AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry for taking so long. . . I had a maths test today, have a science test tomorrow and two assignments are due next week. . .so sorry if this chapter isn't the best, and sorry I took so bloody long. . . well, there's a bit of a twist to this story that might leave you re-reading it when you figure it out. . . heh heh heh. . . and I hope you enjoy.
REMEMBER: 1. I don't own this. 2. I REALLY REALLY REALLY appreciate reviews. So if you can, and if you like, Please Review. Thank you. . . now,
Lets get to the good stuff!
I felt horrible. I had said things I didn't really mean, and I couldn't take them back. Silently I walked through the corridors of Warren's house, rapier swinging by my side as I searched for any remnants of the paranormal. A scream echoed through the house once again, shrill and tortured, but it was not one of us. It was otherworldly. My throat constricted at the bloodcurdling shriek, but I kept walking. It was getting colder; abnormally cold.
We had scoured the back of the house for an hour or two before coming back inside. There was obviously nothing there. Warren said there was, but I don't think he knew what was really going on. . . or he was trying to trick us. I don't think he would want to do that though, his temperament the other day showed that. My boots clacked on the floor, as the parquet flooring groaned and creaked under my feet. Suddenly, I heard something that made me stop in my tracks. I kept my rapier raised, and my hand crept to my supply of iron filings and lavender in my belt. *Crunch crunch*. . . *Crunch crunch*. . . creeeaaaaak . . .
George. That maniac was eating again. He seemed to believe salty foods would repel visitors, but I think that's just his excuse to bring salt and vinegar chips along to our missions. I wipe my hair back with my hand and stop again. A malaise creeps up my spine and I look in front of me. A wooden door, painted blue, stood there at the end of the hall. The room seemed to be right next to the laundry. . . I have a feeling, that whatever is on the other side of the door, will not greet me with smiles and hugs, and if it does, the hug won't be gratefully received.
A swish of a cape, a reflection of silver and a tall, slim figure stands behind me. I turn to face her and she scowls. "Lockwood."
"Lucy," I reply, nodding to the door. "Shall we?"
"Let's kick some ghost arse."
"Be careful Luce," I warned, and her scowl deepened, cementing onto her beautiful face. Her eyes glint in the moonlight as she listened for the visitor. The malaise ass thick and cold, and I suppressed a laugh as I thought of guacamole. I helped Lucy set the chain circle around us, and wondered why the visitor hadn't appeared yet. This was where the screams had come from, this was where the coldest part of the house was, this was near to where Warren had thought the visitor was, and this was where the thickest malaise felt. So why was there no sight? I couldn't see a thing. I moved out of the circle to search again and Lucy closed her eyes and listened. "I hear. . . crying. Something about. . . a. . . a. . ." her eyes shot open.
"Lockwood. Get in the circle. Now." Fear shone in her eyes.
"What do you-"
"NOW!" She reached out and pulled me in, and I felt a cold chill spread through my jacket. Close. Too close.
"It wanted you, Lockwood. It's a type. . . type. . t-t- three." It dawned on me now. The serenity and quiet in here. . . it had been a trap. This thing was dangerous. I pulled out my rapier and glanced at Lucy. That quiet determination that I loved had set upon her face, and she nodded. She knew where to look.
"Lockwood, I know where the source is. Cover me." I did. She leapt out of the circle and I saw the black shape swirl towards her. I slashed my rapier in a furious pattern, and the visitor retreated, but not for long. It rushed me, talon-like protrusions reaching out for me. I threw a salt bomb, and again it retreated, and a screeching filled the air as the visitor smoked. A clink of metal sounded and the malaise in the air lifted, the visitor disappeared and Lucy came back holding a box covered in a silver chain. She was grinning.
"I heard him." The grin on her face disappeared. "He died of Asphyxiation, choked by his wife. It was horrible." She handed me the box. "This, will earn a day in court for the wife of Alastair McAdam." She turned on her heel and walked to the door, all willingness to work with me gone the instant her life was out of danger.
THANKS FOR READING AND REVIEW! Locklyle will hopefully be patched up soon!
