ELISAGE
It was a slow, sleepy Sunday, the sun high in the sky, brilliant and warm. Afternoon broke cloudless, and before her shift had even ended, Elisage had one hand untying her apron, the other gathering the take-out she'd had set aside for her a short while earlier. Clocking out, she left T&Js and stepping out into the fresh air and incandescent brightness, she breathed in deeply. Shorter shifts were always a benefit to her, given the constant ache in her leg, but today her gratitude had less to do with her physical drama and far more to do with what she hoped was another step in bridging that gap between loneliness and companionship. She'd sat and talked with Anton for a good while after the fireworks faded, and while she was sure she was admittedly overeager, there was something so entirely… enthralling about the concept of having a friend. Not just a friend. A friend her mother and father couldn't buy off, or control, or scare away.
It might've been desperation - it was true she could feel it crack like a whip when he'd first sat down beside her - but she was determined not to let it fade into oblivion before she had the chance to wreck it all on her own.
Or, you know… not do that…
It was a short bike ride to the graveyard, and with the takeout in the basket of her yellow Schwinn, Sage approached the sprawling field of markers and tombstones, she slowed to a stop, and hopped off. It occurred in that moment, rather than earlier when the plan made sense, that she had no blasted idea where Anton could be found… and standing beside the brightly colored bicycle with a styrofoam container clasped in her hands, she felt her cheeks flush with sudden and belligerent embarrassment.
"...God, sometimes, Sage… you're a total idiot."
The weather was beautiful. Anton could admit that much. Besides, it wasn't as if he was
blind to the more positive aspects of life; rather, he lacked the proper personality tools to appreciate it in full. That and he lacked the free time to do so.
Freaking cemeteries and their stupidly dense soil.
Sweat rolled down Anton's face, arm muscles tensing as he reeled the shovel back and jammed it into the dirt, a grimace resting naturally on his lips. His boss had been breathing down his neck as of recently about picking up his digging pace, as if the woman expected the free slots to be occupied soon. Whatever--she was nothing short of creepy. Not mean, per say, but overly fickle and fretting all over the damn place. It gave Anton whiplash.
Regardless, he'd managed to make decent progress, standing before hole number five of the morning and having many more to go… "Kill me," he muttered. Then paused, just taking a moment to mentally scold himself for that horrifically ironic joke, and went straight back to shoveling.
Well, almost. And yet, he froze part way as the crunching of leaves and dying detritus hit his ears. He squinted… The gentle creak of wheels, that couldn't have been anything else. Anton didn't really care about people visiting the cemetery; they were likely paying respects to a tombstone somewhere. As long as they didn't get in the way of his work, then everything was fine. But still… this was an excuse to stop torturing his body, if only momentarily.
Slowly, Anton paced in the direction of the noise, his boots slapping noisily against withering grass and thriving flora, before circling around the corner of Moss Creek Cemetery's center Crypt and slowing to a stop at the familiar sight. His brow arched, if only slightly.
"Uh…" He raised the shovel awkwardly. "Elisage? Hey. You…" He looked around. "You lost?"
She'd been so engrossed in her momentary internal debate that Sage nearly leapt clean of her skin when a voice outside of her head interjected her self deprecating thoughts. Spinning, she caught sight of the familiar face and for a little more than half an awkward second, she couldn't remember why she'd come in the first place.
How stupid was she? He probably HAD lunch already. Hell… maybe he didn't eat lunch? What if he was a vegetarian. Or a vegan? Or one of those people that was grossly offended by the sight of styrofoam… What if he thought she was hitting on him? Was that even a thing? Did people bring other people lunch to hit on them?
Cheeks bright, Sage cleared her throat when the gap between words became sufficiently uncomfortable enough that even she noticed it, "...H-hey. No! No, not lost. I uh…" Scratching the back of her neck, she looked down and at the same time, held out the container, "I thought maybe you ate. .. Ah! No. I mean, of course you eat. Everyone eats. What I meant was, I thought you might want to eat… Um… Payback, for the sweater, you know?"
Whatever stealthiness Anton tried to adopt into his expression, all of it flew straight out of the window. Emotions played across his face like a Hollywood debut film; first came the bubbling confusion, then it shifted to concern, vaguely wondering if Sage would remember to breathe anytime soon. Finally, his countenance settled on pleasant surprise, borderline disbelief. He eyed the styrofoam container in her hands a moment, finding himself speechless while trying to register everything that just happened.
