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Spike Langley spent the majority of his flight from LAX to EYW restless and deep in thought. With a headset on, his right hand holding his phone as he watched Spiderman: No Way Home, and his left hand sketching on his drawing pad, he stared blankly at the screen, lost in space. His mind was stuck on replay, as if their last conversation, where she was in tears, was only yesterday. If only he had worded things differently, if only he told her how much she meant to him, if only he didn’t let her go.
Now the handsome, yet forlorn, artist spends the majority of his adulthood focusing on himself. Okay, correction. In recent years, he found himself unable to compromise his time, energy, and mental health for people he didn’t care about. He found himself tired of the bullshit. He found himself tired of hiding things behind a smile. Tired of the flings, the games, and all the faces he could barely remember. Spike wanted to feel something more. He was successful… But why did he feel so empty?
Ah, yes. It’s because when he closed his eyes, he saw too much. He felt too much. He could hear too much. When he closed his eyes, memories that should’ve faded were forever on rewind. The more he ponders, the less likely he will forget. The most cherished and heartbreaking time of his life, held in the frame of his heart. How did all these become memories? How did he let this go?
Sighing to himself, Spike placed his phone face down on the tray table, turning off the screen and pausing the movie. His blue eyes examined his drawing, in an unhurried manner, measuring every line, curve, and shade. A blonde woman crying her eyes out. He observed the sketch of her face and thought to himself: Looks just like you.
If there was one thing Spike could hope for by coming to this high school reunion, it would be to get this melody out of his head, a melody of stars, dreams, and fantasies. A melody that did not belong to him. No matter how many years passed he could close his eyes and see everything from his past so vividly. He was awake, always awake, floating in life, playing visions on repeat, replaying over and over again, like a broken record.
Was this weird?
He grew up. He grew in ways he never believed he could, and yet, thoughts lingered in his head, as if he was still that angst filled, horny ass, teenage boy in a lion costume. All he wanted to do was to apologize, apologize and let this old feeling go. He knew it was selfish of him for going to this thing for his own benefit. He didn’t even really want to see the rest of his class. He only cared for a handful of them and even then, he could see them whenever he wanted. But he knew, if he wanted to avoid an awkward meeting, this would be the best reason to see her again.
The Star in his life was married. Happy with a man and a son. She was an influencer that statistically dominated in the beauty community (not like he did the research or anything). She was on a silly episode of Say Yes to the Dress, advocates for the deaf on her channel, and is beautifully thriving. Completely and utterly happy. She was shining, without him, like he knew she would. Spike was so happy for her and at a distance, he would support her, anonymously.
Snapping out of his daze, Spike felt a nudge on his shoulder. The younger flight attendant of two waited for him to meet her hazel gaze. Without much hesitation, Spike adjusted his posture and amicably questioned, “Hey, yeah. What’s up?” She didn’t have her food cart so maybe she simply wanted to tell him about turbulence or something.
“Sorry for interrupting you! I, um, this might be weird but there was a young boy and his mother, two rows behind you, who wanted me to ask if you were Spike Langley.” The twenty something year old redhead, who looked like this was her first week on the job, nervously fiddled with her fingers, anxiously waiting, hoping her superiors wouldn't reprimand her. “If not, that’s fine! I don’t even know who that is, ha. Eh-hem. I’ll just tell them no.”
“Woah, breathe…” Spike glanced at her chest, his eyes going to her name tag, avoiding her boob area to the best of his capabilities, before giving her a charming and welcoming smile, “Miss Miley. What’s the kid’s name?”
“I don’t know if I should…” Looking left and right, left and right again, Miley took a deep breath and decided to take a risk, hoping her gut feeling wasn’t trusting too easily. In a whisper, she cautiously added, “Kyle…”
After raising his finger to her, happy with her response, Spike cleared the tray table, pushed it up, and reached for his backpack that was under the passenger seat in front of him. In a matter of seconds, he grabbed the newest volume of Paper Warriors, scribbled his name on the back of the front cover with a green marker, and left an uplifting note: Kyle, always have a star farther than your grasp as your goal. I promise you, nothing is impossible, if you put your whole heart into it.
