“How are YOU? Are you okay? You look like shit,” Molly responded as Abigail picked idly at her knees. She glanced up at her friend and then gave her a small grin, straightened up and rubbed her hands on her thighs.

“Nothing I can’t deal with. The only thing better than my looks is my pain tolerance,” Abigail quipped slyly as she offered her friend a disarming smile. “ ‘sides, I get the feeling we have bigger things to worry about than my imminent brush-in with tetanus. Starting with our good friend and local screw-up, Scotty.” Abigail looked down at the whimpering boy impassively, seeming much less worried than Molly was about the whole ordeal. “Eeeh, lookit him. He looks fine.” Abigail shrugged her shoulders. “His parents are gonna be around soon though and I don’t want to be the one explaining it to ‘em.” Whatever ‘it’ was, that is; Abigail wasn’t sure she could explain it herself.

“I’m scared Abigail.”

Abigail looked back at Molly and hesitated for a brief moment. Personally, Abigail didn’t look scared in the slightest; she had a grim look on her face though, her ‘thinking’ face...a dark expression that made her look so much older than she actually was. Just when it could’ve started to become unnerving, Abigail quickly turned away and stared at the window she was unceremoniously tossed out of. “Scared? No, no, don’t be scared. Definitely don’t be scared of the girl,” Abigail said reassuringly. When she looked around again she had her usual smile on her face. “She didn’t do much to me, did she? She didn’t kill anyone. Didn’t torture anyone.” Abigail looked away again. “You know who does torture and kill people, though? The police. Well, not our police. But the CIA, the FBI...if they think you know something, they’d do some pretty fucked up stuff until you decide to share it with them.” Abigail walked over to Molly now. Her gaze was cold, her voice was quiet but it held a new sort of menace.

“Because, y’know, everyone’s listening these days right? What with TV and Radio everywhere, Russia getting all up in America’s business...In the big cities, they think there’s spies everywhere. Now, if I was a fugitive, I wouldn’t bum around in somewhere like New York. I’d run off to a small-town and...and hide in the woods.” She took a shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. “Don’t be scared of the kid, Molly. I could’ve kicked her in the teeth and she would’ve been out like a light. I’m scared of whatever’s following her though - why else would she look so fucked up?” Abigail must’ve seen something in Molly’s face because she gently laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head a little. Her usual smile seemed hollow.

“Good thing nothing happened here then, huh? Scotty’s delirious. You and me, we pulled a brilliant prank on him but it went wrong last minute. We’re both awfully sorry.” Abigail looked down at Scotty - he wasn’t saying much now. All of his friends had rushed off to either find his parents or avoid getting caught by their own, leaving only Molly and Abigail in the kitchen. “Scared those kids so hard they were seein’ ghosts n’ shit. Of course, Scotty was only seeing red...and he got so pissed he threw me out of the window. Remember that.” It didn’t sound like a question - it sounded like an order. Abigail looked over at Molly pleadingly. “Because that’s really, really what happened from now on out. I’d rather get yelled at by my uncle than a one-way trip to Guantanamo. You an’ me, we’re never going to talk about this again. Not even when we think we’re alone. NEVER again. You say anything about, about this shit, and I sweartofugginGOD Molly I will NOT defend you if some guys in kevlar come banging on your door. Understand?”

Abigail looked absolutely drained. She had gone pale and it made her look almost as filthy as the wildchild from the forest. “...Oh, and can you take me home?” she added meekly, rubbing her nose.

The siblings watched Alisson leave with very different expressions. (Apathy and Confusion. Who do you think?) But, John managed to laugh a little, breaking the silence that had developed, Lilith's eyes flickering to him.

“Don't think she was that pleased with my response, eh?”

Lilith raised an eyebrow, head tilting a little before taking another sip of her water as she peered out the windows. John gave a sigh at her silent answer, taking a sip of his coffee as he briefly looked over to the side as the possible alien. (He was still banking on that idea... well... that or a secret agent, but he was rooting on alien.)

John stilled a little, eyes on the... whatever he is. (Still going with alien.) Even through the asshole shades he was wearing, John could feel his eyes on him. Not taking his eyes away from the staring contest he was having, he knocked lightly on the table to get Lilith's attention.

Lilith slowly dragged her eyes over to him, eyebrow arched in silent question. However, her expression showed light confusion as he didn't look at her or say what he wanted. (He was the vocal one of them both.) Following his gaze, she saw that it was leveled on the 'alien'... the 'alien' that was staring at her older brother.

Her head tilted fully to the left, narrowing slightly. Her thoughts immediately went to whether or not he'd heard the conversation. To be fair, her brother wasn't the quietest of people but he was quieter than normal on this day so... did he still manage to overhear.

“Creepy.” John finally decided, pointedly looking away from the possible alien to take a longer glug of his coffee, instead focusing on Lilith who nodded seriously.

“Very creepy.”

Anyone paying attention to the odd man in black sipping away at his coffee could clearly see that even after John broke eye contact with him he seemed to have no intention of returning the favor. In fact he stared well up to the point he had finished his whole cup of coffee, paid, and walked his way out the door. Suddenly it was just another normal night at Kate's.

After a few more minutes of normalcy Allison could be seen making a beeline for Lillith and John, her hands filled with the hot plates that held their prospective homecooked dinners. Even from across the room the smell was divine despite it being simple diner food.

Reaching their table in no time and completely unaware of the strangeness that had just occurred Allison went about placing the plates in front of both John and Lillith, her crisp smile dissapearing as she spoke “Cheese fries for the lady and...” She trailed off, her attention having suddenly been caught by something on the otherside of the large store windows. Placing Johns food down rather unceremoniously she squinted while leaning over the table in what could be assumed was an attempt to get a better view at...whatever it was she was staring at. Not keeping John and Lillith in suspense for long she quickly spoke up, her usual tone now rather inquisitive before turning frantic “Isn't...Isn't that your car out there John? John, that salt guy is doin somethin to your car!”

“He's still staring.” Lilith muttered to John, having glanced over at the possible alien only to see him still sipping his salt-infested coffee as he stared at her older brother. A part of her wanted to walk over there and give him a piece of her mind. And she was about to when John's hand went over hers, the siblings meeting eyes. John seemed a bit disgruntled but he seemed to be doing his best to ignore the alien.

“Fuck it, let 'em stare. Hopefully he'll hop back onto his spaceship and leave.” The last part was muttered but Lilith heard it well enough, crossing her legs and taking another sip of her water as she stared at John intently, him doing his best to ignore her silent questions.

Besides, maybe it was a good thing Lilith didn't leave to go confront him as, having finished his 'coffee', he'd paid and left.

“See?” John said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the door. “He's gone and we can just move on with our day, huh?”

Lilith narrowed her eyes a little at him.

“Okay, the staring was weird and creepy but he's gone! Let's just take the win and run with it, yeah?”

Lilith hummed in response, eyes flickering back to the seat where the 'alien' had been sitting. Her stomach felt a bit weird and she really didn't like the way he was staring at her brother.

Both siblings were lost in their own thoughts, not paying much attention to their surroundings. John was thinking about his dreams, still trying to remember what it even was that he saw in them. Lilith was thinking about the stranger and the uncomfortable feeling she got. Sure, it could be her sibling senses trembling but something still felt off. But, the siblings were brought from their separate musings by Allison appearing with their food.

The siblings both stared at the food hungrily, John muttering his thanks for the both of them as the plates were placed down, somewhat roughly on John's part though he barely noticed. Before they could even attempt to touch the plates to eat, Allison's behavior was drawing their attention to her.

But, as soon as John's car was mentioned, he straightened up, a genuinely panicked expression on his face. “Baby?” He asked Allison, clearly talking about his car that he'd affectionately named 'Baby' over the years. Lilith's eyes were a bit wider as she stared at her brother and he looked at her. And as soon as the 'salt guy' was mentioned, both siblings were out of their seats, quickly running outside. Well, John was jogging/running while Lilith was quickly walking just a few steps behind.

