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A week has finally drawn to an end, the Blitzkrieg boys managed to gathered some information of the three names that Kai had given out early in the investigation.
George Lightfoot was the owner of the house and his wife's name was Anna, they had a son named Mitchell, but he was taken away from them when he was in his early teens. They had a family dispute, Anna and George were having marriage difficulties and wanted a divorce, but remained together for Mitchell.
Mitchell, however, believed that all the marriageable problems was his fault and committed suicide a few hours after a large family conflict. Anna and George blamed each other for their son's death, resulting in George beating his wife to death in a fit of rage, then committing suicide himself.
Rumors from those times suggested that George had dabbled in the satanic art, hoping to use this dark art to be rid of his wife once and for all. It is also said, that is why the house is haunted today. George was being punished for his crimes on earth, taking Mitchell and Anna with him.
Mitchell was said to be a skinny boy, with long hair and green eyes who was an amazing artist. He was a lonely boy, who wanted someone to be his friend. Often found sitting under a tree, any tree and draw whatever came to mind. Although a sweet boy at heart, his drawings were considered dark and unnerving.
Rick flicked through the typed booklet that the Russian team had sent them, filled with the copied documents of the house, old newspaper articles and the old will.
For whatever reason, whenever Rick came across Mitchell's name he would think of Michael, and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was because Michael seemed to speak about Mitchell a lot, but wouldn't practically say why. He had also started to draw. Now, Michael has never been an artist, but everyone brushed it off, believing that it was just a part of the recovery phase, since, out of all of them, Michael had taken the brunt of what this house had to offer.
Keeping their promise the Blitzkrieg boys had stayed in America for a week after the blessing, but now were back in Russia, giving them their word that they will continue to research the background of this house.
They've done an amazing job so far.
The All stars too are getting ready to leave this place. They found a hotel that will take them all, nearly on the other side of the country. They couldn't wait to get as far away as possible. Two sleeps left in this house, then they were free.
Rick lifted his large frame of the sofa he was sitting on, cracking the muscles in his neck and lifting his arms over his head until he heard a satisfied pop in his back. He grumbled something as he scratched the back of his neck.
It was getting late, and he went in search for Michael, wondering if he was still up. During this whole traumatic experience, he and Michael had grown close. Rick being overwhelmed with the urge to protect the younger teen, and Michael wanting someone who could protect him through everything.
He walked until he reached the study, turned art room area, watching as Michael continued to draw with his back to him.
"Michael?" Rick spoke. "Aren't you going to bed?"
"Later," Michael said, not turning from the picture, not even glancing over his shoulder. "I want to finish this."
Rick rose an eyebrow and let his eyes wander over the drawings that littered the floor. Some where paintings, some were water colored while others were sketches, he even managed to find some charcoal to draw with.
"But it's nearly midnight."
"I'll go to bed as soon as I'm finished, ok?" Michael said. "I promise."
Rick gave a frustrated sigh and threw his arms up in surrender. "Fine, I can't seem to talk you out of it. You better go to bed soon."
"Yeah, yeah," Michael absentmindedly waved his hand at him.
Rick turned to leave, throwing a glance over his shoulder and shook his head. He left and ventured towards his room, ambling upstairs, thinking the sooner they get out of here the better.
… … … … … …
The last day they'll have to spend in this house, ever, has finally arrived. Rick blinked open his eyes and gazed up at the cracked ceiling above him. He gave an undignified snort and rolled out of bed. After scratching around and a few curses, Rick stumbled out of his room, into the hall.
He looked down the hall, looking towards Michael's room. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if Michael actually went to bed last night. He didn't hear him.
He shrugged and ventured downstairs, into the kitchen, noting that Judy was already up and sipping on her hot coffee.
"Good morning, Rick." Judy greeted. "Ready to move tomorrow?"
"I've been ready for the past month," Rick muttered, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"It ends tomorrow," Judy said, a feeling of relief edged in her voice.
"Is Michael up yet?" Rick asked, after taking a large swig of black coffee.
"He was up before me," Judy replied. "He's still painting. He seems to be doing that a lot lately."
"Eh?" Rick muttered. "Painting again?"
Rick polished off his coffee, left the kitchen, and headed to the art room. He walked in behind Michael, noting that even more pictures littered the room. Most of which are dark and symbolic.
"Michael?"
"What?" Michael murmured.
"Did you go to bed last night?" Rick frowned when he got silence as a response. "Michael…"
"I had to get these down," Michael sniffled slightly.
Rick's frowns deepened. "Are you crying?"
"N…, no."
"Michael…"
"Leave me alone, please," Michael muttered and continued to draw.
Rick lifted his hand to place it gently on his shoulder, but decided against. He could feel this sense of hopelessness surrounding Michael. A feeling of distress that seemed inconsolable. He sent Michael one last glance before leaving the room.
He headed into the lounge room, eyeing off the documents that the Blitzkrieg boys sent them. He picked them up and flipped through the pages, looking for something. And there it was, a small white card wedged between a few pages.
It had Kai's mobile phone number written in perfect, precise handwriting and a small note across the bottom. It said that they could ring this number at anytime, anywhere.
Rick picked up the card, his finger flicking across the edge. He tapped it against his chin in thought. It wouldn't hurt to ask a question or two, would it?
He nodded sharply, walked over to the phone and quickly dialed the number. He waited as patiently as he could has he heard the phone ring. A moment later there was a click and a voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey Kai, it's me," Rick said into the phone, leaning his back against the wall.
"Oh, Rick, how is everything?"
"All right, I guess. We're moving out tomorrow."
"So nothing out of the ordinary has occurred?"
"Not, really," Rick sighed. "I just rang to ask you a question."
"Yes, what is it?"
"It's about Michael. You see a few days after the blessing he has taken up drawing. He even spent all of last night drawing pictures," Rick said. "Is that normal? Like in part of the healing process or something."
There was a pause. "The pictures, what are they like?"
"Well, they're pretty dark, most of which have this large dead tree in the middle of it," Rick paused for a moment, trying to find the words to describe the pictures. "He also keeps mentioning Mitchell."
"And Michael?" Kai asked, his voice almost urgent. "Any changes?"
"Well, today, as he was sketching, I think he was crying," Rick answered.
"You have got to stop him!" Kai half cried into the phone. "Stop him from drawing."
"What?" Rick was startled, he has never heard Kai sounding so desperate. "Why, what is it?"
"It's Mitchell, he's in Michael's head," Kai replied. "You've got him to stop drawing immediately. He must cast Mitchell out before he is taken over completely. Stop him, stop him before it's too late."
Rick swallowed thickly. "What should I do?"
"You've got to help him, pull him away. Make him look directly at you and tell him to tell Mitchell to get out, tell him to make a stand," Kai said. "You've got to stop this now, before it's too late. Look hang up and call me back after you managed to pull Michael away. If you don't ring back this afternoon the Blitzkrieg boys and I will be on the next flight to America, ok?"
"Right," Rick subconsciously nodded, even though Kai wasn't able to see it.
"Hurry, Rick," Was the last thing Rick heard before he dropped the phone and ran towards the art room.
Towards Michael.
… … … … …
Oh, I'm not through with them yet (insert evil chuckle). Should I stop with all these mean cliffhangers? But if I didn't stop it here this chapter probably would never end.
Michael: Why is it always me?
Because… you're so cute.
Michael: -.-;
Next chapter: Will Rick be able to help Michael cast Mitchell out from within him?
Please review.
