Tales of the Lost Ones I: The Babadook

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Carlos Dawn: The Boy With Many Secrets, yellow

Carlos was having a bad dream, he could tell that he had either passed out or was knocked out. He had been having these dizzy spells for a while now. His doctor told him it was from stress; it just so happened that everything came flying back to him when he opened the door. All the horrible things that his father did to his siblings and him. He could see a black shadow coming at him, it was moving slowing but fast in a way. Carlos tried to run from it but it still seemed to be behind him. Then Carlos saw himself being tied to his bed with his father's belts. He saw the black shadow holding a bucket, in the bucket was boiling water. Carlos tried to look away but he couldn't. The black shadow turned around and all Carlos could see was a ghoul like beast looking back at him. Then he saw his father staring at him laughing evilly at him.

Carlos woke up shaking and looking around. He started to scream, he didn't know where he was. Carlos was freaking out. "Where the hell am I?! What the fuck is going on?!" Carlos didn't realize that he was in his old house of torture, he couldn't comprehend what was happening.
 
When Carlos finally awoke, Oliver's hand was gripping Art's so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. The house was in shambles, looking as if a tornado had blown through it. That, and the memories associated with the house, were causing Oliver to nearly panic, his mind awhirl. He was trembling slightly, his eyes darting around wildly behind the lenses of his glasses.

Then, as Carlos awoke shouting and freaking out, Art moved Oliver to sit down on one of the other couches, unknowingly putting him in the recliner Charlston used to sit in whenever he was reprimanding him. Jumping as he realized where he was sitting in, he shot to his feet, shaking worse now. "No," he said, his voice stern, and he firmly sat himself down on the floor.

When he had calmed himself down enough, he said to Carlos, "You're inside...you fainted when Rosario opened the door, a-and I guess I'm...not prepared for this either..." He looked down into his lap, biting his bottom lip. Hearing noise upstairs, he glanced up and muttered something about rats, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Want some water...?" he asked Carlos nervously, getting up to his feet. "God, I hope the pipes work..."
 
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Rosario followed her brothers, hoping that everything would be better once they got into the room.
That, however, is where she was wrong.
In the panicking moment after Carlos fainted, she didn't realize she was in the old, beaten up living room, complete with Charleston's infamous recliner. She hated that recliner. She hated that room. She hated this house. She had completely blocked it from memory once she left and now it had all flooded back in a tsunami of emotion.
She stayed still and seemingly emotionless, standing in the doorway and watching as Carlos awoke in horror. She came to his side and soon watched as Oliver started to panic. As much as it broke her heart to watch her siblings being in such a state of fear, there was only one of her. She stayed by Carlos, assuming that Art had a good grasp on calming down Oliver.
 
Oliver walked to the kitchen, Art following close behind. However, the blonde stopped when he saw the state the kitchen was in. It was in a worse state than the living room had been, and Oliver nearly turned back around. "Oh, my God," he muttered, glancing at the dirty dishes piled up in the sink and the trash that was strewn about. "I left my baby brothers and sisters to this?" Oliver asked no one, his voice cracking. "I must be the worst brother ever..." He began sniffling, his shoulders shaking some.

Art immediately went to him and wrapped his arms around him. "Shh, baby, it's okay," he whispered calmingly, rubbing his hand up and down his back. "You're not the worst...he hurt you too, it's not your fault that you wanted to leave the moment you could."

When Oliver had calmed down, he shakily went to the sink and found a plastic cup in one of the cupboards that didn't look entirely dirty. He turned the water in the sink on, which at first came out brown and flaky. Eventually, though, it turned clear, and Oliver filled the cup with it.

He went back to the living room, and found Rosario sitting next to Carlos. "Here," he said to Carlos, handing him the cup. With that, he sat down on the floor next to the couch Carlos had awoken on, raking his fingers through his hair. "Sorry I freaked out," he said to Rosario, glancing down into his lap. "I...umm...five years of therapy still hasn't gotten me over everything..."
 
Carlos Dawn, yellow

Carlos appreciated Rosario sitting next to him consoling him. Rosario was one of Carlos' siblings that he trusted and cared about the most out of all of them. "Thanks Ro, for calming me down; this place just brings back bad memories just...uhh!" When Oliver and Art came back with a cold glass of water for Carlos, he took it. He drunk down the water with a shaky hand. The water brought Carlos back down to reality. "Thanks Oliver...I wonder when the others are going to show, if they show up that is." If like the Universe heard Carlos, he heard sounds coming from the back rooms. It sounded like others were in the house. Most likely Kei and Danny, they would be the only fools to sneak into the house trying to not be involved with the rest.

Carlos stood at the entrance to the back rooms. "Hey who's ever there come here...now! Let's just get this whole thing over with and we can go back to our lives separately." Carlos didn't really care if Danny and Kei didn't want to be around any of them; they just needed to get this house taken care of. If anything Carlos would try and stay in touch with Rosario and Oliver after this thing. At least he could have two people he could depend on it this hell of a so called house.
 
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Kei glanced around the yard as Danny hoisted herself up and climbed in through the window. He did not figure anyone would bother coming back here now, but habit made him cautious. Glancing up as his sister spoke, he slid the backpack off his shoulder and rolled his eyes a bit. He hardly thought she had the right to tell him that, considering he did all the work, but he let it go. There was enough stress around right now, they didn't need to bicker. Instead, he gave a light retort of "Same goes for you." as he handed the bag up, stretching his small frame a bit to make sure she could get a good grip on the pack.

