Scratch Vol.1
Based on the characters created by Len Wein, George Perez, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby
Part.3 - Act 1
Sporting neon green crocs, which squeaked against the shiny, grey linoleum, accompanied by the slightly off-key humming of some improvised melody, Chester rounded the corner of the hallway, artificial lights glowing softly above him as he made his way to the cafeteria. Ahead of him, he spotted a trio of nurses chatting animatedly at the Gynaecology and Obstetrics desk. He smirked and shook his head, knowing full well he was encountering the perfect opportunity for gossip. How could I resist? He thought. Striding up to the desk with a toothy smile, exuding confidence, he approached the desk, giving a little twirl before resting his elbows on the desk.
"Hello, ladies," he crooned, drumming his fingers on his protruding cheekbones. "What, pray-tell, is all the excited chatter about?" He flashed another smile and winked when he noticed the younger nurse sitting at the desk blushed in response, her cheeks now matching her hair.
"Some drama down at Fell's Point," she replied breathlessly with a hint of a southern drawl. The elder nurse standing behind her swatted her with the papers she was holding.
"Don't encourage him, Elsbeth," she chided, folding her arms. "Residents should gossip amongst themselves." Chester stepped back, feigning offence. He grasped at his chest and let his jaw drop.
"Now, Larissa," he said, "I thought we were friends. And you know your chit-chat is much better quality than that of the residents. Bless them." He batted his eyelids and pouted. "Please? Indulge me?" Nurse Larissa rolled her eyes, immune to his charms, and turned back to the filing cabinet behind her, returning the paperwork she was holding to a slot within.
"There was an incident at the Pratt Power Plant," a voice sounded next to him and he turned to face the nurse who had been standing in front of the desk before he arrived. Chester recognised her, having seen her around the campus before, but wasn't acquainted. So, he quickly glanced down at her name tag as subtly as he could, and made of note of it - Annabelle.
"What kind of incident?" He asked.
"One involving 'enhanced or gifted individuals' the cops said," Annabelle leaned on the desk, taking a sip of coffee. "Meaning it some kind of super-powered freak making a lot of mess on the waterfront." She pulled out her phone and unlocked it. A moment of scrolling later, she handed Chester the phone, a live news broadcast displaying a chaotic scene with damaged buildings and excited bystanders. The chyron read "Power Plant Live in disarray - police suspect enhanced human involvement."
"Woah!" Chester exclaimed. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Surprisingly, not many. ICU had a small handful of in-patients, mostly minor stuff."
"Except one!" Elsbeth piped up, wriggling in her chair slightly. Chester raised an eyebrow. "The word is they crossed paths with who or whatever was tearing up the plant and were sent flying from the building out into the bay."
"Holy hell!" Chester leaned in closer towards her. "Any idea who it is?" He whispered almost deviously. The young lady raised a finger to her computer screen and was about to speak when, this time, Larissa whacked Chester on the head with a new set of paperwork.
"Young man, that is none of your business," she scolded him, glaring from behind a pair of half-moon glasses. "Besides, the hospital is being tight-lipped about it. The press were sticking their noses in it earlier and we had to move her to another ward." Chester flinched, raising his arms to cover his head.
"So it's a her? Hmm," Chester smirked, lowering his guard. The older woman glowered at him, unimpressed, and took another swipe, clipping him on the head again. "Oh come now," he whined, rubbing his head exaggeratedly. He stepped around the desk, side-eying the veteran nurse before leaning over the younger nurse's shoulder. "It's not like it's going to be anyone I'd know. What are the chances of that?" He scoffed and set his sights on the monitor. His swagger dissolved and his eyes widened once he spotted the name of the mystery patient glowing on the computer screen.
Nicky sat on the hospital bed listening to the air conditioner buzz ardently as it blew cold air into the small examination room. She rubbed her arms, still trying to warm up, before switching to playing with her necklace. Now wearing a thick, fluffy, white dressing gown with nothing but a shirt and shorts, courtesy of the hospital, on underneath, she wondered how long it'd take to get her clothes back. They had been taken away earlier by nurses who offered to take them to the hospital's laundry for a quick wash and dry. That had been a few hours ago now. It had been a long afternoon of tests, waiting, being moved around, more tests and waiting again. Her hair had gone wild and curly, and stank of the Patapsco River. Desperately, she wanted was to grab her stuff, go home, and forget what had happened.
The sound of skidding shoes snapped her out of her fugue and her eyes darted up towards the door, which had been left slightly ajar, where she caught a glimpse of Chester sliding across the floor outside her room.
"What the fuck is this I'm hearing about you falling out of a window?" Chester huffed as he entered.
"Hello?" Nicky sat back, startled and surprised to see him. Chester just shook his head and threw his hands out, looking for an answer. "Well," she started again, "I didn't fall. If I 'fell' I would have hit the pavement. Apparently, I was 'thrown.'" She flexed her index and middle fingers in the quotation gesture. Chester's jaw dropped. "I mean that's what the people who pulled me from the water said. I honestly can't remember."
"You're sleepwalking again?!"
"More like…blacked out…" Nicky shrugged exaggeratedly. "Again."
"Nicky, you can't be serious!" Chester groaned, his hands cupping his face in astonishment. "What do you mean again? How many times has this happened?"
"A couple," she wrung her hands. "Maybe three or four." Chester rubbed his forehead, creasing his brow, before striding over to the desk and grabbing her paperwork.
"Does your doctor know?" He thumbed through the folder, his eyes darting at the content within. "Wow, they've been thorough," he muttered raising his eyebrows.
"They haven't found anything wrong with me yet," Nicky sighed. "They've done bloods, scans, x-rays. Despite falling from a great height, I'm fine. 'Perfect Knick' actually. His words." She pointed to the doctor's name, "Dr G Turkington", on the file Chester had opened in front of him. He snapped the folder shut in one deft motion and stepped away from her, a concerned look plastered on his face. He closed his eyes solemnly. After taking a deep breath, Chester opened them again and looked directly at Nicky.
"Have you told Tony?" His tone was serious. Nicky stared back at him blankly.
"No," she replied, attempting to match his tone. Chester folded his arms.
"Are you going to?" He asked bitingly.
"No," Nicky snorted.
"The fuck not?" His voice raised a little. Conscious of this, he hastily checked the door to make sure he didn't attract attention. "Look, I don't get why you have to be so standoffish about it. The man cares for you."
"I'm aware," she grasped the bed sheets tightly.
"Then why?" He exclaimed.