Outside, however, the siblings were greeted by... nothing. John's car, Baby, was still there and the 'Salt Guy' was nowhere to be found. Regardless, the siblings moved over to the car carefully, a bit anxious due to the fact that 'Salt Guy' had been apparently messing with John's car. Trading glances, John went to go check under the hood while Lilith kneeled beside the car to check under it for anything that shouldn't be there.

However, when John got to the front of his Baby, he saw something underneath the windshield wiper. Head tilting a little, a clear copy of his sister, he reached over and snatched the napkin, staring at it in puzzlement. But, his face grew ashen as he stared at it, barely blinking. Lilith, having not found anything, had stood up and wandered over to John, worried by his expression. But, following his gaze, even she was surprised by what was on it. A circular coffee stain that tainted and darkened the napkin but messily scrawled inside of the dried stains were a bunch of eyes and mouths. Lilith's head tilted and she turned her gaze to her shocked brother.

“Your dream...?”

John took in a somewhat shaky breath before nodding, speechless. Lilith pushed her brother lightly so that he was leaning against the hood of his car. She held up her hands, clearly telling him to 'stay'. She then quickly jogged inside of the diner to tell Allison that they would take their food to go whilst John stared at the napkin, unable to take his eyes off of it.

“Oh, Sure thing hon.” Allison answered, her gaze going past Lillith and out the door to where John was. A worried look could be seen seeping through her work smile as she went about boxing and bagging the food impressively fast. In what felt like the blink of an eye Allison was handing off the now full large grocery sized paper bag she had folded and stapled shut. Biting her bottom lip she spoke rather quietly so only Lillith could hear. “You take care now, ok? You know where to find me if you need anything.” The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice made it clear this was coming from Allison's rather famous motherly nature.

–

Scotty, having never so much as taken a punch in his life, couldn't help but still let out the occasional whimper from the new sensations of real pain. Luckily for Scotty he had real friends-friends like Molly and Abigail. Like usual Scotty took the rather rough verbal treatment from the two girls as more of a pep talk-he also stupidly thought the cigarette Molly had given him was a reward and not just an attempt to shut him up. The act of puffing on some nicotine was already making him feel better though; he found himself particularly glad Molly had ripped his mask off and he no longer was choking on the weird smell of what was virtually a plastic bag made in some third world country. Suddenly he found himself thinking he could take just a quick nap and then he'd be good as new-that was until Molly actually asked him to stay awake and he begrudgingly accepted without his usual bickering.

Ears ringing in a way that made him feel as though he were half in and out of reality Scotty listened dazed to Abigails urgent tone as she spoke directly to Molly. Hearing only bits and pieces he quickly formed a false reality to match what he thought he heard. Interrupting before Molly could answer Scotty was in the middle of dragging himself up the wall, shooing away any help with his good hand, clearly having been impressed with what he now believed had been Molly and Abigails own set of pranks. “Woah, Frighten the Frightener-I dig it guys, totally. Zen way to end my year at school” He went to make his signature triangle hippy hand sign for “zen” but cried out in pain at what he fast realized was a totally stupid move to make with a shattered bone. Quickly forcing his cry of agony silent he tried to recover some of his lost dignity by pulling the car keys out of his pocket; with a jingle of keys at Abigail he exclaimed “I can take you home!” while wincing through the pain.

Apparently Scotty being Scotty combined with head trauma and a wickedly broken arm made his usual “Im only half listening” problem rather worse; luckily for the girls though this meant Scotty wouldn't need much convincing when it came to Abigails newly fabricated story.

After about five minutes of Scotty arguing how he could totally drive just as good with just one arm Abigail and Molly finally conceded and allowed him to drive the three of them home. Two run over mailboxes later and Molly found herself behind the wheel of Scotty's rusted old Ford, Scotty laughing while smoking what looked like a hand rolled cigarette he swore up and down was “herbal medicine.” He was in the midst of thoroughly praising both girls for their epic Fright Night that he kept claiming was the best in history. Taking a deep drag of medicine he held it in and spoke, his voice sounding slightly more high pitched in the process. “I thought my fish string on the door was good, you somehow rigging me up with stage wires without me knowin was just genius! To bad the whole arm thing happened but...totally worth it.” He let out a cough. “Oh, and you guys know I wasn't like, really crying right? Just all that dust and my alergies....You know?”

When Scotty regained enough sense to jingle his keys at Abigail and offer, through concussion and a few years, to take Abigail home...he wasn't met with glares and swearing; Abigail shot him a couple of finger guns and went “nice.” She shot Molly a meaningful glance and, after confirming that those sonnofabitch 'friends’ of Scotty weren't actually man enough to tell his mom, the three of them piled into his car and off he went. Abigail found the first mailbox murder to be funny, but when she sarcastically dared him to hit another and felt the thud, her temper flared up a little and it was Molly behind the wheel. Abigail sat in the back - she liked sitting in the backs of cars for some reason - whilst Scotty got high in the passenger seat and slurred out praises to both of the girls. Abigail was giving him her usual enthusiasm, to the point where even Molly doubted that Abigail ever said anything about spies and torture before. Nevertheless, there was this unique...oddness about Abigail's demeanor, a gut that she wasn't as happy as she made herself out to be. “Of course dude, a broken arm? No pain at all for our Scott. Like... like meeting an old friend, huh. Familiar sort of pain.” She was bigging him up the whole way. “And I'm sorry about the arm thing, really - it's just, like, it was my first fright night too so I showed up early and rigged the place. Used to be a techie in my drama club, back in the city.” Molly could smell the bullshit there. Abigail had said once that there weren't any things like clubs where she came from (“at least, not the kind you'd want to join”) and Abigail was dragging her heels in ever since she heard fright night was a thing.

They got to Abi's house first - unsurprising, given that her uncle could only just about afford a shitty bungalow on outskirts of the suburbs, closer to the woods than most of civilization and making the walk to school just that little bit more difficult than it had to be. She popped the door open then leant on drivers side window, thanking Scotty for the ride and peering down at Molly with an indiscernible expression. “Get home safe, okay? Both of you,” was all she said before twisting around and jogging into the house. Molly could hear her lock the door after her. It was just another one of her oddities - nobody needed to lock anything in Brimstone - but after what happened, and given her proximity to the woods...it didn't seem that weird anymore.

Within the hour Abigail found herself leaning against the sink, glaring at her misty reflection in mirror, dripping wet and stark naked from the well deserved bath she took. “Water you doing, Abi…” she mused, smirking at her own stupid pun. More moments passed as she tended to her 'wounds’, the stink of iodine and alcohol rub mixing with bubble bath and the hot smell of steam that permeated the bathroom. She ran out of plasters and pulled on her PJ's, leaving the empty box quite tellingly on the countertop near the front door. She made herself dinner - a breaded chicken steak, beans and potato wedges - and put it in the microwave whilst stuffing her fist into the cereal box and shovelling handfuls into her mouth instead. The cooked meal was another little sign for her uncle when he got in. Abigail wanted to scroll through the TV channels but knew it wouldn't do her any good.

On nights like this, distractions never cut it. She put the cereal box away and took a pill bottle out of the medicine cabinet, popping two into her mouth and then pointedly placing the bottle on the countertop next to the plasters. They were strong enough, but not what Abigail was used to; she could feel them kicking in no more than twenty minutes later as her mouth dried up and her limbs felt leaden. Dragging herself to bed, she had a couple hours of dreamless sleep, followed by a series of naps that plagued her with bright and lurid nightmares, of filthy streets and filthy girls, and the horrible tug on her navel jolted her awake every single time.

If looks could kill Molly would be six feet under.

That smile that Abigail gave Molly and told her not to be afraid, and the dangers they would face if the incident was talked about was enough to make Molly sick to her stomach. The real problem was that she wasn't wrong, all the things coming from her menacing lips in a hushed whisper were true. Molly nodded unsure what else there could be talked about the situation anyways. It was like a bad drug trip, but none of the fun parts.

"Understand?"

Molly nodded her doe eyes wide with expression.

“...Oh, and can you take me home?”