Then a huff escaped. Perhaps a chuckle, but it consisted of nothing more nor less than a breath. The corner of his lips quirked with amusement. "I mean… thanks, but," cautiously, he accepted the container from Sage while jamming the shovel into the ground, allowing it to stand upright, "I don't think being a decent human being needs payback or whatever… Especially when it leads you to a graveyard." And yet, he couldn't help the way his gaze searched for any visible signs of fatigue or hobbling. He almost felt like an asshole for doing it. "You don't wanna sit or anything?"
Chuckling herself, a soft, nervous sound, Sage shrugged, "I don't mind. I think decency should be paid back, you know? It's something that ought to be natural, but now adays? It's kinda rare, and, well, I guess I just think that's something we oughta reward." Shoulders bouncing in a shrug, she looked around, "Don't mind the graveyard, too much, either."
Blinking, her eyes twitched back and she laughed lightly, "Now I sound like a crazy person who writes creepy Harry Potter fanfics. I just mean cause it's… well, it's quiet, and kinda peaceful." Pausing, she gave a small nod, "I could sit, yeah."
Anton bit the inside of his cheek. He… probably shouldn't mention that Shilia used to read and write Harry Potter fanfic like crazy. It was for the best anyway. He mirrored Sage's shrug. "Well, guess I won't turn down free food but uh… no more IOU's or whatever between us. Just gets too hard to keep up after a while," he muttered.
At Sage's agreement to sit, Anton nodded and approached the Crypt. The steps leading up to it were surprisingly clean and vibrant in the sunlight, radiating a tender sense of vitality. A pair of squirrels chittered, perched near the sloping roof of it and staring down at them curiously. Anton didn't pay them any mind and seated himself on a bench located right next to the eloquent piece of architecture.
Then paused, the gears in his head turning.
Fall had done a thorough job of decorating Moss Creek with fallen leaves and twigs, and the benches around the cemetery weren't any different. Anton stood up and took a moment to brush the surface clean, yet his face pinched, unsatisfied with the halfhearted attempt. He peeled off his uniform jacket and draped it along the half of the seat that he wasn't occupying and finally sat back down. "Sorry," he said, eyes trained on opening the container, "Shit was gonna bother me."
"...See, here's the problem with you…" Sage started, smiling gingerly as she sank down next to him, "You say stuff like 'no more IOUs' and you don't think being decent deserves paybacks, and then you go full 19th Century on me, and expect me not to be impressed?" The smile folded back into a grin, and leaning back, she sighed, "I'm gonna do my best, cause you asked, but somebody needs to tell you, you ain't just ordinary 'decent'."
Looking up into the tree overhead at the squirrels bouncing back and forth between the branches, she couldn't help but find a funny correlation with her own thoughts, "Thing is… I know I haven't been here that long, but… I guess I've been finding it harder than I expected, to meet people."
The problem with him…
Anton could admit that maybe, just maybe, his heart had a tendency to work much faster than his brain. The moment he heard Sage's initial words, a hollow dread gnawed at the base of his gut, shoveling away at his insides far better than he could ever do on a shift. Did he fuck up already? Christ--this was why Shilia shouldn't have pushed him to "make friends". It never turned out right. It never…
But then Sage kept talking. And Anton kept listening. And somewhere along the way, his faith in his own intelligence took a solid blow.
Way to assume like a dumbass, dumbass. He just barely held in a scoff, opting instead for focusing on Sage. "I mean, I wouldn't say
19th century… And I don't know if that's a good thing or not, but I'll deal with that." Not just ordinary decent? Well, judging by the lack of malice in her tone, he would tentatively guess that she meant it in a complimenting way, though he failed to understand how.
It was fine. Screw it. At least she was doing most of the talking, because he couldn't uphold conversation to save his life.
As he finally popped the container open to sneak a peek, a response escaped him swifter than force of habit. "Meeting new people is always hard." He glanced her way, the default dullness of his eyes becoming more prominent. "They're not you so… It's a lot of guessing and praying."
"It's a good thing." She confirmed, with a light nod, "And pretty sure."
Pausing, she watched a squirrel's limber leap up to a higher branch, frowning lightly, "You're not wrong… It's definitely not something I relish in…" A brow quirked, Sage canted her head slightly to the side, giving off a small glint of confusion, "They're not me?"