"Because!" She pinched her nose. "I'm not someone's ward anymore. I've finally, finally, have a life. My own life. I've got a place. I'm putting myself through school. I work. Me. It's me. Chester! I'm doing it!" She paused, shaking her head. "My whole life, I've been passed around, like, like, some mangy pet that no one ever really wanted to look after. Tony was the first person who really gave a shit. And I appreciate it. But, dude, I'm not that kid anymore." She took a deep breath. "Not that he sees that. I know he cares, but he treats me like some fragile thing… Like he's scared I'm going to fall apart… If he gets wind of this…it'll be like going backwards." She looked at Chester almost pleadingly. He regarded her with an expression she found difficult to read. A moment passed as he digested what she said.
"You still should tell him," he responded, finally, with an air of resoluteness. Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to see a middle-aged man wearing a white coat entering the room.
"Miss Scratch, sorry for making you wait. I have your last set of scans here." Dr Turkington said still looking at the file in his hands. Strands of his mousy brown hair flopped down his forehead and across his square-framed glasses. Smoothing his hair back, he then looked up and noticed Chester. A confused look crept across his face. "Um, are you supposed to be here?" He asked curtly.
"Oh, no," Chester blustered, equipping a charming smirk. "We're just mates. I thought I'd come by and check on her." He quickly glanced at his watch and then back at the doctor. "I'd better get back to my shift anyway." He motioned to leave but not before leaning towards Nicky and tapping her elbow, grabbing her attention. She leered at him. "Wait for me when they discharge you," he told her in a hushed, serious tone. "We'll go home together." And with that, he left the room. The doctor watched Chester leave, the confused look lingering on his face.
"Well, ok," Turkington quipped, watching the young man leave. "He a friend?" He asked, turning his attention towards Nicky.
"He's my housemate," she replied, still frustrated from their conversation. The doctor merely shrugged back. "So," Nicky blustered almost impatiently, "what's going on? What's the verdict?" He shrugged yet again.
"I mean it's weird and makes no sense," he exclaimed thumbing through the paperwork in his hands. "But you're fine. We can't seem to find anything wrong despite what happened." He scratched his head and gave her a wonky smile. "Normally we'd keep you in for observation but we can't keep you here against your will so…" Nicky's ears perked up.
"So I can just leave?" She asked, squirming in her seat a little.
"Well yeah," the doctor chuckled nervously. "Again, I'd advise against it. But you've cleared all our tests. So we have no real reason to keep you." Nicky couldn't help but chuckle a little in relief.
"That's great," she breathed, getting up from the bed. Kneeling at the end of the bed frame, she grabbed her bag, which still felt damp. Her phone was charging on the bedside table, the beaten-up brick thankfully it still working.
"Um," Her doctor shuffled around awkwardly for a second. "You're going to wait for the nurses to give you stuff back at least, right?" He asked. Nicky stopped in her tracks, her eagerness evaporating, and sat back down.
"Yeah…" she mumbled.
'YOU CHECKED OUT!?'
The words flashed on the screen as she glanced down at her phone. A soft breeze passed by sending shivers up her spine. Her clothes, which had been returned to her earlier, still felt slightly damp. Sighing, she rolled her eyes at Chester's message, ignoring the buzz as more messages came through, and shoved the phone back in her pocket as she strolled past her front gate.
Once home, she slammed the front door shut, locking it and trudged upstairs. She didn't even get changed once she was in her room. She simply kicked off her boots, dropped her coat to the floor, and collapsed into bed.
The room wasn't on fire this time. Instead, it was dark. Soot and dust floated wistfully through the air. And, while the fire was absent, the sound remained. Like before, it started as a quiet rumble that grew steadily. Just above the din, was the crying. Muffled at first, it soon became sharper until it was crystal clear. "NICKY!" It screamed. This time she recognised the voice realising it was one she had heard the day before.
Nicky jerked awake, her eyelids still heavy with sleep. She rolled over restlessly, poked her nose out from under her sheets, and peered out into her room. As her eyes adjusted to the low-lit room, she peered around aimlessly until something caught her eye in the corner of the room. Focusing her vision, she saw what appeared to be a figure standing there. The tall, black mass loomed menacingly despite having no defining features. Suddenly comprehending what she was seeing, Nicky panicked and almost fell out of bed. Cowering into the bed's headboard, she screamed a soundless scream while grasping at her covers.
Outside in the hallway, the sound of footsteps stole her attention. After a moment, it became clear Chester was in the bathroom, getting ready for the day. The warm light from the room slides under the door, lighting part of the room. Nicky took a deep breath, trying to get her heart rate down. Looking back at the corner of the room, the figure was gone. She let out a long exhale and slumped into the bed. Half asleep and scared by a trick of the light, Nicky thought, wiping tiny beads of sweat off her face. She waited a minute for her breathing to return to normal before she got up and locked the door, not wanting Chester to barge in like he did the day before. Waiting silently by the door, she listens to him leave the bathroom and trudge downstairs. Some light knocking and moving around could be heard downstairs before the familiar sound of the front door indicated he had left the house. Once Nicky was certain he was gone, she unlocked the door and headed to the shower.
One hot, steamy shower, later, she returned to her room just in time to hear her phone ring. It was Tony, his name flashing on the screen while the phone buzzed aggressively, shaking the bedside table. She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to answer. Nevertheless, she relented, bitting her lip as picked up the phone.
"Hey, kiddo." Tony's voice came through the speaker. "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Nicky let out a sigh of relief, glad he hadn't caught wind of what happened. She was also happy Chester didn't tell him behind her back. "Yeah, everything's fine." She breathed into the phone. "You?"
"Of course," Tony said. "Yeah, you know how it is. Same shit, different day etcetera. Um look, I know it's a Sunday and usually you have them off but would you be able to come give me a hand this evening? I wouldn't normally ask but Milo has gone and twisted his ankle so he's resting at home and I haven't been able to find a temp…"
"Yep." She said without hesitating.
"Really?" Tony replied, his voice bright with surprise.
"Yeah, I'll come down. No problem."
"You are a gem. See you at four!" The other end of the line went dead. As she put down the phone, doubt crept into her mind. Was she just going to ignore what happened and hoped it would go away? Her past guardians weren't aware of anything wrong with her and the hospital didn't find anything either, she thought The whole situation just seemed to get stranger and stranger. She sighed and began changing out of her clothes which still stank from the day before. Anything to get out of the house and get my mind off what happened, I guess, she thought glumly. Fingers crossed for a normal afternoon.
Wiping the sweat off her brow, Nicky alternated between working the grill, stove, and ovens. Occasionally, when the line grew dense, Tony would jump in and help cook and package the food. After every other order, Tony would take a beat to check on Nicky with his usual thumbs up, which Nicky always reciprocated. The pair worked in sync the entire evening thus far, which was typical for them. Having worked in the truck together for so long, they could probably do it with their eyes closed.
The sun had just begun to set and the fairy lights around the truck started to twinkle. Adding the final touches to the latest order, she wiped her hands on her apron and grabbed the receipt which hung above her station. Nicky turned away from the grill to serve an order, leaning over the window sill with the basket in hand.
