Broken Rose

Ledbridge was already taking out his notebook as he followed Ivan into the office at the back of the library. "Brenda didn't come home last night. And she's not here for her shift either. I thought I'd talk to you before the Sheriff has you pegged as a kidnapper too."

Ivan sighed as he crossed the small floorspace of his office. The room was dark and cloying, cluttered with his own rare books as well as antiques and keepsakes. "Officer Ledbridge, I'd appreciate if you'd stop taking policing pointers from Law and Order. I was at a meeting last night for the induction of my historical society. The director of the Archives can account for my presence."

Ledbridge ducked under the antlers of a giant stag mounted on the near wall. He had almost impaled himself on it in the half-light. "I'm more interested in Brenda's presence right now." The officer stood on the other side of Ivan's desk, watching the man take a seat. What's she been like lately? New friends? New lovers? Anything different?"

Ivan clasped his hands, eyes moving to one side as he considered the question. His voice was soft and measured, as always. "The courier boy, Byron's name came up a few times, as did a Michael. She went on and on about them both, but I'm afraid I paid little attention to exactly what she said, as she has a long list of previous men in her life. Though lately she seemed slightly... skittish. What that implies, I'm sure we can both interpret differently."

Ledbridge scribbled on his notepad, glancing up as Ivan spoke the last sentence. The librarian certainly had a way with words. It was no wonder most of the police force didn't trust him. A man this eloquent had no business living on the edge of a mountain, unless he was crazy or hiding from something.

"Some of the other employees said that she'd been seen at The Big E with them both," Ivan added, "...Though I myself cannot understand why she'd be there with a minor."

Ledbridge's lip curled slightly as he took notes. Things were starting to add up to a bad situation. He knew that Brenda liked the bar on the east side of town - that she had taken solace in that dive of a place whenever her father's fumbling efforts to understand her had met with frustration. She wasn't a bad kid, just full of life.... too much life for her old man to contain in his orderly world. Like most kids in Rosalin she wanted to get the hell out, and the booze was the only ticket she could afford.

It was now a question of which guy she had gone home with, and which bed she was lying in. The Sheriff was gonna shit a brick if Ledbridge didn't find her. "She ever been late before?"

Ivan's expression seemed just as troubled as the officer's. "She's always been about ten minutes late, but it's part of her character we've come to discover. She's never missed a shift, however."

"Well, I hope it's part of your character to keep me informed if you remember anything else." Ledbridge closed his notebook and Ivan rose from his desk.

"Absolutely, Officer. Please tell me what you can, should you discover anything about what's happened to her. If you can that is... I'm worried about her, and I don't like the idea of her missing."

Ledbridge grunted and turned for the door.




As Ledbridge departed, Allura was sat at the back of the library. The yellow bunny rabbit was staring at her, its smile fixed as she played with its ear. Then suddenly her chair was jolted. Turning, she saw Amanda, the library assistant, struggling to get past with a trolley of books. "Sorry!"

"Oh no, it's okay." Allura pulled her chair in and allowed the assistant to get past. But when she turned back the bunny wasn't where she left it. Frowning, she looked to the left and saw it lying on the nearest bookshelf, flat on its back with its ears sticking out. Allura shook her head and reached over, picking the toy back up. And as she did so she had to catch a book which almost fell out after the bunny. Putting the rabbit and the book on the table, she glanced at the cover.



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The bunny smiled on as Allura sat back with the book in her hands.

And she had no idea that it was the second entry on the list that Ivan had brought up for Mr Eastriver.




* * * * * * *

...LATER THAT EVENING...​


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Reece hovered in the doorway of Dempsey's Nightclub, the flyer for the grand opening still clutched in his hand. He didn't want to be here. He hated nightclubs. The music was always too loud. The lights were always too bright. No one could ever hear what he said and he didn't drink the same drinks as other people. And there would always be girls in clubs, wearing next to nothing but getting pissed if you stared at them. He never knew what to do in places like this.

