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 Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 10:38 am
Her own bedroom. Cassandra was completely enamored with the idea, sitting on the bed, which had been made up in an almost mechanical manner after years of hotel beds and other strange 'borrowed' living arrangements. While she could have let the house keeping in such places tend to it, she'd gotten old enough to soon feel guilty about making other people tend to all of her needs and done her best to learn to perfect the art.
There was plenty of time for her to practice such things, after all.
But part of her wondered if it would be strange for people to actually see that she kept her bed so neatly tended to. It wasn't like she just threw a blanket on there and called it good. She...was perhaps a bit too detail oriented in it. Cassandra took another minute to smooth over the covers, before she looked around the almost depressingly empty room.
It was big enough for a bed, a small desk for keeping a journal, a closet that she could probably hang up some stuff in, and then there was wall space. So much wall space. Cassandra looked at all of it with a sort of evaluating calm, shifting back on her bed to lean her back against the wall. Crossing her legs, which still bore bandages from the trial-of-special-hell, she propped an arm on one knee, her chin in her palm, and eyed all of the empty space.
What the hell was she going to do with personal space???
She seemed almost flabbergasted by the idea of it. Her possessions were minor; consisting of one bag of things she'd packed up before she'd run off from a filming set. But even that had been rifled through and certain things had been removed. Her computer was gone, her iPod was gone... anything that lingered too much of the 'outside world' was gone.
So pretty much Cass had deemed herself to have a few changes of clothing, a pair of shoes, and... a snowglobe of New York City.
She looked at the snow globe with a sort of stupid look on her face, narrowing her eyes at it.
"But I didn't even like New York.." she grumbled, shifting over to the end of the bed to set it on the desk. She shook it once, then sprawled out to watch it for a while. It wasn't very interesting, but it was something to look at, she guessed. Something to distract her until she lost her mind and used it to murder everybody else in the hallway because she just couldn't take it anymore.
Her lips tightened at the thought before she sat up, throwing herself back on her bed, before looking up to the opened door. She had nothing to hide in her room (nor anything worth stealing, in all truth). For a moment, Cass wondered if she should close it.
Give herself some 'privacy' for a change.
What was privacy when one had spent nearly 11 years in a small space with other people near by all the time. She almost felt claustrophobic at the thought. However, she took a minute to think about it.
A long...
thoughtful-thought.
She was all about rebelling, right? Well, she had been in that fleeting moment she'd decided to run away from home without even putting extra thought into it. Right then she'd been struck with a brilliant plan.
Which consisted of jumping on her mechanically-made-bed. Cassandra slipped off her shoes, leaving her in only socks, before she stood up on the bed, gave it a few testing bounces before attempting a real jump on it.
Her socks had immediately slid on the covers, causing the girl to tumble off of the bed and hit the floor.
"Owwwwwww...."
THAT HAD BEEN A HORRIBLE IDEA. Fun, but horrible. She wasn't even aware how loud a THUD on the floor could be..or even sound to anybody who had been within earshot. The shame of the fact she'd failed at her rebellion was enough to incline Cass to walk over to the door, shutting it as quietly as possible before turning to look at her room again, hands on hips.
She frowned, looking at the ruffled up sheets on her bed and walked over to fix the covers again. A slide of the palm here, smooth things over, yada yada yada…..
It took a total of five minutes for Cassandra to have returned the sheets to that state of ‘creepily fixed’ before she sat on the bed again, looking around the room with a sort of woeful look on her face.
This was her private space. This was her room.
Now how long it would take for her to adjust to actually having a space of her own? She didn’t know. It felt foreign, but she had a confident relief that came from it.
Too bad she hadn’t realized that everything she thought she was free from wasn’t entirely gone.
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Posted: Fri Jun 24, 2011 11:48 pm
s**t. s**t. s**t.
The meeting with Caelius had been slightly more stressful than Cassandra had been expecting it to be. It had pointed out her blaring faults, bloodied her nose, gotten a few high fives, and she'd ogled a cute boy. But more importantly, it had told her she was a failure.
She'd taped her schedule on the back of the door when she had returned to her room after the lovely evaluation was over. A mist hunter, hmm? Inadequate, hmmm? Cassandra had begun pacing her room, filled with anxiety for everything that was going on. This was serious. This was way serious and she was starting to question how well she could handle it.
Cassandra was starting to get the jitters. Her arms were shaking, and she paced ever quicker. The idea of quitting was quickly shot down; No. She'd come out there with purpose. She didn't have to fall off the face of the earth. She didn't need to. She didn't deserve to. She'd earned part of her purpose in being there by surviving everything.
