Forum
Chapter 5: (Sh)It Follows
Sawyer
Sawyer hung her head out of shame and embarrassment, of course Brooke new best about these things.
Her attention was quickly turned to the trap door,
"Jinkies."
Stavo felt a mix of awe, relief and disgust as Sawyer's arm fit back into place. "Yeah," he patted her on the back, careful not to further disrupt her skeleton. "That was pretty legit." So legit in fact, he'd even let Sawyer's pass at him slide. She'd earned one.
His attention was drawn to the now revealed trap door. "You said it," he muttered, brushing more detritus aside. "Where there's war, there's truth." He looked to Brooke and Sawyer. "Let's see where your war's led us."
***
Nicodemus plucked at his guitar a few times before strumming in a steady rhythm.
"There once
was a man
named Gayreth..."
-Stavo and Nicodemus
Aleks looked up when he called out towards her, and she shook her head. "I don't know, and I'm not a chained up dog! I got hurt earlier..." She didn't need to explain herself to him though, not right now, and honestly she wasn't sure what to do in regards to everything.
"Brooke is with Stavo, and everyone else is...well wherever they are."
She looked at her boots, thankful that they were covering up her feet, despite the pain she felt from the wounds on her feet.
"And I have a name you know, its Aleks." She said stubbornly, looking at him with a frown.
-Aleks
There was a metal latch on the door, looking to have been affixed fairly recently. Brooke found she only had to worry it a little before it opened, letting out a damp, muddy underground sort of stench.
"Curiouser and curiouser," she looked down the shaft, noting the wooden ladder affixed in the side, plunging down into the darkness, "So, this is either the payaso's hideaway, or something considerably worse."
She paused, "Or just a secret door in the ground that had nothing to do with anything going on tonight, but at this point, who'd buy that?"
She looked around, "Who's the lucky spelunker?" looking pointedly at Stavo.
***
"...Gareth?" Phyllis prompted, puzzled.
***
"Yeah, you got hurt," Ryan eyed her bandaged feet, "...because you freaked the fuck out and ran for the hills without your house shoes."
He paused, "Looks ain't everything, I guess."
He folded his arms, "I know your name. Mine's Ryan. Or dickwad delinquent, I'm not picky. So..." he looked around, "You give Zach some time off, or did he escape?"
-Brooke, Phyllis and Ryan
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Aleks asked him, placing her hands on her hips.
She didn't like him, and she wondered if he even knew exactly who she really was.
Aleks pulled out her phone, looking it over and wondering if there were any messages on it, so far nothing, which meant Zach was safe for now.
"I don't really have time to play stupid mind games with you, Ryan. And Zach is his own person...he can do what he wants." Granted she cared for him, but nobody needed to know just how much, but someone already did, and that was why she needed to keep Zach safe.
-Aleks
"Aw, c'mon," Ryan told her, "Zach might be too stupid to see it, but you're not fooling me. You've had it bad for him since Day 0, and ever since shit got bad tonight, there ain't been a minute you haven't been hanging off him."
He shrugged, "I'm all about free love, girl, but I know when something stinks. And you reek."
"You reek more than I do, so watch your tongue. I'm only concerned for his well being...I don't want him to get hurt. We've both already been hurt by Ghostface...and I just...don't want to lose anyone else."
Aleks didn't like this guy, not right now, not at this point in anything and she desperately needed an out right now.
"I'm not the bad guy here, whoever is out there killing people is! And it isn't me!"
-Aleks
"Whoa there," Ryan lifted his hands, "Lady, 'tween you and me...protesting way too much. I never said anything about you being bad..."
He shrugged, "Zach's a good guy. And he's been jerked around too many times, by too many people. Just think twice before adding yourself to the list."
"I would never hurt him! That is one thing that I would never allow..." Aleks said, frowning gently as she looked down.
She knew that it was risky, but she cared for Zach. "He saved my life already once....and right now I don't want anything bad to happen to him...believe me when I say that Ryan...I want Zach to be safe..."
-Aleks
Stavo cocked his eyebrow. "That's my reward for playing paramedic, huh?" He looked down into the abyss and sighed. "Figures." A bundle of nerves, though he did not look it, he hopped in through the trapdoor.
No death trap. What a relief.
Flicking on his lighter, he took in his surroundings, or the little he could see in the darkness. "Hold up, I see a lamp. Kerosene." Stavo opened the lamp and lit it, brightening the tiny hideaway. "Whoa." He called up. "You guys are gonna wanna see this."
***
"Yeah, Gareth (GAY-reth)," Nicodemus repeated, starting the song over. Again, it was more like he spoke the lyrics than sang them at first.
"There once
was a man
named Gareth/
With him
I shared
much bliss/
We thought
we would help
the world together/
But that
was a dream
that would never..."
He sped up the tempo.
"...come true."
