Chapter 2: Young Adolescence
A pair of scissors was snipping horizontally across a cascade of black hair, the pieces falling to floor like feathers from a bird, the sounds of the blades crossing filling the small room.
Layla stared at the mirror with hard electric blue eyes, almost looking like pieces of chipped ice. The young girl was now thirteen, ten years since her mother had disappeared. She sets down the pair of scissors with a soft clank as the metal hit the countertop. Layla looks at her handiwork, her once extremely long hair was now shoulder length, it looking feathered around the frame of her face.
Over the course of the years her hair continued to grow and grow, her father never once bothering to cut it. It was the final straw to her when she broke yet another brush trying to get through over five feet of hair. So, she decide to cut it off, although she felt a pang in her heart that her mother would've been disappointed.
You're such a pretty little girl, Layla Amelia, your long hair is so lovely!
Layla shakes her head at the small memory of her mother. It didn't matter now, the woman wasn't around. She raises her left hand, seeing how her thumb and pinky were just nubs compared to the rest of her fully formed appendages. The raven-haired adolescent sighs as she cleans up the hair in the small bathroom that was attached to her bedroom, her throwing the black strands into the trash bin without a second thought.
Once she was done she leaves her bathroom and was once again in her bedroom. Her bedroom had changed very little over the years as her father rarely left the house; it was a wonder there was even food on the premises with how little he left. She had the same twin bed she has had since a toddler, a few of her baby blankets folded neatly at the end and the only source of a comforter was a thick quilt that she had made out of her baby and toddler clothes.
Rarely did she ever see her father leave the basement, she rather not ask questions. In her mind she held onto the thought that her father was looking for a way to help people. Sometimes she saw a random person enter the home, but she never saw them leave. She sometimes wonders what had happened to them, but she ends up putting it on the back burner of her mind.
Layla goes to her closet and grabs a long, solid black cloak and puts it around her. She puts the hood over her head, only showing her extremely pale skin. In a way she looked like she was a ghost, a wandering spirit.
The young girl pokes her head out of her room, seeing if she could get a glance of her father. When he wasn't in sight be headed straight to the door that led out of their home. As she opened the door she once looked around to make sure her father wasn't around as he would be furious if she was leaving the house. Swiftly she leaves and gently shuts the door behind her with a soft click, her holding the cloak tight around her.
A light mist of rain was outside, the sky a cloudy, dull grey. Her brown boots crunched against the damp rocks as she ran down a makeshift path into the woods. During these days that she could get away, she enjoyed being in the woods as she saw many strange things that was in Gravity Falls, Oregon.
Layla always saw gnomes running around, them climbing on each other to get to higher heights. Sometimes she saw what looked like a bear with more than one head, or an extremely large man-bull looking thing that ended up punching large boulders all the time. But what she really enjoyed about the oddness of Gravity Falls was its occupants.
She heads into the small, sleepy town, the rain keeping most people inside. Her brown boots clapped against the wet pavement of the sidewalks of town, her seeing the shops that were filled with various items. Of course the girl never had money, so she never entered the stores, and even when she did she was given extremely odd looks. She would rather just not be noticed. She ducks into an alleyway for a moment to warm herself up, as the cold air started ripping through the town.
"Hey there, little girl, what are you doing here?" a voice drawled from behind.
Layla flinched, her feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She glances behind her and someone had opened the back door to one of the shops and was taking out trash. The person was a fairly large man with a large pot belly, him wearing a simple white t-shirt and black pants with black shoes. He had a large bag of trash in his hand as he gave Layla a quizzical look.
"Look, girly, if you're thinking about setting garbage on fire I'm calling the police and his your parents!" he threatened.
Without a sound Layla ran out of the alleyway, her feeling chilled to the bone as the icy air ripped through her skin. The way the cloak flowed behind her it looked as if she was flying away. The man that had tried to talk to her had dropped the trash silently and ran back inside with a squeal of fear, saying something about a ghost.