The girl took a moment to look at the schedule again. That looked like a lot of work. Was this what it was like going to a public school? The mere thought of it actually was enough to reinvigorate that enthusiasm she'd had in evaluation before the reality struck her in the head with a brick. She had signed her life away.
Not just given herself some sort of freedom.
Freedom with chains and rules... how much wiggle room would she really have? Well..she had a room, hadn't been completely neglected for basic care in any shape or form..she had a pulse. She just..had to work a bit harder to show that Caelius guy she wasn't inadequate! HMMPH! She'd show him! Still, that was a lot of stuff to work on. Another long look at that schedule just caused her to cross her arms, before she shook her head.
"I need to get into shape if I'm going to do all this s**t." she said with a sigh, before she finally turned her attention to the one thing she'd really been wanting to see since she'd heard them mentioned in the evaluation; UNIFORMS.
There was a box that sat on her bed, simple and white. For a moment she considered opening it and expecting the handful of cards that Caelius had pulled from his box to suddenly lunge upon her. That would have been nasty s**t! None the less, she opened it up anddd..
...
...
NO RAPE IN A BOX!
It was a coat of some sort, and when Cass pulled it on, her first determination was that it was looonnggggg! A very long coat. She turned to look at it in the mirror, watching as it seemed to engulf her figure. She smiled a bit at her reflection.
"I look kind of dumb." she said, observing it, before pulling on the length, pondering about shortening it up again. She'd never sewn before, did she think she could do it without maiming it?
Hopefully!
Because she didn't know anybody else. D'oh!
For now, she'd live with the giant garment, which looked sillier and sillier on her the longer she started at her reflection. She felt like a kid trying to wear daddy's suit jacket and instead just looking adorable for the attempt at being 'grown up'. That just wasn't suitable at all! Maybe Marcus knew how to sew and could help her out with it! That alone would have made an awkward date, actually....tee hee.. a date.
With a boy.
Her face flushed pink and she watched it in the mirror, clasping her hands over her cheeks embarassedly. It wasn't like the person in the mirror could actually watch her, right?Ohhhh, that would have been... aaaahhhh!!! There was now a suspicion in her that her reflection would kill her in her sl- HEY! PATTERN!!
The thought was dismissed quickly as Cassandra did one turn in the coat, looking at the long twirling pattern at the base of her coat, holding onto one flap of the jacket and pulling it to spread it out as she looked over her shoulder at her reflection.
That was fancy.
"I wonder if that's a 'mist' thing.." she pondered, recalling how Caelius's coat had been different. Then again, Caelius was a grouchy old man (So there!), but soon Cass took the coat off and laid it out over her bed, standing to admire it.
She had too much work and none of the skills she needed to do any of it. She'd have to see what happened over the next couple of weeks and try to keep her head above the water. Good thing she was a good swimmer, eh?
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Posted: Fri Nov 25, 2011 10:14 am
Painkillers or not, her body still ached, even as she had bid her farewells to the Doctor (he hadn’t been…entirely awful, much to her surprise) and made her way back to her room, half dragging herself along on her little… ‘quest’ of sorts. Really, the only quest was to get back into her room and lay down for a couple of hours. Marcus had been sent out on a mission so he wasn’t an option for post beat-down cuddle time. Somehow, she imagined her body wouldn’t have really..appreciated cuddles anyways.
That was unfortunate, really. However, it was probably also for the better as she finally found her door, finagling it open (she hated keys, but at least she only had one) and stepping into her room as she closed it behind her again. Another twist of her hand and the door was locked behind her. Cass made her way to her bed, peeling her jacket and shirt back off as she laid down, the ice pack resting on her bruised rib. She was really glad that it wasn’t broken, to be honest. Still, she was still mulling over her… ‘lovely’ day.
Did you learn anything from all of this, Cassandra? Nicodemus pipped up in her head. Cass’s eyes flicked up to her left temple, nodding a bit. <> she seemed to have some awe to her even as the weapon pressed back to her. His words were less….. it was strange, actually, to compare the voice in her head to a voice. Nicodemus wasn’t a voice that she heard, but he was more like a dark pressure that would press on her mind, leeching his existence into her consciousness and making her aware that he was there.
