Haunting
Chapter five: Fire
Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-
A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.
BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.
Add. Disclaimer: I do not own Hawkeye. She belongs to iDefy Gravity. Go read her stuff. Its awesome! (She helped me write the parts with Hawk, btw!)
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"I like the ephemeral thing about theater, every performance is like a ghost - Its there, and then its gone." - Maggie Smith
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As soon as Elizabeth ran into the house she knew she had made a deadly mistake. The heat crowded her, so hot she could barely breathe. The smoke stung her eyes and she had to blink back the tears that sprang up.
Here, sound was gone. She knew her mother had to be screaming, knew the sirens were blaring, but all she heard was the animalistic roar of the flames as they leapt higher and higher around her.
Bolting for the stairs, one arm held out in front of her so she could feel her way through the thick, acrid black smoke, she stumbled against the bottom stair. Thanking God above her parents hadn't carpeted the thick wood, she sprang up them, dodging the flames she saw licking at the sides.
"Race!" She screamed, voice scratchy with smoke. Coughing her hand flew over her mouth. "Race!"
Where was he? Why wasn't he answering her? He was a ghost for heaven's sake! It's not like he couldn't get to her. But...what if he couldn't? That thought had never entered her mind before. What if Race couldn't get to her? Had she trapped herself in a burning building with no way out?
Even though it was hot enough to melt metal in the house something cold slid down her spine. Fear. Halfway to panic now, Elizabeth screamed and sprinted up the final stairs, calling for Race frantically.
Panic of any kind in a disaster wasn't good. She knew that. Didn't change the fact that she was doing it. The ceiling above her creaked and groaned and she gasped, watching as a beam fell. It filled her vision until she slammed onto the ground at the top of the stairs.
Landing with a crash, and demolishing some of the stairway, the beam lay there, encased in flames and spreading to the banister and walls. She had to have moved out of the way. That was all she could think of as she got to her feet and turned toward her door.
Nothing but a flaming wall met her vision.
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Sitting on the floor, Race stared straight ahead, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He knew the flames were going to reach the room soon, could hear them licking at the door, but he didn't care. He wasn't there. Not really.
"Hey, Race. Whatcha doin heah alone?"
Turning his head toward the voice, the Italian offered up an easy grin. "Watchin the race, Mush. You've known me foah how long now? You knew I'd be here."
"Yah." Mush gave him a nod and a smile. "Racetrack Higgins at the races... Imagine that."
---
"Do ya believe this?!" Blink threw down his half eaten piece of bread in frustration. "I aint makin enough for them to do dis to us. Stupid Pulitzah and Hearst!"
"Rich people have it so easy." Someone yelled from the back. "They should try bein in our shoes!"
"If we have any!"
At the spark of angry laughter, Race looked up from where he was playing solitaire. "Its all they know. Can't blame them for followin how they were raised."
"Watch meh."
---
Race felt like the air had been sucked right out of him. Spot, at his side, could only stare, shock turning into rage as David and Jack talked. The bulls were keeping them from interfering, but at the moment...It didn't matter.
"Race!" Blink and Mush caught up with him while he was stalking away. Someone grabbed his arm, spun him around. "Race, come on.. You know Jack.. He didn't mean it. He..He's Jack!"
Staring into Mush's pleading eyes, Race jerked away. "I don't know a Jack."
---
"Its ovah." Spot sounded so relieved as he collapsed next to him, tipping his hat down over his eyes. "Finally."
"Yeah. Are you surprised?" Race silently slid a drink toward the leader of Brooklyn.
"Surprised? Why would I be? They were goin against Brooklyn, aftah all."
Race smirked and laughed. Brooklyn. Yeah. He was sitting there, drinking with big bad Brooklyn. Didn't mean all that much. Spot wasn't that bad a guy once you knew him.
"Hey, Race. How bout a pokah match latah dis week?"
"Have I evah refused befoah?"
---
Race sat with his heels on the table, looking down at his cards with a blank expression on his face. Spot sat across from him, and Hawk was to his left. Everyone else had given up, actually. They were tired of losing their money.
Hawkeye looked around the table and sighed before saying, "And the world's least interesting poker game is..." She raised her eyebrows at the other two, figuring they felt the same way.
Spot nodded and placed his hand flat on the table, smirking. "Anyone feel like makin it more interesting den?"
"Please." Race muttered under his breath.
Hawkeye leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "How?"
Looking around at the other two, Spot's smirk slid into a grin. "Dere's dis house on da edge of Hattan. A few of me boys went dere a few weeks back. Ya know, to satisfy some curiosity."
"A house." Race repeated slowly, setting his cards on the table, chin cradled in one hand. "Conlon, you've lost your mind. What's so special about a house?"
"Dis one's haunted."
