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Sang's/Cyan's POV
Location: With Leninora
Date: November 2nd
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After breakfast, and clean up, and Lucian's surprising farewell, I rushed outside after taking a quick shower.
Leninora told me to meet her outside, near the empty stables.
My mind still flashes back to that nanosecond of Lucian's lips touching my cheek. It swirls up my thoughts and makes me feel gooey and cloudy. I should be working on finding Tommy, and setting up my toys but first I need to find out what Leninora wants.
My cheeks have cooled, and my mushed up brain snaps back into focus as Leninora's slumped over position against one of the wooden posts meant for tacking down the horses comes into focus.
Her eyes are half-mast, and clutched in one hand is a lit cigarette and the other is filled with a large mason jar of something that reeks of booze. It's inconspicuous enough, with it's orange-red color but the barely tolerable scent of tequila mixed with vodka wafts from the wide mouth of the glass.
"It's a little early to be drinking, don't you think?" I grumble.
Len gulps down some more of her Bloody....Maria?....and straightens up.
"I want to show you something, and I can't do it sober." Leninora looks uncharacteristically somber. Not to be confused with sober.
My mind flies to a hundred different places and falls on only one subject that could make Len this serious. "Are you taking me to where Mom is buried?"
Len winces. Then, jerkily brings her jar to her lips and then drains a good quarter of the liquid.
It takes her a minute to compose herself, and when she does her voice is deeper. "Yeah, in a way. Come on, before I lose my stomach for this shit."
She turns away and trudges off. Her gait is wobbly and I jog to catch up with her, to shore her up when she tilts too far to one side and nearly crashes to the ground in a drunken slump.
We walk, arm in arm and leaning against one another, for a few hours. We pass cottages and stroll through gardens. Len points out places to me: spots my mom liked to visit to write or doodle, landscape gardens my mom designed herself, special areas meant just me, for some other life that I had been meant to live.
One place that hit me hardest was a wooden cradle tucked into a corner of the backyard of one of the original cottages on the property. Len explained that it had been made with grape vines from a villa in France, brought over after one of mom's honeymoons.
It had been overtaken by a rose bush, and a rattle had been left forgotten inside of it. It was a sad and yet breathtaking sight.
Eventually, we walked to the woods, and into them. It went from bright daylight to a shady, if chilly, haven. I'm glad I found a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt in what's left of the clothes from Lala, though I decided to skip on the shoes because the air is colder than I was expecting.
And denser. Lately, everything has felt so....thin. And painful. The very air around me and in me has felt so tenuous and frail.
But out here, the tree's feel as if they're enveloping me in safety. Out here, not a single soul can see me. Dontavion is far away. All the mysterious boys wanting to save me are far away. The prying eyes of the public waiting to tear into me, to claw out the secrets myself and the others are hiding, are far away. Nothing out here is interested in me.
Not even Leninora is interested. She sucked up every drop of her boozy drink, and I think she's smoked an entire pack of her Natural American Spirit's. Her eyes are glazed, and the only reason we're going at a reasonable pace is because of Len's long legs and my arm keeping her steady.
We follow a dirt path, long overgrown but still detectable by small, shiny trail tags set into the ground. They're pretty, opalescent in the sun and they remind me of the inside of the shells I'd found along the ocean coast.
They're the reason I'm staring at the ground, instead of watching where we're going.
Brightness nearly blinds me when we walk out of the tree line, and for a moment I can't see a thing. It's not just the outside glare, I realize as I finally get my barrings.
In front of me is this glass building. It's huge and ornate and....everything I've never known I wanted.
"This would have been where we raised you." Leninora lets go of me to plop on the ground. She's so drunk some of her words take a few seconds to form as if her brain is powered down to battery-save-mode
"It's beautiful." I admire it, walking closer to the shining walls.
"It's a death trap." Len slurs. "Your mother built it, with a few of her beaus. She didn't want anyone to know it existed, so she was adamant about doing it all ourselves. Maybe it would have been fine if we'd been keeping up with it over the years....but that's not what happened."