And he was very much there, even if she didn’t want him to be. His mild control over her reactionary extremes was… unnerving, to say the least. He couldn’t control her movements (or could he? She could have sworn once he ahd), but he sure as hell had kept her from having a panic attack in Dr. H’s office in response to those fingers..those..touchy feeling gentle but questionable fingers. She shivered a bit before she reached up, rubbing her ear. Would every run in with Caelius always lead to a visit to Dr. H? She wondered about that, really. However, she didn’t say anything about it, instead just…ho-humming a little bit thoughtfully as she wrapped one of her blankets over herself, sighing as she closed her eyes.
Not to sleep, but to think. It wasn’t to say that the man had..crossed any lines with her yet, but she was..confused. Something about the entire encounter seemed…off…to her. She mulled over it for a while before… wait…
How had he known her name?
She could easily recall him calling her ‘Cassandra’ without even waffling over it, but she’d never said that was who she was, and she hadn’t made any big visit to the man before that either. When had he committed her identity to memory?
….
Why had he committed who she was to memory? It made her shiver again as she clutched her head, frowning. What in the hell had all of that been then? She was suddenly extra creeped out when she’d been talked down from being creeped out the entire visit by Nicodemus. Nicodemus didn’t seem surprised by his ward’s sudden realization. In fact, it felt like he was stroking her brain, a gentle touch washing over her forehead and the top of her head. She wasn’t exactly sure how he did that, but the Tonberry made it a pointed effort to not… let his ward freak the ******** out.
Because when she freaked out, her brain turned off and things went downhill quickly, to be honest. He didn’t want to have to try and manage that problem, even if he had to too constantly. Stupid boy and his ‘moves’ he put on Cassandra. Perhaps part of it was her….naiveté of the opposite sex. Part of him wondered if he wasn’t helping by trying to keep her away from boys in general. Certainly he didn’t feel she needed to get too wrapped up with interactions with them, but perhaps he needed to encourage her to spend time with some of the ones she had less carnal inclinations towards.
Maybe that Leon boy.
When you’re feeling well enough, you should ask that boy, Leon, to spar with you. He seems like a good match for you to work on that…competence you envy in Caelius. he said, making a pointed effort to take Cass’s mind off of the moment in the examination room with the good doctor. He hadn’t been that bad if Nicodemus had his opinions. Slightly touchy, but that had been the point of the examination; to touch and see what was going on with her insides.
Cass sighed internally back at the Tonberry, resting her hand on top of the ice pack again as she pulled her covers around her just a bit tighter.
<>
Which is why I said when you’re well, not after you’ve rested. That boy would break you in half as you are now.
<> Cass fussed back at the Tonberry for a moment, but kept her eyes closed, not rousing to fight with him. Nicodemus just continued to stroke her brain, pressing on the area that would encourage sleep. It wouldn’t put her to sleep, persay, but it would if she was trying to do so herself. He was helping, really.
It wouldn’t be long after that when the Mist Trainee would finally doze off, exhausted from her altercation with the more experienced hunters.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2011 7:37 pm
<<Hey Nicodemus?>>
It was the first time Cass had actually made a point to interrupt the thoughts of the weapon, rather than him pry into hers to tell her to stop daydreaming. She sat at her desk, her pen pressed to the page of a notebook she’d picked up to function as a sort of ‘journal’ to document her time on the island thus far. It normally sat with the other book on her desk – her pre-island life journal – but she’d felt it proper to update it for the week, sighing thoughtfully as she wrote about the most recent mission they’d been on.
It was a moment before the Tonberry replied in her mind.
What is it? he asked calmly. Cass sighed, her eyes trailing up to her left temple as she moved to respond to him. She didn’t waste time, given she’d harassed him first, but still;
<> She asked, resuming writing, halfway through the word ‘Horseman’ before the Tonberry pressed to answer her again; I don’t know. Caelius is strong. he answered honestly. Cass agreed wholeheartedly that the Master Hunter was mighty, but it still unnerved her to think that for that moment, and perhaps the entire fight, he’d held her life right there in the palm of his hand.
‘I have discovered that I am weak, no matter how much stronger I have become’ she wrote on the page. Nicodemus expressed disagreement, based on the feeling that pressed into her mind. She smiled weakly at the assessment from him, but didn’t argue with him about it.
<> she asked again after a moment. <> she inquired, still reminiscing over that fight with Caelius when he’d told her the failure of the weapon was the failure of the hunter. She’d failed him, when Nicodemus was so..fortuitous about holding on for her and TO her to make sure she didn’t become a smoke-y splot on the ground in so many cases.
It bothered her to think she hadn’t actually bonded with the voice in her head enough for him to share such information with her, even when they’d spent some time together. Then again, she knew near nothing about him, even as he lingered in her head, sorting through her thoughts as though they were a book – a novel for him to go through and see how things ended. It was strange. He was like a guardian angel who didn’t really share anything about himself with her.