Layla continued running, her boots smacking against the wet pavement, the collected water from puddles splashing up on to her legs, soaking her leggings. She enters the woods, feelings the wet branches whip at her face, her feeling the stings as they cut into her fair skin. After running for what seemed like hours, she had found herself toward an extremely large building. The building was surrounded by black metal gates, the entrance with large golden letters of "NW".
Confused, she gets closer to the black gates. Her hands go to reach out to the black iron when a sharp voice snipped at her, "Excuse me, but what is a peasant like you doing on my family's property!?" Layla flinches back when she suddenly saw a golden blonde teenager in front of her, probably a year or two older than her, with a large black umbrella shielding him from the rain. He then gives her a glance over, but just barely. "Really? Come now, are you stupid or something? How dare you come to Northwest Manor and even try to touch our gates!? These gates are worth more than your home!"
"I-I'm sorry…" Layla stammered, her voice hoarse from lack of speaking, "I-I-I'll leave now…"
The boy then looked taken back. "Oh…" he whispers. "Well… um, just make sure it doesn't happen again!" he then huffs as he turns his back away from her and proceeds to walk toward the large manor, the rain dripping from the edges of the umbrella.
Layla didn't know who it was, and frankly she did not care. She ran back into the woods, her breath wheezing from the chilled and damp air. She finally stops in an open grove and collapses, getting thick mud all over her cloak and dark clothes. Rain pelted her face as she looked to the open, nearly black sky. Her heart was slowing to her normal heartrate when she heard a slight buzzing.
She whips her head around, trying to find the source of the noise. The flutter of wings caught her attention, but it wasn't only that… there was a trail of sparkles as well. As her gaze followed the trail she saw small flying object. It landed by Layla and it gave a little wave, it looking like a person that had pointed ears and their skin and clothes was a dark magenta in color.
Layla jumps back, panicking at the sight of the small creature. Was it a fairy or a pixie? Those things are only supposed to exist in fairytales! Vague memories return to her from being an extremely small child and seeing such things… but her family never believed her.
Or did her father know?
The small creature flies over to Layla's nose, it leaning on the nose and staring into the girl's eyes. The small creature gave a quizzical look.
"You seem very nice…" it said in a high sing-song voice. "But you seem sad and closed off… you need to open your heart more."
Before Layla could say anything and question what the small thing had said, it flew off, a trail of sparkling dust trailing behind her. Layla stands up, but heard a small thump of something hitting the wet, earthy floor. A gleam of dark purple catches her eye and she bends down to pick it up. In her hand was a small, shimmering stone that was a deep, regal purple in the shape of an oak leaf.
"Open my heart more…?" Layla questioned aloud. To her that made no sense. Who was she supposed to open up to, her father? No, he'd yell at her that this was nonsense and that he was disturbing him of his real work.
Thunder rolled overhead and lightning flashed, making Layla flinch. She decides to head home, her starting to shiver from the cold. After an hour or two of walking she made her way to the small wooden cabin that was her home, it looking dreary in the grey landscape. She enters the cabin and starts heading to her room, but as she walked in the hallway towards her room she passed a tiny, empty room.
Or it used to be empty.
She stops as she had reached her door and runs back to the tiny room that she had remembered vaguely as her mother's sewing room. Inside the room was a young teenager, just about her age or a little bit older, with a hair color that looked blue-grey and was sticking up in various places. He was unpacking a suitcase that was laying on a small cot of a bed and placing the messily folded clothes by the pillow.
"Who the hell are you!?" Layla screamed loudly, her feeling panicked, the water from the rain dripping off of her and onto the wooden floor. She had tracked mud in the house, and she had planned on cleaning it up before her father had noticed.
The boy looked up, confusion on his face. "Um… Rick…" he muttered. "My question is, who are you?"
"Layla Bartek!" she screeched, her face turning red.
"Oh, you're Dr. Bartek's daughter…" Rick mused, a slight smile on his face. "I suggest you run, because he was looking for you and he seemed pissed."
Dread filled Layla's heart and ice filled her veins. She could feel her body froze and her eyes widen.
"Tic toc, girly," Rick chimed as he continued unpacking.