Now he was playing an all new chord, the tone of the song sounding triumphant, even, as he belted the lyrics.
"We were partners, we were friends."
He added his own verbal percussion. "BOM. BOM." Nicodemus continued.
"We were the means, peace was the ends.
BOM. BOM.
We were gonna change the world of medical science."
Back to the simple strumming and reduced tempo, back to talk-singing.
"But then
we had
some clients."
He continued playing, entering a new verse.
"We had
our job
at C.R.A.P/
We wanted
to call it
a wrap/
But then
Gareth
had an idea/
One that
made me
say 'See ya...'"
He played on.
"...it's over."
Again, he sang.
"'Beat the patients, beat 'em down!'
BOM. BOM.
'Then they'll forget to frown!'
BOM. BOM.
'Come and join me, my dear, dear friend.'"
Tears welled in his eyes. The memory still stung him.
"That's when
I knew
It had to end."
The final verse now. He gathered his spirits and continued playing.
"I called him
a crazy,
violent nut/
He laughed
with a tisk
and a tut/
Then he pulled
a knife
on me/
And I jumped
to the side
to flee..."
Nicodemus closed his eyes, his heart wrenching.
"...and I cried..."
He opened his eyes, passionately singing.
"'C'mon, friend! C'mon, man!
BOM. BOM.
'We can work this out, yes we can!'
BOM. BOM.
'I promise you, we will find peace...'"
He slowed tempo yet again.
"But he
succumbed
to the beast."
Nicodemus cruised the song to an end. Somber, he sighed. "Gareth wrote that music. Never did finish it. Went koo-koo before that. Threw himself out the window." He shook his head. "I try to help so many people. And I think I have. But Gareth--my best friend. My only friend...I didn't save him."
He took a deep breath and looked up at the stars. "Sayin' that hard G brings back those memories. A lotta them good, tainted with bad mojo. 'Scuse my French, but that stinks."
-Stavo and Nicodemus
Sawyer
Sawyer hoped beyond hope that Stavo would be both careful and okay, a sigh of relief came when the lamp was lit. At his word, she entered through the trap door.
"Oh my god ..."
Phyllis listened to the song, becoming only more confused as it continued. By the end, she wasn't entirely sure what she had just experienced, except further prove that the private prison system needed abolishing, and also that any story can be made that much more urgent with the addition of an unexpected knife.
"That's awful," she said at last, "Not the song, I mean! The song was...very interesting. I mean, it must have been terrible to watch your friend become something so different and..." she paused, "Disturbed."
She wrapped her arms around herself to fend off a sudden chill, "I'm sorry."
***
Brooke had been about to exercise whatever remained of her compassion after this hell-night and offer to go ahead of Sawyer, but the plucky little Munchkin was braver than she looked. Brooke supposed she must be, to withstand that whole arm business.
"Alright, uh...coming down!" she announced, half-hoping somebody would spontaneously stop her which, of course, nobody did.
The way down was shorter than it appeared from the top. As well-dug as this little hutch was, it wasn't Descent levels of remote.
The ground beneath her feet was spongy and soft, which Brooke supposed was fitting. The place around them was round, mostly, with a domed ceiling supported by old, miraculously still-intact wooden beams. Other things stood out only in shadow.
"One second..." Brooke muttered, feeling through her pockets.
"Let there be light," she held up her phone, shining the tiny, yet sufficiently bright beam on her surroundings.
There was a cot up against the wall, a thin, crudely made thing with only the thinnest of coverlets.
"Well, somebody's been sleeping here," Brooke remarked, "And unless we have two weird hermits hanging around..."
There were a few sturdy wooden crates, in varying sizes, stacked up around the room, a work-bench that looked about as old as the struts, and a single chair positioned against the opposite earthen wall.
"Welp..." she shrugs, "We're all in mortal danger. Might as well rip the place to shreds."
***
"Well..." Ryan looked around, "Guess that makes two of us."
He took a step back from her, "Word of advice, Platinum? You may think you blend into the woodwork around here? But I'm paying attention."
***
"I can't believe this woman..." Eli muttered to himself, "I just...fucking can't believe her..."
He wasn't sure if there was anybody he could go to about his mother's impromptu departure to seek after his just-as-departed cousin. As far as he knew, Teague had sanctioned it, and the only other adults in the room were the fugitive and Dave Evans, neither of whom seemed like reliable confidantes.
There wasn't much else for it, then...
He'd have to go after her himself.
Again.
Of course.
"Wow, Eli, you're so thoughtful, looking out for me!" he muttered, pushing himself to his feet and heading out the doors, "I sure am glad I got off the pill..."