He had his black coat on - a military style like his father used to wear - and had changed into jeans and a white shirt with a celtic cross on it. It was the best he could do, given the short notice. Hunching nervously, he kept out of the way of the other clubbers and looked around for Ivan and his Historical Society friends. They had invited him out of respect for his father, and Reece felt a twisted sense of duty to come here.

He had locked the shop up an hour ago, after fixing the puppet for Farron. This was the first time he had been out in weeks, and it was perhaps for that reason, more than Ivan's pity, that he had come here.

He wanted to tell himself that he was still a normal kid who did normal things.
 
Theodore stood outside the club, adorned in ... nothing different. Black dress pants, black formal shoes, a white dress shirt with a black vest, and some clips on the edge of his sleeves to hold them above the wrist. He whistled to himself (making it all the harder to hear) as he tapped his earpiece, as if doing so would more interesting things fall out of the bug in Ledbridge's car. Unfortunately, since the car was not in the office while the other Vampire was being interviewed, he really could not gather much besides a handful of rather ephemeral static, like white fuzz that slipped through his brain and right out his nose.

He tapped the toe of his shoe against the concrete, feeling the tiniest, the smallest smidgeon, the nanometer cubed volume .. anxious. Whatever. A small grin, somewhat mysterious, devoid of emotion yet inviting people to ask about it at the same time, slipped onto his face. Cigarette still in his mouth, he hummed with his lips shut as he walked into the establishment, hands in his pockets.

"Hallo! Puppet boy!"

A drink was placed in front of the puppet-boy, held by fingers around the lip of the glass.

"You. Need a drink."

Grin. A mouthful of white teeth. Nothing abnormal. The cigarette filter was crushed in between them, and he frowned, pausing the grin to remove the cigarette and tuck it into his shirt pocket. He then resumed the grin.

"A rather classy place, right? What is .."

He sat down next to him, far enough away to not intrude in private space, yet close enough to imply camaraderie.

"the young master of a toy shop doing in a place of smut?"
 
View attachment 3695 This was exactly the setting she wanted to be in. Loud music, dancing, and a high abundance of drunk people. No one would be paying attention to someone knocking themselves smack into the woman's bathroom door. Which is exactly what Raynamia did. Pang! The blow nearly knocked the wind from her lungs. It definitely scared her to death. Mia, just because you're invisible doesn't mean you can walk through walls, she reminded herself.

Heh...puppet boy.

In an instant, Mia's head whipped to a boy dressed in all black...in a night club. As strange as that was, it was the fact that she could catch his thoughts from this great a distance. He made his way to boy that looked strangely like the puppet maker near her art shop. After squinting her eyes enough to cause her eyes to water, she confirmed his identity. Reece.

Mia slapped a hand over her mouth and growled silently in disgust. Could he hear her? She had almost forgotten the direct conversations she could have through the mind. She had forgotten a lot of things about her self. Giving a silent thanks to the DJ for increasing the volume, she made her way over to the fall wall in the blaring spotlight. No one would be able to see her there, let alone in the dark. If it weren't for her mother, she would have been home by then. But when Mia's anger was set to a boil, she needed a stimulant...maybe a drink. Oh how she wished for a drink right about then.
 
Kathleen had finally found her wallet, it was buried in the snow right under her butt print. She had dug it out of the pile of frozen water, numbing her fingers once again, then headed home to change her clothes. In place of the black leggings and thin red shirt she put on jeans and a blue sweater which was over a white shirt. Not the warmest thing she could wear but it didn't matter since she planned on staying in for the rest of the day.

That was the plan until night finally came and she found herself restless. She could hear music drifting from what she guessed was a nightclub. ~Must be new...~ She thought to herself as she surfed through the channels on the television. ~This noise would've kept me up as a child.~ Just like it was doing now. So she grabbed her hand bag, slipped on a pair of combat boots, and went out into the night and towards the music. Leaving the television on just in case someone thought to rob her. Because nobody would try and rob a house with the tv on, right?

