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Sitting down he watched the skellyvision, his hand dipping into the bag of popcorn he just recently made. It was a quiet night, not much happening in amity. There were a lot of nights like this, but he treasured them.

More because the quiet meant they were safe, for now.

"Aw man." He said as he reached in and realized the bag was empty. "That was the last one."

His hand plunged into the waters again, letting the memories fill him.

The halls of the estate were quiet, the servants paused in their duties, holding their brooms, their serving dishes, their dusters, their hands to their chests. The house's eerie silence was broken by a single note that rung with elegance, move smoothly to fill the house. The notes came in turns then, a rhythm that stilled the house and filled them with a sense of calm. Then a note came out that was out of turn that brought smiles to the faces who listened, some chuckled, others going back to their work. The higher notes came with such a melody that the lower notes were sudden, but had their own. The piano's strings plucked as the pair played on them, side by side, brother and sister. The little girl of five years old and the boy of fifteen played the piano in the ball room, the music filling the room with heavenly music. It was the boy's instructor who kept the tempo, listening intently on the boy's playing as oppose to the off-time notes of the young lady's. The boy smiled toward his sister as she played where she believed herself to play, as instructed by him to do so. He would instruct her a note and a key and when to play it while he let his hands do their own thing. Soon, the two were in time, playing together with a smoother blend of tone. The instructor smiled, his eyes closed as he took in their playing. The melody went from heavenly to haunting to soothing to calming.

A hand fell upon the instructor's shoulder causing him to startle, turning his gaze to meet the young man's eyes. Quickly, he turned to the piano, whose music did not falter too much nor did it make a big difference. The young lady had taken to the piano playing both the high and low notes on her own, a smile upon her face.

"Young Lady, you are exceptional!"

She smiled. "Brother showed me."

He turned to the young man and patted him on the back. "Well done, young master, you are as well. To think that you were able to teach her so quickly."

"She picks up new things quite easily, I had no doubt that she would be able to do this. Give her time, and she'll teach you."

Nostalgic

Walking through museums was usually boring to Blightning, who would honestly rather be doing almost anything else but staring at things and wondering about them. It was a waste of his time...

At the same time, most museums did not have things he was familiar with. Some of the things here he was familiar with, from when he was younger. A old skellyphone model. A few old toys. They brought back memories of the past.

Was that a portable game system?

That was one of the big, old, bulky ones. He remembered playing that one when he was a child. That was back when some of the games were not even in color...

Blightning wanted to go home and take out some of his older systems now. Perhaps he would do that after his mother let him leave...

[DESPAIR]

"We know you are capable of speech," superior's tone was clipped and impatient. "Your FEAR charts give no reason for your lack of vocalization."

She nods curtly, back ramrod straight, eyes hidden beneath the shadows of the cap's bill.

"This is highly unusual but not entirely unacceptable," superior's tone was irritated and not very impressed. "We can see you've made your decision. Be prepared to live with the consequences."

He plunged his hand into the waters again, letting the memories fill him once again.

Fang snare burning softly on his desk, the room filled with scent of the earthy herb, the hint of peppered spice. He sat on the nook of the window, resting against the pillows there, and book on his lap. The glasses were falling off his nose as he was beginning to daze off in the day's light. Taking the lenses off his and shutting his tome, he rested his head back against the wall, staring out the window. How long had it been? Nine years? Almost ten? How long had it been since he was able to see him. He even wondered if what he remembered his face was actually his face... but it was the face that he looked to when he felt lost, uncertain, or needed help. It was his words that made him certain of his resolve and his determination to conquer over doubt. But it had been so long...

He had wished that if he left the estate, it would allow him to find that man again.

He had wished that if he was strong enough, he could let that man back into his life.

He had wished that if he was smart, he could find that man.

He had wished that if he was done right, then that man will find him again.

He closed his eyes as he rested there, the fang snare burning to the stem, fizzling out in a wisp of white.

He wish he could find his father.

As she opened her eyes and stared down at the lake, bittersweet memories taunted her. Would she walk away now and just leave it at that?

Maybe the third memory had something else to offer..



Pain blossomed across her back as she was slammed into a wall. She stared up into the hollow blue eyes of the woman that was gripping her by the jaw, breathing hot, stained breath over her face.

"You're drunk," her own lips hissed. Her hands reached out and thrust off the frail limbs of her mother, then grabbed the bags she had dropped.

The woman curled into herself and huddled her robe closer around her, swaying where she stood and staring through hazy, glazed eyes. She was sickly and small. She remembered wondering when she'd gotten so ugly..

"Maybe," she hissed back, making her feet stop just before the threshold, "but ain't no one ever gonna love you like I do, little girl." She thought about turning around but in the end, she just shut her eyes and pushed the screen door open with her foot.

"Thank God, mother."

The bittersweet emotion filled her but was over-run by the sense of freedom, of triumph she had felt that day. She stood up and pushed herself away from the lake, flexing her still-wet fingers like they had been holding that suitcase all along.

It was good enough.

20: Wishes
There was a hill not too far from her roost. It was a bit of a walk; far enough to discourage people from joining her, but close enough that she could make the trip with relative ease. It was on this trip, as she dipped under bushes and squeezed between rocks, that she was most happy to not have reached her full monstrous size just yet. Once she started getting bigger the trip would be more challenging and it would be harder for her to make it to her secret spot. Cause from the top of that hill was the best place to see it. Amityville Academy.

Shadowstep watched silently while his father did business. One of the men had successfully outed an undercover cop among the ranks and was now receiving praise for his good work. Seeds were exchanged, backs were patted, and the monster was being offered a higher position within the family. The affair didn't really matter much to him. People can fall just as easily as they climb. But for now, today was the monster's day.