Hello Again.
So a week off, and I hope everyone had a lovely Bank Holiday in the gorgeous Weather we had here in the UK!
Not long to go now, just a couple more chapters.
I own nothing. I own a pen. Now where did I put it...
Please review! There is still time for me to change my ending...
'Tom, canna talk to you?' Alex was tentative as she knocked on the bedroom door of the former werewolf.
As she peered her head around the corner she half gasped. The room was a mess, his bed was unmade and unrecognizable, covered in paper, dirty clothes and food – Alex guessed Tom couldn't have slept there in days. All of Tom's little 'motivation pictures' were hanging loose or completely torn off the wall, littering the now unsee-able carpet. Every wall had small dents and scrapes where it looked like Tom had been banging something hard and repeatedly against it.
She took a small step in, every drawer of the small chest was pulled out, some hanging onto the floor, their contents strewn amongst everything else. It looked like a wild animal had gotten into a frenzy.
It had been a while since she had been in Tom's room, but he had always kept it relatively tidy, hadn't he?
'What the fuck?' mouthed Alex to herself as she saw in the far corner, next to the bed beside the window was what she could only describe as a nest of blanket, cushion and stakes… Alex blinked, stakes? And was it her imagination, or did they look freshly carved? She moved closer, yes, there was the knife Tom must have used, and there were the shavings. Now that she noticed them, there were wood shavings everywhere, and crosses and lots of freshly carved stakes.
She bent down to look at a darker one, oh god was that… was that dried blood? There was no mistaking that deep dark reddish brown. That stake had been used, recently.
Run away
Alex realized she shouldn't be here; she didn't want to see this. She took a breath and retreated out of the room. Half stumbling over the refuse that cluttered her escape route. She was sure she would pull the door off it's hinges in her effort to shut it.
She half ran, half fell down the stairs to the phone on the reception desk, urgently punching the number she had memorized and waited impatiently to hear the click of the connection.
There was a ring tone. Once, twice, three times. Alex was tapping the counter with her free hand, 'C'mon, pick up. Pick up, pick up.' She muttered.
Finally a rather harassed 'Hello?' answered.
'Hal?' she said.
'Yes Alex, what is it? I'm at work?' He sounded so hostile. He sounded so hostile and aggressive all the time now she thought.
'I-I need to talk to you.' She breathed.
'Can't it wait?' he responded. She heard a female mumble on the other end. 'Then put them in room 15 and call David.' Hal responded. 'Look Alex I'm very busy here we're hosting the South Wales druid convention with weekend, can this wait until I'm home tonight?'
Alex looked around. Tom would be around then too. He was supposed to be here now, he could be back any second and she needed to tell Hal what she'd seen so they had enough time to think of a plan.
'No Hal it's can't. It's Tom.'
'What now?' Hal signed exasperated as another voice, this time male started asking him something. Alex hesitated, he really did sound busy, but no, this couldn't wait, this was Tom. 'No they can't. Tell them the imagery is fine but we can't have any oak leaves brought into the hotel I don't care how ceremonially accurate they are.' A pause. 'Because they're poisonous, and we have young children walking around.' There was a faint crash on the other side of the line. 'Oh for God's sake!' roared Hal, 'Alex I really have to go, someone is about to get murdered here.'
'Hal!' Alex almost shouted.
'Not literally Alex.' He shot back wearily.
'No Hal, I need to talk to you. I think-'
'Alex not now okay, I don't have the time or patience to pander to your paranoia complex right now.'
'Hal!' Alex protested, stung by his harsh words.
'Alex, I really can't deal with this-'
'I think Tom's hunting vampires again!'
There was a pause.
Alex half thought Hal had hung up.
'I'll be over in ten minutes.' Hal said and hung up.
Alex put the phone down slowly. That was quite a turnaround for Hal to drop everything, taking what she said with the seriousness it needed. Was that a good thing? Was he finally paying attention and realizing just how far off the reservation Tom was now?