Once Danny had it and pulled it inside, he nimbly hopped up and lifted himself into her room with ease. He was used to the mess of the place, and just shoved some of it aside to plop down on the bed. Finally throwing back his hood, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. "Finally we can relax." He said as he leaned back. Of course, it would be much nicer if they could do so anywhere other than this hellhole, but right now they didn't have much of a choice. Though now that they had entered the building, he was seriously reconsidering the idea of ditching their "family" and crashing somewhere else for a while.

They had barely gotten into the house when Carlos' voice rang out, telling them to come out. He glared at the door for a moment before rolling his eyes. Yea, right, like that was going to happen. If they want to band together and pretend they were all a family and work things out, they could do it without him.

Ignoring his older brother, he turned back to Danny. "Toss me some smokes, would you?" He asked as he pulled out his MP3 player and tapped the screen, turning down the volume. Once he had the pack, he slapped it on his palm a few times before tearing it open and pulling one out with his lips. Flicking open his zippo, he lit up, inhaling deeply. Closing his eyes on the exhale, he savoured the burning in his lungs before speaking again. "So, what d'ya think about all of this... the house, the shit we inherited 'n stuff?"
 
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Danny grabbed the backpack from Kei, and then walked over to her bed. After pushing a pile of junk off of the bed - mainly dirty clothes, crumpled up papers, old candy wrappers, and empty pop cans - she went to sit down. Leaning back against a pile of old blankets she had shoved against the wall, she set the backpack down besides herself, almost immediately going to open it.

She paused at the sound of Carlos' voice, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. "Fuck off Carlos!" She yelled, unable to simply not respond as Kei had. "You ain't the boss of me!"

With a small shake of her head, she turned her attention back towards Kei. After throwing him a pack of smokes, she frowned slightly at his question. What did she think about all this? It was a good question, and one to which she wasn't entirely sure she knew the answer. She was silent for a few moments, trying to think of how to respond. The whole situation had her slightly confused, and the nervousness was making it worse. Though she was used to feeling anxious, having her adopted siblings back in town made her feel even more on edge; this was made apparent by the fact that she was currently tapping her fingers along the bed. Though it was subtle, anytime she was feeling particularly upset she couldn't seem to make her fingers sit still; they were always moving in a tapping motion, as if she was playing a piano, or counting numbers off in her head.

"Pissed off, I guess." She said finally, more sharpness audible in her voice than usual. "I mean, come on, what the hell was up with that? A shovel and a crowbar? I could find better shit lying in an alley. And as if that wasn't bad enough he had to go and say I'm like him? Talk about adding insult to injury. I mean, fuck that. I'd bring the asshole back to life just so I could kill him myself, If I could."

Reaching back into the backpack, she grabbed the bottle of whiskey out. "Mind if I open this?" She asked, though she didn't wait for his answer to begin to do so.
 
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Luca Dawn, Blue

Luca had gotten a call right before Carlos fainted, just his dumb, idiot boss calling again telling him that he had to go in today, and wouldn't understand why he couldn't. So when Luca came back he saw Carlos knocked out on a comfortable couch, Luca sighed. What happened to that damn kid... Luca was disgusted of how bad the place looked, but he had to say that their were worse places he has been in. But all of a sudden Carlos woke up and Oliver quickly gave him a glace of water. "Damn kid you gotta grow up."

Luca still leaned on the counter when he heard Carlos yell for some of the other sibling, he only heard one response yelling for Carlos to fuck off and that he wasn't the boss of her, but little did she know about Luca. The man didn't like anyone rebellious and acting cruel to other people, so Luca marched out the room over to see why the hell this girl was acting this way. He heard it come from a room but it was closed, but Luca wasn't the kind of guy who would respect others privacy, so he walked over to the door and pulled open the door. "Alcohol really? Get out there before I smash the bottle, you got two minutes, both of you!"

Luca then headed back to the living room, wondering what the hell was wrong with them, well, he was much worse at his age...Drugs do bad things. Luke slid out a cigarette out of the pack, putting his between his teeth, Luca lit the smoke inhaling and exhaling the smoke. "Are you guys really thinking that we will be able to fix this place in the next few weeks? It's easier to put a wrecking ball through those walls besides, even if we tried, those two lazy asses wouldn't do a thing. Now I propose we ditch this hell hole and get the hell outta here"
 
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Oliver closed his eyes tight when he heard Carlos shouting, then Danny, and finally Luca, who stepped into the living room a moment later. Art squeezed his hand, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before Luca spoke. Oliver listened silently, wishing that Luca wouldn't shout sometimes.

Glancing up at him a second later, Oliver brushed his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. "I-I know...but...this was Mom's house, too...it feels so terrible to just let this place she loved so much rot...I guess...I guess I've got this hope that I can push out everything that Charlston was, and then only Mom can stay...or something..." He blushed a bit and gave a nervous smile, though his eyes held only sadness.

"A-at least, if this house is cleaned up and sold, someone who can love it as much as I used to can live here..." He shrugged, chewing his bottom lip. Glancing at the kitchen doorway, he let out a heavy sigh before he stood and went inside it. Opening the fridge, he grimaced when all he saw in it was alcohol and something that looked like moldy cheese. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey in it, he took a quick gulp, knowing that too much could mess with his medication. Setting the bottle back down, he called to the others, "M-maybe we can call one of those horrible TV shows like Hoarders and they can send a bunch of people to clean up the house for us...? I, mean...Charlston was a hoarder, right, after Mom died and this all happened..."
 
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