"Number 66," she called out as she did so.
"Thanks."
Nicky's blood ran cold, the voice seemingly ringing in her ears. Dread enveloped her as her eyes darted in the direction of its speaker. Stepping up to the van was the woman from the Power Plant, a wide grin on her face. Her outfit was different this time, sporting a lavender crew neck jumper and navy jeans in lieu of the strange period dress she had worn before. She reached out to take the basket, her hands now appearing soft and ordinary unlike the day before. Her blue eyes, which were might lighter this time, stared directly into Nicky's. Before she got a handle on the basket, though, Nicky reeled backwards, letting the basket fall onto the ground, its contents spilling everywhere.
"Oh," the woman's eyes widened in surprise, kneeling in a half effort to catch her meal.
"Huh?" Tony's voice interjected now, having just noticed the commotion. As Nicky reeled back, she reached behind her, instinctively trying to brace herself. Her hand, however, connected with the scolding hot burner. Pain shot up her arm and she keeled over.
"SHIT!" She howled. Now squeezing the wrist below her seething hand, she sucked in a breath from between her teeth. Her eyes watered from the pain.
"Fuck! Are you ok?" Tony's tone immediately shifted from angry to concerned. He stepped in closer, trying to get a better look at her injured hand.
"It's fine," Nicky hissed, fighting back tears. "It's nothing. I'll be alright in a second."
"Is everything ok?" A concerned voice called out. Peering over the window sill was the woman. Tony turned around.
"Um, yeah," he responded. "I'm so sorry. We'll replace your order in a sec."
"Oh, no, it's ok," the stranger reassured him, shaking her head. Her long, dark curls bounced around animatedly as she did so. "It was an accident, really. I can wait. No rush." She flashed Tony a brilliant, bright smile and pointed to a nearby table and chair. All the while, her eyes would dart back to look at Nicky. "I'll just go wait over there," she said, her voice almost bubbly and sweet. Nicky watched intently as the woman disappeared from view slightly as she took a seat. Her breathing now steadied Nicky looked at her hand. The side of her left palm looked shiny, angry, and red.
"What the hell happened there?" Tony whispered, having taken a step closer, now looking down at her.
"I just got startled a little and my hand slipped." That's pretty much it, she thought to herself, satisfied with her answer. Taking hold of her shoulders, he tried to get a look at her hand only to have Nicky shake him off. "Please, I'm fine," she sighed trying to move past Tony to towards the first aid station. But he kept blocking her path, trying to grab her hand.
"Could you just let me help you for like a second?" He barked in frustration.
"Tony. I'm not a kid, Ok?" She snapped. "It's just a little burn. You don't need to worry about me all the time." Her hand twitched, sending a new wave of pain up her arm. She winced slightly.
"That's not how it works," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Go, fix yourself up. I'll remake the order." Tony turned back to the till and began apologising to the waiting customers. While he did so, Nicky found herself stuck in place, staring at the woman who, now sitting directly in front of the truck, merely smiled back, saccharinely.
It was nine around the time they closed up shop. After spending half an hour packing up the kitchen, Nicky joined Tony in collecting and folding the chairs, the whole time fighting the exhaustion settling into her shoulders and legs. For the remainder of the shift, Nicky felt shaken. Every few minutes, she found herself compulsively looking behind her to check whether the woman was still nearby. With each order she handed out, she scanned the pier, searching for any sign of her. The first couple of times she did so, she spotted her sitting nearby, happily eating her meal. An hour later, the woman appeared to have left. Nicky's paranoia, on the other hand, had not. Even as she stacked the chairs into the back of the van, she continued to check, almost convinced the woman would suddenly materialise.
"That'll do it," Tony puffed, slamming the van door shut. "Thanks again for tonight."
"It's ok," Nicky muttered, fiddling with the bandage wrapped around her hand.
"Want a lift?" Tony sniffed, clapping his hands clean. Nicky almost said no out of habit. However, this time, the thought of encountering the strange woman again gave her reason to pause. Perhaps it was safer to drive home. "Looks like it's gonna rain," Tony motioned to the sky, which was blanketed with clouds. Nicky nodded in response and made her way to the passenger side of the van, taking one last look around the pier, just in case.
The first five blocks of the trip were quiet as they drove towards Pigtown.
"How's the hand?" Tony broke the silence.
"It's f-"
"It's fine," he cut her off nodding his head exaggeratedly. The car went quiet again as Tony focused on the road ahead. Soft tapping rang out from the van's ceiling and raindrops began pattering on the windscreen. Tony clicked his tongue and flicked on the wipers, which squeaked as they dragged across the screen. "Oh!" Tony exclaimed. "How was Chesapeake's? I totally forgot to ask! Fucking jerk." He knocked himself on the forehead. Nicky froze. She too had forgotten.
"It was ok," she lied, looking out the window.
"Just ok? Seriously?" He asked incredulously.
"Yeah."
"Well, what happened? Did you jump straight into it? Did they jerk you around? Were they cool?"
"Ah, it was…" she trailed off, searching for the right words, "not what I was expecting."
"Uh-huh…" Tony sniffed. "So, you didn't like it?"
I would have if I actually done it, she thought to herself as she shuffled in her seat uncomfortably. Marian's face flashed in her mind, as did the faces of the kitchen staff at Chesapeake's, and her cheeks began to burn with humiliation.
"No, I guess not," she muttered, continuing to stare out the window watching water droplets race down the glass.
"That's ok, you know?"
"What is?"
"Not liking it. Things not meeting your expectations." They came to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the van shuddering a little bit as Tony tapped the brakes. He cursed at the vehicle under his breath, softly. "Chesapeake's doesn't have to be it, right? I know it's one of the best restaurants in the city but there are other places. The opportunities will keep coming. Some better, some worse. But they'll come." The light switched from red to green and Tony changed gears. The van stalled a little as they accelerated across the intersection. "Fuck. I've got to get this thing serviced again," he moaned as the van shuddered down the street, its tyres squeaking a little against the wet asphalt. "Anyway, what was I saying?" He scratched his beard in thought. "Oh yeah. You've got what it takes. That is a given. What I wanna say is, no point losing yourself working somewhere that sucks, no matter the reputation. If it doesn't make you happy, move on. If you're going to give yourself to something, all your time and energy, you might as well love it. You shouldn't have to waste your talent on something that makes you miserable. You know?" He glanced at Nicky, who'd been watching him speak, her brow furrowed in thought.
"Ok," she whispered, still processing what he said.
"Thank you," Tony said, breaking her train of thought. She blinked at him.
"For what?" She asked, cocking her head.
"For telling me," he replied matter of factly, his eyes never leaving the road. "And for listening. But mostly for being honest with me." He glanced at her again, his eyes twinkling with compassion.