Hawkeye rolled her eyes, "Okay. Your little house is haunted, and I'm gonna be the next Medda Larkson," She snorted. "Really, Spot, we're not kids." She glanced over at Race, smirking. "Well, at least one of us isn't."
Race stuck his tongue out at her. Childish, but he couldn't help it. It was the perfect moment to do it. He looked over at Spot and laughed when he saw the leader rubbing his face.
"All right, Conlon. Let's say we believe you. Your little house is haunted. So?"
Spot shrugged. "Whoever loses has to go in it. Trust me... My kids ran out screaming." That was saying something right there. Brooklyn kids didn't go screaming. And they didn't run.
Race knew it was coming even as Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "Really. Did they?" she looked sideways at the Italian gambler, "You hear that? The big, bad house scared away Brookies." She couldn't help smirking at the idea of that actually happening."
Spot ended it right then and there. Teasing, maybe, but that was his borough she was talking about. "Well den. Don't lose and you won't have to worry bout it." He picked his cards back up and turned them over. "Whatcha got?"
---
Why he was here... he had no clue.
Staring up at the house that looked the same as every other house around, Race sighed and put his hands in his pockets. No matter what people said, if people had come running and screaming out of that place he didn't want any part in it.
But a bet was a bet. And a dare a dare.
Since Spot had to conveniently go and dare him to go in alone as well.
Hawkeye, still not believing in something as silly as a haunted house, rolled her eyes. "Race, would you just go in already? Shockingly, I'd like to get on with my life. Watching you stall isn't exactly what I want to be doing." She said it all in an annoyed tone, but the grin on her face gave away that she wasn't serious at all.
"I just don't see why we have to do all dis at night." For some reason Race was getting chills. And it wasn't from the cold wind. "Can't we just come back tomorrow?"
"Stop bein a baby." Spot snorted, thrusting a candle into his hands. "You lost. Go pay up and be thankful I'm not takin your money."
Hawkeye nodded, "He's right, Race. Would you rather have to give up your hard-earned cash?" Obviously she was being sarcastic, as it didn't take much to bet at the tracks.
Race sighed, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. Flashing them a wide smirk, he winked. "I'll show you dis place isn't haunted. Just watch me." Holding his hand around the flame so it wouldn't blow out, Race walked up the hill and pushed open the wooden door, jumping as a large black bat flew over his head.
Not his most graceful moment.
Hawkeye cringed as the bat flew out, but quickly covered her anxiety, nudging Spot in the ribs and sending him a smirk to which the other returned. "He'll back out."
Race, standing back up and fixing his hat, turned and gave them a smile, before disappearing inside the house.
First thought. It was pretty dark in there, even with a candle.
Second thought. It spelled suspiciously of alcohol.
Stumbling over something he really couldn't see, Race ducked under cobwebs and jumped over things he would rather not investigate. The whole house smelled, and the gambler had a sickening thought.
Why was the house abandoned in the first place? Maybe Spot was right. Maybe someone had died here and the house really was haunted. A chill ran up his spine as he started up the staircase. He was going to check out the second floor and then he was done.
He really didn't care what Spot would say at this point.
Tripping on the last step - it jutted out a little farther than the others - Race landed hard on the ground, half on and half off the top step. "Ow." He mumbled, raising his head and pushing himself to his feet.
Something sharp pressed against his arm and he hissed, dropping the candle on reflex. Yelping he turned it upwards again and pulled out the glass shard that had embedded itself in his arm. Forget being haunted, this place was dangerous on its own!
Sighing he got to his feet, feeling the blood seep across his shirt. He was all ready to leave, but something in the corner of the hallway caught his eye. Picking the candle back up he moved to go see what it was, the candle held out away from his body to spread what little light it gave off.
"See. This isn't so ba-" His sentence cut off in a yell as the floor gave way underneath him. Crashing through molded and broken floor, Race landed hard on his back, head hitting a beam hard. The last thing he saw, before his vision went black, was his candle, lying back up where he had fallen.
On its side and spreading fire across the alcohol soaked floor.
---
Elizabeth stared at the wall of fire in shock. Her room.. It was past all that fire. "Race!" She screamed, knowing somewhere deep inside that if he was going to hear her, if he was going to come, he would have already showed.
As to what that meant, she had no clue. All she knew was that she had to get out of there. Her house was going up in flames. She could barely breathe as it was. Turning on her heel, and coughing hard, her heart fell and shattered by her feet.
The staircase was on fire.
"Oh my God." She breathed, spinning in a circle. Trapped. Hyperventilating now, she rushed to the banister and leaned over. Too far to jump. There wasn't any way but through the fire.
"Race! GOD, RACE!" She screamed, sucking in breath after breath until the world began to dim...dim all the way to black. Collapsing to her knees, Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth, but couldn't stop as the darkness clawed over her and she fell on the floor, passed out cold.
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A long chapter for Christmas. Merry Christmas!