Gesturing for Miley to take the mint condition book, Spike mischievously grinned at the doe-eyed woman when she realized that he was the original creator of Paper Warriors. It was clear she only knew his work from the animated series, which meant she knew of the first live action movie that was coming. Scheduled to premiere at the end of this year. “Tell Kyle this hasn’t gotten to stores yet and that I hope he enjoys being the first one to read it, aside from my editor.” Miley profusely nodded, before attempting to walk away. “Oh and one more thing.” She turned back to look at the famous comic artist and writer. “You’re both free to see me after this flight to take pictures. I have time.”
The flight attendant’s gentle soul was quick to blush, kind of like pink champagne. Once he did a lazy wave goodbye, he glimpsed at his watch. It was almost time. In reality, he didn’t actually have time for a quick meet & greet but who would he be if he denied a child a chance to meet someone they looked up to? He’d be a jackass, that’s what he’d be.
Spike knew he should’ve listened to his bros, like Nate, Max, or Rico. He should’ve booked his flight a week ago, but of course, Spike being Spike forgot. He booked his flight yesterday, at the last minute, and a travel agent was able to squeeze him in on a later flight. The cocktail party was at 8 PM, EST. The airport was around a ten minute drive away from the hotel. He had to rent a car. He had to get his room keys. He had to drop off his bags and… he was landing around 7:25 PM. Still, there was a silver lining. He made two people smile on this flight today.
I’ll be fiiiiiine. Nothing wrong with being fashionably late. He would get there when he got there. If anything, he had more time to play out what he would say and how he would say it when he saw her.
Yes, when he sees her.
He was going to see her.
Oh my god, he was going to see her...
(cue panic)
Now the handsome, yet forlorn, artist spends the majority of his adulthood focusing on himself. Okay, correction. In recent years, he found himself unable to compromise his time, energy, and mental health for people he didn’t care about. He found himself tired of the bullshit. He found himself tired of hiding things behind a smile. Tired of the flings, the games, and all the faces he could barely remember. Spike wanted to feel something more. He was successful… But why did he feel so empty?
Ah, yes. It’s because when he closed his eyes, he saw too much. He felt too much. He could hear too much. When he closed his eyes, memories that should’ve faded were forever on rewind. The more he ponders, the less likely he will forget. The most cherished and heartbreaking time of his life, held in the frame of his heart. How did all these become memories? How did he let this go?
Sighing to himself, Spike placed his phone face down on the tray table, turning off the screen and pausing the movie. His blue eyes examined his drawing, in an unhurried manner, measuring every line, curve, and shade. A blonde woman crying her eyes out. He observed the sketch of her face and thought to himself: Looks just like you.
If there was one thing Spike could hope for by coming to this high school reunion, it would be to get this melody out of his head, a melody of stars, dreams, and fantasies. A melody that did not belong to him. No matter how many years passed he could close his eyes and see everything from his past so vividly. He was awake, always awake, floating in life, playing visions on repeat, replaying over and over again, like a broken record.
Was this weird?
He grew up. He grew in ways he never believed he could, and yet, thoughts lingered in his head, as if he was still that angst filled, horny ass, teenage boy in a lion costume. All he wanted to do was to apologize, apologize and let this old feeling go. He knew it was selfish of him for going to this thing for his own benefit. He didn’t even really want to see the rest of his class. He only cared for a handful of them and even then, he could see them whenever he wanted. But he knew, if he wanted to avoid an awkward meeting, this would be the best reason to see her again.
The Star in his life was married. Happy with a man and a son. She was an influencer that statistically dominated in the beauty community (not like he did the research or anything). She was on a silly episode of Say Yes to the Dress, advocates for the deaf on her channel, and is beautifully thriving. Completely and utterly happy. She was shining, without him, like he knew she would. Spike was so happy for her and at a distance, he would support her, anonymously.
Snapping out of his daze, Spike felt a nudge on his shoulder. The younger flight attendant of two waited for him to meet her hazel gaze. Without much hesitation, Spike adjusted his posture and amicably questioned, “Hey, yeah. What’s up?” She didn’t have her food cart so maybe she simply wanted to tell him about turbulence or something.
