klaus looked guiltily at his hands, which were holding a whiskey glass. "I.I'm sorry I forgot, Violet. I know this really bothers you, but I just got so distracted and it slipped my mind."
She shrugged. "It's okay. I can't say I blame you. I'm going to bed."
When she reached her room and undressed for bed, she looked over at the nicely made bed and saw something that made her blood run cold.
Her hair ribbon was lying on her pillow in a crumpled heap.
C h a p t e r T w o
The window was broken in room 123, and the room was freezing. Violet stood at on the dresser, examining the window. The mechanism seemed intact, but stuck somewhere. At her feet was a can of oil and a few bits of wire. Her hair was tied back in a bit of yellow cloth Mrs. Winter had given her. She tore a scrap off the corner of the cloth in her hair, pit a few drops of oil on it, and probed where she felt it was stuck. A moment later she shoved the window down. She giggled, remembering how long it had been since she fixed something just for the fun of it.
"You have the cutest little girl giggle." A voice behind her said, and then mocked her blissful noise. In the darkened window, she saw the man's reflection behind her. It was a man with two eyebrows, and if she had looked at his ankle she probably would have seen makeup or high socks or any number of things covering the mark on his pale flesh. But she knew who it was.
"What are you doing here?" she stammered, touching the cloth in her hair absently as she remembered the missing ribbon.
"Did I not make myself clear when last we met? You run, I follow; you cry and I laugh evilly. And then we start this little routine all over-I discreetly insert myself into your residence, you tell them who I really am, no one believes you, I begin another of my evil plans, you three clever orphans thwart my plans, I get away just in time, you run away, and the cycle repeats itself. Nice little spiral dance, I like it. It's been comfortable, but it's not really as amusing as it once was. I don't enjoy this game as much anymore."
Violet felt a heaviness in her throat. She tried to ask him a million things, such as "Why can't you leave us alone?" and "What the hell is wrong with you?" but all that came out was a weak little coo. "Why?"
"Because I like you, Violet. You're a sweet little thing, gentle and kind. As I said before, you're a godsend." He took a step closer to her. "You're an angel to me. Pure, kind, soft, like white linen. I like that about you. I like everything about you."
"You are a sick man," she said weakly.
"That's probably true," he agreed, nodding his head pleasantly. He walked over to her and began toying with the stray bits of hair that had fallen over her face. He leaned forward and smiled.
A loud thunk from room 223 above them startled them both. "Shit, I gotta get out of here." He crossed the room in three strides and turned back. "bye," he said, blowing her a kiss.
She sat heavily on the floor. The words "deal with the devil" frolicked about in her mind looking for connection, but found nothing. She touched the little bits of her hair where his fingers had been and began to cry.
"Hey Violet, you wanna mess around with Mr. Winter's car? You can probably fix it." He stuck his head in the door. "Violet-where--?" and he saw her there on the floor, holding the bits of her hair and crying uncontrollably.
"He's back, Klaus. He was here," she sobbed hysterically as he crossed the room to where she sat. "He was here and he's going to kill us and we have to do something!!" she pulled at the strands of hair she was holding and sobbed into her brother's shoulder.
"What happened here? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said, pulling herself together enough to sit up and wipe her eyes hurriedly. "I guess I just panicked."
"Is this about the hair ribbon? Let me know if anything else of yours turns up missing."
"No, don't pull yourself into all this. I can take care of this. It's too dangerous."
"Excuse me, but remember me? You, me, and Sunny could probably survive nuclear war. Between the three of us, we could probably do anything. No one else can help us. It's not like I'm breaking into his room or something, I'm just keeping tabs." He stroked her hair in what he hoped would be a comforting way.
Violet tried her best to get through the day. When Mr. Winter waved a cheerful but tired goodnight, Violet went into the small bar room where Klaus was polishing glasses. There were few customers in the seven story hotel, and the room was empty accept for a young lawyer in a corner using a double bourbon to help him get through some very difficult books.
"Can I get you something, ma'am?" Klaus asked in a knowlegable voice that was beyond his years.
"No thanks. You sound like you've been doing this for ages."
"Hey, I'm enjoying this bartending gig. I've met some fascinating people lately, and I have a lot of time to myself, to think. And read. Mr. Winter has an incredible library, I haven't read this well since we were with Justice Strauss-"
"Klaus, you are an irrepressible bookworm."
"Shh, Vickie, I'm Kenny!" he hissed urgently, glancing around the bar. The lawyer in the corner wailed in an agonized fashion and through his head against his book.
"Right then. Where's Sammy?"
"Skinning turnips for the cooks in the kitchen. You know, I really think we'll get on quite nicely here."
"Assuming we can get Olaf out of here, and out of our lives, then sure."
"Oh, right," Klaus looked guiltily at his hands, which were holding a whiskey glass. "I.I'm sorry I forgot, Violet. I know this really bothers you, but I just got so distracted and it slipped my mind."
She shrugged. "It's okay. I can't say I blame you. I'm going to bed."
When she reached her room and undressed for bed, she looked over at the nicely made bed and saw something that made her blood run cold.
Her hair ribbon was lying on her pillow in a crumpled heap.