It’s because you needed to figure it out on your own. It wasn’t your fault…truly.
‘Truly’ huh? So that simply meant that it had been her fault, it just wasn’t her fault that it was her fault, was that it? Cass made a face, curling her hair around a finger as she wrote further into the journal, detailing her get together with Marcus at the beach (she omitted how much kissing went on there), as well as her changing impressions of the Hunter-doctor, H. Mysterious, yes, but he seemed to have something genuine about him that she admired. Even if he had some little older-man-admiration-crush going on. In the sense that she regarded him something like an uncle, perhaps. Never romantically.
She had Marcus, and that was all she wanted.
Still, her observations on the adults was questionable at best, and a lot of her immediate opinions were smoothed over by Nicodemus’s maturity – or perhaps how he wanted her to see things. If everything was up to him, she’d be celibate forever and not even make goo-goo eyes at the boys. Too bad she was a teenaged girl and boys were practically all she thought about.
His loss.
<> Cass pipped up again, setting both the pen and the journal aside and instead getting up to walk across the room to admire the trophy she had set aside in her closet, giving it a long thoughtful look. It wasn’t the most fancy of boots, in her opinion, yet she did have to wonder why the dog was so… attached to it. Was it because it was his boot? Why had it thrown it at her then?
She made a small face, putting it aside before looking at herself in the mirror.
Ol…
Plain Cassandra. She wasn’t sure what about herself Dr. H ‘enjoyed’, as he mentioned, and she wasn’t sure why Nicodemus had chosen her either. Nothing about her stood out (sans the magical rack, but Cass wasn’t actually aware that beyond it she was complete jailbait).
Just find yourself before you worry about finding me. I will be here, and I will wait. You need to figure out who ‘you’ are, before worrying about who ‘we’ are. Can you do that, you think? he asked. Cassandra sighed, putting the thought about her appearance aside for a while and instead going to pull on her shoes as to head out.
She’d make a run at the sparring grounds, she guessed.
“I’ll see what I can do, Nick.” She relented awkwardly, before stretching, pulling on her jacket, and heading outside.
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Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2012 4:29 pm
She couldn’t see. It was dark. It was so dark. Even the normal flickers of light and color behind her eyelids were gone.
It was simply black.
She couldn't even cry out in pain - the only sensation she could feel at that point. Nicodemus unsummoned from her fingers, remaining dormant around her waist just in time for Cass to feel the first crack. It felt like an eternity. A slow crack...and then a snap.
One of her fingers had just broken, bending back upon itself. Then came the next one. She couldn't feel blood, her mind focusing on the actual pain in her hands....and then came the utter crushing of the bones in her feet - functional, but they felt like a giant bruise. Even her stronger bones began to crack, a new wave of pain coming over her mind as a single thought managed to pass through her head;
'I am going to die like this.'
She couldn't hear what was happening around her, but the second she could suddenly move her lungs again, she inhaled, flat on the ground, a mix of blood, tears, and broken bones as she gasped for air. Her mind was reeling. What was happening. She could barely see blurry shapes as she looked around, trying to figure out what was happening. Noises were bare drops against her consciousness.
But unlike Cass, Nicodemus could hear even without needing her ears.
You need to move if you don't wish to die. he urged, his voice the only clear thing in her hear. Cass reached out, grabbing the closest white-and-gold thing she could find. White, gold, blue.. this was..
That is Marcus. He needs to move too, Cassandra. he said.
Even then, Cass's hands were pathetically useless as she reached out to touch the moon hunter in her semi-blind, semi-deaf, and very broken state.
"Marcus," she coughed, a very distinctly read trail dripping down her chin, "we need..." cough, "to go..." she sputtered, nearly collapsing against him. However, he didn’t reach out back for her. He was still. Cass reached out to touch his face. There was something slick running down it – tears? Blood? She couldn’t tell. Then, underneath her fingers the rest of his head collapsed in, a very distinct red fluid gushing between her fingers.
She pulled away, screaming. Her lungs burned with the action, blood filling her mouth before she collapsed, coughing out chunks of something..warm..squishy….pink…all over the ground. She couldn’t breathe. Underneath her, her arms snapped and she collapsed onto her chest, bones sticking out through her skin. She gasped, trying to find the ability to breathe, even as her ribs slowly buckled together, piercing through her lungs. A final trail of blood oozed from her mouth, even as her bones pushed through her skin, organs being smashed between the pressure….
