Force of Nature β–Έ House of An...

By lucypcvensie

87.8K 3K 258

❝rise in peace.❞ At nearly eighteen years old, Ashley Adams has had a much more complicated life than others... More

chapter one. house of arrivals
chapter two. house of necklaces
chapter three. house of presents
chapter four. house of rumors
chapter five. house of truth
chapter six. house of accusations
chapter seven. house of hieroglyphs
chapter eight. house of parcels
chapter nine. house of revelations
chapter ten. house of movies
chapter eleven. house of questions
chapter twelve. house of competition
chapter thirteen. house of pi
chapter fourteen. house of gates
chapter fifteen. house of mistrust
chapter sixteen. house of projects
chapter seventeen. house of trickery
chapter eighteen. house of betrayal
chapter nineteen. house of unity
chapter twenty. house of sibuna
chapter twenty-one. house of entrapment
chapter twenty-two. house of antechambers
chapter twenty-three. house of sisters
chapter twenty-four. house of lakes
chapter twenty-five. house of tombs
chapter twenty-six. house of crypts
chapter twenty-seven. house of smuggling
chapter twenty-eight. house of nerves
chapter twenty-nine. house of anticipation
chapter thirty. house of chanting
chapter thirty-one. house of close calls
chapter thirty-two. house of alarms
chapter thirty-three. house of hustle
chapter thirty-four. house of names
chapter thirty-five. house of setup
chapter thirty-six. house of descendants
chapter thirty-seven. house of history
chapter thirty-eight. house of abduction
chapter thirty-nine. house of eclipse
chapter forty. house of saviors
chapter forty-one. house of awakening
chapter forty-two. house of expulsion
chapter forty-three. house of sarcophagi
chapter forty-four. house of cameras
chapter forty-five. house of possession
chapter forty-six. house of drawings
chapter forty-seven. house of greed
chapter forty-eight. house of the living
chapter forty-nine. house of deceptions
chapter fifty. house of tiles
chapter fifty-one. house of rainbows
chapter fifty-two. house of capsules
chapter fifty-three. house of enemies
chapter fifty-four. house of brick
chapter fifty-five. house of surprise
chapter fifty-six. house of aftermath
chapter fifty-seven. house of winning
chapter fifty-eight. house of dodgeball
chapter fifty-nine. house of moonlighting
chapter sixty. house of phonographs
chapter sixty-one. house of treachery
chapter sixty-two. house of treason
chapter sixty-three. house of imposters
chapter sixty-four. house of auditions
chapter sixty-five. house of cunning
chapter sixty-six. house of lullabies
chapter sixty-seven. house of suspicion
chapter sixty-eight. house of red
chapter sixty-nine. house of capture
chapter seventy. house of belief
chapter seventy-one. house of heartbreak
chapter seventy-two. house of blackout
chapter seventy-four. house of distraction
chapter seventy-five. house of defeat
chapter seventy-six. house of the staff
chapter seventy-seven. house of ammit
chapter seventy-eight. house of calls
chapter seventy-nine. house of heroes
chapter eighty. house of fireworks
how it ends

chapter seventy-three. house of hog

821 27 2
By lucypcvensie

☾ ☽

            With a new ice pack on the back of my head, I've nothing left to do but wallow in my own guilt. Just kidding—somewhat. While Fabian was right when he accused me of feeling guilty over what had happened, I refuse to let them win. Which means I have to go over everything I know, in my concussed state, to find some kind of loophole. If I do find one, I'll have to remember it long enough to tell the others. On the plus side, this theorizing is keeping me awake.

            Okay, so they've got some sinners. I think Victor was the first one taken. Patricia had to have been next. Fabian was... what number was Fabian? Was he three or four? I think four have been taken, but... I can't for the life of me remember who the other one was. Maybe only three were taken. Maybe I'm imagining things, maybe we're not close to the endgame like I thought. Maybe we have time.

            Or maybe when I have my head back I'll remember everything.