It wasn't that long of a walk to the nightclub, and with the loud music streaming from it it was easy to find. So now here she was, standing outside of the nightclub, reading a flyer that was near the front door. The flyer informed her that this was indeed a new night club, and tonight was the opening night. ~Why am I here again?~

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Reece glanced at the drink, which he didn't recognise, then at the man, who he vaguely recalled. Theodore was that weirdo who wandered the streets and made no sense when you talked to him. Mrs Lewisham (one of his regulars) said he was on drugs, while old Mr McKindley claimed he was one of those asperger kids. Whatever the case, he made Reece nervous.

"Oh..er... that's really ki-..um.. Do you want me to p..er.. I mean... did you..er what is it?"

His voice was drowned by the music coming from the rock band on the stage. It seemed that no matter how hard he thrashed his voice he couldn't make himself clear. Reece was visibly pained by the effort and shifted nervously on his stool.

Theodore, grinning as he played with his cigarettes, took a seat and spoke over him - the way everyone did. There was something about Reece's voice that compelled people to interrupt. They didn't even know they were doing it. Reece pawed at the drink and shifted again as the man asked his next question. "Oh, er.. my ma- my frie- ma- FRIEND... Ivan? From the library he's er.. yeah, he's invited me. So I... came..."
 
Illiana was sitting at home quietly reading a book. She couldn't really concentrate on it, she was too bored and everything seemed real quiet. Closing her book she grabbed her jacket and left her house. She still hadn't met the man that she needed to speak with at the library but a lot of the art she saw was in need of the restoration she provided. She slipped her gloves on as she walked down the street and took in her surroundings. Something about the night gave everything a new look. It was a small walk into the main part of the city and she was walking silently though the park.
It was fairly quiet, aside from the echos of the night club that seemed to be somewhere close. Perhaps it was the one that was opening tonight, that she had seen in a flier earlier. She was still bored, perhaps she would try the night club after all. Perhaps the needed the distractions of people. She walked by a bench and saw a rose sitting on an isolated bench. She mildly thought that someone was proposing to their girlfriend tonight and she smiled. It seemed like it would be an amazing night that someone would never forget. She left it not daring to disturb it and moved on.

As she made her way to the club she fished out her i.d. to prove that she indeed, was of age. She went inside and felt the music through her body, her chest was pounding through the beat. Smiling she took a seat in one of the vacant chairs against the wall and watched the patrons dancing and laughing. She smiled and opened a tab with the waitress that brought her a white russian. It was most delicious, she wanted to dance but didn't really like the idea of doing it alone so instead she sipped her beverage and quietly watched.
 
It had crossed her vision, her right eye to be exact, like a sudden smear of blood, a red gash that blossomed open only to flicker into nothingness. She could have counted it as nothing, like any other normal person would, but for some reason that little rip in time, that little speck of irregularity...tore her heart in two. A pale hand moved up to her chest, hovering over her heart before her fingertip began pressing into her breast with enough intensity that it would likely leave red marks in her fair flesh. It was a painful feeling, the one in her heart. A deep sense of sorrow and longing. Half of her wanted nothing more than to have that single moment back, that pervading sense of comfort and bliss and...something else. The other half told her she should forget it. Leave it alone. To persue it would only make her remember...it would only make her hurt.

Catherine sat in the club now, near the back facing the door, a tall thin glass in front of her, the outside of it beaded with moisture. A single pale fingertip drifted down the side of the glass, beading together a line of condensation. The droplets gathered on her fingertip as she slowly pulled it away from the glass, her eyes focusing on the trembling bead, her attention drifting away from the rest of the mingling crowds. She drew her finger closer to her face, leaning against the table in fascination, the red lights of the club crowding together in the little shivering globe. It was almost as red and pure as what she had glimpsed earlier...it was almost---

Someone bumped into her table then, jolting the flimsy little thing and the droplet off her finger. The cold droplet propelled itself through the air and landed on her throat. She jolted, a shiver lancing up her spine as her focus was ripped away and the noise and fury of the rest of the room came rushing back. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she struggled to find her bearings, only to have her vision snap to attention on a pair of figures talking to each other. Both thin...both pale...