And then Cass woke up. She jerked suddenly, followed by a yelp, and then a sob. Her body shook while she cried, eyes blurred even without the tears as she looked around the dark room, and then rolled over in the battered arms of the moon trainee. Her arms snaked around him, shifting to snuggle up against his chest as she sobbed, brushing her palm across his forehead as he slept. Her ear was pressed up against his ribs, listening.
Thump thump….thumpthumpthumpthumpthump…..
His heartbeat. The distinct sound of his breathing. It was all there. He was fine, and yet… her heart ached. He’d been hurt so bad, and yet…he’d had the energy to hold her up, to carry her burden. She sobbed into his shoulder, burying her face as she weeped quietly. All she knew was that she didn’t want to wake him, even as she whispered;
“I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry….” She sniffled, then could only find it in herself to shake against his sleeping form as she sobbed miserably. What if he didn’t get better? What if none of them got better? What if something happened before either of them healed? What if…what if… so many ‘What if’s filled her head, and she soon turned over again to bury her face into the pillow to try and muffle the sound of her tears.
Even then, Marcus’s body shifted even as she moved and she forced herself to still, pausing to smooth one of her broken hands over his head, whispering a quiet, but shaky, “Don’t wake up…stay asleep….shhh….shhhh…..” she soon pulled herself close to his sleeping body, nuzzling her face up next to one of his ears.
“I’m alright….I’m alright….” She whispered, as though somehow it would keep him from the nightmares in some attempt to help herself from getting too wrapped up in this horror that had fed into her brain. “It’s alright…we’re both alright……” she again murmured.
And yet, she still couldn’t help it when she fell back into the silent tears of worry.
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Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2012 3:08 am
A series of tapes are found....press play..... Tape 1 of ???*Tssstttttt…
‘Is the camera rolling?’
‘Yeah, it’s going. I put a fresh tape in and everything just to make sure we get this like the boss wanted. But…’
‘I know, I know. You have your ‘she’s just a little girl’ issue going still. Suck it up. Work is work, people will love her!’
Tsssssssssssssssssssssssssssst…
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
Boop!
The camera panned through the inside of the house carefully – it was a quaint little house, the perfect size for a family of three. A small kitchen that connected with the stairs to head downstairs, the livingroom which looked out over a darling cul de sac, a petite yard. It was the ultimate starter home for a young family with a single child.
A single darling little girl with long brown hair that had been been curled up, pulled out of her face with ribbon. No mask for the terror that was displayed in the little girl’s eyes – bright, alert. They seemed to see everything and beyond, looking at the adults with a sort of apprehension. She lingered close to her mother’s side, holding the woman’s hand with both of hers and whimpering as the group – mother, daughter, father, and camera crew, walked through the house towards a room near the back of the main hallway.
The closer they drew, the more nervous the child seemed to become, looking up at her mother and then at her father, seeming completely and totally terrified. The moment a hand touched the handle of the door to that fated room, the child pulled back and away from her mother, making a noise like a panicking animal to try and get away from it. She didn’t get very far before her father grabbed her hand and pulled her back into it with him, however.
’This little lady is Cassandra Norris, age 5 years old. According to rumor, this little girl can see ghosts! What do you think, Nelson?’
‘I don’t know, Dirk. I don’t see anything in this room….’
‘Well, Nelson, the big deal about this room in particular is that this little girl claims to have been seeing her dead grandmother in this room.’
The explanation went on above Cassandra’s head as she stared into the room. To the adults all they saw was a quaint room that smelled a bit moldy – sort of like the house of any grandparent for some reason – and had some dated décor in it. Handmade blankets, handmade rugs, a quaint shawl here, old knick knacks strewn about in some semblance of order. It was adorable, really.
Adorable, except that to Cass it seemed like there was a dark haze over the room. Each corner was a dark abyss into the pits of hell. They hadn’t always been like that, though. She’d gone in there for a while just to cope with the sudden loss – a loss she couldn’t fully explain. She’d sat at her grandmother’s desk, playing with her old figurines and remembering the conversations she’d had with the older woman in there. But it seemed like every time she’d gone in there it had gotten just a little darker.
A little colder.
The room now stood as an ice box with dark walls, dark corners, and no light whatsoever. She didn’t want to go in there, but that tone of voice, the way her father’s voice rumbled a Baritone “Cassandra…” rang with utter disappointment. Daddy would be mad at her if she didn’t do it. Mommy would make sad faces. They would hate her forever. They’d send her to the orphanage and then she’d have to get a new mommy and daddy and…and…..