            Right, so anyway, the questions that need to be answered: what else was in the parcel Fabian had with KT's name on it, who sent it to her, how did Frobisher get Fabian (of all people) to the gatehouse to take him, how are they taking them as sinners, what do those hieroglyphs have to do with anything, and how am I involved with all of this?

            Okay, so now let's do some theories. There was the message that said sinners walk among us, but KT grabbed everything else before I could look. So maybe there was more info on the sinners in it. The only adult who knew about this and was on our side was Harriet Denby. Maybe Harriet sent it, from wherever Imposter Denby shipped her off to. Frobisher must've tricked Fabian and appealed to the Egyptologist inside him; it's the only explanation for Fabian willingly walking into the line of fire. Maybe how they're taking them has to do with the sarcophagi in the tank room—wait, that photograph we found in the book in the secret room! It was of the sarcophagi in the tank room. I can't believe I didn't realize that 'til now. And Lily, as her generation's Bringer of Death, must've had dreams like I do. Except, hers predicted something that happened almost an entire century later—Jesus, what are mine like?

            And that brings me to my biggest question. How is the Bringer of Death involved? Your time is coming. Fabian said that to me right before he gave me a concussion (a phrase I literally never thought I would say) so what does it mean? Does it mean Frobisher is getting closer to summoning Ammit? We already know I get feelings whenever I'm in the same building as a sinner, so theoretically I should get a feeling of dread when/if he completes his task. Okay, that makes sense, but, like...

            I felt like I was threatened when Fabian said that. Like I won't make it out of this alive, or at least with my head on right.

            But before I can think on it anymore, someone takes the ice pack from the back of my head and pushes it on my face, instantly waking me up when the cold of it touches my skin. I yelp and jump in my seat, turning to look at the person beside me. Jerome. Of course. He'd been doing that all night.

            "Trudy gave me the difficult job of keeping you awake," he tells me, now setting the ice pack on top of my head. "It's not my fault you keep falling asleep."

            "I'm not falling asleep, I'm zoning out," I correct. I look across his face, re-observing what I have before. He's a really good-looking guy. I mean, insanely good looking. Like, if I had to choose between Clooney and Clarke, I'd choose Clarke.

            And I've noticed several different ways he looks at me over the years—first, with contempt (that I later learned was mostly fake). Then, as we slowly began to move from frenemies to friends, he started looking at me differently, softer. I remember a few times when, just after we made the change from last to first names, I caught him looking at me when he didn't think I'd notice and there was something... different in his eyes. Like he was beginning to realize I was actually an awesome person and he was an idiot for pretending to hate me.

            Just kidding. But also I'm totally serious. But seriously, it was almost like he was paying such close attention to me, learning all of my tics and quirks. I hadn't noticed that before Alfie wound up in the hospital, and truth be told, I never really, truly noticed it until this year. Because he still does it. He still looks at me like he's studying me, like he's prepared to study me for the rest of his life, and I know this because this is how he's looking at me now.

            "Can we talk?" I ask him quietly as I remove the ice pack from the top of my head to place it back where it belonged. I lean my elbow on the back of the couch as he shrugs, gesturing to me as if to say I've got the floor. "You like to meddle. That's why you stole the diary, I know that. But you're... you're not a Sibuna, Jerome. You have no idea how deep this thing goes. Don't feel bad, neither does Joy. You actually know more than she does—"

            "I know I'm not a Sibuna," Jerome interrupts. "I'm a—what do you call it—temp. I know that. But I am your boyfriend, and you can't tell, Ashley, but you're spiraling. Every time Victor comes into a room you look like you're about to jump out of your skin. You came in the house tonight bleeding and you've got a concussion. And every time I see you, you look like you've seen a ghost, and actually, you look like one, too."

            I can't remember the last time I looked in a mirror at myself and actually looked. I haven't worn actual make-up in forever and I only glance at the mirror to make sure my hair looks somewhat presentable for school. I've probably forgotten what I look like by now. So all of this, everything he's saying, it rings eerily true, and I hate it.