Both making her sick.
 
Theo laughed. It was a simple laugh; there was no malicious, no overtones, just a gesture he had learned to use to express his amusement. The laugh was pitched somewhere near the high end, not piercing, but childlike in its vocals.

"What is a historical man doing in a anatomical woman???" Disbelief rang through his voice as the laughter faded away. Traces of mirth remained in the upward quirk of the left side of his lip as he leaned backwards, draping an arm over the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

He took a look around.

"Seriously, this does not look like the kind of place where bookmen spend their time."

Tapped a finger on his chin. Not the one draped over the back of the chair; that one stayed where it was.

"Well, I shouldn't judge. Everyone has their own way of unwinding." He looked down at the glass, grinning full-teeth again. "Drink! Drink!"

"It's whatever you want it to be." But actually, it was salt water. His sudden insistence on the puppet-boy's imbibing of said liquid had a certain measure of reason. For a brief moment, he had felt a little jolt run across his skin. A jolt of hate, running down his spine. The urge that someone was having to ram a sharp piece of wood through his heart. Well .. perhaps he was a little on the edge today. It could have been something else.
 
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Kathleen, staring at the flyer, jumped suddenly as the door next to her swung open. It almost slammed into her but she jumped out of the way, barely keep the tip of her nose. "Hello?!" Her voice was a harsh squeak, and her mind was reeling. One moment she had been in her own little world and in the next moment she was saving her own life, or atleast avoiding a serious headache. The opener of the door rudely ignored her and kept walking to their car, leaving a very miffed Kathleen standing there.

With a frustrated sigh she grabbed onto the door, catching it by the handle before it closed all the way. And quickly entered the nightclub, flinching as the music got even louder when she was inside and the door closed behind her. She glanced around the busy place, seeing some familiar faces but none that she wanted to talk to at the moment. A woman directly across from her caught her attention, she was hard to miss since she looked about ready to hurl. ~Too much to drink already?~ She pondered to herself as she walked over to the women. Leaning to make sure she was heard she asked loudly, "Are you alright?"

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It had been a long, nearly fruitless, and nerve-wracking day for him.

Ivan had given four books to his employee when the man showed up around lunch time to pick the reserved copies. Just a simple little errand had nearly ended in complete failure due to an interruption in talking to the librarian. He had been passed off to some assistant due to a police deputy arriving. Or at least that was what the employee had divulged after a rather intense interrogation from a rather didpleased recluse. She had also revealed the deputy had been asking questions about a girl named Brenda.

Brenda. . . isn't that the Sheriff's daughter? Why is she missing?

That thought had eaten away at him during the day. Memories from his past before the accident had come flooding back in a wave of nostalgia. They had been acquaintences once a long time ago. Perhaps even a decade. . . the Sheriff had been friends with his adoptive parents so it was inevitable that the two youngsters would encounter one another. Memory told him that she had been rather cute, though he had not seen her in a long time. Or anybody really for that matter. It was a self-imposed type of house arrest. . . he didn't want anybody to have to look upon him these days. Adam felt even the servants he hired and paid to deal with him didn't deserve such a fate. But having them came in handy. . . they could send away any potential visitors for him and run all the errands.

Still as the hours had passed and that thought stayed with him, even as he read the books he had gotten on the rose, fear trying to taint his mind. A single possibility he did not want to even consider in his darkest nightmare. Except that it had been specifically a nightmare that haunted him even in the daylight. Brushing it off to the corner of his mind again and again, it was almost as if a torturous hellhound kept returning with it like some twisted game of fetch until it broke him.