A pang of shame hit Nicky straight in the chest and she shrank into her seat. They continued the rest of the way in silence. The rain had let up by the time Tony pulled the van up the front of her house. With the passenger door slamming behind her slightly, Nicky jogged past the gate and up the stairs through the drizzle. Once at the door, she turned to see Tony off. He flashed the van's lights and tooted at the horn to sound his departure and he was gone, disappearing into the night.
Part.3 - Act 2
That morning, Nicky woke from an oddly dreamless sleep. It was refreshing not to have woken with a start or soaking wet sheets. However, as she motioned to get out of bed and start the day, she realised wasn't quite as rested as she initially thought. Her eyes itched with sleep and she felt slightly off-kilter. Once she was up and tried to get dressed uncoordinatedly. After fumbling around, trying to get her sweater on, she sat on the bed momentarily, rubbing her eyes some more, fruitlessly trying to get the sleep out. The thought of taking the day off crossed her mind but dissolved when her phone pinged and saw the text message from the college. Tuition was due this week.
Nicky groaned, her mind drifting to the other bills pinned to her wall. She had missed too much time and would have to make up some hours to cover her losses. Fear and doubt stirred in the back of her mind. What if she blacked out again? She wondered. What if that woman reappears? She shook her head, pushing those thoughts out of her mind. Regardless, she had to push through the day. No nightmares must be a sign of things returning to normal, she rationalised; and hoped.
She unwound the bandage from her injured hand. The burn had just about disappeared, all that remained was a faint red mark where a blister should have been. Nicky shrugged and threw the bandage in the bin.
"What are these?" Louis complained, pointing at the croissants that were cooling on the rack across from Nicky. "These look as bad as that new kid's last batch!" The pastries had in fact been overcooked, some almost burnt at the edges and others whose shapes weren't quite right. Nicky checked her watch. Nothing unusual had happened that morning. No missed time or strange encounters. There was no excuse for the croissants. She'd simply done a bad job. A sour taste started in her mouth making her grimace. Looking up from her watch, she saw Louis glaring at her, his eye twitching slightly as he wound up for another cuss, but he changed tack when he saw her face. "God, you look like crap! Should you even be here today?" He snorted.
"Louis? Louis?" A squeaky voice interrupted. Louis whipped around in the direction of the voice to see an adolescent girl nervously standing in the doorway leading to the service area. "We need help at the till," she gulped wringing her navy apron. Louis rolled his eyes, scoffing at the girl as he stomped past her. Nicky covered her face with her hands, her eyes squeezed tight underneath.
"This is pretty poor form, Nick," a gruff voice spoke in front of her. She removed her hands to see Shannon standing there, his hands on his hips. "Christ, Nicky, you do look like shit," Shannon exclaimed.
"I'll fix it," Nicky growled in frustration.
"Forty croissants ain't an easy fix," he replied bluntly, "or did you mean your face?" Nicky scowled at him and tried to grab the tray only to have him step between her and the bench. "No, seriously," he continued, "you probably should go home."
"Shannon, come on," Nicky huffed, frustratedly. Yes, she knew she didn't look crash hot. She noticed the dark circles starting to form around her eyes, and her paler than normal complexion that morning in the mirror. But she wasn't going to let it stop her from working. "I'll fix it," she argued, trying to get past the large man. "I need the wor-" she had somehow managed to dodge and weave past Shannon when she saw her. There, through the window looking out into the service area, was her mystery woman standing in line at the counter. A thump formed in Nicky's throat. She'd found her again."You know what?" Nicky started with a sputter, still looking out into the dining room, watching the woman talking with the person in front of them. Her mouth moved soundlessly, her cheeks raised in a smile as she did so. Suddenly, her eyes darted in Nicky's direction. Nicky flinched and turned her back on the door. Her erratic movement caused Shannon to jump slightly in surprise. "Fine, I'll go," she said quickly as she rushed past Shannon towards her locker.
She barely charged into her street clothes or said goodbye. She simply switched shoes and put her coat on before gathering her stuff and racing out the backdoor. Shannon just watched, silently; stunned and unable to understand his protege's weird behaviour.
Nicky decided to take a couple of detours while on her way to college. Having left work early, she wasn't sure what else to do. Once she made sure she was a few blocks away from the cafe, and she hadn't been followed, she stepped into a nearby cafe to use the bathroom. There she finished changing out from her work clothes before washing her face. The cold water against her face felt invigorating yet did little to improve the dark rings under her eyes.
Back in the dining area, she headed to the counter to grab a coffee. Finding a seat at the counter, she sat perpendicular to the entrance keeping one eye on the door. Glancing at her phone, she killed time, scrolling through random news and Instagram pages. After an hour had melted away and her coffee was finished, Nicky figured it was time to leave and get to campus. Heading to the nearest bus stop, she remained vigilant making sure to keep her hood up and eyes peeled for any sign of the woman. She had no idea what she could want with her, but the thought of bumping into her again made Nicky's stomach churn.
The bus had made good time as it followed its route towards the college. With the coffee kicking in, Nicky was starting to feel a bit more energised and optimistic about the rest of her day. That was until the bus turned into the main street in front of the college. She reached for the bell, ready to signal for her stop when she gazed out the window. Her fingers were hovering by the button right when she noticed the woman, this time sitting on a park bench near the entrance to the campus. Nicky's stomach flipped. She wrenched her hand away from the bell and quickly turned away from the window, desperately attempting to hide. As the bus got closer to campus, she prayed it wouldn't stop, spying on the other passengers, watching to see if any of them were going to ring the bell. The bus continued to glide past the stop and continued on its way up the street. Tentatively, she decided to sit forward again and cautiously peered out the window. Outside, by the stop, she saw the woman, now standing, her head following the bus as she watched it drive past. Nicky clasped her chest as she sat back in her seat, letting out a big sigh of relief. It was short-lived though, quickly souring into anxiety, as it then occurred to her that the woman had shown up at both of her places of work and now her school. She began to bite her nails as she nervously waited for the next best place to get off.
The nearest stop from her home was four blocks away. Homestretch, Nicky thought to herself, allowing herself a little bit of hope. She cautiously exited the bus, scanning the street one more time after she hit the pavement. Once she determined the coast was clear, she quickly turned on her heel and began walking homeward, striding fast. She had barely traversed a block and a half when her ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps coming from behind her.
"Nicky!" The woman's voice rang out, echoing in the street. Nicky involuntarily froze in place, shock turning her legs into concrete pillars. How? Nicky screamed internally, her knuckles turning white as she tightened her grip on her bag. She twisted her head around just enough to see the dark flowing hair of her stalker come closer. "I'm not here to hurt you," her pursuer pleaded desperately. "I just want to talk."