            But still, I want to downplay how horrible I feel so he doesn't worry. Which is probably useless seeing as how he just listed all of these things. Still, I respond dismissively with a shrug, "I'm fine."

            "You know, out of every lie you've ever told me," he responds, "that's the one I hate the most. Everyone can see that you're not fine except for you. You need to take a break before whatever this is eats you alive."

            "I can't take a break, Jerome. I'm a part of it. And I don't just mean as a Sibuna."

            "What do you mean?"

            "How am I always involved?"

            Jerome inhales sharply, and I take that to mean he understands what I'm getting at. It's the part of me that's the Bringer of Death that's slowly been destroying me. I still have no idea what kind of powers I have beyond the basics. And I'm not sure I want to know.

            When he doesn't say anything, I continue. "This is so much bigger than the Cup of Ankh and the Mask of Anubis. Really, I—I had nothing to do with either of those. I just had to be there, for the Chosen One. But for this one... they need me for some reason. And I can't take a break because if I sit back and rest, I'm vulnerable and they'll win."   

            "If you keep going the way you're going now, they'll win anyways."

            Before I can respond, a voice above us clears their throat. It's Joy, holding a notebook in her hands. "Am I interrupting?" Jerome and I give differing answers—he, yes, me, no. I throw a glare at him before asking Joy what she needs. "Uh, I—I translated another hieroglyph."

            "What does it say?" I inquire, gesturing to the spot beside me.

            Joy takes it and shows me the page, pointing at the hieroglyph she translated. It's right next to the one that meant 12. "This one. It's 'hour,' which piqued my curiosity and I got to thinking. The secret society thought I was the Chosen One because I was born on the 7th of July at 7 o'clock—but they thought I was born at the 7th hour when I wasn't. That was Nina."

            "So you think this one refers to noon," I assume.

            She nods. "Yeah. Only question is, what happens at noon? So I wrote down everything else we've translated in this list, and it doesn't make sense to me. But you obviously haven't told me everything you know—even when saying that people aren't themselves—so I thought you would know better."

            As I take the notebook from Joy, Jerome peers over my shoulder and asks, "What is Ammit?"

            I shush him for now, looking over. Ammit. Sin. Twelfth hour. Rise. Dark sun. Osiris. Ammit. Sin. Twelfth hour. Rise. Dark sun. Osiris. Ammit. Sin. Twelfth hour. Rise. Dark sun. Osiris. I repeat it all in my head over and over, and for some reason to the tune of 'Cell Block Tango' from that movie musical Chicago. Don't ask, I don't even know. But I can't put any of it together, and then all of a sudden, I get an ice pack to the face. "Hey!"

            "You were falling asleep," Jerome informs, holding the pack in his hand. "Again." 

            "You were," Joy concurs. I glare at the pair of them. "So what does it all mean?"

            "No idea," I answer. "Hey, is Fabian home yet?"

            Joy shifts in her seat awkwardly. "Yeah, I saw him talking to Alfie in the entrance hall a few minutes ago. It looked tense, but the last person I want to talk to right now is Fabian. But something tells me you're not asking where he is because of this list."

            "What about Eddie? Has he or KT come back yet?"

            "I didn't even realize Eddie had left," Joy remarks.

            Jerome adds, "I haven't seen KT all day."

            I nod, getting up from the couch. I keep the ice pack on my head as I turn back to them, folding the list to stick in my pocket. "That leaves Alfie. See you later." I notice them share a concerned look before I leave the room, but someone follows me out into the hall and takes my arm, forcing me to stop and look at them. Jerome. "What?"

            "You can't even rest for one night?" Jerome retorts. "Concussion."

            "Alfie'll keep me awake better than you can."

            "How?"

            "Prank toys that make loud noise."

            Jerome throws me an annoyed look, much like... every look he's ever given me, but before he can respond, Alfie suddenly runs down the hall with his phone in hand. He skids to a stop when he sees us loitering, but just long enough to take my arm and tell him, "Jerome, I'm stealing Ashley. Gotta go, life and death and all. She'll come back in one piece."