Anton matched her head tilt and confusion, to the point of where they mirrored one another like the squirrels up above. "Well… yeah. They're not. You're not me. Some guy on the sidewalk isn't me. No one's… me. So I'm going in blind." However, after a moment of thought, the tiniest hint of epiphany struck him and his features smoothed over with the sentiment. "Well I mean… I guess it was a
little easier with you than the others but… still. That concert wasn't helping."
"I think I know what you mean." With a small laugh, Sage leaned back again, "...I um… where I grew up, it wasn't exactly like here. There was nothing
small about it. Not the town, or the houses… or the egoes. I had friends, but they were never… there was never really any sense that they actually cared beyond what…" Biting her lip, sitting up a little, Sage leaned down to rub her leg, "Beyond what I give them. When I say a quiet Sunday back home was a gala event on my parent's yacht, you might get the picture. People aren't exactly inclined to be real with you when they look at you and see dollar signs. Part of why I left, I guess."
Anton had given up on shielding his emotions around Sage quite some time ago. He… definitely didn't see her in that light; as someone who lived so lavishly and lived weekends on yachts or attending galas. She seemed so… well, he couldn't place the word, but it was the opposite of what he associated with rich snobs. But, then again, he was currently sitting on top of a hypocritical fire, so he banished the surprise altogether. "...Then they weren't friends. I mean, doesn't sound like it to me, anyway. Or, wait, I don't have room to say that…?" Was that considered rude? Maybe? Maybe not? Fuck it--he'd already opened his mouth at this point, so there was no going back. "But uh, yeah. Screw them. They should've seen Elisage, nothing else. Well, Elisage, the dork who can't let go of IOU's."
For the first time in a while, something cheeky touched his smile, but it vanished far quicker than it came, painfully short-lived. That expression felt weird on his face.
Nose wrinkling, a laugh escaped, and covering her mouth, Sage shook her head, "I can't believe you just called me a dork… And I'd be able to let them go if you'd stop being such an ama--" Pausing, she sat up slightly, and as her words trailed off, her expression sobered, "Woah… Did you… do you hear that?"
Her gaze shifted then, past Anton and towards the crypt, "...What the hell…?"
Oh--he made her laugh? Holy shit. Anton didn't think he was capable of pulling that off with
anyone (well, if he didn't count his sister, but he was well aware that she tossed out way more pity laughs than genuine ones). However, the triumph slammed into a brick wall upon watching Sage's sudden shift in mood, her question pulling his lips into a frown. "Uh…" He strained his ears, but all he could pick up were those same squirrels skittering about and overpowering the distant chirp of blue jays. "No? What am I supposed to be hearing?" he asked.
Rising, almost instinctively, she took a step closer to the steps of the crypt "Someone was… Or… at least…" Blinking, her eyes shifted back to Anton, "...Can animals get inside these?" She asked, gesturing to the wrought iron in front of the crypt door, "I swear to God… I just heard someone screaming."
By this point, lunch was completely forgotten.
Brow creasing, Anton set the container aside and followed Sage, then folded his arms. His gaze flickered back and forth from Sage to the crypt. Then back to Sage. The perplexity radiating from him was so palpable that one could slice into it with a butter knife. "I mean, small ones, yeah. Sometimes I gotta scare off the squirrels or a garden snake, but that's about it…" But then Sage mentioned screams.
The concern doubled.
Cautiously, Anton raised a hand towards Sage and pressed the back of it to her forehead. "And you didn't… catch anything on the way here? Right?"
Barely registering the touch, Sage shook her head, "N-no… I… I know I sound crazy, Anton, but… but I know what I just heard. Or at least… I don't know what else that could've been." Looking over to him, her eyes were laced with deep, weighted concern, "...Someone was screaming."
Anton pulled away from her, struck with confliction the moment she pinned him down with that look. Christ--there was no faking that level of emotion. Not that he expected her to be lying, but even then, whatever she apparently heard, it rang as a powerful truth in her reality. Sighing, he snatched up the shovel and glanced wearily at the crypt. "Okay… I don't hear whatever you're going on about but… we can poke around, if that'll make you feel better."
He prayed it would. That concern in her eyes damn near killed him on the spot.
Slowly, he started circling the crypt and prodding at the walls with the shovel, waiting for something to happen or react. He kinda felt like an idiot, but he figured his dignity could take a backseat. Just this once. Upon looping around to the back of the structure, he scrutinized the gathering of shrubbery and vines crawling up the wall, deeply intertwined with aged concrete.