"Get away from me," Nicky barked, unconvinced by the woman's plea. Regaining control over her legs, she burst out into a run.
"Wait!" She heard the woman cry in frustration as she desperately sprinted down the block. Blood pumped loudly in her ears in tandem with her feet slapping the pavement. Panting loudly, she skidded around the corner, only to almost collide with the woman.
"How the fuck?" Nicky yelped, barely maintaining her balance after coming to an abrupt stop, avoiding the woman by inches.
"I can explain but you gotta let me talk to you," she exclaimed reaching out to grab Nicky's arm. Her fingers connected with her forearm when Nicky gasped in shock and the world went dark.
The next thing she knew, she was down on the pavement, dishevelled. Standing above her was her stalker, her eyes dark and menacing like they had been when they had first met. Her hands, which were raised offensively, glowed with varying purple hues. Nicky's heart pounded violently against her ribcage as she frantically crawled backwards and away from her attacker. Noticing her reaction, her stalker immediately dropped her guard and her demeanour softened completely, her face twisting with regret. The glowing from her hands stopped and she knelt, reaching out towards Nicky.
"No, no, no," she started, almost floundering over her words. "Wait, just wait, I can explain." Still on the ground, Nicky could only swat the woman away wordlessly. Somehow, she found her feet and was running away again, not stopping until she had made it all the way home. With the door locked behind her, she collapsed on the living room floor, exhausted. Sucking in deep breaths, she lay there until she felt strong enough to stand back up again and climb the stairs. With wobbly legs, she made her way upstairs and into her room, where undressed and crawled into bed, raising the covers over her head.
How long she had confined herself to the house, Nicky wasn't sure. Days and nights seemed to have blended into one. Occasionally she'd left the room to get something to eat, but ultimately she had spent much of the time sleeping, seeming unable to overcome an overwhelming fatigue. Or at least, she tried to sleep. Sleep was often interrupted by her recurring nightmare, which had now become like a horrific ageing videotape looping over and over again. The only difference this time was that she would get glimpses of her stalker reaching out towards her from somewhere beyond the flames.
Stirring from a brief interlude of dreamless slumber, Nicky came to her senses to the sound of laughter. She rolled over to face her bedroom door, which was closed. Pricking her ears, she strained to hear two voices speaking through the floor. She reached for her phone and tried to unlock it. The screen remained black and it occurred to her that the battery had gone flat. Laughter floated up the stairs once more and Nicky's curiosity peaked. She wrenched herself out of bed, slipped her Raven's hoodie over her head, and stepped out of her room.
With bare feet, she padded down the stairs gingerly, stopping for a second, suddenly becoming aware of the signs of hunger gnawing in her gut. The two voices below continued to chatter. One she clearly recognised as Chester's. The other was eerily familiar but difficult to place from this distance. Halfway down the stairs, she spotted the source of the chit-chat. Sitting at their dining table, chatting away with Chester, was her mysterious woman. Dressed in a chic, deep violet blazer and satin, white dress shirt, she beamed across the table, the sun lighting her face through the front window while handing Chester what appeared to be a Polaroid photograph. It felt as if time stopped for a moment as Nicky watched the pair giggle and talk happily. All the while, Nicky felt overcome with anger; sick with the realisation that her stalker had found her way into her home.
"What is she doing here?" Nicky snapped, descending the last few steps down the stairwell. Chester and the woman both whipped their heads around at the sound of her voice, surprise in their eyes. Immediately Chester stood up.
"Hang on, Nicky…" Chester started.
"Why is this woman in our house, Chester?" Nicky glared at him, clenching her fists.
"Wait," the woman spoke up.
"Get her out of here," Nicky trembled as she started to raise her voice, gesturing at the door while she glared at Chester.
"Nick, hang on a sec," Chester pleaded.
"GET OUT!" Nicky shouted, glowering at the woman.
"She's your mum!" Chester cried out before biting his lip. His words bounced around the room before it went silent. The woman cocked her head at Chester, her mouth agape in astonishment. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice thick with guilt, looking back sheepishly at her.
"No," Nicky gagged, hardly getting the word out. Her throat grew tight. As the words bounced around in her head. "No," she continued, shaking slightly. It was as if even her body was rejecting what she was hearing. She took a step back towards the stairs, unsure of what to do. "No," she shook her head, "Fuck off." Chester stepped towards her and attempted to direct her to the kitchen but she pulled away continuing to shake her head.
"Just, come in the kitchen and hear me out," he pleaded. He grabbed her arm, his grip tight, and led her to the kitchen. For a second she managed to resist, pulling back from him slightly. But she was too tired and hungry to shake him off properly and so she relented. Chester positioned her by the stove and held her there by her shoulders.
"Nicky," Chester started in his most reassuring voice.
"Chester. What the fuck are you doing letting randoms in our house?" Nicky spat, cutting him off.
"Now just hang on. Let me fucking explain. Potty mouth," he retorted, his level-headed tone now lopsided into a frustrated one. He looked down at her with a frown. "She didn't just show up here unannounced and I let her in. We crossed paths at the hospital. She'd come in looking for the person who fell from the Power Plant a day ago. Explained who she was. My mate at reception let me know and we got acquainted. Then, I invited her here." Nicky shook her head in disbelief. This had to be some kind of joke. "Nicky. I wouldn't have brought her here if she was just some loon. And think about it. You've been having this weird shit happening to you and now she shows up. It can't be a coincidence." Nicky laughed out loud.
"I know you're going through a bit at the moment," The woman started, standing up from her chair."And I know you're probably confused and angry…"
"You attacked me!" Nicky spat, aggressively pointing a finger at her.
"Well, I don't want to sound like I'm gaslighting you, but I don't think you really know exactly what happened…" the stranger grimaced.
"Oh, come on," Nicky exclaimed, wriggling out of Chester's loosened grip and moving around the kitchen bench. "I ended up in the river. I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I need you to stay the fuck away from me."
The woman closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.
"My name is Agatha Harkness. And I am your mother," she said, locking eyes with Nicky; her deep blue eyes intense and unblinking. Nicky shook her head once more, almost laughing. "Your birthday is the 1st of November, 1992. You were born in Salem, Massachusetts, the same place I was. We -"
"You figured out my birthday, so what? You found my old MySpace page or something?" Nicky interrupted her, bristling. Chester grabbed her by the wrist.
"Nicky, she knows more than that. Look," he guided her towards the dining table and pointed to the small stack of Polaroids by Agatha's coffee mug.
Agatha selected a photo and passed it to her. The faded picture showed a young girl, perhaps five years old by Nicky's judgment, standing in front of a large aquarium. Agatha was kneeling beside the girl, looking exactly the same as she did today. The girl sported a raglan shirt with a cartoon octopus on it, the words "National Aquarium" printed above it. She shared many similar characteristics with Nicky; the dark wavy hair and grey-blue eyes matched hers. Both woman and child gave the camera big toothy grins. Nicky felt her stomach clench tightly. There was the faintest hint of familiarity there, but not enough for Nicky to recollect a memory.