            Jerome yells after us again, "Concussion!" as Alfie drags me out of the house.

            "Uh, what happened to 'you should be in a hospital?'" I question Alfie. "I think I left my phone in my room. Not to mention my whole sense of... sense."

            "I'm not leaving you alone with Fabian again," Alfie tells me, looking down at his phone as we powerwalk to wherever we're going. "Because I'm not stupid, I know you're gonna go taunt him. Just like I did."

            "Oh, my God, you taunted Sinner Fabian?"

            "Yeah, to get photographic proof that he's a sinner to show KT," he answers. "I took a page out of your playbook. Except I didn't punch him." I roll my eyes—it always comes back to the tiny little fact that I punched Frobisher. Never mind that I didn't go there planning to run into him, I just wanted to know what that book was. "For a second there, I thought he would give me a concussion, too. But he was asking where Eddie had gone. I'm hoping he found KT and we'll meet them halfway."

            "So we're going to the gatehouse?"

            "Or going in that direction, at least."

            "Uh-huh, and you thought it was a good idea to bring a concussed me there alone?"

            "Pretty much, yeah. That thing with you and Jerome looked intense, though—what happened?"

            "Oh, the usual, he thinks I'm doing too much and apparently I'm not looking like myself and this thing is probably gonna kill me."

            "I hate how casually you said all that," Alfie comments. I glance at him, switching the arm I was holding the ice pack with. "He's right, you know. You look like you're the walking dead. Which, by the way, is my worst nightmare, so being around you lately is like a living nightmare."

            "Wow, thanks, Alfie."

            "I just mean that you should listen to him."

            "Then why drag me out to the gatehouse to find Eddie and/or KT?"

            "Because I didn't want you to pull a me-pulling-a-you and talk to Fabian."

            "I was coming to find you, not Fabian."

            "But you would've found Fabian in my room."

            "Oh, okay, so we're leaving everyone at the house defenseless against a sinner?"

            "Well... shut up, you're getting me off track. I think we took a wrong turn somewhere."

            --

            After finding our way back to the path that leads from Anubis House to Denby's gatehouse, Alfie stops for a second, and then he takes off in a run. "KT! KT!" The girl herself is around the corner from the doors and pushes herself back. "KT! It's me. It's me."

            "How do I know?" KT asks, visibly frightened.

            By this time, I've caught up to them as Alfie shows her the video he took of Fabian. Breathing heavily, I lean against the building, closing my eyes. "Al—Alfie, I'm gonna kill you."

            Alfie shushes me and assures KT, "Fabian's the sinner, not me. He even gave Ashley a concussion after we left her in the crypt with him." I show her the ice pack as proof, fortunate that my head stopped bleeding some time ago.

            KT's eyes widen as she looks over at me, and then she tells us dreadfully, "They got Eddie."

            My blood runs cold. "What?"

            "Frobisher pulled him inside. You should've seen his face."

            Footsteps sound somewhere near us and Alfie pulls the two of us back, but we glance as far as we can without being spotted by whoever it is. It's Victor, who knocks on the door. When it opens, it all comes back to me once I see who steps out. Mr. Sweet. He's a sinner. I never had a chance to tell Eddie that earlier. He found out Patricia was one and I think I was gonna tell him when he saw Patricia trying to capture Alfie, and then the next time I saw him and could've had a chance to tell him, I was concussed.

            "What is it?" Victor asks, sounding like he was summoned to the gatehouse.

            "We have the final one," says Sweet. "It's Edison." Victor checks the time on his pocket watch, and my eyebrows furrow. Hour. Twelfth hour. Maybe it's not exactly like the 7AM dilemma with the Chosen One. Maybe twelfth hour refers to both midnight and noon. "Yes, almost midnight." Okay, that confirms the theory. I'll have to tell KT and Alfie the second they get out of our sight.

