Post by Jack Calico on Jun 6, 2022 23:48:07 GMT
Boots scuffed loudly as Jack made his way up the winding wooden stairs to his office, grief and exhaustion moving him slowly. The door creaked open, and he kept his eyes off the early morning sun just peeking through the curtains.
Sighing, Jack unbuttoned his undershirt, covered in blood and filth from the last two days, and, walking into his adjoined bedroom, threw it on his bed. Jack's room was dark and simple. Dressers, desks, shelves covered in hastily stacked books and loose papers, a head on the wall. But one thing was set apart, positioned intentionally where the sun would hit it every afternoon. Positioned so Jack could always see it while he worked.
He walked over to the massive frame hung on the wall, and pulled back the delicate curtain that kept it from dust. It was a portrait of his family, with he and all of his grudges, and seated beside himself, a woman. The grudges were all children, none older then ten in the painting. The woman was young and beautiful, with black hair and finely painted hazel eyes, one hand resting neatly on her black gown, the other holding Jack's.
Jack stared hard at the picture, reaching up and touching the little Samma who was sitting at his feet and grinning widely for the painter. Taking a deep breath, the man drifted his gaze to the black-haired woman.
"We lost another one, Abby." He whispered before turning away, unable to face his failure.
The last 24 hours had consisted of removing the children from the psycho's house, escorting them to medical sanctuaries, raiding the rest of the home, marking it unfit for reentry, then returning to a manor full of his grieving family. While his soldiers had unloaded the grabbings from Nico's home into a storehouse, Jack had been bombarded with panicking, furious, and distraught children. Even some of the servants were crippled by the loss.
Samma was to remain in a secret place until her body was prepared and funeral-appropriate, despite the pleadings by some to visit her. Micah hadn't spoken a single word since they'd returned, having disappeared in his room and remained there.
The manor was quiet now, as most of the family was sleeping in late due to the tiring madness. Sitting on his bed, Jack rested his head in his hands and puzzled over some of the things he'd found in the Psycho's bedroom. In a separate bed chamber, hidden behind a thick canopy, had been the skeleton of a tiny girl, masterfully preserved. And next to her, had been...What was she?
A woman. A comatose woman was what Jack believed. A beautiful girl with black hair and a luxurious gown, her chest still, her eyes sealed, but a heartbeat nonetheless. A mysterious thing to find, considering no one could wake her and she appeared otherwise completely unharmed. Another victim of the madman, Jack assumed. She was safe now, kept under the watchful eyes of Jemma and Florence in the room with Lumi and Zion. It unnerved him how similar she looked to Abrielle. Perhaps later today he would inquire further on her identity, hoping strongly that she was a victim rather than the Psycho's equally psychotic wife.
Sighing, Jack unbuttoned his undershirt, covered in blood and filth from the last two days, and, walking into his adjoined bedroom, threw it on his bed. Jack's room was dark and simple. Dressers, desks, shelves covered in hastily stacked books and loose papers, a head on the wall. But one thing was set apart, positioned intentionally where the sun would hit it every afternoon. Positioned so Jack could always see it while he worked.
He walked over to the massive frame hung on the wall, and pulled back the delicate curtain that kept it from dust. It was a portrait of his family, with he and all of his grudges, and seated beside himself, a woman. The grudges were all children, none older then ten in the painting. The woman was young and beautiful, with black hair and finely painted hazel eyes, one hand resting neatly on her black gown, the other holding Jack's.
Jack stared hard at the picture, reaching up and touching the little Samma who was sitting at his feet and grinning widely for the painter. Taking a deep breath, the man drifted his gaze to the black-haired woman.
"We lost another one, Abby." He whispered before turning away, unable to face his failure.
The last 24 hours had consisted of removing the children from the psycho's house, escorting them to medical sanctuaries, raiding the rest of the home, marking it unfit for reentry, then returning to a manor full of his grieving family. While his soldiers had unloaded the grabbings from Nico's home into a storehouse, Jack had been bombarded with panicking, furious, and distraught children. Even some of the servants were crippled by the loss.
Samma was to remain in a secret place until her body was prepared and funeral-appropriate, despite the pleadings by some to visit her. Micah hadn't spoken a single word since they'd returned, having disappeared in his room and remained there.
The manor was quiet now, as most of the family was sleeping in late due to the tiring madness. Sitting on his bed, Jack rested his head in his hands and puzzled over some of the things he'd found in the Psycho's bedroom. In a separate bed chamber, hidden behind a thick canopy, had been the skeleton of a tiny girl, masterfully preserved. And next to her, had been...What was she?
A woman. A comatose woman was what Jack believed. A beautiful girl with black hair and a luxurious gown, her chest still, her eyes sealed, but a heartbeat nonetheless. A mysterious thing to find, considering no one could wake her and she appeared otherwise completely unharmed. Another victim of the madman, Jack assumed. She was safe now, kept under the watchful eyes of Jemma and Florence in the room with Lumi and Zion. It unnerved him how similar she looked to Abrielle. Perhaps later today he would inquire further on her identity, hoping strongly that she was a victim rather than the Psycho's equally psychotic wife.