“Sorry for interrupting you! I, um, this might be weird but there was a young boy and his mother, two rows behind you, who wanted me to ask if you were Spike Langley.” The twenty something year old redhead, who looked like this was her first week on the job, nervously fiddled with her fingers, anxiously waiting, hoping her superiors wouldn't reprimand her. “If not, that’s fine! I don’t even know who that is, ha. Eh-hem. I’ll just tell them no.”
“Woah, breathe…” Spike glanced at her chest, his eyes going to her name tag, avoiding her boob area to the best of his capabilities, before giving her a charming and welcoming smile, “Miss Miley. What’s the kid’s name?”
“I don’t know if I should…” Looking left and right, left and right again, Miley took a deep breath and decided to take a risk, hoping her gut feeling wasn’t trusting too easily. In a whisper, she cautiously added, “Kyle…”
After raising his finger to her, happy with her response, Spike cleared the tray table, pushed it up, and reached for his backpack that was under the passenger seat in front of him. In a matter of seconds, he grabbed the newest volume of Paper Warriors, scribbled his name on the back of the front cover with a green marker, and left an uplifting note: Kyle, always have a star farther than your grasp as your goal. I promise you, nothing is impossible, if you put your whole heart into it.
Gesturing for Miley to take the mint condition book, Spike mischievously grinned at the doe-eyed woman when she realized that he was the original creator of Paper Warriors. It was clear she only knew his work from the animated series, which meant she knew of the first live action movie that was coming. Scheduled to premiere at the end of this year. “Tell Kyle this hasn’t gotten to stores yet and that I hope he enjoys being the first one to read it, aside from my editor.” Miley profusely nodded, before attempting to walk away. “Oh and one more thing.” She turned back to look at the famous comic artist and writer. “You’re both free to see me after this flight to take pictures. I have time.”
The flight attendant’s gentle soul was quick to blush, kind of like pink champagne. Once he did a lazy wave goodbye, he glimpsed at his watch. It was almost time. In reality, he didn’t actually have time for a quick meet & greet but who would he be if he denied a child a chance to meet someone they looked up to? He’d be a jackass, that’s what he’d be.
Spike knew he should’ve listened to his bros, like Nate, Max, or Rico. He should’ve booked his flight a week ago, but of course, Spike being Spike forgot. He booked his flight yesterday, at the last minute, and a travel agent was able to squeeze him in on a later flight. The cocktail party was at 8 PM, EST. The airport was around a ten minute drive away from the hotel. He had to rent a car. He had to get his room keys. He had to drop off his bags and… he was landing around 7:25 PM. Still, there was a silver lining. He made two people smile on this flight today.
I’ll be fiiiiiine. Nothing wrong with being fashionably late. He would get there when he got there. If anything, he had more time to play out what he would say and how he would say it when he saw her.
Yes, when he sees her.
He was going to see her.
Oh my god, he was going to see her...
(cue panic)
Hey guys, I just wanted to highlight a rule Angie has in the OOC, in the About Characters section so you aren’t wasting your time.
A maximum of two character per player, which have to be from different genders.
Spike Todd Langley, 228B22; Adult FC: Ryan Phillippe
Revamping my boy so he transfers to PB when he was younger
Revamping my boy so he transfers to PB when he was younger
Bro. The moment I decide hey maybe I should take a break because my job is killing me...
I will be in the shadows lurking, debating my decision... but I see family... temptation is there.
I will be in the shadows lurking, debating my decision... but I see family... temptation is there.
In the Grimm music room, Kylee sat at the grand piano, gliding her hand on the keys, wondering why music was so important to her father when he couldn’t play an instrument. Her late mother, Prudence, didn’t know how to play and neither did her step mom. The only two that could play anything in this room were her and her sister.
Even then, these instruments had been with her and her family before she could even play, back during her young adolescence days in Boston. She was curious… Was there someone in her father’s past that made him go so out of his way to invest in the finest of instruments and take them wherever he went? A sister that he doesn’t want to talk about? A mother? How about a father? Did he have brothers? Why didn’t her father talk about his family?
Sighing to herself, knowing well enough her siblings and her father kept their secrets, Kylee placed her fingers on the keyboard and started playing Can’t Help Falling In Love, by Elvis Presley. She didn’t know why but she was drawn to this song, as it repeatedly entered her dreams. The song was sweet and sentimental, but not her usual speed. She didn’t even listen to Elvis much nor did she connect with this song because she didn’t know what it meant to be in love.