            "Just in time. If we had to wait until midday, we'd have been forced to listen to the boy's insufferable utterances for a further twelve hours." As Victor speaks, I slowly unfold the paper from my pocket and pass it over to KT, who looks on the verge of a breakthrough.

            "More than either of us could bear."

            "Indeed."

            As they go inside, KT turns to me. "What is this?"

            "There were hieroglyphics in my great-grandmother's diary," I answer. "This is what Joy and I have translated. Mostly her. The whole twelfth hour thing reminded her about why they thought she was the Chosen One," I look over to Alfie, because he'll understand more than KT would, "because was she born at 7PM when they needed someone who was born at 7AM."

            "Meaning?" Alfie says slowly.

            "They can only catch sinners at midnight or midday," KT answers.

            "That explains the red eyes I saw on myself today," I state. "It was exactly noon when I checked the clock. But we don't have long until midnight and every sinner but Fabian is in there, along with Frobisher and Denby. There's no way the three of us would be able to distract all of them long enough to rescue Eddie."

            "Unless we ruin their plans tonight," KT suggests.

            "Then Eddie'll be safe until at least morning," Alfie comments.

            "There'll only be Frobisher in there. We could distract him and save Eddie."

            "Okay, new question," I state. "How do we ruin their plans tonight? I'm not exactly at the top of my game with this concussion."

            "Maybe..." KT looks at me, studying me. "We might be able to use that to our advantage."

            --

            After KT lays out her vague plan to ruin their plans (basically, we wing it), the three of us carefully sneak into the gatehouse together. My part in the plan is basically to be bait should we get caught—KT has this theory that if the Bringer of Death isn't at the top of her game, that whatever they need me for won't work. I can't say I disagree. I probably need to be focused for whatever they need, and I'm the opposite of focused right now.

            "Wait," KT says suddenly when we're not even a foot into the gatehouse.

            "It's almost midnight," Alfie reminds her.

            "We can't just go running in there, or they'll get us, too."     

            "I could go running in there," I volunteer, raising my ice pack. KT and Alfie simultaneously shoot me down. I frown, putting the pack back on my head. My hair back there is completely damp by now, but what do I care? I'm planning on throwing it at an Evil One if they spot us. It's the only reason I didn't discard it in the bushes.

            "We have to think."

            After a few moments of silence, Alfie tells her, "Think faster." KT shrugs. "You got nothing."

            "I got something," I say again.

            "No, you don't," Alfie retorts again.

            "I got nothing," KT confirms.

            I sigh, looking between them as I go ahead of them. "I mean, since I'm the one with an actual plan..." They both follow me as I carefully go up the stairs and open the door that leads to the main study. Eddie would be in the tank room, but as luck would have it, the door to it is locked. "Great. I'm fresh out of bobby pins."

            "There has to be something here," KT insists. She whirls around, and then stops right by a bookcase. She removed a rather large book and points at the organ. "I got an idea."

            So she places the book on the organ, making it play several sustained notes due to the pressure on the keys, which ought to draw them out. The three of us hide behind the door to the study, waiting for them, and then they come. Victor, Denby, Sweet, Patricia, Frobisher. Everyone but Eddie.

            "You think we got there in time?" Alfie asks quietly.

            "I think so," KT answers.

            "Are my eyes red?" I ask. They both look at me and shake their heads. "We got there in time. He's safe, for now."

            I look back around the corner, just as another figure appears in the doorway to the tank room. It's Eddie, and he's making a run for it. But there's too many of them and they circle him as he tries to escape and Frobisher's yelling to take him. We duck behind the corner so no one sees, but we're met with the horrible sight of Sweet and Victor dragging Eddie back through the door.

            "I feel bad to leave him there," Alfie mutters.

            "He's got it under control," KT reasons. "And he's safe 'til tomorrow."

            "So we have twelve hours to get him out of here," I say. "We need a game-plan. Maybe we pull a page out of Frobisher's playbook. I'm supposed to stay awake, I'll work on it."

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