What if. . . what if that girl in the nightmare. . . was Brenda? It can't be though. . . that was just a dream. A really bad dream. Besides how could that even work? I haven't left the house in days, weeks, months even. . . it's just not possible.

Yet it would return again.

. . . But what if it was real? Should I say anything? Should I call the sheriff? No he'd think I was crazy. Even if he's tearing up the town looking for his daughter he wouldn't believe some. . . some MONSTER killed his daughter, tore her heart out, and ATE it last night. There's just no way in hell anyone would believe that. . .

He considered even calling the priest from his old orphanage over. Even if he didn't confess anything to the old man, he could ask for that cross back which he had hung in his room. After all they said it had come along with him when he was brought to the orphanage. So what would be wrong with taking it back? Adam had left it out of good will to God for answering his prayers for adoptive parents. Now they had been taken from him. Yet now he longed for comfort from the somewhat large silver cross with such ornate etchings and engravings.

Tormenting him throughout the day, it destroyed his appetite despite an alluring selection. Seeing that nightmarish beast in his mind every time his thoughts were not constantly focused on something else. He barely ate enough to stop his stomach from growling. Drinking did nothing to help either other than make him sleepy once the evening had come again. While everyone else was likely out at a new nightclub he could have cared less about, Adam had crawled into bed. Just minutes before passing out in his lavish bed with his laptop next to him in it, he started to play a song which sometimes soothed him in the darkness of the mansion.



Farther and farther he slipped into unconsciousness as the song played. It seemed a mixture of the liquor and the lyrics had worked enough magic to ease the troubled young man in bandages. Eyes that stared out the window into the darkness of the wintery woods started to drift closed. Shimmering blue surrounded by white was replaced by the skin of eyelids that appeared unscathed. In fact as he tossed some in the beginning of his slumber a few bandages came loose to reveal patches of the face underneath. Apparently some of the skin around his eyes and the uppermost part of his cheek bone were actually intact. But it was hardly enough under his own scrutinizing gaze to make up for what had been lost in the fire.

Perhaps merely a few minutes had passed before a force that was at once spectral, spiritual, and astral appeared on the Easteriver estate. Quickly enough it had left those isolated grounds far behind for the woods once more. Would it reach the town of Rosalin tonight? Or perhaps become lost yet again in the wilderness and witness another grizzly sight? Either way it certainly carried itself without any inhibitions about being spotted. If one got close enough the somewhat transparent phantasm resembled a face no one in the town had seen for quite some time. Rags clothed it and where they failed, loosely fastened bandages hung almost artistically from the limbs. More than anything it appeared as neglected, forgotten, and abused as some of the toys from Reece's shop.

Strangely enough, it seemed to be walking rather than floating. . .
 
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Reece flinched at Theodore's odd laughter, then started laughing along, oblivious to the joke.

"What is a historical man doing in a anatomical woman???"

"Er..."

"Seriously, this does not look like the kind of place where bookmen spend their time."

"No, heh! Reece picked up the drink Theodore had brought for him and swirled it slightly.

"Well, I shouldn't judge. Everyone has their own way of unwinding."

"Yeah." Reece nodded along, as if the man had said something profound.

"Drink! Drink! It's whatever you want it to be."

Reece nodded quickly and lifted his glass to his lips. As he did so he noticed Kathleen entering the club and speaking to another girl. He caught her eye and gave her a wave, trying to look cool as he downed his drink...

"BLUUUGHAAAH!" A stream of salt water shot across the room and Reece scrambled out from behind the table, dashing across the club towards the bathroom as he heaved and wretched. He barely made it before collapsing over the sink and filling the mens room with the noise of painful vomitting.
 
"!! No! ... no .... " Theodore stared helplessly as the boy produced a fantastic jet of salt water. This was even more than he had hoped for. He quickly got up from his seat and swiftly moved into the restroom, gliding over the floor with alarming alaricity.

"My, my!" He kept laughing, patting the boy gently on the back.