Alex looked at the phone, a frown on her face. Okay, so Hal could hardly discuss those things at work – especially with the Harry Potter convention shacking up at the hotel or something. But his fast change from 'there's nothing' to 'I'll be over' was a bit quick. Wasn't it?
She should be happy, Alex thought to herself, he was doing what she wanted, taking her concerns seriously. Or was he?
It was Hal that Tom had been spending time with, surely he would have picked up on something before now. Which would mean he would take what she said seriously, but he hadn't at first. So why hadn't he?
She stared at the front door, he had said ten minutes; the walk from the hotel was fifteen at best. Would she have time?
Cautiously, Alex went up the stairs again, and let herself into Hal's room. Letting the door stutter to a stop before it hit the wall. It was quiet, the low late afternoon sun was shining through the curtains into Hal's perfectly made bed. It had been theirs for a while, then he had suggested they move a double into hers. His reasoning that her room was bigger and his wouldn't accommodate one had made sense at the time, but looking around she noticed the on the wallpaper the sun-bleached shape of a double bed headboard. So a larger bed had been here once, she frowned.
Warily, Alex stepped into Hal's room; everything was in its' place, although in a more relaxed way; the covers made, but there were creases where he had sat on the bed. A towel he used to wash his face was casually thrown over the rail rather than folded, a half read book was open and at an angle on the sofa, the wardrobe door was ajar.
She wandered over to it, wanting to shut it; She knew that it was Hal that had forgotten to close it, but she felt that he would have wanted it closed. She put her hand on the wood and paused, bringing her thumb to hook around the side and instead of pushing; pulled gently to widen the gap.
On the door were ties, lined up on hangers were his recognizable items, some spare work clothes, jacket, that hideous green suit, shirts, trousers. Below them were neatly lined up shoes; shiny black, suede brown, leather loafers. She frowned again, her eyes picking up on something out of place. There was a plastic bin liner in the corner, thrown to the back behind the shoes.
An all too familiar knot of foreboding and panic waved over her. A thousand TV and movie storylines came into her head – hidden packages were never a good thing. She hesitated.
This was private. She shouldn't be looking in here. She had crouched down, she suddenly saw herself stand up and close the door, leaving the room and not thinking about it. Run away.
But Alex Millar never ran away. Never used to anyway. So where had that voice come from, and why had she felt like she had been obeying it ever since they had defeated the Devil?
She swallowed, she didn't want to do this, she didn't want to be here, but part of her knew she had to look now. To not look would be admitting to herself that she was scared. And she had felt far too scared for far too long.
She reached in, and lifted it up. It was light, but it was full of something. She scooted back a bit so that she could put it down on the floor in front of here. The bag sagged. So it's not a severed head then, she thought with a nervous smile, ignoring the part of her that didn't see that as a ridiculous notion.
Cautiously she opened it, undoing the double knot with slow deliberate fingers. Run away. She wrapped her hands around the sides and slowly, Run away, opened the bag.
She paused, her breath held. What was she looking at? Her eyebrows knotted, her mouth formed a nonexistent question.
They were clothes.
Clothes. A long-sleeved grey t-shirt and black trousers as far as she could tell.
'What the hell?' she said, leaning back on her heels. She'd been holding her breath. 'Seriously, what the Hell!?'
Why would Hal hide these? She lifted one out, his familiar if musty sent coming off it in a pleasing waft. She looked at it, well it wasn't crusted with blood, and it looked just like his other buttoned tops so why was it and the trousers in the 'do-not-disturb-bag'?
She lifted it up carefully. Nothing.
Alex sneezed, some disturbed dust stinging her nose. She coughed, grit stuck in her throat.
Dust? Grit? In this room? Alex froze, she looked closer at the shirt, unmoving for a second, daring herself. She lifted it up and gave it one hard shake, particles flew everywhere in a cloud that seemed to shimmer in the sunset.
Her voice caught in her throat, a stifled sob escaped into the empty room.
It wasn't dust; it was ash.
Dun Dun Daaah!
Oh no! Alex is not gonna be a happy bunny!
So yeah, now that all madness has ceased, I should be able to update in a few days.
Until then my friends, adeu.