Because I Could Not Stop For Death | Lockwood & Co.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

— 𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜 — 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖙

𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃, 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 bringing with it frost.

It bit at Eden's cheeks as she ascended the ladder into the open, black wasteland above the hatch. Other-light burned from below, but otherwise offered no way of seeing deeper into the reaches of the attic.

As soon as Eden stepped foot into the attic, she grunted, hunching over at the waist. "Oh, God," she muttered, the feeling in her spine beginning to constrict her chest and stomach. She struggled to breathe, swallowing down the unease that was spreading through her body. "Oh, my God."

Light was suddenly lit in the room. Eden turned her head as she straightened to her full height with great effort, finding that Anthony had lit a lantern. The dim, soft lighting filled the space and Eden realized exactly where they were.

An attic.

The same attic she had sketched.

"Well," George said with a nod, "looks like Eden's Ability was right again."

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, and it's . . . it's doing something right now," she started, voice hoarse. "Anyone else feel that?"

Anthony hummed in agreement. "Not as strong as you, though," he voiced. He turned to Eden, eyes soft with concern. "Are you all right?"

She swallowed harshly. Nodded, then released a breath.

Quietly, the three got to work. Their supplies were scarce—George's bags were still below, by the hordes of ghosts at the bottom of the ladder, and between the three, their chains, salt, and filings had been used. Anthony was the only one who had suitable supplies left, including silver-nets to contain the Source, and they all had magnesium flares. Eden also had the ghost-jar, and as she took the pack off her back and set it down, the face in the yellow-green plasm looked grim.

"You oughtn't to be up here . . . " it said, voice low and grave. "Even I'm nervous, and I'm already dead."

"Like we've got a choice," Eden muttered, her mouth filling with something metallic tasting. She drew her sword and cut a few cobwebs down. "You see anything, let me know."

"You've got to be careful," the skull suddenly warned. "You're susceptible to more than they are."

Eden hummed. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me."

"Well, if you're waiting for me to admit it, don't hold your breath," it grumbled. "Actually, maybe you should."

"If I died, who would you talk to?"

That seemed to shut the skull up. Eden looked toward the window, where Anthony was standing. It was crusted over with dust and ice. "We're overlooking the street," he informed them after he'd wiped some away. "I can see ghost-lamps far below." He turned back to Eden and George. "Okay. The Source must be here somewhere. We can all feel it, and Eden's drawing was of this very attic. Go cautiously, and let's get this done."