Mona Lisa really was back home. Her personality had not change, but her looks were another story. She had an uneven tan complexion, that scar that ruined her smile, her dark hair was frizzy and simply tucked into a bun, and skinnier than ever. She was only back because of a premonition she had last year. At least, she was pretty sure she had a premonition, since she had not thought of Brendon for a while at the time.
As Mona continued to hurry to Mary's house, Mona reflected on the last time she had seen Brendon.
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Another dumb party was occurring as Brendon and Mona sneaked out of the Urie home. Crickets chirped, the sky was a quilt of midnight blue and the twinkling stars and the silvery moon. Mona was forced into a custom-made olive green masterpiece. Although it was a masterpiece, it was giving her less breathing room than if she was suffocating. Mona gazed at the moon. She commented, "Those pinheads don't know what they're missing."
Brendon cracked up. "They're missing the moon. The stars. Bloody hell, those bastards need a breath of fresh air!"
Mona nodded. "You really need to stop repeating my father's claims. Even if they are right."
Brendon whispered, "Mona, do you still plan on leaving here?"
Mona nodded. "Brendon, I am a gypsy soul. If I stay around here any longer, I'll go mad. I swear I will be back. Why can't you come with me?"
"I can't do that to my parents!"
Mona was silent for a moment. "I have to go."
Mona pecked Brendon's lips, and Brendon pulled her in. They stayed like this for a few minutes. Mona winked. "I'll see you later." She trudged off the property. When she looked back, Brendon was staring at her as if she had lost her mind.
Brendon felt oddly giddy. Brendon supported this romance. As he returned to his own home, Brendon felt glee settle in his core. Best friends until the end. Better off as lovers.
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Mona worried if her premonition was an actual premonition, and if it came true before she could save her Brendon... Mona felt odd worrying. She had been care-free, eager, and at her peak condition these past ten years. Her years with gypsies and other wanderers could do nothing to block her love for Brendon. He came and went through her thoughts at odd times. Mona panicked as she paced herself quickly.
Mary Stafford. Why would Brendon get involved with her? Why would Elizabeth Wren or Kathryn Lacelyn reject the charming Brendon Urie? Mona could only begin to imagine Brendon's appearance in person now. Handsome as a pre-teen and a very young teenager... he is now one of the one of the most enviable men in Europe now.
Mona shook her head. Romance now and your childhood friend might possibly be dead by now? The last time Mona had felt amorous love was when she met Remus. Dark hair, olive skin, strong nose, those dark eyes... the gypsy boy had been so much like herself. She had been somewhat courted by the Romanian, until the premonition came and Mona fled back to her home-place.
Her footsteps finally hit the path that led to the Stafford home. The sunrise made the moment somehow perfect. Several stolen horses, a few lucky carriages, and miles walked to get back here. Mona noticed the Stafford house seemed to be empty. She hesitated at the door, then flung the open door back. Mona entered. She raced down the hallway, then a body that certainly wasn't breathing caught her eye. She turned around to find her Brendon, dead.
Mona couldn't cry. The tears were imprisoned, the realization dull. She came too late. Too late to save Brendon.
Mona wished Remus would appear out of nowhere, seeming to materialize out of the shadows. She knelt beside Brendon. "Brendon," she whispered. No response. She felt his icy cheek. He had been dead for a few hours, at least.
"I told you she was feeling homesick!" A famaliar voice cried. Esteban? Why was he here?
Esteban had been a friend from Spain. He had stopped tp chat right before Mona's gypsy group performed. Talkative, animated, so full of life.
"Esteban, there has to be something more than that. Mona has been on the road for almost a decade. After a decade, she decided to feel homesick. That makes no sense," Another voice reasoned. That must be Remus.
"Remus? Esteban?" Mona's voice was a mere whisper. She buried her face into Brendon's neck. A few tears leaked. The leak was enough to shatter the pail.
Esteban had been able to detect the faint whisper. "Listen, whoever you are..." He then heard muffled sobs. "Don't cry..." Esteban turned to Remus. "Who's so that?"
Remus shrugged. "I don't know. Let's find out."
"Okay."