-Phyllis, Brooke, Ryan and Eli
"Don't stress it, sister," Nicodemus assured her, continuing their walk. "Gareth...he taught me there's bad in people. Ya can't beat it out, or, dare I say, sing it out. It's parta what makes us human. We just haveta accept that selfish side of us and move on. Ya don't haveta succumb..." He smiled. "...cause there's hope. I loved Gareth, but he lost hope. And when we lose hope, well, we might as well lose ourselves."
***
Stavo first searched the wooden box in the corner. Much to his surprise, he found...
"Gold doubloons," he flicked one to Brooke. "Seriously."
-Nicodemus and Stavo
Hope...
Phyllis had to admit, she wasn't feeling very hopeful. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel hope again. Micah had been as close to hope personified as anybody she'd ever known...
Had she lost herself tonight? Would she be able to tell if she had? Ironically enough, that seemed more of a thing for others to judge.
One way or another, she supposed she would soon find out.
The two of them paused in the doorway of the common hall, which had emptied significantly since their departure. Even so, Phyllis spotted her quarry.
"Thank you, Dr. Langley," she told him, "...Nicodemus. I'll remember your story, and..." she looked across the room, "I'll try to hold onto hope."
***
"The chocolate kind?" Brooke prompted, catching the coin in her hand.
No, it seemed real enough.
"Maybe he paid a visit to Fort Knox on the..." she trailed off, her brow furrowing, "Wait a second."
Was she losing her mind, or...had she seen something like this before?
-Phyllis and Brooke
"Right on!" Nicodemus cheered for her as they entered the hall. "Now if you excuse me, I have to use the restro..." He recalled that's where his patient was staying. "I must go back outside."
And so he did.
***
Stavo furrowed his brow, looking over duffel bags packed with currency from this century, thousands of U.S dollars. In the side pockets, packets of what he imagined was cocaine, marked with an all-too familiar flower.
"Really?" He turned to her. "Did you happen to find some on Redbeard's ship when you were off yachting or something?"
-Nicodemus and Stavo
Deanna just kept her eyes closed, hands no longer shaking as she pressed the barrel of her gun against her temple hard enough to dig into the flesh. She could feel the blood trickle down the side of her head, and she only hoped that it wouldn't be so bad in the end.
She wanted to forget the world, forget that her brother hated who she had become, forget that she had become the same type of monster everyone though Kieran to be.
-Deanna
Sawyer
Watching the two banter, Sawyer grabbed a gold coin and marveled at it.
"Well finders keepers right?" She asked sliding it between her fingers.
Phyllis sighed, turning from her departing confidante (and how sad it was that these were her circumstances now, wasn't it?) to her quarry.
Times like this, she often imagined what she would do if she were her own therapist, giving herself advice. She would surely tell herself to swallow her nerves and tackle it now, because the stress of knowing would always outweigh the stress of wondering what might happen.
"Audrey," she told the girl, approaching where she sat, "You've every right to turn me away. I couldn't blame you if you did, but...I wonder if I might have a word? If only to explain."
***
"I..." Brooke studied the coin, recalling the glint of burnished metal in a dark room. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, there was too much going on, too much to be done, too much at stake...
"Oh!" she gasped as the coin was snatched from her hand, "Ergo, loser's weepers," she said sardonically.
"Looks like I was right," she muttered darkly, "No coincidences."
She turned back to Stavo, "Executive order: this field trip is hereby cancelled."
***
He wasn't so much of an idiot as to call out for Deanna as he moved through the very gradually lightening darkness, not with a crazed killer (or two) running around.
So he ended up wandering to places he thought Deanna was most likely to go. There being no smoke shops or particularly high cliffs in the vicinity, this left just one place, really...
The muddy, marshy banks where wetland turned to, well, just wet.
He spotted her standing in the mud, looking out at the moon-mist on the water...pressing a weapon to her head.
"Dee!" he called out, forgetting himself, and realizing in the very split second that followed that he could as easily have startled her into firing the gun, "The fuck?"
Great job, man. Oughta be a social worker.
-Phyllis, Brooke and Eli
Audrey turned to her and had to herself from punching her. Folding her arms, she said, "You have 5 minutes."
Deanna flinched, the barrel moving away from her temple and firing off into the air as she spun her head around to look at the last person she ever expected to come looking for her. Her eyes were vacant, and she didn't seem to have flinched much from the sound of the bullet firing off.
"Eli? The fuck are you doing here?"
She still had one gun in her waistband, the one in her hand being the backup.
Instead of rushing to stand up, she just sat there staring at her cousin as she felt the blood trickle down the side of her head from how hard she had been pressing the gun against her temple. She wasn't sure why anyone would care, or why he would have been the one to find her.
"Why won't you just let me end my suffering, Kieran was willing to do it for me....but he changed his mind. So I'm here to do it for myself." She said idly, her voice uncharacteristically calm and almost eerie like as she spoke of her own death like it meant literally nothing.