Molly frowned for a moment. She wanted badly to slap Abigail across her face. Not in a cruel way but just a release of anger and emotion. How could she look at everything they had been in those just few minutes and smile and crack jokes as if nothing had happen. She ran her hand and took a grip of her own hair between her fingers. Scotty in the meantime had came to and was clueless as into what happened. Molly took this moment to show her loyalty to Abigail. "Yeah man, we got you good. You didn't even see that shit coming did you?" she looked to Abigail for approval before Scotty offered the two a ride home. This was probably for the best considering Molly knew she wouldn't be able to keep her lips sealed if the two had to have walked that long walk home together.

Sitting in the car Scotty was back to his old self and Molly could not believe that the idiot was unable to comprehend that the two girls could not possibly have been behind this. Mailboxes were driven over without much more than laughs. Molly couldn't help but join in either, chuckling at how pissed the neighbors would be when they saw the destruction of their yard. It wasn't until Abigail lost her temper over a one mailbox too many that they had to pull over and Molly had taken the front seat. She technically didn't have her licenses, let alone her own car but she had taken a few joy rides around town with her friends in the night and knew the basics.

Scotty got high next to her, his words slightly slurring and changing pitch as he wondered how the girls could have possibly done such a feat. She took a hit straight to the head with the rolled joint, but couldn't enjoy it like usual. Molly glanced at Abigail in the back seat as she sold the show. Gripping the wheel she listened to her friend orchestrate the entire conversation as Scotty threw out praises between the two girls like they had really made it into the big leagues. The lies caused Molly to grow in frustration. It was one thing to lie to Scotty but she hoped that Abigail was not lying to Molly's face either.

Reaching the familiar home of Abigail, Molly pulled in slowly and put the car in park. Molly rolled down the window as Abigail got out and approached. Leaning in Abigail thanked Scotty for the ride and the two girls exchanged looks. Molly wanted to get out of the car and make sure Abigail was okay, but she bid them farewell wishing them safety and before Molly could get any words out, Abigail was in the house with the loud lock of the door quickly behind her. This sound resonated in the back of Molly's head.

"Alright Scotty". Molly said as she parked the car in the driveway of his home and got out of the car and opened his passenger door and helped him get out. He thanked her a few times and continued to talk about how great Abigail and her's trick was, and how Molly obviously wasn't as dumb as she looked. "Thanks asshole." Molly mentioned as she fumbled through his car keys to open his front door. He walked through and she left the keys on a small end table in the living room. Scotty's parent's were probably out getting dinner so Molly was thankful she wouldn't have to explain to his parents why his arm was fucked beyond belief. He would have to do that himself. "Give my house a call if you need anything, okay?" Molly called to him as she watched him lay down on the couch and what she assumed fell asleep or passed out.

Molly turned and made her own way home. Molly and her family lived very close to the school, so she didn't have too far to walk. When she arrived her grandmother was in the kitchen cooking a dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Molly proceeded to walk right through the living room and into the bathroom to vomit profusely.

She cried, and then threw up again before a knock could be heard on the door.

"Molly." the sound of Molly's grandmother- Linda could be heard. "You're not doing that throwing up thing the girls at school are doing, are ya? Your mom told me about all the vomit she has to clean up at school because of those girls trying to be skinny. You're already a fine looking girl Mol' you could wear a little less makeup and some nicer clothes sometime but you are a goo-" Molly opened the door as she was face to face with her grandma. Her mascara and eyeshadow had been rubbed into dark blue and black tones around her eyes as she shook her head "No grandma. I had some bad food at the cafe. That's all." Linda gave a look of understanding, "Oh honey that's why you have to eat at home more often." It was so matter of fact. Grandma's always had the answer for everything even though she had no fucking clue what was going on.

Molly made her way downstairs as she stripped into her bra and underwear, throwing her clothes into the corner and replacing it with an oversized tee shirt. She took a wet wipe to her face and wiped away the sins of the day, and put her hair up. "Fuck me.." she groaned to herself, looking to the other house phone that sat on end table that was next to the couch downstairs. She couldn't help herself as she called Abigail's house number, memorized by heart by the second week after Abigail had moved to town.

No answer.

Molly figured that the girl didn't want to talk to her at this moment. It had been a long day for all of them. Standing up from the couch she walked over to the stolen lighter still in the back pocket of her jeans she had disposed of in her room and lit up her pipe, and turned on the radio to drown herself out of her own thoughts. After smoking through a bit she lit an incense to mask the blatant smell, as she curled up on the couch and pulled the blankets around her petite body.

Having clearly seen better days the large sprawling Victorian esque mansion named rather uncreatively The Brimstone Hotel sat at the end of the road; what little starlight there was lit up the ever growing night just enough to make visible the sickly yellow paint that had begun peeling and bubbling from years of neglect. As if defying nature itself though yearly tourists still occasionally came to stay at what looked like a scene from a one of the popular horror movies of the day-In a lot of ways the hotel itself looked almost scarier than the infamous abandoned house that lay directly on the opposite side of town. Logically the only real reason anyone would still come here was for the once world famous healing springs located in the much more well maintained spa buildings that were completely detached from the hotel.

Dark wood floors creaked in agony as Brooks made his way inside the virtually empty lobby. An elaborate stone fireplace, currently unlit, was the centerpiece of the large check in area. Sporadically strewn about in a pattern that clearly allowed medium sized groups to sit separately was a random assortment of chairs, couches, and benches-all of which was in a style that very much looked as old as the building itself.

The only living soul visible was a single man whom was currently dusting the large oak check in counter with an elaborate looking feather duster. Based on the layer of dust that seemed to cake almost everything he looked like he was fighting a losing battle. He himself looked like quite the reflection of the building he apparently cared for; his ugly brown suit and poor attempt at a comb over combined with his sickeningly loose looking skin giving him a rather ghoulish appearance.

The tiny bell above the front door had caught his attention when Brooks walked in; immediately he hid the duster behind his back as if he'd been caught in the act of something sinister. “Good evening officer.” His monotone voice drug out painfully slow. “Is there something I can help you with? A Spa pass perhaps? Maybe a room? Or do you desire to dine in the on site restaurant?” He went on to blandly and boringly describe the many Hotel and Spa amenity's for sale.

"Brooks remained stunned in a brief moment of confusing, glancing around as the man continued listing the several attractions the hotel had to offer. Before the man could get any further however, Brooks interjected: “No- none of the above. I got a call from the hotel regarding a missing person. Was that you who called?” he glanced around the room once more, approaching the man as he sought a reply to the question."

At a steady but methodical pace the ugly suited stranger made his way around to the other side of the large check in desk seated directly in front of the grande flight of stairs that lead up. With a momentary clang he stowed his dusting wand in an unseen metal bin beneath the desk before giving Brooks his full attention.

Barely lifting an eyebrow his saggy face tried to form an expression of surprise at Brooks news but seemed utterly unable to do so. “Oh my.” He finally spoke in a manner that sounded more like he was stating a fact than displaying any form of emotion. “I assure you I am the only staff member operating the phones here tonight, and I have spent the better part of the evening quietly cleaning. No missing anything as far as I know of.” He folded his hands atop the ledger book on the table in an attempt to show he wasn't doing anything with them. “How rude of me though, as we've never had the pleasure of being properly introduced: naturally I know you by reputation though Mr. Brooks. I on the other hand am called Mr. Krandall.”

With scowl creeping up on his face, Brooks glanced in the direction of the check-in desk, something felt off. The callers voice was monotone, precise, and adamant in Brooks’ arrival. All traits that were uncharacteristic with prank callers, from his experience at least. Brooks turned to look back at the gangly man who was now before him, rattling off an introduction. “A pleasure.” He tipped his hat in greeting before trying to shift the conversation on, “Listen even if it was a miss call or prank, i'm inclined to makes sure there's nothing going on. If you could help me out that'd be great.” He watched the man's reaction carefully, making it blatant that Brooks wasn't budging before he was satisfied everything being normal.

Brooks started rattling off a series of questions.
“Who else works here?”
“How many guests are there?”
“Anyone besides you that could have accessed the phones while you were distracted?”

Just as quickly as Brooks asked his questions Mr. Krandall answered in a similar rapid fire manner. He answered so quickly it was almost as if he had rehearsed the conversation-So far it was the fastest thing Brooks had seen the man do.