She dated Pierce when she was an underclassmen in highschool but that was not the love this song made her feel. He was her first love, but it was childish, naive, and innocent. When she let her fingers play, as if she were possessed, she could feel something more profound. Something more eternal. A love that would never die.
Dazing in and out of reality, Kylee fought the sleep in her eyes. Ever since she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to sleep which was unlike her. Sure, not getting into her dream college was distressing but it wasn’t detrimental to her life. It only got worse when she met that stupid reporter. There was no sound reason why she shouldn’t be able to sleep -- unless she was completely disconnected from her own depression and anxiety, but how was that possible? She felt fine, just tired.
Returning back to the present, Kylee found the keys moving on their own accord without her help. She looked at her surroundings and realized the room was completely empty, yet unnaturally cold. Standing up and stepping away, she watched the piano perform on its own, seeing nothing on the piano bench that she had left.
Was she asleep?
The feeling of gentle yet icy hands covered her eyes and a sound she hadn’t heard for a few years whispered into her ears, “Guess who…”
“Mom?” Confused, Kylee turned her body as the small ghost behind her released her daughter’s face and took a step back, serenely smiling. “Is that you? Are you really here?”
“Yeah, weird, huh?” Prudence, who was far too young looking to be a mother of four, gleamed at her youngest, as she looked at the piano with sadness in her eyes. “Isn’t this song absolutely lovely?”
“I guess, I just don’t understand how it’s being played on its own…”
“You can’t see…?”
“See what?”
“... oh, nothing, sweetie.” Prudence frowned, curious why the other ghost was hiding their image. Still, she didn’t know how long this dark magic would last and there were a few people she needed to talk to before she went back to her hole in the ground.
Irritated, Prue turned on her heel, seeking out Kylee’s brothers. “I need to give those two a piece of my mind.” When Kylee noticed her mother leaving, she hurriedly followed. The moment the two ladies left the music room, the music stopped.
“Ken and Link?” Ky rushed to Prue, who was a woman on a mission. “Mom, they’re not in town.”
Stopping in her tracks, disappointed, Prue crossed her arms and nervously bit her lip, “Is that so?”
Not knowing how long this dream was going to last, Kylee decided to change the subject, seeking answers to unanswered questions, “Mom, I know this is… random… but, why’d you do it? Why’d you leave me? I know, I know what you did.”
Fixedly staring at the floor, Prue, ashamed and distraught, stammered, “I… I wish I could tell you.”
“Why can’t you?” Kylee demanded, getting increasingly upset. Moving forward, through her mom, she turned around so that they were facing each other. Kylee’s once warm and tender eyes turned distant and irked. Why couldn’t her dead mom’s ghost tell her? Both in death and life, Prue chose to be silent. A coward.
“I promised…” Involuntarily, Prudence faded away, as if her weak spirit could not currently fight the negative forces of the house to keep herself visible in Kylee’s eyes.
“Mom? MOM!” Frantically, Kylee searched the lobby for the ghost she had a full conversation with, only to hear a chuckle and a handsome boy, dressed in a man blouse and black pants, sitting on the large stairs that led to the bedrooms.
“Even I can tell she’s not your real mom, Bunny.” Pierce Mercer leaned back, examining the manor he had frequented many times before. “Yeah, this place is still creepy as hell.”
Instead of joy, Kylee found herself seeing the bloody boy she held onto on his dying day. Bullet holes and all. Shaking her head, the blood and wounds disappeared and he was back to the boy she had loved freshmen and sophomore year. Still, her ptsd caused her to take a step back in fear, “I-I-I-I…”
“What is it, Ky? Did you see something bad again?” The charming singer stood up, slowly approaching her, “What did I tell you about sticking your nose in other people’s businesses?”
“You never told me that…”
“Maybe I should’ve.” Pierce callously retorted.
This was not the Pierce she knew and loved. He sounded spiteful. He sounded malicious. He sounded different,
This was not Pierce.
This spirit… he was dark and could distort her memory. This spirit… had a Cheshire grin and an unnerving aura. This spirit… felt like hate.