And then he squinted.
Something seemed… off. "...Hey, Sage. You see that?" He pointed at the anomaly with his shovel. Dead in the center of the back wall, a family of vines and leaves held an unnatural curve between them, as if swerving around an empty spot. Nothing about it really stood out to Anton, but he couldn't for the life of him understand why the foliage had such an odd formation.
Following close, Sage peered past Anton's shoulder at the unusual mass of greenery. Without the sinking weight of dread in her stomach, she might've found a logical explanation for it, but then and there, it seemed more sinister than a bald man in a dark suit, stroking a white cat. Slowly, Sage stepped a little closer to the anomalous vegetation, "...That's definitely not norm--"
Pausing, suddenly, Sage swung back to Anton, gesturing to the spot she'd just stepped on, "Come stand here, a sec."
Anton blinked. "Uh… okay?" He didn just as Sage asked and waltzed over, his grip on the shovel as tight as ever. He had no qualms about cracking anyone in the face with it-- "What the Hell?" He stared down at the soil beneath his feet, then gently shuffled from foot to foot, testing the surface. His frown deepened. "...This feels way softer than it should be," he muttered, a hint of nerves bubbling up his spine, "And this isn't from recent burial, either. I know what that feels like, this isn't it… Wouldn't make sense to put something right behind this crypt anyway."
Anxiety crept along her spine like ivy, and absently, she shifted slightly closer to the man with the shovel, giving a terse nod with no small sense of discomfort. Easing forward, she crouched in front of the strange spot, reaching out a hand to touch the stonework, "...Something weird, here, too… Like…" Swallowing, her eyes drifted back to Anton, "Like something hit it…"
Rising, dusting her hands off, she turned fully to the gravedigger, "...Can you get inside?"
Anton shook his head, a hint of apology easing into his eyes. "Don't think so. Not right now, anyway. I don't have the keys on me…" Although, now that he was thinking about it, he wondered why his boss was so strict about that as well. She only gave him access to those keys on predesignated work days, but those were few and far in between. Again, Anton tried not to get hung up on the details like that; it just wasn't his place to question it.
But now, he was having second thoughts.
"If I remember right, I'll have to clean this out tomorrow anyway. We… Well," hesitation crawled under his skin, "I don't want to drag you into anything stupid. We're probably being paranoid, right? Assholes sneak into the cemetery and bust up property all the time. That's probably what it is."
"...People screwing around in graveyards for fun don't usually scream for help, Anton." Slightly pale, Sage chewed anxiously at her lip, "...Wh-what if tomorrow's too late? What if someone got hurt or… or locked down there? What if they… need help, now?" She couldn't imagine what a weight that would be, if they discovered something awful the following day. Something they might have prevented, "How pissed would your boss be if those keys went missing?"
Anton's cheeks swelled with a heavy sigh, hands on his hips as he envisioned just how downright
livid his boss would be. "...Very pissed. And I'm sugarcoating. Sage, I get what you're saying, I really do, but…" He ran a hand through his short, disheveled mess of hair. "I don't have the slightest clue where she'd have them. When I tell you this woman is secure… it's on an insane level. Something tells me I'm lucky enough to even know she lives in Moss Creek."
As he spoke, he crouched before the wall and raised both hands. Then froze, trapped by crippling caution, before forcing himself to lean in. He pressed his ear to the wall, eyes sliding shut with deep concentration. He hadn't heard any of the screams Sage was talking about. Maybe, just maybe, if he picked up on the sound as well, he'd feel less shitty. And she'd feel less alone about all of this…
Nothing.
Anton's jaw clenched in frustration. He sighed again and pulled away. "This is just… insane." The agitation threatened to swell within him and spill over the edges, but he refused to succumb to a stupid tantrum, especially not in front of Sage. She was shaken up as it was. Stupid… Stupid, stupid,
stupid--
In a burst of impulse, he slammed a hand to the wall. Not terribly aggressive, but with a level of impact that stung his palm and would leave behind aches in his skin. The moment contact was made, a noise pierced the air.
A crack. Very subtle. Very small.
Anton stiffened. "...Okay, I didn't hear a scream, but you heard
that too, right?"
She didn't need to hear anything. She knew what she'd heard before, even if she wanted, desperately, to be wrong. And she knew even despite the slight twitch of uncertainty in her mind that something about the wall was wrong… Something was off.