Before Layla could even try to move towards her room her arm was yanked and there was a loud pop! sound. She screamed in pain as she felt as if she was being dragged, seeing her vision blur with pain. Layla noticed that Rick had poked his head out of the room and had a look of worry on his face.
Layla felt the tile floor underneath her as she dragged through the kitchen. She screamed and yelped to be let go but there was no response. Layla was starting to feel a tingling in her arm, but what was more intense was the fiery pain that engulfed her shoulder. She heard a door open and suddenly she was being dragged down the basement stairs, her body bouncing up and down, bruising the back of her legs and her buttocks.
Finally she was thrown onto the pavement of the basement floor, her vision starting to black in the corners when something pricked her neck. She vaguely saw something yellow and heard a cackle of a laugh. Layla tried to call for her father, but it seemed she couldn't speak, as if she was drugged. The young teenager tried to stand up, but her legs felt like jelly as she tried to move forward. She saw that there was a chair in front of her, a wooden one sitting in a bucket that seemed to be filled with something metallic. In the chair sat a man that looked a lot like the one that had seen her in town.
"Is this the 'ghost' you saw?" Layla heard her father demand angrily, her just barely seeing him gesture towards her.
"Please let me go!" the man pleaded. "If that's your kid I won't say anything, honest!" There was a glint of silver and suddenly a bright scarlet poured to the floor, a hand dropping with fingers twitching. The man screamed in agony and Layla collapsed to the floor, fully feeling the effects of whatever was injected into her. "You're that insane doctor from the Midwest!" the man wailed as tears dripped from his cheeks, mixing with the blood that had splattered.
"I may be that," Dr. Bartek admitted. "But right now I have other experiments to attend to." He had then grabbed a syringe that was filled with bright blue liquid, and he injected it into the man's neck. The man began jittering uncontrollably and shaking as he tried to rip from his restraints. Something grey was crawling underneath the skin of the man's body, it spider-webbing across his features as he began foaming in the mouth. "Oh… it looks as though an ice demon's blood has some negative effects, Cipher…"
"Well, that's why we do this, Barty!" Layla heard a shrill voice reply. "Now you can throw him in the portal to test it out!"
Cipher…? Portal…? Layla thought to herself as she finally blacked out, the last thing she saw the thick, blood slowly making its way towards her.
With a start she bolted up from her bed, her frantically looking around.
She was back in her room, pajamas on her and wrapped in the thick comforter that she had made. Layla gets out of bed, her body feeling sore and she noticed how her legs and shoulder were wrapped in bandages. She goes to open the door but the knob twisted open and her father entered.
"Layla Amelia…" he whispered, his voice filled with deep concern. "Why did you leave the house…?" he asked gently.
"Leave the house…?" Layla mumbled, her brain fuzzy in memory.
"Sweetie… you went for a walk and when I went to go find you I was too late…" her father explained. "A strange man was hurting you… he must've hit your head and that's why you're having a hard time remembering…"
Layla took a step back, a hand to her head. "I… I don't understand…" she choked out.
"Layla… this is why you don't leave the house… you're going to get hurt…"
The girl then remembered seeing another teenager in the house. "Who is that kid that's here!?" she then demands, the memory of him unpacking fluttering in her mind.
Dr. Bartek gives a sigh. "He's the son of an old colleague of mine, his name is Rick Sanchez and he's going to be assisting me for a little bit." He then walks up to Layla and gives her a genuine warm hug. "Don't worry about that right now, Layla Amelia, you're safe. Now come, we have a little lab work to do for you and give you some medicine for your hand."
Layla then follows her father into the living room where she knew she was going to be poked with needles for an hour or two. But she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, something was not what it seemed.
In the shadows there are people who are not what they seem, they'll want to take you down the deathly black water stream, don't take their hand within yours, or forever you'll be put behind the deathly doors.
Those lyrics sang in her mind that her mother once sang to her, and she was starting to think that maybe it wasn't a song at all…
But a warning for things to come.
A/N: Sorry this took a long time, but with everything that has been going on since my mother had passed away I just haven't had tome to write. I'll post when I can though.
Thank you fro reading as always!
~Skye Hendersen~