Disclaimer: I don't own Lockwood & Co.
That next night, we were in a cab, duffle bags packed, and headed towards the wealthy part of the city.
"So do you think this case is worthwhile?" I asked Lockwood.
Lockwood smiled. "I sure hope so."
I looked at George. He looked like he had forgotten something.
"George?" Lockwood started, "What's wrong?"
George snapped out of his trance. "Nothing. Just thinking."
Lockwood was about to say something, but we had arrived.
"Ah!" He said instead. "We're here."
We emerged from the cab, bags on our backs, and duffle bags in our hands. Our rapiers glittered on our belt in the dying sunlight. The house was big. No, scratch that. Big was an understatement. it was huge. It was a sprawling marble building, with grecian pillars holding up the great carved awning. Windows dotted the walls like eyes, rich red curtains as their eyelids drawn to cover their dark recesses. Rose bushes bloomed, coiling around the house, and vines snaked up it's walls like green fingers.
We followed Lockwood up the the front door. He grabbed the knocker, and knocked three times. The door swung open, and Mrs. Cartwright and what I assumed was Mr. Cartwright stood in the doorway. The man beside her was a whole head taller than his wife, with dark drown hair, and mirky green eyes. He had a great, squared jawline, and broad shoulders. He was clad in a white dress shirt, a brown tweed jacket, and dark brown dress pants and black dress shoes.
"Hello, I'm Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood & Co. Pleased to be here. These are my associates, Lucy Carlyle, and George Cubbins." Lockwood stuck out a gloved hand to shake, his gigawatt smile gleaming on his face.
Mr. Cartwright gave him what I assumed to be a smile, but looked more like a grimace. He took Lockwood's hand, shaking it firmly.
I stuck out my hand as well, and Mr. Cartwright shook it, and then shook George's pudgy one.
"Thomas Cartwright. Charmed." He said, giving the grimace again.
A small girl ran to stand Between the Cartwrights, hiding behind Mrs. Carwright's skirts. I assumed her to be the daughter Mrs. Cartwright spoke of the day before. She was blonde, like her mother, with the same eyes, wide, but instead of grey, they were mirky green, like her father's. Her hair was in two low pigtails, and she was wearing a light purple dress and grey leggings, along with some simple black flats.
"This is my daughter, Lily." Mrs. Cartwright stated, and hoisted the small girl into her arms.
"Come in, come in." She laughed, "You don't need to stand out there all night."
She was right. It's never good to hesitate at a threshold.
Soon enough, the Cartwrights headed out to a hotel, and left us alone with the great house. They then stated that we were free to make tea and have some biscuits if we so pleased.
The interior was just as grand. It had a large sprawling marble staircase with a red rug running up the middle. Two sets of great mahogany grand doors were on either side of the staircase, and another was on the other side of the room, along with another on the opposite side. In the middle of the floor was an intricate purple rug. Above us, the ceiling shone with a crystal chandelier. I looked at my watch, observing that the time was just about 8:00.
Lockwood soon enough found the kitchen, and put the kettle on.
"Alright." Lockwood said, sitting down in a chair opposite of me. "Here's the plan. I'll take the living room. George, you take the library. Lucy, you take the upper corridor, near the bedrooms. We will call for one another if we so need to. We all have the new walkie-talkies, right?"
George and I nodded in unison.
"Good. Then we're set."
The kettle whistled, and Lockwood found some teacups, and I found a package of cookies. After consuming to our fill, we filled our canteens with tea, and set off to our destinations.
And the horror of the night began.
When I arrived at my designated area, I lay my iron chains in a circle, and set down my backpack. I pulled the skull jar from the interior, and set in beside my feet. The plasm swirled inside like cream would in tea. The face was present, bulbous nose and bulging eyes as unpleasant as ever.
"Have you sensed anything yet?"
The face spun in a circle, almost like a top, and mock yawned.
"No. Have you? Maybe if you let me out, I could sense things better."
"Keep dreaming." I snarled.
