A Peculiar Time in 1944 - A Millard Fanfic (Miss Peregrine's Home) #wattys2020

Chapter 79

"It seemed the Acre had been designed to drive those trapped inside it mad." {Jacob Portman, pg 121 book 3}

Seven Stages of Grief: Stage Four – Bargaining, seeking in vain for a way out

Aurora didn't mean to yell at Emma, she was just at the end of her patience. Who knew what they'd done to Millard and the others already? Who knew what horror had awaited them when the wights finally got them to the prison Horace had drawn from his vision? She couldn't stand that they hadn't found the others yet, they hadn't been that far behind and now it felt like she hadn't seen her friends or Millard in an eternity.

There was a sudden clatter that shook Aurora from her thoughts and she noticed that she had no idea where she now was. "There's more evil in peculiardom than merely your hated wights" Sharon's words echoed in her head and she shivered involuntarily. It suddenly felt like there were eyes watching her from every direction and she felt herself start to panic.

She quickly found an old red and black flannel draped over a metal garbage can and wrapped it around her waist, tying the arms together in a knot. Further down the alley there was a rope strung from one window to another, acting as a clothesline. The cleanest thing she saw was a brown button up shirt so she took it. She slid her arms inside, the material somewhat scratchy but she dealt with it. She didn't bother to button it shut, letting her denim overalls show underneath. Her hair still covered most of her face, but she still felt like she would be too easily recognized. Most of the people's faces here were covered with dirt and grime but for the sake of her health Aurora refused to wipe any of that on her face. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Millard's cap. She looked at it for a moment as sadness gripped her heart in a tight fist. Then she fixed the hat on her head, the brim just casting enough of a shadow across her features to make her look like someone who'd been living in this loop all their life, satisfied with her new look she walked on.

She passed several people who all ignored her, her new disguise working perfectly. As she wove through the alleys she noticed some were more populated and others were practically deserted. She knew peculiars would never have let themselves live in such a state, these people were normals like the ones on Cairnholm that the crueler children would play 'Raid the Village' on. If she wanted to get any information on the others she'd need to find the peculiar heart of the loop. She stuck to the alleys that were most crowded with people, knowing those would be the alleys closest to the center of Devil's Acre, and the poor people's best chance at getting scraps to eat.

When she did find the heart she discovered it was only ten or twenty blocks wide, she squeezed through a gap in a wooden fence and entered a much cleaner alley which let out at the first proper street she'd seen. There was a fancy looking sign that read Louche Lane, and in smaller writing beneath it Piracy discouraged. She immediately noticed the difference here, on the fringes of the loop one could expect a murder at every turn but Louche Lane looked like a haven of civil order. The street was lined with neat little shops with signs and display windows. Apartments stacked on their upper floors without a caved roof or broken pane of glass in sight, There were people on the sidewalks as well, and they weren't dressed in rags and their faces were clean unlike the people who lived outside the peculiar heart. Aurora thought it looked quaint, even charming. Then a preteen boy came rushing down the street shouting, "Two for one! Today only! No reasonable offer refused" he called as he waved cards in the air.

Aurora had heard of this, peculiars who sold their talents to those who could afford it. It was outlawed throughout peculiardom and for good reason. One's peculiarity is a sacred gift, to sell it cheapens what is most special about their kind. Selling yourself erodes your moral compass, pretty soon your dipping into the wrong side of the gray area without knowing it, doing things you'd never do if you weren't being paid to do them. But she figured she could use it to her advantage. She leaned against a lamppost and looked at the boy from under her cap, he noticed her immediately as any salesman would.