"What do you mean?" I question. It seems fine to me.
"She had the other guys dig a basement floor before they built the house. One of the guys, you'll meet him sometime, did some elementary calculations to guesstimate where it would make the most sense to put support beams. I guess he wasn't as smart as he thought, because it's started to warp and sag in places."
"How bad is it? Is it safe to go in?" I creep closer to one of the windows, charmed at the intricacy of the glass webbing as I get close enough to touch it.
A shadow appears in the window, a large, imposing figure, and I yelp in fright.
I propel myself backward, and trip and fall on my butt. The figure moves away from the window in a hurry, leaving me with a pounding heart.
"Len!" I silently shriek, forgetting for a moment that I don't have the loud volume I need. "Len! In the window!" I shout-whisper.
"I saw." Len seems to sober up almost instantly. My arms are grabbed and Len hauls me to my feet.
"Yeeaahh." Len draws the word out. "This is going to fuck me up real good. We need to make...go in and make sure it's not a reporter." She stumbles and shoots a hand out to rest on the glass panes, the only sign she's not quite right, and pushes herself forward.
I follow, my heart in my throat.
~~~
The deeper into the building we get, the more off it seems.
While the outside is glass and metal, the inside has rooms sectioned off by shoji panels and every piece of furniture has long been shrouded with sheets. It lends the hallways and rooms we pass an odd and eerie aesthetic.
You would think with all the light from the glass that it would be less creepy, but the odd haziness from the immense amount of sunshine is like something out of a dreamscape and it puts me on edge. Add on the sheet-covered furniture, or sheet-covered zombies or sheet-covered ghosts or sheet-covered monsters, and you've got all the makings of a new-age horror movie.
Leninora isn't making the situation any better. She's moving at a snail's pace and jumping at every little noise. To be fair though, the building does shifts more than normal. It's got to be from the sagging area's and maybe the iron casings wearing down from the years of neglect on the windows.
In contrast, we move without making a sound, my bare feet and Len's sneakers making no noise against the wooden floorboards. It's a little like we're the ghosts.
So, yeah. Eerie doesn't begin to cover it.
"I keep expecting your mother to pop out of one of these rooms. She liked to do that, just pop out and scare the ever-loving shit out of me." Len says.
"Did she do a lot of practical jokes?" I ask, curiously. I've imagined what type of person my mom was, in the last few days. What type of person could keep up with Leninora Lockheart? What type of mom would she have been?
"Nothing she did would constitute as the typical definition of a practical joke. It was more like she did things just to see what would happen. That was one of the things we bonded on, experimentation and meddling." Len explains.
"Meddling?"
"Yeah, like setting up people who didn't match. Or sticking our nose into places it didn't belong for the hell of it. Helping someone for no reason other than to be a nuisance to someone else. Things like that," Len smiles nostalgically. "We were a good team."
I return her smile with a sad one of my own but it feels more like a grimace.
"Mom sounds like she was your evil side-kick," I grumble, but Len hears me anyways.
"It was more like the other way around." Len chuckles but cuts off abruptly.
"Do you hear that?" Len slickly moves to put her back against a nearby wall and gestures for me to do so too with a flailing hand.
"Hear what?," I move slowly to do as Len bids.
I keep my ears open and try my best to catch what she's going on about but it's no good. I normally have excellent hearing, but this building is chock-full of so much noise.
"Growling. Meowing. Come here," Len snatches my arm and forcibly moves me to her spot against the wall. I frown, realizing I can hear something from here. The guttural purr sound of growling, and the sweet mewling of kittens, plural, can be heard from this spot. I crouch and point down at a vent. "Where do the vents connect to?"
Len thinks for a second and sighs, "Down."
"So, it's coming from downstairs." I assess. I put my ear to the vent and listen some more. The sounds ebb and waver in volume, but I'm certain....I know that sound. The growly sound.
"Fuck. I fucking hate downstairs." Len growls.
"I think it's Bardavon. I don't think he's ever seen kittens before. Maybe he's trying to play with them?" I try to reason.