The paranoias of any child who didn’t understand the unconditional state of a parent’s love – or what should have been unconditional – filled her head as she stepped into the room and immediately shivered. She almost looked so darling, standing there in her little blue dress, wringing the skirt with both hands, looking back at her parents for encouragement – or perhaps that look was her begging them to call her back to them. To realize they’d made a horrible, horrible mistake and that she was in danger. True, raw, horrible danger.
They couldn’t see it. No, if they could have seen what she saw, they would have moved out of that house long ago. It sat there in the corner of the room near the desk where Cass had played so fondly – amorphous, dark, undulating. Blackness. True blackness that was blacker than anything she’d ever seen. She wasn’t sure exactly what the surface texture was made of, however. It was simply dark.
It devoured the light.
She began to heave, trying to breath, panicking, tears, fear. A true, raw fear. The creature didn’t even move, it just took a deep breath, as though reveling in that terror. A terror nobody else in the room could feel.
’Cassandra, what are you looking at?’ Her mother asked, urging the panicking girl to speak. Cass looked back to the doorway, pointing weakly to the corner and in a state of near hyperventilation whimpering; “i-i-it’s….it’s…” not, she choked on this words, tears sliding gently down her cheeks, “Grandma….” She heaved, trying to communicate somehow that this thing wasn’t Grandma. Why did they think it was?
Why?
She couldn’t understand.
Still, the camera slowly panned to the corner of the room as the shadow that nobody could see slowly reached out, touching one of the figurines on the desk and pushing it slowly off of it – deliberately. It was as though the creature wanted them to know it was there. That he was there. She managed one final choked whimper before she ran back to her mother’s arms.
All that had been seen on camera was a little terrified girl staring towards some unseeable thing that had knocked a small doll off of a desk away from any hands that could have physically touched it.
The first cemented block of the legacy of Child Psychic and later Ghost Hunter, Cassandra Norris.
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Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2012 1:56 pm
Tape 2 of ???
*tssssssssssssss-*
‘Dirk, why do you always start recording so early on the tapes?’
‘I don’t want to miss anything, Nelson!’
*ttttssssssssss*
She didn’t like this place. She didn’t like this place at all. Athens, Ohio – one of the top 10 most haunted towns in America, and naturally being born and raised there just made the superstition around this extra ‘sense’ of hers even more founded.
“Cassandra Norris – the Girl Touched by Ghosts” the tape introduced the five year old as the camera panned over her concerned face, still dressed and dolled up as darling as she’d been in the first video. Darling, tiny, terrified, and unwilling – unfortunately that last emotion couldn’t be expressed through the camera to whoever was watching on the other side.
The real problem with the arrangement had been exactly the place that gave Athens, Ohio its fame – Athens Lunatic Asylum, or ‘The Ridges’ as it had also been called. One of the most haunted places on earth. A terrifyingly dark seeming place to Cassandra which had been closed long before – it was renovated by the University Ohio. Well, part of it had been. But despite all of their scrubbing and all of their cleaning, there was one part of the building they could not be clean of.
That was why the psychic ‘darling’ of TV had been invited to come take a look at one of the local wonders. Cass had taken one look at the building and tried to make a retreat – though that wouldn’t make it on film. The tape itself showed the little girl, dressed in white as she stepped towards the door of the renovated building, gave an unsure look back at the camera, and then awkwardly stepped inside.
The whines weren’t cut out, however. That was what made the entire situation – the hazy handheld camera and the flickering effect. They could have made the quality better, but that classical effect just made that little pale girl seem to radiate in the dark. She looked back at them once, seeming to be even more terrified than anybody at home watching would ever feel.
Ever.
Her face was that brief moment of terror that people felt when someone suddenly jumped out at them around the corner and frightened them, before they realized they were safe. But it was prolonged, there was no safety coming after to soothe her woes. Raw terror, more raw than even the first tape. She didn’t know what was coming, she hadn’t been in there before.
The hallways seemed to rot to Cass as she walked through them, though to the normal eye, they were left unchanging, even as it grew darker and more ominous as they ventured in further. The tiny girl began to shake even as they stepped further in.
In until they found the fateful room – it was small, but it was easy to see how one could get locked in there, be trapped. It was Claustrophobic. Horrendously claustrophobic. Cass began to hyperventilate, looking up at Dirk – who held the camera – and making a small noise – terror. This room scared her even more than the entire building had. The next cut made would be the little girl trying to make a run for it from that room – or it would have been if the door hadn’t suddenly slammed shut, leaving her trapped in there with the two filming men….