“Several people from town are in our employ-a few staff members are on call at the moment but I am the only actual member of the night shift. It does get rather lonesome.”

“How many guests? Hmm...let me check the ledger here...It appears as though only three rooms are currently occupied.”

“Hypothetically I do suppose a guest or someone off the streets could have come in without my awareness and used the phone but...but I just can't imagine that being the case. Guest phones cannot dial out and, as I stated earlier, I've not explicitly seen or heard anyone using my phone. I assure you officer, it must have just been some lowly degenerate wasting your valuable time.” Upon answering the final question the wrinkled sagging folds that made up Mr. Krandalls face contorted into a yellowed toothy smile that was intended to be reassuring but only had the opposite effect.

"Brooks nodded along to each answer, brows still furrowed with uncertainty. “Alright, Mr. Krandall.” he shot another glance behind the checkin desk before stating “I’ll just have a quick talk with each guest, just to reassure myself. You don’t have to follow me on. This is most likely just a false alarm.” he made sure to give the man a sense of reassurance. He didn’t have any reasons to assume the worst, but something still felt off. He felt like Mr. Krandall was rushing him, trying to hide something. Then again, it could just be Brooks’ bored mind wishing that were true. “Can I have the room numbers please?” he asked adamantly, expecting Krandall to comply and be too boneless to reject him."

Eyes widening in surprise at Brook's request Krandall took a step back and up onto the staircase, his flabby arms raising up in a horizontal attempt to cover the most space-sadly the staircase itself was far to large for this to be any sort of effective countermeasure. "I must plead with you to do otherwise, dear officer! Perhaps you could simply return in the morning? It is awfully late to be knocking on doors, especially considering the fragile health of some of our patrons." Lowering his voice a few levels and glancing around the clearly empty area somewhat nervously Mr. Krandall went on to add so that only Brooks could hear. "We really can't afford any more loss of business, Mr. Brooks." The look on his face made it appear as though uttering those words had been akin to Mr. Krandall ripping his own heart out.

"Brooks paused, his suspicions rising at the sudden tonal shift of Krandall. “Mr. Krandall, I insist you comply. I’ll make sure to be cautious regarding my approach, i’m aware of the time.” he said, starting to make his way and pushing past Krandall up the stairs, unless stopped."

"Very well..." Mr. Krandall trailed off in defeat as he watched Brooks ascend the stairs. "Please do be careful though."

–

Usually Max would have thought it extremely odd that James' had the audacity to ignore his parents, only this night he himself was so out of it that instead he simply followed after his longtime friend up the stairs and to his bedroom. Almost immediately James' dove in to his thoughts on what had just happened and just what he wanted them to do about it.

At first Max had been proud in James' newfound bravery but now he was finding it somewhat annoying-afterall, he was supposed to be the brave one and yet even here in the safety of James' room he still felt genuine fear. His body itself somewhat reflected these thoughts in the way his face was almost as white as his beat up old leather jacket-his very hands still slightly quivering with adrenaline despite his best efforts.Worse yet was the fact the Jame's was actually wanting to do something about the weird twilight zone episode they had just lived through.

“Now, are you going to help me find out what’s wrong with our town or not?” Max listened to his friend finally ask. Hidden behind his long curly hair Max couldn't help but arch an eyebrow in genuine curiosity at this, his hand stopping mid page flip on the last months issue of Spider Man that he had mindlessly takein from James' secret comic stash to read in a futile effort of takeing his thoughts off of what had happened this night. Swallowing the lump in his throat he finally spoke up in his best effort to sound normal “Are you sure? I mean don't get me wrong...I, uh, totally want to.” He lied “But are you sure you don't just wana like...I dunno, tell your, uhm, parents?”

James raised an eyebrow. "Max, are you serious right now? We just saw someone levitate a FREAKING PERSON, and you want to ask my parents. They'll think I'm insane! They'll think you're insane!" He fell silent as realization hit. "Max, are you...scared?" It would have been comical, except for all the craziness he had been through this night.

Without thinking Max bit down on his bottom lip much like his sister did when upset-eyes affixed to the floor he refused to meet James's stare. Finally the accusation of being scared was to much for him-not knowing what exactly he was feeling the one thing he was certain of was the fiery feeling of his white cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. Finally unable to handle the mix of emotions he defensively snapped back at James “NO I'm not scared! And...and this is stupid! I'm going home!” Tossing the comic in James's face Max turned and ran out the door for the second time this night.

To those effected by the strange events that took place overnight time continued to move despite what was a restless nightmare filled sleep for all involved. None would know it upon waking but all shared the same dream; a horrifying shared memory of being dragged by an unknown force across a cold dank floor towards the large outline of a shape in the ground the eyes could barely make out in the darkness. The shape was that of a circle-a circular hole. Just before being pulled over the edge the dream would abruptly end before anything in the pit could actually be glimpsed.

As if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary the sun rose the next day over Brimstone; the occasional bird song could be heard about town as if to fully paint the picture of an ideal town. It was just another Monday: the day of the week when appetizers were half off at Kate's, The Skunk would have super good drink specials, and as always the Book Club so many adults belonged to would meet for their weekly discussion at the local Library.

–

Across town Brooks awoke in his bed-his head aching with a slight cloudy fatigue from what felt like a heavy night of drinking. Only he didn't remember drinking; what he did remember was walking up the large ancient staircase of the hotel and onto the first section of rooms. Walking down the flowing red carpeted hall the first door he knocked on lead to a rather cranky old man in a wheelchair whose only problem seemed to be Brooks, the second door revealed a portly woman who went on to complain about her gout for a good fifteen minutes, and then there was the third door. He could remember knocking his hand against the sturdy dark brown door with his eyes affixed on the brass room number that read “7” and then...that was it.

--

With a unique sounding “Puh-t'ching” the well maintained American made rifle spat a small tiny BB in the direction of an old tin can Max had been shooting over and over again in an unknowing effort to vent his frustrations. Currently he was in a tiny clearing in the woods behind his home-the small almost circular clearing had knee high grass with a rather impressively tall tree in the center that he and James had converted into their “base” with a few ramshackle sheets of wood and spare pallets they had managed to scrounge up from around town and nail together with tools Max “Totally had permission to use.” A mere rope ladder dangling about a foot from the ground the only way to access. their kingdom in the sky.

Thinking of James though only made Max even more upset: so instead he repeated the same motion he had been doing for almost an hour now by running up to the recently shot can, placing it back up atop a cinder block, and then running back to his previous spot and shooting the recently placed target.

When Brooks woke up, the sun was already high in the sky and the bungalow had every window open. The whole house had been cleaned, head to toe; the bathroom had been recently scrubbed down, the kitchen was spotless, and the living room was decluttered; the only mess was spread haphazardly across the couch, snoring slightly and wearing yellow rubber gloves. A half-eaten bowl of cereal had toppled onto floor and a teaspoon dangled in Abigail's fingers. She was still in her PJ's.

Brooks beelined straight for the kettle, checking its contents for water and putting it on the heat. “How’s the little lady?” he shuffled to the cupboard beside the slowly bubbling water and reached for a jar of coffee.

Abigail made an incoherent groan and then pushed herself up from the couch. “Th’house is clean,” she slurred drowsily. “Did you notice?” she glanced down at the spilled cereal and quietly added a “...oh,” before starting to scoop the contents back into the bowl.

“Sounds like a long night. You have fun then?” Brooks smiled, grabbing a towel and gently tossing it Abigails way to soak up the cereal stains. Turning his attention back towards the boiling kettle and preparing his coffee.

“Yeah, actually. It was more exciting than I thought it would be,” Abigail started dabbing away at the stains on the carpet, suppressing a yawn. Her face quietly contorted into a pained, guilty grimace before she stretched up, grunting and wiping the expression from her face. “Scotty drank too much,” she reported with distaste, “and there weren’t many kids to scare...but it was good. Yeah. Wouldn’t mind doing it next year.” She tried to wash out the best part of the milk from the tea towel and gave Brooks a cursory glance. “You got my dinner, right? Have you got a day off, or is it another exciting romp around town looking for the...dessicated corpses of everyone’s pets?”

