OC snippets

Polybuis; In which a change cabinet does not store change.

As Leslie came to stand beside the woman with the screwdriver, Beth stood to her full height again. She barely came up to Leslie's shoulder, only her unruly caramel bangs closed the gap. She crossed her arms again, and sighed. Leslie did not like where this was going. Beth hadn't even opened the change cabinet yet and she was getting the 'I'm disappointed in you' monologue. From a stranger no less! Leslie really didn't want to cry at work today, but if that's what it came down to at least nobody else was there to see it—

"I want you to get the bat from behind the prize counter and wait outside the door to this room until you hear my signal, okay?"

..What? What the fuck?? Well that certainly wasn't where she thought this was going.

"Uh. Wh—.. I—.. Why? Ex-Exactly?" She stammered, her eyes darting from Beth to the arcade machine to anything remotely sharp in their general vicinity. Her heart had seemed to take up the hobby of slamming itself against her ribcage within the last 30 seconds, and she could feel the inside of her palms becoming slick again. This was not good. This was definitely really not good.

"Do you want to live?"

Oh ok she was going to get murdered by this lady. That tracked, actually.

"..Yes..?" Leslie's mouth was dry as she spoke.

"Then you'll do as I say." Beth stretched, her knuckles making a series of popping noises as she held her joined hands aloft. She shot Leslie a look that said 'Go' as she did so, which prompted the poor girl to immediately dart out of the room, kicking up dust bunnies as she went.

Now that she was gone, one of two things was bound to be happening. Either the girl was doing as she was told.. or she was calling the police. Didn't matter which one in the end. Something was going to be dead by the end of this, regardless of Leslie's input. Beth had learned the cost of safety all too well to think otherwise.

She frowned grimly at the change cabinet now that she was alone again. Something paranormal was inside it, that much was clear. It reeked of blood and meat, and a thin pink liquid oozed from the gaps where the panel meant for keeping the coins inside met the rest of the machine. Flies danced around the machine, a few foolish enough to eat from the gross rotten substance laid dead in the pooling puddle of filth at Beth's feet. The stuff reeked like death, cooked slightly at the edges by the summer heat.

Beth really, really didn't want to open it.

In some sick, twisted way, she was glad. This was exactly what she'd been looking for. Concrete proof that Leslie and whatever had found a way to curse her family operated in 10 year leaps. Proof that this thing wanted the last Localine child. Proof that Beth could still be saved. If she played her cards right, she could walk out of this with the best hope she'd had of saving her own life since she was 15 years old.

If she played her cards wrong however, which she might've just done due to her tiredness robbing her ability to be subtle, it meant everything could come crashing down. What if Leslie was calling the police? What would Beth say to them? 'Sorry, officer. I was breaking into this private area of a building I do not work at with a minor so that I could destroy a bleeding arcade machine and save myself from being cursed forever'? Jesus. She really hoped Leslie wasn't calling the cops.

Swallowing her fear, Beth took in a long drag of sour air. In, and out. She could do this. It was going to be okay. She would be fine. Leslie would be fine. Probably.

She crouched again, making sure to avoid the film gathered near her sneakers, and with shaking hands began the process of removing the panel. As she loosened each bolt, she couldn't help but notice the crusted brown substance clinging to the grooves of the screws. The smell of iron continued to spill from the widening gap.