"That wouldn't explain the human-sized shadow in the window." Len points out.
"Should we wait to check it out? Maybe the dogs and cats are separate from the shadow?"
"I could count on one hand how often one unusual event didn't have something to do with a congruently occurring unusual event." Leninora's frown pulls down a little more, almost comically. "We need to find that shadow-man and I'm almost certain he's downstairs with the kitties and your dog."
"Let's go then," I answer with a small bit of dismay. I'm pretty sure I don't want to be under this building either.
We move quickly, with no small amount of purpose: Leninora because I truly think she hates being here, and me because I'm really worried about those baby cats. Bardavon has never shown any predilection for kitty-cat meat but as I've mentioned before, he's also never seen a cat before.
We come to an old rundown kitchen and Len leads us to the fridge- or maybe not the operating fridge because Len bids me help her pull it out and behind it is a small door.
It's a short door, and a little more square and squat in shape.
"There are other ways to get in downstairs but this way is quieter and sneakier." Len explains when I scrunch up my nose.
The door opens with a silent swish. Inside, it looks completely dark. A void of nothingness.
"Let's go then. It's not going to get any spooky than it already is," Len shoves me inside, right into a dense cluster of spiderwebs.
I flail, grabbing at my face to pull off the spider's silk and squeaking in horror.
"You're fine. It's just a few itsy-bitsy spiders, calm down." Leninora pushes into me and closes the door behind her, leaving us in complete darkness.
"You did that on purpose," I hiss.
I hear her chuckle in the dark, close to my ear, and a bony hand grabs mine to propel us both forward. Her hand is cold and dry, like a bare skeleton.
We walk for a bit, hand in hand. There is no light, not behind us nor before us, and it forces my other senses into hyper-drive: the sound of our feet echos in the narrow hallway, mingling with the creaks and groans of the house above us. At one point I think I hear the scurrying of rodents. It reminds me of the Mav Estates, the underground parts.
It adds a whole new dimension of unsettling emotions when that comparison sinks in for me.
The air around us is stale and thin, irritating the whole column of my throat. Everything smells thickly of moisture and earthly things and yet my mouth feels like cotton and it feels like I'm breathing in glass particles.
It's not much longer until I begin to feel shaky and light-headed. Nightmarish memories plague my mind.
"The entrance is just ahead," Len finally breaks into my thoughts, keeping her voice as low as possible. I don't see a thin bit of light along the floor, signaling a door, but I do smell something akin to the river, so we must have walked along the house toward the back of it. From what I remember though, the river is still a bit far off from even this point of the property.
We stop, and I hear Len fumbling with something.
This door also opens silently, into a warmly-light dome-ceiling room.
Stepping inside, I'm surprised to see it's set up a lot like the library inside the Lockheart Manor. It's smaller, and there aren't any windows like back at the house, but there are the same types of shelving units and flooring. There's one single table with a lantern providing light for the whole room: It leaves the room with some peculiar shadows and very little visibility.
Len lets me move into the room first. I sneak along the wall, noting that the door we've come in through matches the wall molding, allowing it to seamlessly close behind Leninora. No one would know it was there unless they were aware it was there already.
"Mow." A soft cat noise sounds deeper in the room. There are a few shelves between the place where the sound came from and us.
'A.L.C.O.V.E.' Leninora signs to me, and I nod. Only one way in and one way out for our quarry.
We move together, Leninora in front. I place my feet where she does, making certain to keep my feet flat to minimize sound.
We both advance to stand on either side on the entrance of the alcove. Another oil lamp is set up inside, and after Len glances around the corner first, and her whole demeanor changes at what she finds. Her eyes roll, and all the tension leaves her shoulders.
She puts her hand out flat, beckoning me to stay hidden. With a lazy sigh, she curls around the corner and addresses the person inside the space with a confounding amount of familiarity.
"Hey, Silas. Whatcha doing with those fluffy balls of stinkiness inside my fucking lair?"