Could the house itself conjure images? That’s something the movies would do.
As he reached to grab her, Kylee yelped and bolted to the front door. Running with reckless abandon, she left the Grimm estate, shivering, disoriented, and uneasy. She was going so fast she didn’t even notice the person walking toward her on the sidewalk. Coming in like a wrecking ball, Kylee crashed into that stupid reporter.
Tumbling to the floor, a weight pressed against his chest; Wesley groaned. He looked down to see what collided with him and was shocked to see the visage of one Kylee Grimm. “Talk about when worlds collide…” He quipped as he slid out from beneath the brown haired beauty and helped her to her feet.
Wes looked down to his side and pulled his camera to eye level to see if it had been damaged in the fall. Luckily it hadn’t and he let out a great sigh of relief. He had held that camera since he was a child, one of the few things he got from his deadbeat dad. It’s what inspired him to truly become the intrepid adventurer/reporter that he was born to be.
“You ok?” Wes asked gently. “Did something happen?”
Shit. Out of all the people she could have ran into, she crashed into this idiot. Silently, Kylee observed him handle his camera to make sure it was okay, before he brought his attention to her.
She almost broke his camera…
“I, um, there’s… this is going to make me sound insane.” Kylee stammered. For someone who enjoyed talking, she found it hard to find the words to explain what she saw, anxious of being judged by the man. Why did she even care what he thought? “I’m sorry for running into it.” Her chocolate coated eyes went to his camera before meeting his dark yet kind gaze once more. “And you. Sorry for running into you.”
She stepped back, bringing distance between them, uncertain about if this was worth mentioning to him or if she should call Roddy. She wondered if Mei or Jill would listen but she found herself unable to convince herself that they would. Kylee didn’t trust easily and it was likely because of all the trauma her siblings put her through. Still shaken from what she saw, she looked at Wes like a little girl would look at someone when they’ve had a bad nightmare but expected the worst reaction from the person they were talking to.
“Whatever you saw, it can’t be any more insane than what I think I just saw.”
Wes was having a strange evening of his own. He was out and about, trying to stir up a story when he found himself outside of Edenridge High. As the clock struck midnight on his wrist, a sudden cold crept up his spine like a snake and then flooded through his body. Then the next thing he knew, the man of logic that he was, Wesley was staring at a cheerleader on the steps. The thing was, it wasn’t just any cheerleader, it was the cheerleader, the one of legend; Allison Davies.
Like any good reporter, Wes snapped a photo and took off running like he was back on the track team. He didn’t think of where he’d end up, which was how he ended up outside the grandiose Grimm estate; talk about spooky.
“I doubt that…” Kylee looked over her shoulder, back to her family’s estate. Peering from an upstairs window was something or someone… maybe Prudence, maybe Not-Pierce, or maybe someone else. “This is real, right?” She turned back, still in disbelief that she was awake. “You’re not like… I don’t know, entering my dreams or something? I already saw a piano playing music and my dead mother… or not mother. I don’t know. I ran into my ex but I really don’t think he’s my ex because if he was haunting me the last place he’d visit is my house. He hated it. I think my house is fucking with me. I swear to god I didn’t do any drugs.”
What the fuck?
Wes thought he was tripping balls when he saw Allison and now Kylee was confirming that she had seen something too? What was going on? Was this it? The rapture? The world's end? Had the dead risen to take control of the Earth once more? Wesley was a man of logic, a man of science but even he couldn’t explain this.
He looked up at the window where Kylee herself had just cast her eye and could see a figure there. The reporter had done his research, as he often did with people he knew and the woman in the window was supposed to be very long dead. This all but confirmed that what he had seen back at Edenridge High was not a trick of the mind or some form of hallucination; the truth of the matter was that hell was empty and all the devils were here again.
“I told you during our first interview that I didn’t believe in ghosts. Well to quote the movies, I think we best start believing in ghost stories Miss Grimm, I think we’re in one.”
Usually, Kylee was all about curious cases, even supernatural stories, myths, and legends. They were entertaining to explore and it made her feel like she was part of Scooby-Doo! However, at this moment, the logical side of her brain was in full skepticism, preventing her from completely diving in. “Heh… yeah, okay. I’m totally dreaming right now.”