Hell she wanted it this way, "Just go back, Eli...tell everyone you couldn't find me. It'll be easier that way, trust me. I'm not wanted by anyone right now, my own boyfriend broke up with me. I'm a miserable, horrid person. So why the fuck are you even here?"
A colder tone to her voice this time, he would have heard it only once before, and that had been in Atlanta.
-Deanna
"Your rates are more generous than mine," Phyllis sighed, "I...I'm sorry for your father. He..."
She tried not to think of Jensen's gun in her face, nor the reasons it had been pointed there, but of course that was just the reason she was here in the first place.
"He did not deserve what he got."
"Trying to keep you from doing something stupid!" he told her, "Clearly, I'm already losing."
He pressed a hand to a thundering heart, listening to the report of the gun blend into the night and trying not to think about how very fucked he may have just made them.
"What are you so fucking eager to die, anyway?" he demanded, "For God's sake, Deanna. What is it? Because...because Kieran wouldn't run away with you?" he turned away, running a hand down his face, "Seriously, I want to understand."
Stavo scrunched his face, confused. "What? Why? We just got here. Wait. Lemme guess. Cursed treasure." He scoffed. "Because on top of the serial killer are ghosts now. I think Noah would term that 'jumping the shark,' no?"
"Because I've killed people Eli...a bunch of them, and I liked it!" Deanna spat out angrily, pressing the gun against her temple once more, feeling the warm blood press against her temple more. She was sicker than her brother, she had no remorse over it according to him, but she did.
She shook her head, eyes staring at him. "And by the way...if Ghostface does come...I've got the weapon, so you should probably not yell at me."
Anger laced her words, but there was an underlying tone to her words as well, something not many had ever heard from her before, save Kieran and Eli, once.
"I want to die. I want my suffering to end." She told her cousin, looking at him.
-Deanna
"Can we skip the obvious?" asked Audrey, fingers tapping.
"You keep saying that," Eli took a step forward, heedless of the weapon in her hand, "You liked it...yet, for someone who liked it so much, you damn well seem eager to off yourself over it."
He looked her up and down, "Or is that even what this is about? Why don't you just tell me, Dee, just what your suffering's made of?"
***
"Obvious?" Phyllis asked softly, "I shouldn't say it's obvious."
She folded her arms, "I suppose, objectively, nobody deserves violent death. My son didn't. But I suppose that's besides the point. You're...upset with me. Because of what you heard. Rightfully so, I suppose."
She looked around, "I don't see Emma or Deanna, they...they'll need explanations as well. But, if you'll let me...I'd like to tell you why you heard your words tonight."
-Eli and Phyllis
"I would. Because I don't recall ever giving consent to be recorded."
Deanna looked at her cousin, shaking her head as she held the gun steady against her temple. "Nobody needs to live with my sins, Eli...." She commented, shaking her head as she held the gun tighter.
"I told Kieran that I liked it...that I wanted more of it...but Eli..." She faltered in her words just a moment, eyes closing before she opened them wide again and looked at him. "I got sick every single time...I may have killed, may have enjoyed it...but the guilt inside is killing me, so right now I'm going to end it all...so that the guilt doesn't consume me!"
-Deanna
Noah
"So our suspects, we need yo get close to them, and Zach you better not list a ghost as a suspect."
Sawyer
"Curses, Ghosts, are you high Brooke?"
"You didn't, and I never asked..." Phyllis lowered her head, "I can't make excuses for the ethics of what I did. But I feared that if you knew, well...that would rob the situation of spontaniety. Whatever you told me would be measured, watched, guarded..."
She shrugged, "And the point of the proceeding lost."
Figuring there was nothing else for it but to come out with it, she continued, "I'm writing a case study, Audrey. You're Exhibit A."
***
Eli studied her, "Doesn't sound like you enjoyed it, then, not really. Not if you felt guilt."
He hadn't really appreciated, before, how tiny Deanna was, and how frightened she seemed, despite her threats and her bluster, her accusations and her defiance. Somewhere she was still just Dee. Still a kid.
He wondered how much of him still remained.
"Deanna, you can feel guilt all you like, but killing yourself isn't going to do anything for it. What do you think it'll prove to them? They won't care. Half of them won't even notice and the other half will roll their eyes and talk shit before forgetting about it. You ask me, there's gotta be a better way."
***
Zach lowered his head, abashed, "I don't honestly think it's a ghost! It was just...an idea."
He considered, "...Is it racist if I say the Sanchez dude is kinda weird?"
***
"Ghosts and curses have nothing to do with it!" snapped Brooke, "This is all just too weird."
She pocketed the coin, resolving to take a more complete inventory when she was out of the proverbial (maybe even literal) crosshairs.
"Let's..."
Her eye fell on a sizable crate pushed into the shadows, against the far wall. She'd missed it earlier.
"Would it be unsporting to leave a stone unturned?"
-Phyllis, Eli, Zach and Brooke