Brooks glowered at his steaming cup of coffee as Abigail spoke, “Huh? Yeah.” he answered as his attention seemed to be focused on something else on his mind. “I’ll be on duty, yeah. Not much else I can do about those pets though. You got anywhere to be?”

“I’ve got a shift tonight - but I’m going to go see Lilith and Molly beforehand.” Abigail frowned frowned a little at Brooks, then looked away. She also had a pensive look on her face. “However...I’m gonna try one last time, to find that fucking cat, and get me a lifetime supply of free pie. A lifetime supply.” She promptly grabbed the box of cereal and pulled her trainers on. “Did you get me any more plasters, or..?”

“Oh… sorry, sweetheart I forgot. I had some stuff to take care of. You not look in the medicine cupboard?” Abigail hesitated slightly and gave Brooks one last glance before smirking, wandering over and poking him in the belly.

“It doesn’t matter. If I get attacked by a raccoon and get rabies, I’ll just blame you,” Abigail said cheerily whilst she stuffed her keys in her pocket. “Come see me at the Skunk if you get bored of giving out speeding tickets tonight,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

“Thankfuckthankfuckthankfuck” breathed Abigail under her breath as she trotted down the path and down towards the Owen farmstead. She’ll have to ask Brooks about what was bothering him later; his preoccupation with whatever was on his mind gave Abigail a much-needed opportunity. But by god, she was nervous, and it showed as she wandered down that sun-baked road towards the haunted house again. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips briefly and started shaking the cereal box. “Heeere kitty kitty, heeere kitty,” she called out halfheartedly.

Her hands were shaking half as much as the box was. “Fuck,” hissed Abigail as she fumbled in her other pocket and pulled out a scrap of newspaper with some sort of list scrawled on it in ballpoint pen. “You sure about this? I’m sure about this,” Abigail tried (in vain) to reassure herself. She looked down at her list:

PROS CONS
Superpowered little sister Government torture
Little sister Guantanamo
Less boring in town Probably gonna kill me
Do good thing for once What if Brooks finds out

It went against all logic, all reason, to go and seek out the very creature that nearly killed one man and threw Abigail with her brain. Abigail was acutely aware of the fact - “heeeere kitty kitty kitty,” - that this was, by far, one of the dumbest things she ever attempted to do. It was a patch job; she woke up early but didn’t think things through properly. She didn’t even have a pen and paper to write the girl a note. All she had was a box of cereal and an urge. Why was she doing this? Didn’t she specifically tell Molly not to do this? the grime covered girl recoiled like a wild animal, shrinking into the nearest dark corner with her arms defensively over her face...

Abigail shook her head. “No, I told her to keep quiet,” she sternly reminded herself. “Wheeeere are you, you fucking cat,” she called out afterwards. Abigail technically wasn’t going to say anything. She was just going to go out and...actively seek out the very creature that nearly killed one man and threw Abigail with her brain. She wandered past the fields and into the brush, stepping off the beaten path and taking a sharp turn - towards the forest, away from the haunted house.

Every fibre of Abigail’s being was trying to bring her back. She was sweating more than usual and shivering like she had a fever. She kept licking her lips. That odd feeling that rose within her yesterday was back in full force and pounded against her psyche like a buffeting wind. She was clearly shocked by Abigail’s sudden friendly nonchalant manner...Her trainers reluctantly crunched on the sunbaked twigs and scrubby bushes of the forest, where the trees caused a sharp curtain of darkness to cover the land and stretch as far as the eye could see. Abigail knew this because she was squinting into the woods, calling for a cat that she wasn’t even looking for.

One sharp intake of breath later, Abigail had crossed the threshold. It felt indescribably worse to be amongst these trees now; she had skirted the woodlands behind her house many times with her friends to go and do dumb things like show off to them whilst they smoked weed. These weren’t her trees, and this wasn’t her forest; it belonged to the wildchild. Abigail was intentionally trespassing. Who was watching her? Why did it feel like she was being watched?

The goal was to get as far into the woods as she feasibly could without getting herself lost, kick up a ruckus on the way there, drop the cereal box and walk out again. That was the goal - whether Abigail kept her nerve long enough to do it was another matter entirely. Her fingers crumpled up the list several times over. “K-kitty?” she called out uncertainly into the gloomy depths. She wasn’t calling for a cat; she was never calling for a cat...for a brief moment looked as though she might actually say something...Her feet tramped through the undergrowth like a bull in a china shop, she was being as loud and as clumsy as she could manage, her breath came out in short pants as she dared herself to call out just a little louder. “Kitty!”

This was it; Abigail stood alone amongst the looming treetrunks, surrounded on all sides by the inescapable sense of danger. This was as far as she could go. There was a strip of light far behind her where the woods abruptly ended to make way for flourishing farms. These trees shared the same soil; it was no wonder the forest was so overwhelmingly massive, especially for a city girl. “Y-you...You don’t have to come out, cat.” she tried to make her voice ring clear in the forest without attracting too much attention. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m gonna just-...leave this food here.” Abigail gently, slowly crouched down and spread the leaves, pouring cheerios in a heap on the floor - giving the ‘cat’ the entire contents of the box. “And I’ll come back tomorrow and see if it’s gone anywhere. And maybe I’ll bring some more, if it has.” God, god, she felt like she was going to throw up. Abigail straightened up and dusted her hands on her shorts. She braced herself for the worst, expecting to be scalped against the bark of an old oak. She just hoped that her imminent demise was quick and relatively painless. She lived a full life; she could probably die without feeling too bad about it.

...Tears welling up in the large brown eyes that stood out beneath her greasy hair. Abigail couldn’t get it out of her head. She had seen that face before; she never wanted to see it again, which is why she was risking it all to help this frightened little girl. She shoved her free hand into her pocket, turned her back on the pile of cereal and started the long walk out of the woods.

Molly had fell asleep and stayed asleep until morning time. Her petite body curled up on the couch, only a sliver of skin showing as her blanket was pushed off of her during the night. It was summer, but the basement remained chilled all the time. Bringing her palms up to her face she rubbed her eyes until they reached that level of pleasure that rubbing your eyes strangely did. She then stretched her arms above her head and arched her back into a full stretch before sitting up quickly. She sat there with her eyes closed for a bit, her head pressed up to the back of the couch. Was last night just a weird dream? Molly half wondered, and half hoped that it had been.

Gazing over at the side table she saw a note and a ten dollar bill. "Will be gone tonight. Pizza on me. - Mom" Molly rasied her eyebrows, Mondays were always a late night because of the book club meetings but never were offerings of pizza involved. Molly climbed up the stairs to see her grandmother napping in a recliner in the living room. Molly rustled around still in her pajamas, grabbing a bowl and pouring herself some cereal and sitting in the couch adjacent to her snoring grandmother. On television played game shows, the match game being an older choice but still a favorite in the Rossi household. Eating her breakfast without too much emotion, Molly went back down into the basement and searched through some clothes that were clean enough to hang out with the girls.

She settled on some jean shorts and an over sized California raisin's teeshirt. Underneath she wore a plain black two piece swimsuit. The girls had planned on swimming today, or at least grabbing some sun while they could during the not wintery seasons in Brimstone. Molly did her usual makeup and morning routine. Shoving the ten dollar bill, a few cigarettes, and a lighter in her pocket Molly made her way back upstairs and out the door without waking her grandma. The woman could sleep through most anything, making her an easy target for sneaking in and out of the house.

Reaching the hot springs, Molly assumed she had been early. She was going to call both of the girl's house to see if they were still on for today, but since Abigail had skipped out on her last night, Molly felt that even if the girls didn't show up- she would at least have a good time by herself. The young woman had no intentions on paying for entrance. She had ten dollars and that was for better things like pizza, or convincing some college aged boys to buy her alcohol- not for hot springs.

Circling the area she finally found a bushy area and climbed over the fence. Her legs would be scratched up but Molly wasn't trying to win a Miss Brimstone pageant anytime soon anyways. Getting to the other side she would be met with the back end of the grand hotel and the hot springs that surrounded it. The smell of sulfur was strong, and because of this they tried to block the aroma with even stronger smells of lavender. It was kind of sickening if you focused on it.