And the large, dark, ominous stain in the middle of the floor. It seemed to writhe to those who could see it, dark trails streaming out from it as it seemed to grope for the corners, and even towards the door that Cass had secured herself by, the girl grabbing for the handle as she attempted to pry the door open.
uuuuuaaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhHHAAAHHHHHHHHH
It sounded like a woman was screaming, scratching at the walls as she wailed, small trails of blood – as though her fingers had been split open as she tried to claw her way out – becoming visible only to Cassandra’s eyes. She held the terror belief, nobody else would be able to see them – they didn’t have the fear.
But they were plain as day to Cass, even as Dirk and Nelson explained that back when the location had been the Mental Asylum still, there had been an incident where a woman had gotten separated and locked out of the building in that very place, dying of exposure. They’d found her where that blood stain in the middle of the floor was days later – dead.
They’d washed the floor plenty of times since then, but the stain always came back.
Cass didn’t care, she wanted out – she nearly scratched her fingers bloody in her attempt to get out the door. A door that finally relented after the fact that Cass was on the brink of possibly scaring herself to death – which may have been the only reason why it opened. Cassandra Norris didn’t even look back as she finally got outside – missing that finally glance of the dark shadow reaching out after her with long spindle-y fingers, wheezing. Help.
Heeeeeeelp.
Dirk and Nelson, even on the way out, continued to explain what had happened in the building while Cass wept in her mother’s arms outside.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2012 4:10 pm
Tape 3 of ???
’Tombstone, Arizona? That place just sounds likes it’s every level of haunted just from the name of it.’
‘It’s just a little theater. It won’t be as eerie as the blood stain on the floor in Athens.’
‘I’d like to hope so, but…. I can’t get the sound of her whimpering in the back of the van out of my head, Dirk.’
Bird Cage Theater.
It was a quaint looking little place, a little restored little place that had once been a saloon. The atmosphere during the day was pleasant, alive even. It hadn’t spooked little Cassandra when she sat in the shop on one of the seats, looking between the adults as they talked about poker – apparently a legendary 8-year and 10-million dollar poker game had been played in the basement. There was also talk about the origin of the building, and the owners talked about how nice it had been to get the building in the condition it had been in.
That condition being OLD AS ********, so..authentic, maybe? Cass hadn’t been sure of what was going on, the Camera getting glimpses of the little girl picking old peeling paint off of the wall trying to make big long strips of taudy and horrible colors. It was her personal challenge to try and make sure she could make them as large as she could. It wasn’t a bad challenge for a six year old, she guessed as they began to pile up on the table. Pieces and pieces of new paint which lingered over hunks of old paint.
It was an old toy in new wrapping, and Cass was peeling away the surfaces of it. It was ugly underneath it.
Cass didn’t say anything for most of the duration, fussing at her hair and skirt as the adults talked, at one point in time Nelson – a young woman who worked the cameras as well – coming over to give the child a glass of water. Cass sipped at it in the background of the introduction of the recording.
“Are you going to be alright, Cassandra?” the woman asked, and Cass smiled awkwardly. “I’ll…..I’ll do what momma asks, ‘cause if I do that, it’ll be OK, right?” the girl answered, eyes glossing over a bit as impending terror seemed to strike her. She was going somewhere strange again, and she wasn’t excited for it.
She wasn’t absolutely sure how terrified she was about to be either, as her mother suddenly turned from her discussion. “Cassandra. Come here.” She said. Cass passed a terrified look over to Nelson before she set the glass on the table and shifted out of her seat to hobble on over to her mother, taking her hand and looking towards the camera with a doe-eyed look. It wasn’t a surprise that it seemed to just lap up the six year old.
“With that, I think we’re ready to go take a look downstairs!”
Cass squeezed down on her mother’s hand, looking visibly shaken as she looked towards the stairs, then up to the camera, offering it a smile that was very strained. Never the less, when the girl got to the top of the stairs, her mother smoothed over her hair, letting go of her hand and whispering reassurances to her before Cass was gently shoved towards the stairs.
The camera followed along after the little girl as she slowly walked down the stairs into the basement, pausing in the stairwell as she looked into the room and whispered; “There’s something down here.” Her voice was hushed, terror lacing it. She’d learned after several tapes to at least say what she was seeing instead of panicking mindlessly. Not to say she didn’t want to go panic mindlessly upstairs. But mother and father liked it better when she tried to talk to the cameras.
They liked it, and she wanted them to still like her.