"That could be anyone," she said through gritted teeth, handing the photo back.
"There's more than just photos. Your necklace," she pointed at the photo. Nicky followed her finger with her eyes and spied the small gem hanging off the little girls neck. "The malachite charm," she then pointed at Nicky. "I made that for you. Got the stone from Arizona myself. Tell me, what initials are on the casing?"
"Initials?" Nicky scoffed, reaching for her necklace. She touched it through her hoodie, suddenly aware of the cool stone against her skin.
"Yeah," Agatha quipped back. "On the silver casing. Surely you've noticed the engravings on there. Take a look." There's nothing on my necklace, Nicky thought angrily. She begrudgingly pulled out her necklace from under her shirt and rubbed the green gem she'd worn every day for as long as she could remember with her thumb. After giving Agatha a sceptical look, she inspected the silver casing. There, among the other strange symbols were three initials.
"N. E. H." Nicky breathed, her voice wavering a little.
"Nicole Evanorra Harkness," Agatha said, with authority. Bile rose in Nicky's throat. She regarded the casing, looking closely at the engravings. Besides the initials, there were symbols that looked like different variations of stars and moons.
"What are the other symbols?" Chester asked, looking at the charm over Nicky's shoulder.
"Warding and protection charms," Agatha replied, reaching for her drink.
"Some help," Nicky muttered.
"Well," Agatha blurted out, almost spilling her coffee. "It's for something more specific."
"They aren't even my initials. My last name is Scratch," Nicky scoffed, letting the gem bounce against her chest as she released it to cross her arms, irked she hadn't noticed the engraving before. Commotion from the kitchen drew their attention away from the conversation. Sitting on the kitchen bench, next to a recently knocked-over glass, was the black cat. Agatha smiled mischievously.
"That cat's in the house again!" Chester exclaimed, jumping up in surprise. "Where did it come from? Everything is locked!"
"I hardly need a door or window to get in," the cat retorted smugly, a husky low voice hissing past her pearly white fangs. Nicky sat back in her chair, her jaw-dropping. She stared at the cat, aghast at what she heard.
"Nicky? What's wrong?" Chester asked, noticing her reaction.
"You didn't hear that!?" She stammered.
"Hear what?"
"Only you and I can hear Ebony, darling," Agatha laughed.
"Well, I can make myself heard by whomever I see fit," Ebony mewed back haughtily, "however, being your familiar, this is kind of the default."
"I think I'm having a stroke," Nicky groaned, taking her head in her hands while sinking into the empty chair across from Agatha. She propped her elbows on the table, her hands now covering her face.
"Hallucinating maybe but not a stroke," Chester laughed nervously, "that's not a symptom of strokes."
"This is not happening," Nicky's voice came out muffled, her face still obscured. "I am not hearing a cat talk."
"Well, yeah, you are. You're a witch like me, so it just comes naturally," Agatha stated casually. Nicky looked up in disbelief.
"Are you hearing this?" Nicky pointed at Agatha while shooting Chester an incredulous look. Chester simply gave her a shrug in reply, his eyes wide and uncertain. "Not a loon, huh?"
"You're the one who can hear the cat talk?" He snapped back. Nicky felt her cheeks flush red.
"Ugh!" Nicky rubbed her eyes in frustration. Agatha being a witch made sense. It explained how she had gotten around so quickly and the glowing hands. But Nicky? A witch? She couldn't reconcile with that, nor could she believe this woman was her mother. "I'm not the girl in the photos. And I am not a fucking witch. Ok? I've never done magic. There is nothing extraordinary about me. If anything, I'm losing my goddamn mind!" She slammed a fist on the table, knocking over the stack of photos. Agatha pursed her lips.
"Chester," she asked curtly, "how long does it take for a burn to heal?"
"Well that depends but usually a couple of weeks or so. Why?"
"You burnt your hand on the grill the other night," Agatha remarked leaning towards Nicky slightly. "Show him." Nicky scowled crossing her arms tightly, hiding her hands under her armpits.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Nicky said defensively.
"Just show him."
Nicky rolled her eyes and placed her hand face up on the table. Chester leaned over to take a look.
"Um. What burn?" Chester quizzed Agatha.
"Exactly!" She smirked at Nicky.
"Did you burn your hand on the grill, Nicky?" Chester raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well, yeah," she stammered. "But it was nothing." She tucked her hands under the table.
"Nah love, you should at least have a mark," Chester rubbed his neck, nervously. "There was nothing there! Burns don't heal that quickly."
"See, you're not some ordinary person, Nicky," Agatha interjected. "You're a witch. And not just any witch. You're my daughter. Making you one of the last Salemites." Nicky trembled in her seat, lost in anger and confusion.
"If that I the case, then where the fuck have you been this whole time?" She said finally, her voice low and quiet. Her question drew out an awkward silence.
"Uh, I think I have a call," Chester said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and raising it to his ear. "Hello?" He answered the clearly locked phone unconvincingly. "Yeah," he continued in a now hushed tone. "I'll leave you two to this." And he left through the front door, leaving the two women alone. They sat there quietly for a moment, their gaze never wavering from one another.
"I've been looking for you," Agatha started, almost curtly.
"What do you mean you were looking for me?" Nicky scoffed. "Why?"
"We.. we got separated…" Agatha's eyes lowered, taking her gaze away from Nicky.
"How?"
"It's complicated," Agatha sighed. "When you're a witch with a… particular reputation, such as myself, you attract unwanted attention. We were visiting Baltimore when we ran a fowl of some unsavoury types. It.. didn't end well."
"Right," Nicky snorted sarcastically.
"She's right, Nicole," Ebony purred, now sitting on the couch. "We were accosted by members of a rival coven. It was a very messy affair. Both of us could have fared better. And when the dust settled, you were gone."
"Sounds irresponsible," Nicky muttered, spying on the cat from the corner of her eye.
"Hey!" Agatha snapped. "That's uncalled for. You have no idea the lengths we went to protect you!"
"And you did such a great job," the sardonicism in Nicky's voice became more prominent. She leered at the woman across from her. "If you're such a powerful witch, why didn't you just use magic to find me?"
"Of course, I tried!" Agatha cried. "All the years I spent looking for you. I tried every method I could think of or find. Scrying. Seances. I spoke to mediums, sorcerers, doctors, you name it. I door knocked. I even impersonated a cop a few times. Nothing. It was like you were wiped off the face of the Earth. Everyone thought I was crazy. That you were dead, and I was just in denial or gone nuts. But I knew. I knew you were out there somewhere." She paused to take a breath, her lip quivering ever so slightly. "Twenty years, Nicky. I've been looking for you for twenty years. And the whole time, all I could think about was you. I'd wake up, and my first thought was, where were you? Were you alone? Had someone found you? Were you hurt? Were you being looked after? Did they treat you right? Every day and every day, on repeat." She ended the sentence staring at Nicky with an intensity that reminded her of Tony.