Grabbing a small row of lean back lawn chairs, Molly took off her shoes, and other clothes and claimed her spot on one of the chairs. She eased herself into one of the hot springs, not deep enough to get her hair wet. She didn't want to waste that much hairspray over one dip in the water. Sitting on the edge she let her body relax, until she decided to get out and enjoy the sun instead. Using her rolled up clothes as a pillow, she leaned back in the chair and let the sun hit her pale skin. She hoped that her friends were to show up soon.

Lilith came to a halt in her leisure pacing, staring down at the last line of the poem with a small smile. “But you are already awake.” She whispered to herself near silently, fingernails painted in chipped black polish traced over the words. Humming lightly, she closed the small book, no distinguishable marks, simply looking like a small black book.

Crossing her messy room, she returned the book to it's place on top of her dresser, glancing over at her wall where a clock rested, the girl made an 'oh, right' expression. Moving over to her bed, she picked up her usual pack of cigarettes, stuffing them into her pocket, but not before snagging a smoke. Also grabbing her golden lighter, Lilith turned and was prepared to leave her room but paused, looking into her mirror at her clothes, making sure it was all appropriate.

Her eyes lingered on the messy eyeliner but shrugged, uncaring.

Leaving her room, she made a turn to the right, stopping outside of her brother's room. She peeked in through the crack, spotting the large lump under the covers that was her brother. Her eyes immediately went to the glass by his bedside, making out the small amount of amber liquid remaining. And it dawned on her in that moment how her brother managed to go to sleep that night.

Frowning a little but silent, Lilith moved away from the door, walking down the hall. At the front door, she took the time to put on her black combat boots, placing the cigarette in her mouth for the time being. After she'd finished messily tying them, she righted herself, grabbing her skateboard from it's slanted place in front of the door and stepping out.

Squinting at the bright sun, Lilith set down her board. Placing one foot on it, she took the time to brandish her lighter, carefully lighting the end of her cigarette. Taking a drag as she stuffed her lighter back into her pocket, she then took off down the street, the only real sound being the wheels of her skateboard against the pavement.

After a few minutes, she reached the hot springs, not even bothering to go through the front and instead circling around the back. Stepping off her skateboard, she approached the fence with an arched eyebrow. Giving a small nod, she let smoke escape her lips in a nice stream, prepping herself. Then, she let her cigarette rest off to the side before lightly tossing her skateboard over. Although, to be fair, it didn't matter much for how hard she threw it, gravity was relentless regardless. But, Lilith was confident and unconcerned, having done this before obviously.

She then proceeded to carefully climb over the fence, though getting the odd scratch or two herself.

Landing on the other side, her eyes were drawn to her friend, Molly. Smiling a little, she walked past her discarded skateboard, approaching Molly. Choosing a lawn chair herself, she let herself 'gracefully' plop down on one of them, not bothering to join Molly. She gave a wave and groan in greeting, spread out dramatically over the chair (And partially some of the others.), taking a drag from her cigarette in silent cheers for making it.

Cold...Hurt...Monster!
The moment James woke up, he popped out of bed, much to his parents' surprise. For most of the summer, he had been lazing in his room for as long as humanly possible. It was always about midday by the time he went to visit Max. He showered, and got dressed quickly into the same clothes he always wore on his misadventures. His parents finally decided to say something. "Son, I understand that you are excited, but can you please tell us where you are going?" James turned around, his sunglasses in hand, backpack slung on his shoulder. "Library." He said, but for once it was actually true.
James loved his bike. It had always been there for him. Even at this moment. Max had been too afraid to come with him, so James was just going to solve this himself. Even as he thought it, he felt scared himself. His speech last night had all been craziness spouting from the fountain of words that was his mouth. SQUEAL! A car screeched out of James's way, and James swerved out of the road. Due to this split second decision, he fell off his bike into the nearby ditch. "Hey, Germ." James looked up, and went pale. It was the Owen brothers. Over time, they had ceased to become a threat, but without Max, he was toast.
James sighed. "Son of a bitch." He scrambled to his feet. "Hey guys. Nice summer?" The Owens looked at each other. "Shut the fuck up, Germ." The taller, and frankly, less terrifying one said. James turned to the opposite direction, and ran for his bike. In a second, he had reached it. In another, it was up. And by the time five seconds had passed, he was riding off. The Owen brothers were furious. "YOU'RE DEAD, GERM! HEAR ME? DEAD!" He held his middle finger high that day, until they started running after him. By the time he reached the library, he had lost the brothers and discovered a course of action. James had deduced that some of this might be related to the Egg Man. Now it was time to find out how he could find it.
James stepped up to the librarian's desk. "Excuse me ma'am, but do you have any books on the Egg Man?" She raised an eyebrow, but started to grab a particularly dusty journal, before James interrupted. "And can I have some paper and a pen?" Once the confused librarian gave him his materials, he set up at the nearest table and began to make a rough sketch of Brimstone, including every building, some of them overlapping from all the different years since the town was founded. He pored through the book, looking for any clues about where he could find it, until he found a certain section.

The men keep working, despite the horrors that come with the hard labor. Screams echo through the shafts as guttural howlings follow. And yet still, the men toil on, thinking the hole will never be finished.
James starting writing notes on the back.

Working?
Shafts?
Hole?
Screams?
Howling?
He frowned as he quickly worked out what the poor writer of this journal must be speaking of. The mines...And by extent, the worst place it could possibly be located. He stood up quickly, the chair scraping loudly. It was finally time to see if he could find the monster behind it.

Abigail arrived considerably later than Lillith. She introduced her arrival by rather abruptly vaulting the fence with a practised, fluid motion; for someone with so many injuries, Abigail had long ago flaunted the her climbing skills were superior and didn’t feel like stopping just because everyone else was fed up of it. She was carrying an empty cereal box. In fact, when she landed she looked down at the box with surprise and a brief ‘oh-fuck’ moment that would’ve been suspicious if she didn’t immediately follow it up with “I ate all my fucking cheerios on the way here?!”

As per usual, Abigail was poorly dressed for the occasion - she didn’t have a swimsuit. Or, well, she did have one but she refused to wear it. The story goes that her uncle tried to teach her how to swim last year - went off to one of the deeper hot springs near the back of the hotel, the ones reserved specifically for the establishment. Legend says you could hear Abigail’s furious screeching from as far as the football stadium behind the high school. Unfortunately, this was long before Abigail had escaped from her little defensive shell that accompanied her from New Orleans, so Molly and Lillith had to rely on hearsay for such an early point in Abigail’s life here in Brimstone.

“You’ll have to excuse my lateness, I was” - on the other side of the town feeding a fugitive - ”trying to figure out what to wear this morning. Now where were you last night, hmm?” Abigail jabbed a finger in Lillith’s direction accusingly. “Mind you, Lil, you didn’t miss much at all. Only two kids showed up!” Three, technically. “Scotty still had fun though...and I guess that’s what matters?” Abigail shrugged.

“Anyway, it was pretty dull. Now, since we’re only in the company of women here...and whichever vegetablised patients those nurses have turned towards the window...I hope you don’t mind if I get changed into my birthday suit.” It was more of a warning than a question because Abigail immediately started to strip. As mentioned before, Abigail’s pasty little body was covered in all sorts of shiny, pinkish scars from head to toe. What Lillith hasn’t seen before, however, was the roaring violet splotch that took up a solid quarter of her ribcage. Molly, unfortunately, had seen it once before; it stood out as the most concrete evidence that the events of yesterday were very much real. It wasn’t the only injury on her - she was once again adorned with those heavy duty, super sticky waterproof plasters that her uncle bought in bulk - but it was the most impressive one of the lot.

Abigail didn’t stop talking, even as she got changed. “I get why the hotel’s becoming a death’s doorstep for old people, but seriously? If I got that ill I’d hope someone would take me out back and shoot me. Better dead than useless, that’s what I think.” Abigail’s expression contorted into pain as she bent over to pull off her socks and shoes. “And I wouldn’t want the last thing I get to experience to be this godawful stench of lavender and shit, either.”