"...C-can I see that shovel?" She asked, a little uneasily, "My leg…" She gestured vaguely to it, "Starting to hurt…"
Not thinking much of it, Anton was quick to hand her the shovel, more than willing to assist her problems with balance by any means necessary. "Sure… Do you need to go sit back down?"
"I'm so sorry… and I swear I will pay for it…" She said quickly, vaguely, and then without much warning, Sage gripped the shovel and swung, hard and fast at the wall.
Only to be met by a loud
ting and a sharp pain that vibrated up her arms as her sudden momentum was stopped dead, "AUGH! That… did
not work the way I needed it to…" She muttered with a grimace, before sheepishly holding the shovel back towards Anton.
Anton's eyes widened as she drove the shovel into the wall, jolting as if he was about to stop her. However, she acted before he could and all he could do was wince at the sound; he could only imagine how much the backlash must've hurt. "Elisage. Why would you-? I could've-? You know what." He accepted the shovel and grounded himself, boots digging into the soft soil. He tensed, then drove the metal head forth with a grunt, instantly shattering off bits and pieces of concrete. "Oh… You weakened it for me. Thanks."
As he chipped off as much of the crumbling structure as he could, something slowly revealed itself to the pair. Where there was once a smooth indention now resided an elaborate crater running several inches deep. Anton squinted and tilted his head, but he couldn't quite tell what in the world could've left behind such a shape. "You know, it'd be great if this day started making some sense," he grumbled.
As the wall gave way, Sage's grimace of pain flickered to appreciation, before evolving into abject confusion. Staring at the gaping crater, she shook her head, "I'd settle for just a little less creepy…"
She might've questioned what she heard, before. Maybe it was an animal, or someone shrieking at their kid in a grocery store, or just her wild imagination… but this? This was too coincidental…
Something terrifying was going on, "...We need to get into this crypt, Anton…"
"I know," he breathed, eyes still trained on the wall and his mind racing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't conjure up a mental image of the object that could've imprinted itself into the crater. It was driving him insane. "...But it can't be today, Elisage. I'm sorry, but it just can't. I don't…" He held his hands out, almost helpless in the motion. "I don't have
access. Tomorrow, I will. Tomorrow, we'll go in and… And maybe bring back up, too. I just don't like any of this."
She wanted to argue. To beg. To plead. Not because she thought it would do anything, but because the idea of
not doing anything was so… difficult to accept. She heard a sound that was going to haunt her. A sound she could've gone her whole life never hearing without any difficult. And knowing now that what she'd heard might not be the strangest part of all of this… it was going to linger in the worst way.
But hearing the desperation, she knew Anton could do no more, and she wouldn't put that pressure on him.
Reaching out, she gently cupped her hands to his, giving a brief squeeze, before releasing them again, "I know. It's okay. T-tomorrow. Just… Anton… please… Be careful? Something weird is going on, and I don't like the idea of you being out here alone, right now. Promise you'll be careful?"
Anton nodded, his posture deflating in equal parts relief and guilt. He knew how badly all of this was eating away at Sage's peace of mind. Of course he did. It was so painfully obvious and he definitely shared the sentiment… Dammit. Goddammit. He hated everything about this. Biting the inside of his cheek, Anton nodded and squeezed back right before Sage released him. "Remember how I said… we gotta let the IOU's go? I lied. I owe you to stay safe, so you owe me the same thing." Something bitter lurked in his tone. "And trust me… after tomorrow, I'm not coming back to this job. Something's beyond messed up here and I don't want to be a part of it."
Again, a twitch of discomfort traveled her features. Some friend she was… Two days in and she'd cost him a job. And what if it turned out to be nothing? What if all of this really was just her wild imagination playing games with her head.
But even in her doubt she knew it wasn't. She knew what she'd heard wasn't just real, but sinister, and somehow, she couldn't disagree with his sentiments, "...I'll see you tomorrow." She said instead, and for a moment she hesitated, before pushing onto her toes to give him a brief, tight hug.
Letting go, she turned and made her way carefully down the small incline and back to her bike.
Anton had stiffened up in surprise from the hug, his hands raised and uncertain what to do with them. Unfortunately, his brain was unable to register at an acceptable pace and he found himself unable to return the embrace in time. "Uh, yeah," he muttered while watching Sage leave, the shovel in his grasp once more. "...Tomorrow."
Tomorrow.
He wasn't ready for any of this.