Pulling out her phone from her back pant’s pocket, she noticed a voicemail from Roddy and a text message asking if she was okay. “I’m going to go…” She looked at Wes, wondering if it was actually a good idea to be alone if this was indeed a nightmare.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, Kylee. If what we both saw is real, I doubt it’s just our own sordid histories that have come back to haunt us.” Wes dubiously put a hand on her shoulder. “Edenridge is a town of psychos, killers and maniacs. I don’t think you being by yourself is good idea right now.”
Stopping before she got ahead, Kylee looked at Wes’ hand on her shoulder then up at him. It seemed he wasn’t going to let her get too far. Dramatically sighing to herself, she stood in place and awkwardly listened to the voicemail next to Mr. Reporter.
“Ky, some weird shit is happening. There's a dude with an axe and black smoke and I feel like I’m in some kind of shitty horror movie…anyway; there’s been an accident, I’m ok but I’m kind of stranded outside Camp Eden. Be careful wherever you are! Something isn’t right out there tonight.”
Fuck.
Seems she and Wes might be spending more time together than she’d hoped. “On second thought, can you take me to Camp Eden?” The young girl was now facing Wes with desperate need. Simultaneously, Kylee texted Roddy ‘omw’ before giving Wesley puppy eyes, “Pleaseeeeeeee, my friend needs me.”
Wesley looked at the girl and ran a hand through his curly hair. He could just go back to his hotel and let all this blow over. What skin did he have in this game? He was a Pinehurst guy but he had all but entrenched himself into the Edenridge world. For the lack of a better term, right now this shit hole was Wes’s home and Kylee was the closest thing he actually had to a friend. Fuck; was he actually considering this? Fuck was he actually going to do this?
Damnit.
“My car is just around the block, let’s go help your friend.”
Even then, these instruments had been with her and her family before she could even play, back during her young adolescence days in Boston. She was curious… Was there someone in her father’s past that made him go so out of his way to invest in the finest of instruments and take them wherever he went? A sister that he doesn’t want to talk about? A mother? How about a father? Did he have brothers? Why didn’t her father talk about his family?
Sighing to herself, knowing well enough her siblings and her father kept their secrets, Kylee placed her fingers on the keyboard and started playing Can’t Help Falling In Love, by Elvis Presley. She didn’t know why but she was drawn to this song, as it repeatedly entered her dreams. The song was sweet and sentimental, but not her usual speed. She didn’t even listen to Elvis much nor did she connect with this song because she didn’t know what it meant to be in love.
She dated Pierce when she was an underclassmen in highschool but that was not the love this song made her feel. He was her first love, but it was childish, naive, and innocent. When she let her fingers play, as if she were possessed, she could feel something more profound. Something more eternal. A love that would never die.
Dazing in and out of reality, Kylee fought the sleep in her eyes. Ever since she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to sleep which was unlike her. Sure, not getting into her dream college was distressing but it wasn’t detrimental to her life. It only got worse when she met that stupid reporter. There was no sound reason why she shouldn’t be able to sleep -- unless she was completely disconnected from her own depression and anxiety, but how was that possible? She felt fine, just tired.
Returning back to the present, Kylee found the keys moving on their own accord without her help. She looked at her surroundings and realized the room was completely empty, yet unnaturally cold. Standing up and stepping away, she watched the piano perform on its own, seeing nothing on the piano bench that she had left.
Was she asleep?
The feeling of gentle yet icy hands covered her eyes and a sound she hadn’t heard for a few years whispered into her ears, “Guess who…”
“Mom?” Confused, Kylee turned her body as the small ghost behind her released her daughter’s face and took a step back, serenely smiling. “Is that you? Are you really here?”
“Yeah, weird, huh?” Prudence, who was far too young looking to be a mother of four, gleamed at her youngest, as she looked at the piano with sadness in her eyes. “Isn’t this song absolutely lovely?”
“I guess, I just don’t understand how it’s being played on its own…”
“You can’t see…?”
“See what?”
“... oh, nothing, sweetie.” Prudence frowned, curious why the other ghost was hiding their image. Still, she didn’t know how long this dark magic would last and there were a few people she needed to talk to before she went back to her hole in the ground.