“Hey guys don'tletmEDROWN--!” Abigail cried as she leapt into the water, stark naked, and slid down to sit beside Molly. Her hair spread out like an oil slick; face half-submerged underwater, Abigail blew bubbles with her mouth contentedly.

The plopping sound in one of the chair's next to her caused Molly to jump and turn her head quickly. She wouldn't admit to being a little freaked out since the incident yesterday but she remained calm, cool, and collected. Molly watched Lilith take a drag of her cigarette, "Where were you last night, bitch?" Molly wondered, but didn't speak it. The added word of bitch was in a loving form. It was when other girls called each other honey and sweetheart that you needed to be worried of a fight breaking out. She reached out and took the cigarette from her friend's lips and took her own drag before returning it softly. The two laid their in the sun, enjoying the silence and heat before Abigail arrived much later than the planned time.

Molly sat up in her chair as she watched Abigail poke and prod Lilith with the same question that she had thought about earlier. "Yeah, where were you?" Molly piped in, her throat a little raspy from not speaking for most of the day. Molly nodded along with Abigail's comments of last night, adding in the random comments of "yeah" and "lame" here and there. Abigail then began to strip and Molly giggled, but her eyes couldn't help but trace over the scars and the huge bruise that covered most of the girl's pale body. "Fuck Abigail that looks bad." she said to herself, hoping Lilith wouldn't question it. Please God, don't question it.

Abigail proceeded to hop in and come up, bubbles coming from the depths the young girl emerged and Molly smirked, "You're like a national geographic piece Abigail." she laughed before looking around. It was true this place was mostly filled with corpses. Old people that could barely wipe their own ass let alone know that they were slowly decomposing. Molly stood up off the chair and proceeded to take her own bathing suit off, "Why the fuck not!" she laughed. Molly's skin was just as pale as Abigail's but instead of littered with scars it was littered with terrible home made tattoos. She walked off the edge letting her body standing up right go straight into the water. She didn't care about her hair and makeup anymore, she was just going to have a nice summer day with her two best friends.

Lilith had a small smirk on her face as she watched her friends both question her and describe a seemingly uneventful night. She briefly considered bringing up what happened at the diner but wasn't sure if her brother wanted it to spread to anyone else. And to be honest, she would much prefer forgetting it and moving on.

“If you must know, I was spending time with John. Doesn't seem like I missed much.” She lightly teased at end, feeling more mellow and chill now that she was surrounded by two of her best friends.

Taking a drag, Lilith's eyes were drawn to the bruise on Abigail's ribs. Lilith tensed a bit, fingers twitching automatically. Her eyes flickered to Molly who seemed unsurprised by it, if not pensive. Lilith considered voicing her thoughts aloud but instead blew out smoke, glancing away as Abigail jumped into the water, having stripped down.

But, it was as Molly proceeded to get fully undressed that Lilith ended up staring at them somewhat like they were crazy. But, it was why she loved them so the look didn't remain for long. Fuck it, she thought to herself with a small shrug, standing up to also take off her clothing. “Eh, you raise a good point. Better to die with dignity, I suppose.” She mused, having quickly gotten undressed revealing darker skin by the comparison of her friends, tanned from the sun but rather skinny, albeit not too skinny like her friends, her having more of a figure with no real scarring apart from a small one on her hip. And she only has one tattoo, of a feather on her opposite hip.

Taking another drag, she entered the water with less enthusiasm but rather happily none the less.

“You actively seek family time?...O-kay.” Abigail responded blandly, looking a little weirded out before putting on that same disarming smile that she uses. “You’re right nonetheless. On both accounts. Boring Fright Night, boring hotel. Man, nothing cool ever happens here.” Don’t say it, you might jinx it. Don’t say it. Abigail dipped her mouth underwater and continued shimmying around the edge of the hot spring, blowing bubbles instead of continuing her train of thought. The only times she resurfaced were to make very crude remarks about her friends and their indecency, but only in jest, as they also joined her in the hot spring.

Meanwhile, a little way off, Brooks parked his ride a few streets away from the hotel, making sure to position it somewhere inconspicuous enough to not stick out. That was hard however, its colored siren and matching stripes ruining the immersion among the scarcely located mid-american car models. He climbed out and made his way to the fence separating the road from the outskirts of the hotel.

“Of course!” she resurfaced a little as Molly connected her to the quintessential waiting room magazine. “I’m a natural fucking wonder, baby. It’s why I had to move here in the first place, what with all those professional photographers trying to sneak a shot of my-”

With a huff and puff Brooks eventually managed to pull himself up and over the object, scraping himself in the process and botching the landing which incited a quickly recovered tumble from him. There was a hacking noise as Abigail swallowed some hot-spring-sulphur water with surprise. Her head jolted out of the water as she rubbed at her nose painfully. Her gaze settled on Brooks for a while, frozen in surprise, before one arm shot cheerfully out of the water and waved him over. “Good afternoon officer!” she cried, a big smile spread across her features

Brooks froze on the spot, caring very little at the dirt he had gotten on his pants from the tumble. A million thoughts rushed through his head before settling on the most reasonable response: “What are you-” he stopped, recollecting his composure and thinking of something less incriminating to ask. “I thought I was hearin’ a drowning cat or something.” he lied, desperately trying to throw suspicion off him.

“Drowning cat? Nah, just your drowning niece.” Abigail pondered over the excuse for a moment, but the way her big smile melted into a shit-eating grin was a surefire sign that she didn’t buy it for one second. “How come you didn’t take the front door, then?”

Brooks instantly scowled, annoyed at the unwanted line of questioning he was submitted to, baring his teeth and forced to endure it he replied: “Ah you know… in case it needed help, shortcut.”

“And you just so happened to be wandering around right outside the hotel fence when it happened?” Abigail leant on the edge of the hot spring eagerly. “Nice to see you’re taking this pet finding business seriously for once, considering you told me they were probably all dead by now!”

“‘Ey! Listen here you little brat, you know damn well this place counts as trespassin’, I’ve told you all a million times! Grab your stuff and be outta’ here in five.” he raised his voice, ensuring all participants heard. He didn’t really care about what they were doing, as long as it wasn’t damaging anything he rarely ever did. But he was dead set on finding out what exactly went down here last night, and the last thing he wanted was to involve the trio or be disrupted by them.

“C’mon girls, we better do what the deputy says…” With a majestic splash, Abigail abruptly stood up and revealed her jiggly bits to the world as she went to get changed. “...Especially since I’ll get my ass grounded if I don’t,” she added bitterly. Something struck her as she was pulling her t-shirt on, though. “Hey - if this place counts as ‘tresspassin’, how come you’re here?”

“I was told some of the lost pets were spotted here. I got reason to be snoopin’ around. Now scram.” he continued to scowl in their direction, arms folded and impatiently waiting for them to leave.

Abigail stood and stared at Brooks for a couple minutes before muttering something in French and collapsing into one of the plastic chairs near the pool, waiting on her friends to get changed so they could all ‘be outta there in five’.

Brooks scoffed, watching the three girls disperse relatively fast, and chose to ignore Abigail's attitude as he had more important things to worry about. After all had departed he began his slow paced search around the outskirts of the hotel, occasionally stopping to ensure he wasn’t being followed or watched to the best of his abilities. His goal was to get a possible vantage point on the window looking out of the hotel, potentially even scale up to it if the opportunity presented itself. For now however, baby steps.

After putting in quite a bit of leg work and effort Brooks had found little more than the fact that the Brimstone Hotel used beige window curtains-to make matters even worse he also found absolutely no trace of any missing pets. Upon finally returning to the pathetic excuse of a police station Brooks was greeted to the deafening silence of a completely empty office. Before it felt like he had anytime to truly revel in the brief calming quite Brooks could hear the door to the station opening before he was witness to the free show that was Carter trying to shove his massive girth through the door shaped for normal human beings. Like most days the portly old sheriff was red faced and covered in a heavy sweat beneath the tannish green cowboy hat he always wore-Brook's did however notice that Carter had his wooly white eyebrows furrowed in a tight jawed scowl that was quite unusual when compared to his normal oblivious half paying attention expression.