“There’s um…” she reached out to motion towards the corner. “A dark…darkshape….” She explained, words starting to fuse together as she spoke faster. “In the corner at thetable…” she again looked back towards the adults and the camera with a doe eyed and terrified look before she slowly descended into the basement further, walking towards the shape in question. No violent ghosts had been spotted in the area, but….
She still moved slowly, flinching when a sudden and high pitched, hysterical laughter filled the air. Noise. It was a horrible noise, but somehow she powered through it, sniffling weakly as she continued on into the room, touching the table where the shadow sat before she sat down, looking across at it.
“Is there something…i-I…I can…?” she cut off, the camera capturing her terror as the lights began to flicker on and off, before she table suddenly shifted and the laughing came back, pounding coming from the ceiling. Cass whimpered, shaking in her seat as the room spent several minutes, turning to chaos around her.
Pure, unadulterated chaos.
After nearly 15 minutes of recording, the room went still, leaving the room broken up with only a little Cass sitting on her untouched seat in the middle of the room. But she didn’t move from her position. Instead, she watched the floor below her seat, explaining nothing.
She didn’t talk about the shadow that seemed to be holding her seat steady.
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Posted: Thu Nov 28, 2013 2:02 pm
She waited until the door clicked behind her, taking a shuddering breath as she turned to lock it, legs shaking as she leaned her weight against the hard wood and slowly slid down it, not turning back to look into the mostly empty office. Instead, Cassandra closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to try and hold in her tears as her fingers slowly twisted the ring on her finger, over and over again.
She slowly pulled it off, pausing at the last knuckle of her finger before she slid it back on, the first hiccup escaping her lips as the first tear slid down her cheek. Both were quickly followed by another noise, another tear. The first scream was muffled into the door, her face smearing in the wet spot her sobbing made against it, shaking as she pounded a fist against it with another scream. This was what this room was for, this was why she’d wanted this room, right? Maybe not for her own use, but it was going to get it’s use in.
I told you to be careful. Nicodemus said gingerly in her head, but his ill placed ‘I told you so’ was answered with her flinging the chain across the room before she collapsed into a heap on the floor, wrapping her arms around her face as her legs curled into her. Nicodemus recoiled and mentally slapped his own forehead. He was an idiot. Yes, he was right, but Cass was in no condition for him to try and convince her she was better off without the man she’d loved so deeply for 3 years. He’d try again tomorrow, but first he had to play damage control.
Cassandra.....why are you taking this lying down? he asked gently and Cass’ breath hiked as she tried to put her lungs into a functional answering position that even her mind, which screamed at him, wasn’t in. Because I’m rotting fruit! It made only a small amount of sense, given the context of her and Marcus’ argument. But it hurt him to see her like this - in a position that she herself had put herself into from letting herself fall so head over heels in love, but never the less heartbroken. Marcus’ personal darkness, which she’d tried to help him keep in check, had exploded on her - the rot of his fruit tainting even her own. The rot she’d beseeched him to cut out because it was getting out of control doing just what she had said it was doing.
At that moment, Nicodemus wanted to be in a golem, to cradle her head in his lap and to tell her it was alright. It would have been the shortest moment of solace he could have given her, but seeing her quietly destroying herself in her head with grief from a fight....it was hard to bear. Well if you’re both already rotten.....why don’t you go back to him? He suggested, but this only intensified her sobbing which could not be controlled by any degree of logic.
Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.
Well, what do you want?
I want to just curl up and die!
He was taken aback. It was the one thing they’d promised each other and Nicodemus couldn’t help but feel like her wishes were made out of spite - he’d broken his promise of forever to her and now she was going to break her promise of going on without him just to show him she could do it. Which had Nicodemus quietly contemplating just how long that gave him to try and get her back up to working order - about a week?
There was a lot of this situation that made him want to pull out a copy of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and smack her with it - look at them killing themselves for a stupid love, plz 2 not copy Miss Cass you are a fantastic little thing and seriously your character for having bad things happen to you is awful you lil’ s**t. Okay, Nicodemus had a lot of feels when it came to this stuff - namely that he had chosen a teenager who was....acting like a teenager who had her heart broken for the first time, okay, maybe he was expecting her to act more like the adult she had been pretending to be.
Will you at least go have a cup of water when you’re done crying?
....Yes... Her mental voice was a hiccup of an answer, but it was at least a way to get her up off the floor. Unfortunately, Nicodemus would have to come up with another course of action when the fact she wouldn’t stop crying came up. But he needed to stop trying to fix her before she was in a position to be fixed.
He had words in reserve for Marcus if Cass did any lasting damage during this fit of hers, though.
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