Dirk Gently and The Ghosts of Time

The Beast Below

TW; Gore, who am I kidding this is Dirk Gently, this is nothing compared to what Bart does.

Ok so Author's note at the beginning. This is all VERY VERY important. No matter how unimportant it seems you need to promise me you'll read it. Because (say it with me) EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED.

This fanfic is my baby. I didn't expect it to be when I first started writing it. Hell, I thought this was going to be a one shot book but nope. And damn it has quickly taken over my thoughts. It's all I can think about anymore. The narrative is huge, everything connects in a way I don't think I've seen done other than in the show. So buckle up, this is going to be a wild ride full of interconnected-ness, coincidences, and the rarer, sexier, coinky-dinks!

I first wrote this chapter 2 weeks as a short story for my school newspaper's Halloween issue. I wrote it after I had just finished the show. It was NEVER meant to be a Dirk Gently story. I put in 1 reference and planned to put in an authors note saying "if you understand why I wrote the monster's name as "Bibbit", please come find me. I want to be your best friend." The last name of one of the characters was meant to be a cheesy Halloween thing but now it connects with DGHDA.

Tonight I was struggling to understand how everything would connect in the end so I sat down and wrote down everything I thought I knew about the case. Spoiler alert, I knew nothing. I was basically pulling random stuff out of my ass expecting it to fit together in the end, but that's not how this show works. If you're going to do it, you have to do it right. You need to know everything.

So while writing down everything I thought I knew I added some random ideas and then I had an epiphany, (I won't say it here because it gives things away) and realized it connected with my short story in a scary good way. Everything fits so perfectly it was terrifying how my subconscious mind came up with this.

So without further ado, I present: The Beast Below.

Annie stood in a line with nine other girls beside her, facing an odd-looking young woman who looked as if she were from another century. Dressed in all black with a mid-length ruffled hobble skirt and a laced bodice. The only modern thing about her was her luxurious raven waves with victory rolls atop her head.

"As you know, the government has ordered twenty children to be randomly selected and put in a house divided into two. This is your side. You will be living here for as long as the experiment continues. I am headmistress Lillian Black, you do as I say and follow the rules. Understood?" Her ghostly pale face stared at them, black lips pursed. Waiting for them to show some sign of understanding.

They all nodded in fear. "Good. The rules are as follows," She walked back and forth, lightly slapping a ruler in her hand to warn them. "Number one. Curfew is at 7 pm sharp. I expect you to all be in your hammocks in the attic by then. There will be no leaving your room under any circumstances. Number two. This is your side of the mansion. There is no way to the other side except through that door," She pointed towards a dark wooden door that resembles that of a medieval castle. "The door will remain locked at all times, only I and the headmaster on the other side will be able to cross. Number three. There is no leaving the house. No going outside. Number four. You will follow the schedule, no skipping classes or meals. And lastly, number five." She stopped pacing in emphasis. "Don't go to the basement. Never go to the basement. Don't think about it, don't look at it. No matter what you hear, what you see, you may not enter the basement." She looked at them, staring into their souls, a chill went through the room. "Those who break the rules... will be punished. Am I clear?"

They nodded again. Her emphasis on the word, punished, struck terror into the hearts of all of them. None of them wanted to know what she meant. "Perfect. Follow me." She started towards a grand staircase. The house was old, it felt ancient, though Annie knew it couldn't be. It looked relatively modern, maybe built 30, 40 or so years ago at the turn of the century. The silent house echoed with each click of Headmistress Black's heels on the dark wooden floor. All was dim, only slightly illuminating the hundreds of vague pictures on the paneled walls.