Available for download in PDF. I promise you that I don't have any viruses. I just strongly recommend it seeing as this was written in book format. Visit the Tumblr dedicated to this series, "11785", for details.

Or just read it here (:

SIX

Theology Department, Yale
New Haven, Connecticut
Saturday, October 7, 2006
6:18 AM

Taylor had sat slumped in her chair for the majority of the night, disappointed in the lead her Internet contact had given her and the result it had wielded. For the two hours after returning to school, both she and Amy had worked shoulder-to-shoulder in the Yale library, looking for the book title A had sent her way. Following that, the girls had spent another hour in yet another library, searching endlessly for Els Dimonis Mortals D'aigua. Finally, after what felt like a year, Amy had finally stumbled upon the thick volume, discovering it lodged in the foreign language section rather than folklore.

Unfortunately, as soon as they found it, there was no way to read it. With no clue as to what language it was written in, and with no one around to ask seeing as the New Haven Public Library was shutting down for the night, Taylor had become just as disheartened holding the weighty tome in her hand as she had been upon learning the expansive Yale collection hadn't contained what she was looking for. Without anyone that could translate it, they were back at square one again.

Spending hours upon hours online and watching the sky grow darker from her bedroom window, Taylor had tried every language site she could find in order to transcribe the book into English. When Latin, Italian, Spanish, and French came up with nothing, she had decided to forgo the effort and search the title via web for clues. Ultimately, though, all she got was a mixture of words she didn't understand, none of them pertaining to what she was looking for. Giving up on the thing entirely, and figuring A had either mixed up his e-mails or was too busy to give her a solid answer as to what she was dealing with, Taylor shot him another message near midnight, hoping to hear back from him sooner rather than later.

As the night wore on, with Amy sitting in the common room trying to make up the work she had missed during the day, Taylor had begun to get restless, deciding to take a walk around school rather than sit still. Making the trek across the courtyard of Old Campus and heading toward Chapel Street, Taylor cleared her mind as she strolled past the dark businesses and empty sidewalk cafés. In all honesty, she hated being stuck in one spot, in the middle of a problem she couldn't solve, and was beginning to get irritated with Amy for choosing to do her homework rather than help with the search.

After coming back from the library, most likely figuring that her job was done, Amy had taken a seat on the couch in the living area and had immediately buried herself under a pile of assignments that were undoubtedly not due for another month. From where Taylor's room looked out, she could see her friend hunched over a script and a psychology book, neither of them useful as to what they were now working on. During the drive back to New Haven, Taylor had overheard Amy apologizing profusely to Professor Emerson, her drama director, over the phone, claiming that she had missed the "second day of blocking", whatever the hell that meant, for personal reasons. Following a long lecture from the other end of the line, Taylor could hear the man recede his statement that Amy was booted from the cast for missing rehearsal, instead changing his tune to allowing her back in on the condition that she didn't miss another. Ecstatic, Amy had hung up and sped faster toward school, probably overly-excited to get back to memorizing her lines.

Rolling her eyes as she continued to walk, Taylor headed for the Dunkin' Donuts on the corner of Chapel and Temple, noticing that the place was open despite the rest of the deserted street. Slipping inside for a cup of coffee, the small building immediately smelled of baked goods and freshly-roasted beans, causing Taylor to calm down a little at the aroma. For some reason, she was beginning to feel high-strung about the case she was working, blaming her friend for the lack of results, and getting hardly any sleep. Ever since she had been clued in about what was happening in Willow, Taylor had neglected to doze off, instead electing to stay awake in hopes of some new piece of information coming to light in the wee hours of the morning.

Taking a seat two tables down from a pair of male students she remembered seeing on campus before, Taylor sipped her caramel latte and stared out at the wall, tiredness crowding her senses as she looked into the glaring white. Resting her head on her hands, Taylor kept her gaze fixed on the poster of a large orange cup of coffee behind the register, listening to the students as they both sat behind laptops, clicking away. It was clear that they had midterm anticipation fever like everyone else at Yale seemed to have, Amy included, and were burning the midnight oil trying to organize the notes that sat on the tabletop beside their computers. Wondering if maybe she was the one who was crazy rather than her friend, deciding to chase creatures instead of caring about school, Taylor listened to their rabid typing and paper shuffling, thinking maybe Amy wasn't as irritating as she thought. For the past three years she had attended the university, Taylor would have been right there with them in the libraries and in lecture halls, hoarding notes as though they were likely to save her life. Now, however, Taylor was choosing to follow a new kind of academic pursuit, learning about things that were seen but not seen and heard by not heard.

Kicking the thought away as the guys behind her started talking, Taylor took a sip of coffee and swallowed hard as she listened to their conversation.