I tilt my head, breath-abated to hear the reply. Lair?
Instead, the cock of a gun, louder than if he'd just pulled the trigger, jolts through me.
"Woah there, big guy. You're inside my house. With little silky demon-spawn." Leninora's mouth pulls up in disgust. "If anyone should be pointing a gun, it should be me."
"Some asshole left them on the side of the road," A deep voice growls. "But I couldn't leave. You've got a giant hole in your security."
"Should have just left them where you found them," Len shrugs. "Why the gun?"
"This place is haunted," The deep voice explains, dead serious.
"Mmm. No. It's creepy, I'll give you that, but it's not haunted." Leninora leans on the bookshelf, hiding her face from me.
"It is. There was a woman, with long white hair and wearing a white dress."
Len's shoulders stiffen, and she drops all pretenses of appearing casual. She pushes off the shelf to creep closer to the man with all the calm of a viper ready to strike.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Len hisses, her arms wrapping around her. To anyone else, it would look like she was holding onto herself in a self-comforting gesture, but I know better. It's a position that leaves her hands on the two guns she keeps strapped on her hips.
I hold my breath, waffling on whether to reveal myself to stop any bloodshed or to stay hidden and keep out of danger. The latter is obviously what Len wants, but I'm curious.
I peek. Of course, I peek. Really, who wouldn't? The guy has got the voice of a cuddly bear. And the kitten sounds are pulling me in just as hard.
Where's Bardavon though?
I glance around the corner with wide eyes, and my mouth pops open when I recognize the large figure of a man. He's sitting in an armchair, next to a small fireplace and he looks mighty comfortable. And familiar.
"Hey, it's you!" I thoughtlessly call out.
Leninora swings her head to glare and at me, and I poke my tongue out at her. I move from my hiding spot, my eyes on the dark-haired man. His dark European skin, dark from what I imagine has been many days under the sun, strong jaw, and deeply soulful eyes turn toward me and I feel a little heart flutter when his thick lips turn up in a smile.
"Hi," He's got his hands full of kittens. Literally, he must have 4 or 5 of them bundled into his arms and I lose my sense of self. I happen to be an animal person. Very much so. Dontavion had been allergic to most fur-carrying babies and forbid them on his Estates, but that never stopped me from admiring the ones I did see from time to time.
I all but scuttle forward and yank away one of the mewling kittens with little regard to Leninora's irritated gaze or the Grecian marvel's amused scrutiny. I plop down on the other side of the little fireplace and find myself eye level with my favorite German Shepard.
"Hi, Bardavon. Where have you been?" I ask, nonsensically. He just turns to snuffle at my foot, then turns back to growl at a wall.
"What's he doing?" Len asks the guy. Silaz, I think. Silas? Silis? North's friend.
"The ghost woman chased us down here. She kept asking if I needed anything," Silas explains. "I didn't know she was a ghost. Not until she started walking through doors and walls. She couldn't follow us in here. Maybe she's on the other side of the wall?"
"There's no such thing as a ghost," Leninora growls. I notice she's gone pale.
"I'm not lying." Silas says.
"Welp, you're not truth-ing either." Leninora barks before turning and stomping off.
"Where are you going?" I call out.
"I'm gonna go look around." Leninora moves out of sight, and seconds later the deafening sound of a door being ripped open and slammed shut rings throughout the room.
The kitten in my arms wiggles around, surprised at the loud noise. It's big grey eyes and black fur are beautiful. I pet the creature gently and look back up to Silas. He's also petting the kittens in his arms, and looking to me. His gun has disappeared at some point.
"How'd you get in here, anyway? There're a few doors, but they all open that loud." He points off to where Leninora left.
"It's a secret," I respond simply. He doesn't seem to mind my simplistic answer. He just nods.
We sit in silence. I don't ask him why he's here. I don't really care. He's not any harm, or at least I'm pretty sure he's not. Something about him, some unnamed emotion connected to some unremembered memory tells me he's another trusted ally.