"And you just happened to find me now, just out of the blue, sheer stroke of luck. Huh?"
"No," Agatha replied, darkly. "You summoned me here."
"What?!" Nicky exclaimed incredulously. "No, I didn't."
"Well, perhaps not you per se," Agatha continued. "But something connected to you. There have been bursts of magical energy in Baltimore that caught my attention. They were faint at first, which is why I sent Ebony here ahead of me. But then a little over five days ago, I felt it; something dark and of a foregone era of magic. Whatever it was it summoned me here. Not long after, you attacked Ebony and that's how we came to be at the Power Plant."
A little over five days ago, Agatha's statement echoed in Nicky's mind. That sounds about when she had come to at Druid's Hill, she pondered. A knot formed in her stomach.
"I didn't attack your cat," Nicky protested, recollecting her last encounter with the feline.
"Not you, exactly," Ebony chimed in. "Something or someone using you. I watched you change. In fact, I've seen it a couple of times now. It's quite a serious malediction." Hearing the cat's words pulled the knot in her stomach taut, making her nauseous.
"Serious malediction?" Nicky blinked at the cat in disbelief. Her hands now shook uncontrollably and her shoulders ached with tension. She'd reached her limit. "I'd like you to leave now. The both of you," she said flatly.
"Now, wait. Hang on," Agatha blurted out, her eyes wide in surprise.
"No, you hang on." Nicky gripped the chair underneath her, steadying herself. "All these years, I figured you were dead. Now, you're here…" she tittered. "I didn't summon you. I wouldn't have even if I knew how. I want you to leave. I need you to leave."
"No," Agatha started, a mix of anger and disappointment contorting her face. Nicky braced herself, unsure what would happen next. She held onto the chair tightly, fighting the urge to scream.
"Agatha," Ebony interrupted, hopping from the coach onto the floor near her feet. Agatha looked at her familiar, who motioned to leave, and let out a somewhat defeated sigh. Giving her daughter one last look, laced with resentment, she gathered the photos, stood up and followed the cat to the front door. Without a word, she opened the door and strode out, Ebony close behind.
As soon as they were gone, Chester returned. He gave Nicky a questioning look and opened his mouth to speak. But a scathing look from Nicky cut him off, leaving him mute. He stood in the living room, silent as he watched Nicky trudge back up the stairs. He winced when he heard the bedroom door slam, the sound reverberating around the house and rattling the windows.
Agatha stood at the front gate, staring at the house with her arms folded. Even from outside, she heard the door slam and noticed the windows rattle.
"That didn't go how I'd hoped it would," she chewed her lip.
"You should have been more upfront about what happened," Ebony remarked, now sitting on the sidewalk behind her.
"Hey," Agatha snapped. "This isn't as easy as it looks." The cat got up and slinked between her legs.
"Well, you're going to have to figure it out soon," she purred, looking up at Agatha now with her big, green eyes.
"I know," Agatha whispered. She looked down at her familiar and let out a long sigh. Taking one last look at the house, she turned to leave. "Keep a close eye on her, Ebony." The cat stood to attention, her tail whipping back and forth.
"Understood."
Part.3 - Act 3
A day had passed since Agatha had shown up at their house. Since then, Nicky had pilfered Chester's Nyquil, which she found in the kitchen cabinet, and drugged herself to sleep in between sneaky visits to the kitchen for snacks, doing her best to avoid her housemate. That night's sleep had, thankfully, been a dreamless one. However, when she awoke, she found herself standing in the living room. As her senses returned to her, she realised she had put her coat on and her hand was wrapped around the front door's knob.
"Oh?" Chester's voice sang out in surprise from behind her. Nicky let go of the doorknob and slowly turned around. Her housemate stood by the couch in his beige sweatsuit, crumbs sprinkled on his chest. Behind him, the TV blared, displaying a scene from some romantic movie. On the coffee table, she noticed a paper bag from a local fast food joint. She looked out the living room window to see a twilight sky. What time was it? She wondered. Chester patted the crumbs off and reached for the remote to turn the television off. "What are you doing?" He asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she bit her lip.
"Sleepwalking again?" Chester crossed his arms much like a parent would to a misbehaving child.
"No," she scoffed nervously, slipping her hands into her coat pockets. Inside, her hand brushed across something hard. When she clasped a hand around it, her face fell. To her horror, it was her paring knife.
"Then what are you doing?" Chester pressed her, shuffling uncomfortably.
"Nothing, never mind," Nicky stammered, hightailing it towards the stairs, her heart beating loudly against her rib cage while her head spun a little.
"This is not ok, Nicky? You get that, right?" He called out to her as she climbed the stairs urgently. "It's not healthy!" Ignoring him, she pushed against the bedroom door, expecting it to open with ease. Instead, it stuck in place. Confused, Nicky jiggled the doorknob, which was unyielding. "Nick… what's going on?" Chester asked, noticing the commotion having followed her up the stairs.
"It's locked," Nicky breathed, staring at the doorknob dumbfounded.
"What? No. They only lock from the inside," Chester insisted. Nicky stepped away from the door while Chester leaned over to inspect the door. He shook the door by its handle, rattling the wooden panel against its frame. "The fuck? How is it locked?" Letting go of the handle, he gave Nicky a worried look. The door suddenly swung open on its own, revealing the dark room.
"Nah-ah," Chester's face turned pale. "Absolutely not." He wagged his finger and retreated halfway down the stairs. Nicky hesitantly turned on the light in her room at the switch on the wall. The room was clearly empty. "I don't like this, Nick," Chester whined from the stairwell.
"There's nothing in here, Ches," Nicky replied, her voice wavering a bit.
"Nicky! Something isn't right here," he continued, taking a step up closer to her.
"What do you want to do, then?" She looked back at him, bereft. Chester shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe the door was just stuck," she told him in an unconfident tone, "go back and watch your movie."
Chester mumbled something under his breath and returned downstairs, leaving Nicky alone, still standing by the doorway. She warily made her way back into the room. Leaving the door slightly ajar, she sat by her desk, swivelling on the chair, lost in thought. Her hand grazed the pocket where her knife was kept and was hit with a sinking feeling, suddenly reminded of what happened a few nights earlier in the park.