"Dude, did you hear about that thing with those kids near Hartford? Weird, right?"

"Definitely weird."

"Yeah, man. I was taking a break right now and checking the news. Here, I'll instant message you the link. If you thought the first one was strange, this one definitely chocks it up to abnormal. Apparently the dad's going friggen nuts and being hauled off to that crazy ward, Arkham, in Norwich for claiming his daughter drew the thing that killed her or whatever."

Sitting up straight while the discussion died down, Taylor turned around to face them, noticing that one of the two had already been watching her. Furrowing her brow, she cleared her throat to get their attention, seeing the article that was being talked over prominently displayed on the screen behind one of the two. Asking them to forward her the site they were reading, and getting an overly-enthusiastic smile as she scribbled down her e-mail address, Taylor waited for the sent confirmation before picking up her coffee and heading back to her suite in Dwight Hall.

By the time she got there, she found Amy up and pacing the room, seeming just as restless as Taylor had been prior to heading out for a walk. Ignoring her friend as Amy attempted to shake off whatever energy might have accumulated from sitting still for so long, Taylor made a beeline straight for her Macbook, starting it up and finding an e-mail from Joseph Brisoski sitting in her inbox. Clicking it and opening the link, Taylor waited for the page to load completely before reading the article, finding it exactly as the guy had said. According to the Hartford Sentinel, David Hollbrook's daughter Natalie had been attacked just after nine-thirty at night and had disappeared just like Molly Walter before her. However, unlike Susan Walter's story, David Hollbrook claimed to the newspaper to have seen the thing that had taken Natalie in a drawing his daughter had been working on for most of the night. Scrolling down to see a scan of the image, Taylor saw a creature scribbled entirely in blue standing in the middle of a white page.

"Hey, so, I have an idea," Amy said suddenly, appearing in the doorway just after dawn. "I think I know who we can talk to about that book we have. You know Professor McDowell in the theology department? Word of mouth says the guy has some sort of vested interest in all things supernatural. Could be worth a shot."

Frowning and furrowing her brow, Taylor turned around in her chair to take her eyes away from the screen she had been staring at for the greater part of the night. "Who told you that?"

"Robin's a theology major. She called while you were gone."

Pursing her lips, Taylor shook her head at the suggestion, knowing better now than to trust anyone who gave them ideas as to what their next step should be. The last time they had listened to someone else, the person had wound up being a demon trying to lead them in the wrong direction. Taking Robin's advice that they talk to one of the professors might be a similar mistake, especially if the girl wound up not being who she said she was in the end. Telling Amy as much, the girl sighed and reached up to grab a lock of her hair, twisting it in her fingers as she stood in the doorway, gazed fixed on the drawing Taylor had been looking at for the past few hours.

"What's that?"

"Apparently there was another attack in Willow last night," Taylor shrugged. "I've been staring at it for the longest time, but I can't really figure out what it is. David Hollbrook's daughter drew it. She's like, nine years old or something like that."

Pushing off of the jamb she had been leaning against, Amy neared the computer screen, narrowing her eyes to get a better look at the sketch. After a long moment, she stepped back, frowning. "Huh."

"What?"

"It's just that, uh… We've been looking into creatures that come from water, right?" Amy said standing up straighter. "But what if this one is made of water? That would explain the blue crayon. Then again, it's just a kid's drawing, so who's to say it's accurate."

Smirking to herself, Taylor turned toward the monitor of her laptop, suddenly remembering why she was glad Amy was helping her with this case. For some reason, after staring at the thing for hours, Taylor hadn't come to the conclusion that the blue meant anything other than Natalie Hollbrook had run out of peach-colored crayon. Her friend, on the other hand, seemed to have figured out with the kid meant in half a minute flat. Grinning wider, Taylor decided to concede to Amy's suggestion that they talk to Professor McDowell, getting up from her chair and glancing at the clock just as six in the morning came and went.

"You think he'll be in his office?" Taylor asked as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"Probably. I mean, his first class is at seven according to his webpage."

Nodding and grabbing her purse, Taylor followed Amy out of their dorm and down to the first floor of Dwight Hall, making their way back onto Chapel Street to find their rented Lexus parked at the curb to take them nearly a mile up to Prospect and Division Street. Though they both knew it was lazy of them to drive such a short distance, they had less than an hour to get to Professor McDowell's office at the School of Divinity near the farthest corner of the Yale campus, and wasting time walking would be more of a hindrance than a help. Getting behind the wheel, Taylor navigated them to their destination, stopping in the empty student lot and hoping that no one was checking for parking passes so early in the morning. Hopping out, the two hurried toward the group of one-story brick buildings sitting on its own block, the edifices making up a giant square that encompassed a small chapel.