We're still sitting there, maybe 15, at most 25 minutes later when a door bangs open so loudly and with such force that the kittens jump and scramble out of our arms in terror. Bardavon moves in front of us with a vicious growl.
Silas jumps up from the chair in the corner and moves to stand in front of me. It's a sweet, noble gesture but it's one I don't really need him to perform. I slide a knife out of my hair, holding it like a shiv.
Leninora comes around the corner, looking particularly manic. Her short hair, normally tidy and combed, is sticking up in every which way.
"We're leaving. I'm going to come back tonight and blow the place to kingdom come." Leninora yanks me to my feet and frogmarches me forward.
"Why?" I ask. A few of the kittens follow us to a door, and Bardavon leaves his post to sniffle at them, though they all run away when Leninora wrenches the door open and darts us through.
"This place is fucking haunted," Leninora practically shrieks at me. "Haunted as fuck."
"I told you," Silas chuckles, following us. The kittens follow him, Bardavon bringing up the rear. It's cute, the way the kittens run and try to claw up Silas' pant legs, only to fall back down because another one tries to climb up on them. Bardavon just sniffs at their butts, nosing along a particularly small fur ball that waddles slower than the rest.
"Shut up," Leninora growls lowly. She lets go of me to creep up and look around a corner.
She looks on edge, more so than I've ever seen before. She looks like she's seen a ghost.
"Hello." A soft, feminine voice speaks in my ear and I jump nearly a foot in the air.
I turn slowly, cautiously and meet the eyes of a woman not much older than me.
Her eyes are green, like mine. Her hair is like Leninora's; snow white, but flowing to her waist and curled in chaotic waves. She's taller than me by two heads, maybe 2 and a half, mostly because of the tall heels on her ghostly feet.
"What do we have here?" The ghost asks me. I shake a little, my eyes probably wide as saucers. I can see right through the person. Straight through, like she's made of frosted glass.
A.N. It took me years to find people that embodied the aesthetic I had in mind for Leninora and Auroura. While Jude Karda is perfect for what I imagine for Leninora, Loren Gray has only recently caught my eye as far as Auroura's aesthetic goes. I like her more fashion-oriented photos for Auroura's aesthetic, but only because Loren wears a lot of mid-riff showing tops and that's not really what I envision as Auroura's style. This one is pretty close though. You can envision them however you want, this is just my two-cents as far as aesthetic.
Leninora whirls around and chokes when she gets an eyeful of our stranger. She flattens herself against the wall. Silas just stands there, the cats climbing up his legs. Bardavon, in a strange twist, growls and circles to a guarding position in front of Silas and the kittens. What a good boy.
I have no idea what to say. It's clear that this person is freaking Leninora out. And I've got a pretty good guess on why.
When I don't answer, the ghost turns to Leninora and Len starts to slide to the ground.
"Lenny-Lumpkins, you look a little peckish. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea? I could set up a cookie tray too, if you would like." The specter glides to Len and Len shrinks back so fast her head makes a thump against the wall behind her.
"I'm sure I could scare up some of those little cucumber sandwiches you like so much as well."
Len shakes her head, slowly. She mutters something, so low I can't make out the words but the ghost seems to understand perfectly.
"No, I am not. Leninora aware. Protocol disrupted." The ghost blinks out of focus and then disappears completely. Around us, a screech sounds and the same feminine voice speaks, "Protocol terminated."
None of us move. Leninora looks a little green.
"What was that?" I direct the question at Leninora when it's clear the specter isn't coming back. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath.
"What happened is my wife was a little more mischievous than even I was aware of. Let's get out of here. I'm nowhere near sober enough to deal with this right now." Leninora scrambles up to her feet, snatches my arm and all but runs us out of the building. Silas follows, silent except for the tiny kitten meows and the loping gait of Bardavon's paws.
"What about the shadow?" I ask. It's clear the shadow wasn't Silas. It couldn't have been the specter.
Len pauses.
"I don't know. I'll come back. Let's get you back to the Manor." She turns to glance at Silas. "And tell North that his boyfriend is on the premises."