Nicky awoke the next morning to the sound of the front door closing. Chester's got placement today, she thought groggily and she motioned to get up. Immediately she felt nauseous, barely able to roll over without the sensation of vomit rising from her stomach. With sweaty a palm, she reached for the clock only to recoil, bringing the hand to her mouth instead. She wrenched herself out of bed, rushing to the bathroom. Bent over the toilet, she wretched for what felt like hours. After each expulsion, she'd sit with her back against the shower screen, exhausted. Her skin burned and was slick with sweat. Whenever she felt well enough to stand, the nausea returned, and she'd buckle back down grasping the toilet desperately as she vomited once more.
Eventually, when she had nothing left to vomit, she sat on the bathroom floor, trembling as she dried herself with a bath sheet. Willing herself to stand, she managed to prop herself up on the sink and turn on the facet. She lowered her head and drank from the tap, washing the taste of bile and acid from her mouth. A loud knock caused her to jerk her head upwards, water running off her chin a little. She quickly turned the tap off and looked behind her using the vanity mirror.
The hallway was dark and the house was quiet. Breathing heavily, her breath fogged the mirror as she listened and waited. Suddenly, something dashed by the doorway, too quick for Nicky to distinguish. She whipped around to face the door, her eyes darting back and forth, searching for any movement. Cautiously, she edged towards the hallway, grabbing onto the doorframe to brace herself. Slowly leaning forward, she peered into the dimly lit hall, her eyes adjusting to the low light.
"Shh!" A small voice broke the silence, coming from her left. A small yelp escaped Nicky's lips as she jumped backwards slightly, startled. Now tightly clutching the doorframe for support, her eyes darted in the direction of the voice. Standing by the stairs stood a small silhouette. Taking a closer look, Nicky could make out the figure's petite face, obscured by shadow and curly hair. One thin arm clung onto the bannister while the other hand pulled on what appeared to be a light-coloured shirt. "Don't let him close," the stranger whispered in a childlike voice.
A loud thud from her bedroom drew Nicky's attention away from the bizarre intruder and towards the room ahead of her. Glancing back at the stairs, the stranger disappeared, leaving Nicky with a chill running up her spine. More noise emanated from the room, which was difficult to discern. She steeled herself, stepping closer towards the room. With one hand on the door, she gulped and pushed it open. It swung open with a soft squeal, revealing her unmade bed and another stranger sitting atop it. A hand flew up to Nicky's mouth as it fell open and her eyes welled up with tears when she realised what she was looking at.
Sitting on her bed, cradling a slashed wrist while sobbing uncontrollably, was a sixteen-year-old Nicky. Blood dripped from her hand, absorbing into the sheets and turning them black in the half-light.
"I didn't do it," the teen sobbed. Hovering over the teenager's shoulder, was a shadow-like figure, with beady, glowing red eyes. It leaned closely towards the teenager, appearing to smoulder, soft wisps of smoke rising off of its body. Nicky whimpered at the sight, unable to speak. The teen looked up, the sobbing stopping abruptly.
"GET OUT!" Young Nicky screamed, black fingers curling around her shoulder. As it did so, her eyes went dark. Without thinking, Nicky reached forward, her hand wrapping around the doorknob, and slammed it shut. Shaking, she took a step backwards, her mind reeling from what she had seen. Loud static suddenly started emanating from downstairs, making Nicky flinch in fright. Light from the TV bounced off the walls, flickering wildly, turning the scene black, grey, and blue. In spite of her shot nerves, Nicky found herself creeping down the stairs and into the living room.
Sitting on the couch was the small stranger from earlier. Sensing Nicky's presence, they got up and faced her. Now, under the TV's glow, Nicky could get a better look at them. As she did so, she felt the blood drain from her face. They couldn't have been any older than five or six, a small girl with a mop of curly dark hair and a button nose. Skinny arms poked out of a raglan shirt which sported an octopus on the front.
"Is mom coming back?" She asked in a squeaky little voice, looking up at Nicky. The room went dark for a second as the TV flickered on and off, and once again, the girl disappeared.
"The fuck is going on?" Nicky cried softly, running her fingers through her hair before grasping it tightly. The TV flickered once more, and the static began to clear. As if drawn to it, Nicky moved closer to the television, watching it from behind the couch. Through the static, she began to make out the faint outline of flames dancing across the screen. Two faces seemed to phase in and out through the noise and the flames. The first face, Nicky realised, looked like Agatha's. The second she couldn't recognise. As far as she could tell, it was a man. Gaunt with sunken eyes, other features were harder to distinguish. However, what she could see were what appeared to be thorn-like protrusions coming out from his forehead. Tears began rolling down Nicky's cheeks and she closed her eyes, willing this waking nightmare to end.
"Harkness…" Nicky's eyes wrenched open when the whisper reached her ears. Trembling from head to toe, she slowly turned her head in the direction of the whisper. Hunched at the top of the stairs, was the red-eyed shadow. It leaned forward, taking a beleaguered step down the stairwell, smoke smouldering off its shoulders and limbs.
Feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her, Nicky's legs gave out, and she fell backwards choking on a scream. Panic racked her body as she crawled backwards feebly, while she watched the figure descend the stairs. Step by step, the figure grew larger and less opaque, as if assuming form.
Mustering whatever energy and courage she had left, Nicky scrambled to her feet and ran to the front door, wrenching it open and stumbling outside. Tripping on the welcome mat, she went tumbling down the porch stairs, slamming into something hard. A pair of hands grabbed onto her arms, keeping her from falling to the ground. Initially, she attempted to pull herself away from their grasp, but as her gaze came upon Chester's face, she went still.
"Nick! What the hell is going on!?" His eyes were wide with alarm. Nicky peered behind her to see the stairwell empty. In a second of reprieve, she felt her knees give out a little. Unable to hold her up, Chester awkwardly moved her to the porch step, where she sat down. "Nicky, seriously…" He knelt to her eye level. Nicky blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"I…Hang on," she trembled looking up at Chester. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'?" He quipped, raising an eyebrow. "I live here."
"No," Nicky shook her head. "You only left an hour or two ago…" she trailed off and looked out past Chester, noticing the street lights shining onto slick wet pavement. The sky was dark and cloudy.
"Nick. I finished placement. It's 9:30 in the evening," Chester grimaced. Numbness crept up Nicky's limbs and across her chest. Letting her head fall into her hands, she pressed her palms into her eyes, fighting back tears.
"Chester," she breathed, feeling her fingers shake against her forehead. "I - I think I need help." Chester patted her shoulder reassuringly, as he considered their options. Movement then caught his eye, and he looked up to see Ebony striding across the porch. The black cat stopped in the doorway, her tail sticking up slightly. Her green eyes narrowed as they glared at Chester making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He gave the cat a concerned look only to watch it run away, disappearing behind the fence. Suddenly, his pocket vibrated, compelling him to pull out his phone. Sliding the screen open, he saw a text composed of two words and a letter: Stay Put - A.