Irritated, Prue turned on her heel, seeking out Kylee’s brothers. “I need to give those two a piece of my mind.” When Kylee noticed her mother leaving, she hurriedly followed. The moment the two ladies left the music room, the music stopped.
“Ken and Link?” Ky rushed to Prue, who was a woman on a mission. “Mom, they’re not in town.”
Stopping in her tracks, disappointed, Prue crossed her arms and nervously bit her lip, “Is that so?”
Not knowing how long this dream was going to last, Kylee decided to change the subject, seeking answers to unanswered questions, “Mom, I know this is… random… but, why’d you do it? Why’d you leave me? I know, I know what you did.”
Fixedly staring at the floor, Prue, ashamed and distraught, stammered, “I… I wish I could tell you.”
“Why can’t you?” Kylee demanded, getting increasingly upset. Moving forward, through her mom, she turned around so that they were facing each other. Kylee’s once warm and tender eyes turned distant and irked. Why couldn’t her dead mom’s ghost tell her? Both in death and life, Prue chose to be silent. A coward.
“I promised…” Involuntarily, Prudence faded away, as if her weak spirit could not currently fight the negative forces of the house to keep herself visible in Kylee’s eyes.
“Mom? MOM!” Frantically, Kylee searched the lobby for the ghost she had a full conversation with, only to hear a chuckle and a handsome boy, dressed in a man blouse and black pants, sitting on the large stairs that led to the bedrooms.
“Even I can tell she’s not your real mom, Bunny.” Pierce Mercer leaned back, examining the manor he had frequented many times before. “Yeah, this place is still creepy as hell.”
Instead of joy, Kylee found herself seeing the bloody boy she held onto on his dying day. Bullet holes and all. Shaking her head, the blood and wounds disappeared and he was back to the boy she had loved freshmen and sophomore year. Still, her ptsd caused her to take a step back in fear, “I-I-I-I…”
“What is it, Ky? Did you see something bad again?” The charming singer stood up, slowly approaching her, “What did I tell you about sticking your nose in other people’s businesses?”
“You never told me that…”
“Maybe I should’ve.” Pierce callously retorted.
This was not the Pierce she knew and loved. He sounded spiteful. He sounded malicious. He sounded different,
This was not Pierce.
This spirit… he was dark and could distort her memory. This spirit… had a Cheshire grin and an unnerving aura. This spirit… felt like hate.
Could the house itself conjure images? That’s something the movies would do.
As he reached to grab her, Kylee yelped and bolted to the front door. Running with reckless abandon, she left the Grimm estate, shivering, disoriented, and uneasy. She was going so fast she didn’t even notice the person walking toward her on the sidewalk. Coming in like a wrecking ball, Kylee crashed into that stupid reporter.
Tumbling to the floor, a weight pressed against his chest; Wesley groaned. He looked down to see what collided with him and was shocked to see the visage of one Kylee Grimm. “Talk about when worlds collide…” He quipped as he slid out from beneath the brown haired beauty and helped her to her feet.
Wes looked down to his side and pulled his camera to eye level to see if it had been damaged in the fall. Luckily it hadn’t and he let out a great sigh of relief. He had held that camera since he was a child, one of the few things he got from his deadbeat dad. It’s what inspired him to truly become the intrepid adventurer/reporter that he was born to be.
“You ok?” Wes asked gently. “Did something happen?”
Shit. Out of all the people she could have ran into, she crashed into this idiot. Silently, Kylee observed him handle his camera to make sure it was okay, before he brought his attention to her.
She almost broke his camera…
“I, um, there’s… this is going to make me sound insane.” Kylee stammered. For someone who enjoyed talking, she found it hard to find the words to explain what she saw, anxious of being judged by the man. Why did she even care what he thought? “I’m sorry for running into it.” Her chocolate coated eyes went to his camera before meeting his dark yet kind gaze once more. “And you. Sorry for running into you.”
She stepped back, bringing distance between them, uncertain about if this was worth mentioning to him or if she should call Roddy. She wondered if Mei or Jill would listen but she found herself unable to convince herself that they would. Kylee didn’t trust easily and it was likely because of all the trauma her siblings put her through. Still shaken from what she saw, she looked at Wes like a little girl would look at someone when they’ve had a bad nightmare but expected the worst reaction from the person they were talking to.