Stopping to look at the map detailing where to go, Taylor lead the way toward the first structure on the left, finding a door with the nameplate signaling the office of Professor McDowell at the very end. Knocking quietly at first, then louder a second time, Taylor and Amy stood patiently as they watched the shining wood in front of them to swing open, both girls rocking on their heels as they waited. After a long moment, the entrance finally cracked, revealing a short, mousy man with hair still wet and neatly combed from his morning shower.

"Ah, Miss Winchester, Miss Rosen! I was told by Miss Lister that you were coming."

Stepping aside to allow them space to pass, Taylor and Amy entered the room, both of them remaining quietly near the back until Professor McDowell offered them a chair. Taking a seat, Taylor watched as Amy crossed her legs and rung her hands nervously in her lap, becoming irritated at her friend's sudden shyness whenever it came to dealing with unfamiliar people. For some reason, she had always thought theatre students were more outgoing than Amy, who seemed to clam up whenever she was out of her comfort zone. Shrugging it off for now, Taylor turned her attention toward the professor and his very small, wood-paneled office, wondering what he could say that would be helpful.

"Now, I hear you have a book that you've been having difficulty reading. The, excuse my accent, Els Dimonis Mortals D'aigua, correct?" Professor McDowell began, botching the title. "Do you happen to have it with you?"

Furrowing her brow, Taylor nodded, curious as to how much Amy had told Robin on the phone. If the girl was going to be leaking the details of what they were doing to her friends, Taylor wasn't so sure she wanted Amy on the case. Still, Amy had proven helpful so far, and it was possible she had spilled the beans for Robin for a reason. Ignoring it, Taylor reached into her purse to withdraw the book, noticing the grin on the professor's face as she placed it on the desk in front of him.

"Ah, yes. I know this one well. The title means The Demons of Deadly Water in Catalan—a language that was big in Valencia, Spain around the fifteenth century. I think this was written in or around 1480 as a reference guide for the creatures that were said to be left out of The Bible, though it was later changed to just a book of fairy tales like the Grimm Brothers wrote about three hundred years after the fact." Pausing a moment, Professor McDowell bit his lip. "Dare I ask where you found this? I happen to know that only three updated copies had been published in 1970, and all of them were said to remain in their country of origin."

"I found it at the public library," Amy frowned.

Shaking his head, Professor McDowell laughed. "How very odd."

"Yeah, sure is," Taylor said, sounding hastier than she had anticipated. "What's so special about this thing? I mean, what's in it?"

"Stories about creatures of the deep, I imagine," Professor McDowell grinned, not seeming disheartened by Taylor's rush. "From what I've heard about it, it proves to be an interesting read once you've translated it correctly. However, finding someone that speaks Catalan is quite a difficult task, especially in New Haven. I, myself, know nothing of the language."

Biting her lip and deeming the professor further useless, Taylor leaned forward to grab the book off the desk before the man could crack it open, her thoughts focused solely on discovering what was written inside. If A had recommended that she read it, and now that she knew the thing had to do with sea monsters of some sort, it was likely that his lead hadn't been as bum as she had thought. Suddenly interested in returning to her suite to find something online that could help her decipher it, Taylor absently got to her feet and headed toward the door, carefully slipping the book back into her purse. Behind her, Taylor could hear Amy apologizing for taking up the professor's time and for her friend's abrupt departure before slipping out after Taylor into the gray morning that now covered the area around them.

"So, what now?" Amy asked, leading the way toward their rental car.

"I want to head back to our room, see if I can get this thing put together in English before we do anything else," Taylor answered. "If Professor McDowell thinks it's going to be interesting to read, then it might be. The only way to know is to actually decode it."

Stopping for a moment, Amy bit her lip. "What about David Hollbrook?"

"What about him?"

"Shouldn't we go talk to him?" Amy frowned. "I mean, if the guy's daughter is missing just like Molly Walter, shouldn't we try to see if he saw anything? It might help a little." Shrugging, Amy pursed her lips. "Unless you want me to go by myself."

Grinning, Taylor looked at Amy with renewed excitement, glad now that her friend was finally catching onto how this was supposed to work—or according to her web informant, anyway. The way she saw it, if they were going to be solving this together, Amy had to pull her own weight instead of waiting for Taylor to figure everything out herself. Now that Amy had suggested that she help out, Taylor was no longer irritated at her friend—a sensation that seemed to wane in and out. Though she couldn't place her finger on why, Taylor had a feeling Amy knew what she was doing and was purposely slacking.

Tuning back into her friend's expectant stare, Taylor cleared her throat and dug the keys to the Lexus out of her bag. "Listen, just drop me off at Dwight and head to Norwich. David Hollbrook is holed up in an asylum there. And try not to get pulled over, this car's in my name and you're technically not supposed to be driving it."