Esteban and Remus roamed through the hall. The source of the sobbing was quickly located. A rather tall female was sobbing her heart out. She seemed to be lying on top of a body.
"Mona? Mona Lisa?" Remus whispered softly. He crouched beside the wailing Mona Lisa. Remus realized the male body underneath her was dead.
"Is he dead?" Esteban questioned.
Remus turned to nod. He grabbed hold on Mona. She buried her head in Remus's chest. Remus held her tight. He was not sure what to do.
Esteban knelt down to rub her back. His bubbly mind did not like this sadness. He wanted to see Mona's knowing smile. "Mona, who's dead?"
Mona tried to answer, but her breath was hitched in her throat. She choked out, "Bren... don... Urie." She resumed crying and wondering how Esteban and Remus appeared.
Remus was once a coroner. He checked Brendon for injuries. There was his wrist-a dash of blood, a line of murder. "Brendon was murdered!"
"Murdered?" Esteban repeated in disbelief. "This lad may have a few enemies. Like gentlemen-well, not very gentlemen-who seemed to like the boy's lady. Could that be it?"
Remus considered this. Esteban was possibly right. How did he know if Brendon even had a lady? Remus asked, "Whose home are we in?"
Mona sniffled. "The Stafford home. Brendon is... was... engaged to Mary Stafford."
Remus knew all about Brendon. A little about Mary, too. But not about Brendon and Mary. "Mary could... have done this dastardly act. I believe she did. Mary, from what you say, is a very clever person."
A slight knowing smile laced with sorrow appeared upon Mona's lips. "We have to find Mary!"
Remus added, "We have to find solid proof!"
Esteban mentioned, "We need a bath! And potty break!"
Mona agreed. "Not here, though."
"I say we should. We need to teach Mary about whom to mess with and not to mess with. Come on, friends! Let us take a bath! Together!"
Remus did not fancy the thought of taking a bath with Esteban and Mona at the same time. "Er..." Remus stalled as he realized the minutes wasted on individual baths only provided more leeway for Mary. "Okay."
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After locating the bathroom, to trio proceeded to run the water and strip down into nudity. After the water was deep(they needed a good short soak), they climbed in. Lavender-scented soap cleansed the trio. When Esteban somehow accidentally grabbed Mona's butt cheek, Mona exclaimed, "Oh!"
"Oh?" Esteban repeated. "Ah, sorry."
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There was the sound of a fire crackling. The wooden room was empty, save a dead Brendon Urie that was ready to be taken away for burial. Mona crossed over to the body. She felt a hand guide her own. Beside her, a ghost. The ghost of Brendon.
"Brendon," Mona whispered. His touch was still famaliar, though slightly cooler and more like a feather stroking. His hand led her to a pocket inside his coat. Her fingers were forced to grab a note. Mona read it.
Mary
"Pull this out at my funeral," Brendon ordered. He faded into the fire. Mona stared, her eyes wide, then she felt a strange burning.
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"Mona Lisa, are you alright?" Esteban asked.
She replied, "Mary killed Brendon. He has a note."
Remus was confused. "A note? But Brendon was murdered. Wrist slit. You saw it. He couldn't have accepted his death like that. Mary wouldn't let him write a note."
"So you do not believe in ghosts?" Mona questioned.
Remus shook his head. "Nonsense. There is no logical reason to prove it. This talk of spirits and ghost and the dead brought to life... I shan't find it possible unless I can truly believe it."
"My uncle, Ferdinand, had a real strange encounter with a ghost. He was in this graveyard, in the middle of the night, of course, and this ghost touched him. Uncle Ferdie said that the feel was a chill and that the touch was not like just the feel of a cold hand. It's like a... I don't know. A ticklish sensation."
Mona told them her vision. Remus was blunt. "Just a dream induced by this craziness. The past few moments have been immersed in... discovery."
"But, Remus-" Esteban began.
Remus interjected, "I can't believe this-"
"Remus, we really should be on our way," Mona pointed out.
Remus became reluctant. "Fine, we will play this vision game."
"Remus, I know I'm right. I can feel it."
"Sure you are."
The trio began to prepare for an odyssey to gather evidence.