Part 1

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Chapter 1

Third Person

Why her?

Why was Lucy the one to always find ("fall into" are the more appropriate words) the holes?

And, oh so lucky Lucy had fallen into a hole that happened to contain water. Deep water.

Lucy flailed her arms madly in hope of grabbing something sturdy, or at least keep her head above the water. Soon, she stopped struggling to stable herself in the water. Good thing she knew how to swim.

Though she couldn't see much in the darkness, she could make out sounds of the fading echos of the splashing water, and could confirm a close side she could swim to. The air was freezing upon leaving the water, and the worst was her soaked coat. With a sigh, she took off her soaking wet coat and backpack to find her rapier missing. Turning on her penlight, she frantically searched for it. And she found it, but she wasn't thrilled about its location.

Under the water. She cursed under her breath.

Diving back into the water, it felt like thousands of needles were pricking her skin, felling so cold. Getting to the sword wasn't a problem, until she tried to bring it to the surface. Something had a tight hold of it. Using all of her strength, she manged to pull it free. Though it scared her nearly to death when something grabbed her ankle. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, and as she looked down, she saw what had her; a skeleton. She nearly screamed. Unsheathing her blade, she cut the arm off, as it immediately released her leg.

Air.

She couldn't hold her breath much longer. Frantically, she rushed to the the surface, though she felt she wouldn't make it. The water was deeper than she expected. One last reach, and she still wouldn't make it. Her vision was going dark. She reached with what little strength she had left.

A hand met contact with her own and it pulled her out of the water, bringing her to dry land.

Lucy felt almost dead...

Words were spoken, though she couldn't make them out. The voice owner seemed unknown to her. She started to feel repeated pressure on her chest. She started coughing, water erupting from her mouth, she took in big gulps of air, Life returning to her.

She felt someone sit her up and wrap something around her.

Lucy opened her eyes to see who saved her:

A woman, who looked to be in her late teens-early twenties. She must have been about Lockwood's height at least. She had chocolate brown hair and big green eyes, framed by bigger purple glasses. Her bangs, however, covered her left eye. She wore a white, baggy, men's button-up shirt (Lockwood likes those types of shirts) and black pants with matching boots. Her hair must have gone down to her tailbone. However, at the moment, it was up in a messy bun. A silver chain hung around her neck, with the mane piece being the gold, heart shaped locket that hung from it. She turned her light on low and looked to Lucy.

"Are you alright miss?" She asked, with a prominent American accent. For a girl, she also had a deep voice.

Unable to say much, Lucy nodded her head. This mysterious woman looked to her rapier.

"And you are an agent? What's your agency?" She asked, a gloved hand gesturing to the sword.

Lucy cleared her throat, "Lockwood & Co." That came out scratchier than she thought. This woman nodded her head upon learning this new knowledge.

"And you?" Lucy croaked out.

"Me? I don't belong to a specific agency." She leaned on a wall, searching in her bag for something. "I'm not a freelancing agent ether."

Then what are you?

"In fact," She continued, "I haven't been here in six years! So- wait, what agency are you from?"

"Lockwood & Co." Lucy replied, slightly worried.

"And your leader is...?" She pressed.

"Lockwood."

"No, they're full name?"

"Anthony J. Lockwood..." Lucy became extremely worried as to why she needed this information. "Why?"

Before, she could get an answer, they heard footsteps approaching them. The stranger's sword was out, glinting in the light's reflection. And she reminded Lucy much of Lockwood. Her stance, they way she fixed her eyes to the darkness, waiting for something to come. Maybe they had known each other?

The way she treated the situation seemed to mirror how any other agent would; knowing, waiting, yet showing no sighn of fear or panic. Calm while waiting for something to come, life facing what has come to bring death.

Peril, danger, and mystery fit her well.

The footsteps suddenly stopped, as if anticipating weather to go further.

"Who's there?" Her voice was stern, loud and sudden. "Show yourself."

It took a moment, but finally, it was see as who was there. None other than the famous Anthony Lockwood. At once he looked saw this mystery woman (who was standing in front of Lucy now) seemingly knowing who she was. She eased.

His eyes lit up, remembering who this woman was.

"Chris?" He seemed almost relived to find her. She took off her glasses, rubbing them on the baggiest part of her shirt, then put them back on.

"I have a right to ask you why your here." She said. Her expression softened.

"I'm looking for someone. Lucy Carlyle is her name, she's one of my best agents."

"One of your only agents, I'm guessing?"

"... Yes, but at least I have a stable job." He seemed too tease.

"My job is stable!" This Chris person defended, "It just has me moving very often. Unstable is not having a reliable job career and I've had this job for over 12 years now."

"You're that old?"

Chris glared at him. "So, what does Miss Carlyle look like?" You could almost see his ears perk up like a cat, ready to catch it's prey.

"Right. Well, she's about 5'6 with chestnut, short hair. She has fair-ish skin and big, beautiful, gold eyes. She is a rather beautiful girl. Typically, she wares mostly dark colors.-" He stopped for a moment when Chris held her hand up.

"I think I might have found who you're looking for." She moved away from Lucy and held her hand out to help pull her up.

"Lucy? Why didn't you say anything? And why are you wet?" Lucy didn't answer, she was too cold to.

"That can be explained later, for now, let's just get out of here." Chris suggested.

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