"It was just salt water, you know! Although to some people it might taste somewhat bitter ... Still! What a fantastic reaction .."

His face suddenly seemed to look worried, even guilty.

"Are you ...

Allergic to salt?"

From behind his back he produced yet another glass of clear liquid. "Drink this!" It was simple sugar water.
 
The day slowly went by and before long Chrys left the library, having read all the books she had picked from the shelves and leaving with ones she had just grabbed. She had always been a quick reader, especially since all she had to do was run her fingers over the pages. With her dog at her side the blind woman made her way back to the shop that her parents owned, it being for flowers since her mother wasn't good at much else other than gardening. She joined then for a little bit, being bombarded with questions about where she had wandered off too since her mother and father were so proective. She answered them simply and enjoyed their company before the both went off to do their own things, leaving her alone once more.

It did not take her long be become bored with her house and she knew that it was now dark out now. Her heard that there had been a new clud opened but she took no interest in such things, what was the point of going to a crowded club when she couldn't even sit around and watch people? No, she had other plans for that night. It was becoming winter and the snow had already started falling, meaning that as soon as the heavy snow hit she would not be leaving the house at all, save for going to the store or seeing a doctor if needed. She wanted to go to the forest once more, to enjoy the quiet of nature before she was shut off from the outside for her own safety.

Letting her dog lay in its bed she grabbed her walking stick and slipped on her thick heavy sweater,knitted mittens, wool scarf and leggings and her boots. She left her sunglasses behind for even she could tell that it was night out, the temperature had dropped greatly and it was rather silent, save for the stray bird that had yet to take the hint and leave to warmer climates. She walked down the road slowly, her stick running over the snow covered ground as she made her way toward the forest. It wasn't hard getting there, not when the trees helped her along the way, she would have been lost without them, but that is what trees did for their kind, they always helped, even if you were a halfbreed. Of course, no one else in the city knew, it was not easy to explain that you were part wood nymph and that your mother spent most of her life as a tree. That was not important now, now it was time for her peace.

She arrived in the forest and though it seemed silent to a regular person, to her it was filled with sound. The old voices of the trees bounded between each other as they all welcomed the young girl and kindly directed her to the usual sitting area, minding to tell her if there was something in her path. She noted that they all seemed worried though, their voices let on more that one would think for a tree. She did not question it though, if the trees felt it important to tell her than they would, they always did. She went on with the trees, speaking out loud as if she sat upon a snow covered log, her walking stick resting next to her.
 
The entity seemed to know nothing about how trees could talk despite the abstractness of the presence itself. What the trees would say about the phantasm could certainly vary from dangerous to harmless. Had they witnessed it before? Many were the nights it had likely wandered out in the woods without caring for the hour or the season. Instead it appeared there was some sort of will that drove it onward. . . one strong enough to create such an intense spiritual force.

Snowflakes passed through the apparition, while no footprints were being left behind. It seemed as though this entity did not exist. Yet there it was right before the eyes of any who could see. Undeniably it walked the earth in search of something, giving off the tragic feelings of loss only those who had grieved over dead loved ones would truly understand. Even to the blind it could probably be sensed in some fashion. Perhaps some sort of a sixth sense would come in handy? Or would they too sense the aura of motions it gave off, without being able to even see it?

A voice drifted through the chilly air to it's ears and the phantasm switched directions to follow it to the source. One thing was clear now, it could certainly listen to and discern the sounds of the surrounding world. That voice which spoke aloud continued to draw in the curious spectre. Feminine sounding for certain, it must have reminded the entity of something from the past. From before it had taken on such a haggard appearance.

Soon, eyes that shone like two tiny stars gazed upon a girl who sat alone in the woods talking to herself.
 