"Oh, alright."
I detect some Creeping fear, some Malaise, and Miasma, but nothing too serious." I paused, and glanced at my thermometer. "The temperature is dropping rather fast, though."
"Hmmm... wonder what it could be."
"I'm not letting you out."
"Drat."
I stood there for a good while, nothing happening. The temperature continued to drop until it finally stopped just below 25 degrees. It was around twelve thirty the Malaise was beginning to stronger. I pulled on my gloves, zipped my parka, and drew my rapier.
"Pitter, patter, pitter patter."
I bolted into a strait-backed position, grip tightening on the hilt of my rapier. I narrowed my eyes, searching the darkness for the source of the noise. The footsteps sounded like someone walking barefoot on tiles. I focused in with my inner ear, and listened. I heard... faint weeping. And then a scream. It was so loud it caused me to flinch. The air grew thick, and heavy, growing even colder. I looked around, and noticed my breath was hanging in the air in puffs.
"Bang...!"
"Bang...!"
"Bang...!"
"Bang...!"
A noise sounded throughout the corridor, seemingly getting closer. A door behind me, which was ajar before, blew closed with the same bang! A sound that resembled breathing seemed to puff just beside my ear.
I pulled the collar of my coat up to cover my ears. The weeping got louder. I suddenly heard heavy footsteps, panting, and then a cold breeze passed me. I zeroed in on the source of the cold air. All I caught was a black form as it rounded the corner. The Malaise increased, and I tightened my free gloved hand on a canister of iron filings. The temperature had dropped to twenty degrees, and I pulled my hat onto my head. I listened again, and heard nothing. But...
Then I did. Something was crawling. Something unseen. I could hear it's fingernails scraping against the floorboards, raspy breaths arising from it, mixed with broken sobs. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, my own breaths raspy. As whatever-it-was passed, I could't see any type of form. But there was something equally as terrifying.
Wherever the thing was was leaving behind a trail of blood. It appeared in pools, the sobs increasing. It felt as if somebody ran a freezing finger down my spine. I straightened myself, and took a shaky sip of my tea, which felt good in my parched mouth. The heavy footsteps were back, tromping toward the source of the blood trail. The blood trail sped up, and the source of the crying turning into desperate shrieks.
"NO! NO NO!"
The footsteps and the shrieking disappeared into a room, and with a final shriek, the noises were gone. I stood in the darkness, eyes wide. I looked forward, and was about to call Lockwood on my walkie-talkie when I saw something.
It was the form of a young woman. She was thin, and pale. Her body was wispy, her legs solid until they reached her feet, which became semi transparent as they touched the ground. The same applied to her hands. The arms were solid, but began to fade, leaving her hands semitransparent. Her sandy blond hair hung down to her elbows, blowing in an unseen breeze. Her bangs were held away from her shaded face by a white ribbon. A lock of hair had fallen in her face from the bounds of the ribbon. She was wearing a grey sheath dress, with a high neckline that was just above her collar bones. The sleeves were loose, and hung just above the crooks of her elbows. The skirt of the dress hung just above her ankles, also billowing in the unseen breeze. The dress was plain, save for the thin black ribbon that was tied around the waist. Her feet were bare. Dripping from the unseen, shaded face were tears.
For the first time, I spoke. "I-I can help you."
The weeping stopped abruptly, but the tears stayed.
"I thought you loved me."
I stiffened at this, not expecting that kind of response.
"How could you..."
I opened my mouth to speak.
"HOW COULD YOU!"
The woman looked up, the shade covering her face dissolving. Her eyes were like black marbles, shiny, without pupils. The tears streaking her cheeks had turned red.
I ripped the canister I had been gripping free, and was about to throw it at her when she lunged forward.
Everything went black.
Hey there. Told you I'd update. Was that creepy enough? Sorry for the cruel cliffhanger. I will update soon. Locklyle fluff is coming soon, so don't worry. Hope you enjoyed! If you did, I'd love to hear from you!
Stay tuned!
~Starry