Shoving himself through the doorway in what Brooks could only remember as record time Carter carried this momentum with his heavy deliberate steps towards Brooks desk. Like a bad storm approaching the hostile energy could be felt radiating off Carter in a way that almost even made him look imposing. Locking eyes with Brooks it was very clear pleasantries were not going to be exchanged as Carter finally let out an angry bark of workds "Just what the hell was last night about, boy? You know damn well I have one rule in this here town when it comes to your big city antics!"

Brooks stared at him silence, seemingly deeply and thoroughly mulling over his words. He had been in similar situations before, having gone against his superiors, but he sure as hell wasn't planning on taking a side seat this time.With no prospects of rising in rank or having the need to kiss the ass of his superiors for a better case, Brooks didn't feel as restricted as he did back in the city. "I know, sir." he nodded, licking his lips and hooking his thumbs by his belt and he glanced away from Carters disgruntled gaze before looking back and speaking: "I feel like we outta' talk about whats going on here. "Help me help you" sorta' situation." he asked, expectantly hoping the bulging man to share some enlightenment on the situation. How bad could this whole thing even be? Sheriff cutting crooked deals with the hotel? Illegals being worked underneath it?

Before answering the old sheriff let fly a partiularly large glob of chewed tobacco. “Boy, I know you ain't from here but that Hotel you've been beatin doors down at and spyin through windows in is the life blood of this here town. I know she's rough around the edges at the moment, but its a work in progress dammit...She's a diamond that can shine again. You get me, boy?” He shook his head momentarily, as if trying to wipe the thought away. Brooks could recognize it as Carter trying to stay on track when flustered.

Deciding his now rather wet and continuing to redden face was becoming a real issue Carter went about pulling a white handkerchief from the pocket on the backside of his pants that his pudgy arms could just barely reach. Wasting no time he went about dabbing the ever increasing salty liquid off his forehead and cheeks in a rather failing effort.

“Of course you don't understand.” Carter said, answering his own question in between a pained wheeze. “Your not from here. Got damn outta towners...your the real source of the troubles round here...” Trailing off again Carter leaned forward and placed his left hand on the edge of Brook's desk-the creaking sound it quickly emitted made it rather obvious he was using it to hold quite a bit of his weight up.

Looming over Brooks now Carter began to have his enraged expression literally drain away with the color of his face.

Brooks’ frustration grew as Carter mentioned having spotted him outside the hotel earlier in the day. How he got caught, he had no idea. One of the girls? He heard their kerfuffle in the water? A hundred thoughts rushed through his mind before a sudden sense of danger washed over him. Carter was slowly turning out to be more crafty and observant over the ongoings in this town then Brooks gave him credit, either him or someone else was truly king. Did he have someone trail him? Watch his house? Wire his phone? Before complete paranoia could take over, Brooks retorted: “You can either have me be a nuisance, or you can stop keeping me in the dark and have one less worry.” He looked up at the towering man.

“Boy...you don't know what your actually asking here.” Carter almost whispered in response as he locked eyes with Brooks. For the first time since Brooks had met the man Carter was wide eyed and awake; his full attention focused on Brooks as the last pigments of red disappeared from his cheeks. Keeping eye contact Carter huffed himself full of air as he straightened back up. “You really want answers?” He cried out in a surprising display of emotion as if trying to warn Brooks away with the very strangeness of his attitude.

Brooks kept a scowl directed up at Carter: “I’d fuckin’ well appreciate that, yea.” he quipped back.

With a heavy sigh Carter turned his back to Brooks, his gaze fixing upon something in the distance more likely visible in his mind than by the naked eye. Without turning to look Brooks in the eye he finally spoke again, his voice reflecting his increasingly worn out appearance. “Allright then, probably for the best all things considered...If your serious about this then meet me in the library parking lot tonight after they close. Ill have to take care of a few things in the meantime.” Without waiting for a reply Carter sauntered himself back out onto the street apparently taking the day off.

Molly nodded in agreement to Abigail, Lilith wanting to spend time with her brother was endearing but something Molly could not relate to. The less amount of time she could spend with her grandmother and mother the better. The three girls giggled and fooled around in the hot springs. This was what summer vacation was all about, not having a care in the world and spending it with your two best friends.

It wasn't too later that Abigail's uncle ruined this precious moment. The bumbling deputy talked and threatened the girls as he himself broke the law by cutting over the fence they had all learned about a few summers ago. Molly instinctively brought her hand to her chest to cover her lady bits he stumbled over his words and as Abigail gave smart ass remarks back. Molly liked Brooks, he was one of the cooler "chaperones" for events and often let the girls get away with a lot more things than other parents would ever allowed.

The three were kicked out, naked and trying to get dressed and out of there before Brooks would turn them into their parents and end their day. Molly's drenched hair hung against the back of her shirt heavily. "You guys want to dry off at the park? Catch some rays?" Molly asked, wrapping her hands around her hair and wringing it out letting the water drop to the ground. The three girls agreed, the park would be a sufficient place to hang out until they could figure something else out.

This time instead of climbing over the fence they walked right out the front doors, uncaring of the hotel staff giving them odd looks and glances. Eventually the three girls found themselves at the park, laid out in the grass. Molly and Lilith passed a cigarette to and from one another as they talked about what kind of hell they should raise tonight.

Abigail hesitated ever-so-slightly to peer at the retreating form of her uncle before she also wandered out of the front doors, frowning. The walk back from the hotel was twice as uncomfortable as the walk there since she had to pull her clothes on whilst sopping wet, causing them to chafe against her thighs and arms. She grunted in agreement to going towards the park; Abigail was too busy thinking, or sulking, to really provide any decent conversation. Instead, the crunch of three pairs of trainers across the tarmac accompanied the incessant birdsong and cricket chirps of Brimstone’s sweltering summer.

Abigail thudded down onto the grass back-first and was suddenly reminded of last night’s defenestration. She pulled a grimace as if she tasted something unpleasant and rolled onto her side to face her friends. “I can’t do anything tonight,” she reported bluntly. “I’ve got a shift at the bar. Of course, I’d invite you guys along, but…” she smirked. How Abigail - a minor - managed to get a job working part-time as a waitress in the Drunken Skunk is a mystery, but there’s no doubt that Brooks might have had a say in it. Unfortunately, Abigail’s stories about her time in there weren’t too appealing; it was a spit-and-sawdust sort of pub, only frequented by podgy old men to drink a pint or two with their colleagues every night. The most exciting news Abigail had to report was that someone threw up all over the jukebox last Christmas and she was given the pleasure of cleaning it up.

“What that means,” Abigail grunted as she sat up, “is we gotta think of something to do and quick. Oh, and it also means I’m gonna steal leftovers from your grandma.” She poked Molly in the ribs, grinning mischievously. “We could go bully the Owen Brothers…” she hummed, “...Or we could, uhm...fuck. Fucksake. You country hicks and your lack of entertainment. Go on, you both grew up here.” Abigail gestured vaguely to both Lillith and Molly. “Don’t leave me to figure out what to do all the time.”

Lilith watched the interaction between Brooks and Abigail with amusement, lazily taking drags from her cigarette. However, she did notice Molly go to cover herself, idly wondering if she should do the same. However, Lilith was the kind of girl who, to be frank, didn't much care for who saw her. She was confident in both herself and her body to the point where it was really no big deal for her.

Following her friend's lead in getting dressed, Lilith tossed her hair up in a messy updo as she trailed after them, the trio eventually making their way to the park for a bit of R&R, idle conversation happening between her and Molly all the while.

But, when the question of what to do came up to her and Molly, Lilith found herself somewhat at a loss for words. (Interesting thing as she usual preferred not speaking just in general.) Lilith was always more of a... go with the flow, kinda person. She'd always happily follow after her friends, providing support and just enjoying their next big adventure. After all, between the three of them, she was the more boring one. Usually preferring to read, write, or just go get lost somewhere. She doubts they'd be excited about it...

Lilith gave a small shrug, lightly tapping her cigarette and watching the ash fall. “We're in bum-fuck nowhere.” She finally said, peering up at the other two with a small smile. “Unless you wanna go explore the woods or go ruin some people's day... what you see is kinda what we've got.” She finished, taking one more drag before passing it to Molly.