Mixtape Ghost NWhen 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.
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.