Chrys continued to talk with the trees happily, her bubbly personality slipping out as she spoke of the weather and what she had done that day. The trees loved to listen it seemed, and they told her of the days in the forest, the peace and quiet with the occasional couple passing through or a wandering deer that had picked at the gress near their roots. However, the trees went silent for a moment and Chrys couldn't help but wonder why, it was then that she felt a presence of sorts, something that was there but at the same time was not. She felt herself strighten a bit as she turned her head slowly, doing so the she could hear a little better.

"Hello? Is someone there?" She said plainly, her voice not frightened but curious.

She had lost any type of fear long ago, fear only held a blind person back. She wanted to be able to walk in a confident stridedown the street, even if she had to do it with a dog she would! She waited for an answer, the trees staying silent to allow her to focus on her current target, they were polite like that. She then looked up to the sky for a moment as she felt snow hit her cheeks, taking notice that it waws now snowing and had been for awhile.

"Ah, Snow...I guess I made a mistake...How silly of me." She spoke softly, laughing a bit at herself as she assumed that the presence she felt was infact the change in weather.
 
Until now the entity had been progressing at a steady pace, but when the words were specifically directed at it that changed. Ever so briefly it simply stood there in silence as everything in the material passed right on through. Yet it was strange how, when the wind blew, the specter's bandages would actually move in the same direction. Perhaps it was just good fortune the girl could not see what stood less than twenty feet behind her under the glow of the moon.

In a way it at least guaranteed readiness against that monster in case it appeared yet again.


". . . Do I know you?"
 
"Oh! There is someone!" Chrys said slightly surprised as she thought that she had made a mistake. "Well, I'm not sure if you know me...Do I possibly know you?" She asked in return.

She had no idea that someone was there, she certainly hadn't heard anything like footsteps. She had only sensened something around her but hadn't been completely sure in truth. She turned toward the voice and smiled a bit, her pale eyes glowing in the night as she spoke once more to the stranger with her.

"You can come closer if you like, I don't bite."
 
Upon hearing her question the entity moved closer for a couple reasons. One of them being that staring at the back of someone's head from far away at night did not make identification easy. It had helped when she turned around. But the second was pure curious nature. No one had ever spoken to the phantasm before tonight.

What made tonight any different?

Step by step it approached without displacing any snow and stopped about arm's length from the girl. A few moments of silence went by as it simply stared at the girl with an investigative gaze. Memories did not come flooding back of some past relationship. Never before had they met . . . that much was certain. Perhaps this had nothing to do with last night's nightmarish encounter. The young girl did not inspire fear at all.

"I don't think we've ever met before."

Barely a second or two went by before he spoke again.

"Could I sit with you, perhaps?"
 
"Ah, in that case it is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Chrysanthemum. What is yours?" She asked as she nodded her head to his question. "And yes, you can sit with me. I'm just enjoying the nature." She said kindly to him as she grabbed her stick and moved it so that the stranger had a place to sit.

She seemed rather excited to have the company, even though only moments before she was talking with the trees. They were still silent now, none of them seemed to think that the man she was talking to was a threat or anything. She was glad though, she would have hated to leave so soon because someone dangerous had come around.
 
"It's. . ."

How strange it was for this entity to be asked it's name. Usually a person would not take to the phantasm's appearance so naturally. Why wasn't she screaming or frightened? At the very least the question caused a momentary pause and brought on silence that bordered on awkward. One could almost believe that it did not remember a name. Perhaps it was choosing one instead? No. . . it had a name. From the foggyness of it's current state the creature finally pulled out a name.

". . .it's Adam."

On the other hand, the will which granted the entity it's enigmatic existence was questioning itself. For instance, why did she not know his name? Such a unique appearance usually told anyone in town who he was when they saw him. Almost everyone had at least heard of the tragic accident of the Eastriver family and the current state of their adopted child who had survived. It wasn't until he noticed her move the walking stick that he finally clocked her current condition.

Had anyone else been watching they might have been amazed at what came next. Despite how everything had passed through it before, when the entity sat down beside her it did not phase through. Strange that it could interact with some things and not others.

". . . Aren't you frightened to be out alone this late?"
 
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