CHAPTER 44: Evidence

I decided to explore the art gallery and see if there was anything interesting to find. Climbing up rickety stairs, and nearly falling through twice, I finally arrived at a dead end.

"Aw, goddammit!" I cursed quietly as I looked around the room.

All I saw was a vent, a boarded up window, and a photograph on the flat surface of a jut on the wall. The picture consisted of a Cactus, a Chomper, a Sunflower and a Peashooter, huddled in a trench. They looked grimy, exhausted, and in pain, but on the other hand, they smiled for the picture. The picture was labelled at the bottom:

Prince Rupert, BC. March 5, 1956 ― civil war against immigrating plants. Fighters in trench from left to right: Samuela (Cactus), Joseph (Chomper), Dinè (Sunflower), and Hershel (Peashooter).

I then frowned slightly ― if this place belonged to humans, then what was a photograph of several plants doing in an obscure room? I then decided to explore the vent. As soon as I had put my leaf on it, bolts started popping out.

"What the . . ." I mumbled as the vent fell apart completely.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I looked into the hole that the vent left, only to see a gaping hole, riddled with dead spiders, mothballs, and rotting plaster.

"ACK!" I grumbled as I spat out the debris that had landed in my mouth.

As soon as the dust cleared, I climbed into the hole, which led me into what looked like a meeting room. On the table, I saw sheets of paper, audio cassettes, and a half-empty bottle of water.

"Hmm . . . maybe I could use some of this information to my advantage . . ." I mused as I started sifting through the papers.

All the papers that I saw were written in a secret code of some sort. Of course I could decipher it ― but I just didn't have the energy or the time to spend on translating a numeric code. All the papers were written in code but one. It was typed up with what looked like a typewriter. This guess was confirmed when I read the top of the paper.

xX―BLACKMAN-RYERSON'S TYPEWRITER―Xx

Tuesday, February 16, 1967.

"Blackman and Ryerson . . . Blackman and Ryerson . . ." I repeated to myself quietly. Somehow, someway, that name rang a bell. A faint one, at that. Sighing out of exhaustion, I proceeded to read the rest of the page.

Dearest Grandmother Rosette,

I am writing this letter to say that we, the Lethus family, are considering the declaration of war against our cousins, the Haliantherus family. Being the leader of this clan, you would probably make the decision . . . right? In any case, our cousins are RIDICULOUS. Why, just last month, they poisoned uncle Avlon, who is dying of typhoid fever as I type this in the secret room of Blackman-Ryerson's Coffee Shop. Not long after, these jerks just went on rampage against us. Of course, being at home, mending sheets (no offense), chances are high that you have not been in the know. After all that those bastards have done to us, it's about time that we have taken action. Please consider declaring war, instead of baking cookies as a truce.

Yours sincerely,

Reginald Staples Lethus

I frowned, trying to make sense of what I just read. After a few seconds, I realized that the Lethus family was responsible for this ― not my family. I was about to turn and go, when I heard someone coming through the hole. Wildly hoping in my head that Elias or Peater was coming through my head, I started biting the tip of my leaf nervously. After a few more seconds, I could make out the plant that had recently come through the hole. He had an orange head, red eyes, and a burning flame on the back of his head. When he saw me, he gasped as the flame on his head turned from orange to white, when it had finally settled on blue. The Flaming Pea narrowed his eyes as his flame finally turned purple.

And I could bet my soul to the devil that he did not look happy to see me. At all.

"Nosy slut! Can you for once keep your messed up nose out of the business of others?! Like JESUS CHRIST! You're too much, Elyssia. Way too much!" I gasped as I realized that the Flaming Pea was Ash.

"H-hold on! I had no idea that this room existed! I just went exploring ―"

I tried to protest, but Ash cut me off.

"Yeah, yeah. You and your curiosity are gonna be your very downfall."

Then his eyes widened.

"Y-you're dead! Please don't possess me . . . !" Ash whimpered, cowering in fear.

I laughed, and slapped his stem. "Idiot! Who told you I was dead? I never was, right?" Ash got up off the floor, and started choking me.

"Then I can stand here and have fun with you all year, right?" he sniggered.

I kicked the repulsive boy away instead of replying.

"I know that your family is anything but clean, Ash. Joining forces with the zombies, hurting Peater's family . . . tsk, tsk. Why, the proof is right in your bloody face!" I yelled as I found sheet after sheet of paper.

Although they were written in numbers, I could decipher the code easily because I had been doing it for a crazy long time.

"Well, would you look at that! 'Operation 19-01! Join forces with the zombies, and show Haliantherus family who's boss!' And would you get a load out of this! 'Operation 19-68! Poison clan leader!' Well, well, well . . . looks like I've got a lot of proof to land you in the chinks. FOR LIFE!" I exclaimed triumphantly.

Of course, part of the reason I wanted to read that proof out loud was so that I could prove Ash wrong. The other half was just simply for making him irritated. Ash growled as I gathered up the sheets of paper and held them up to his nose tauntingly.

"Oh you ―" he snarled as he grabbed the papers.

"You're standing on unsteady ground, Elyssia. You can keep the papers and allow those that you love to be killed or . . ."

He trailed off and ripped them into halves.

"You can let them live, and hope that they won't think that you've gone insane."