“Whatever you saw, it can’t be any more insane than what I think I just saw.”
Wes was having a strange evening of his own. He was out and about, trying to stir up a story when he found himself outside of Edenridge High. As the clock struck midnight on his wrist, a sudden cold crept up his spine like a snake and then flooded through his body. Then the next thing he knew, the man of logic that he was, Wesley was staring at a cheerleader on the steps. The thing was, it wasn’t just any cheerleader, it was the cheerleader, the one of legend; Allison Davies.
Like any good reporter, Wes snapped a photo and took off running like he was back on the track team. He didn’t think of where he’d end up, which was how he ended up outside the grandiose Grimm estate; talk about spooky.
“I doubt that…” Kylee looked over her shoulder, back to her family’s estate. Peering from an upstairs window was something or someone… maybe Prudence, maybe Not-Pierce, or maybe someone else. “This is real, right?” She turned back, still in disbelief that she was awake. “You’re not like… I don’t know, entering my dreams or something? I already saw a piano playing music and my dead mother… or not mother. I don’t know. I ran into my ex but I really don’t think he’s my ex because if he was haunting me the last place he’d visit is my house. He hated it. I think my house is fucking with me. I swear to god I didn’t do any drugs.”
What the fuck?
Wes thought he was tripping balls when he saw Allison and now Kylee was confirming that she had seen something too? What was going on? Was this it? The rapture? The world's end? Had the dead risen to take control of the Earth once more? Wesley was a man of logic, a man of science but even he couldn’t explain this.
He looked up at the window where Kylee herself had just cast her eye and could see a figure there. The reporter had done his research, as he often did with people he knew and the woman in the window was supposed to be very long dead. This all but confirmed that what he had seen back at Edenridge High was not a trick of the mind or some form of hallucination; the truth of the matter was that hell was empty and all the devils were here again.
“I told you during our first interview that I didn’t believe in ghosts. Well to quote the movies, I think we best start believing in ghost stories Miss Grimm, I think we’re in one.”
Usually, Kylee was all about curious cases, even supernatural stories, myths, and legends. They were entertaining to explore and it made her feel like she was part of Scooby-Doo! However, at this moment, the logical side of her brain was in full skepticism, preventing her from completely diving in. “Heh… yeah, okay. I’m totally dreaming right now.”
Pulling out her phone from her back pant’s pocket, she noticed a voicemail from Roddy and a text message asking if she was okay. “I’m going to go…” She looked at Wes, wondering if it was actually a good idea to be alone if this was indeed a nightmare.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, Kylee. If what we both saw is real, I doubt it’s just our own sordid histories that have come back to haunt us.” Wes dubiously put a hand on her shoulder. “Edenridge is a town of psychos, killers and maniacs. I don’t think you being by yourself is good idea right now.”
Stopping before she got ahead, Kylee looked at Wes’ hand on her shoulder then up at him. It seemed he wasn’t going to let her get too far. Dramatically sighing to herself, she stood in place and awkwardly listened to the voicemail next to Mr. Reporter.
“Ky, some weird shit is happening. There's a dude with an axe and black smoke and I feel like I’m in some kind of shitty horror movie…anyway; there’s been an accident, I’m ok but I’m kind of stranded outside Camp Eden. Be careful wherever you are! Something isn’t right out there tonight.”
Fuck.
Seems she and Wes might be spending more time together than she’d hoped. “On second thought, can you take me to Camp Eden?” The young girl was now facing Wes with desperate need. Simultaneously, Kylee texted Roddy ‘omw’ before giving Wesley puppy eyes, “Pleaseeeeeeee, my friend needs me.”
Wesley looked at the girl and ran a hand through his curly hair. He could just go back to his hotel and let all this blow over. What skin did he have in this game? He was a Pinehurst guy but he had all but entrenched himself into the Edenridge world. For the lack of a better term, right now this shit hole was Wes’s home and Kylee was the closest thing he actually had to a friend. Fuck; was he actually considering this? Fuck was he actually going to do this?
Damnit.
“My car is just around the block, let’s go help your friend.”
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