book one : chapter two ( by celebration ) location : convenience store , the power is flickering again fuck tagging : @zhukcva
macie, much to her annoyance, spends herself finding most of her time awake in the lobby where the power is consistent. though the bulbs are not as bright as they once were, it is better than attempting to read and the power leaving her room at odd intervals. she’s grown annoyed, though, at the constant movement in the space. there is no true peace that she can find; she is always uncomfortable and always on edge. her focus is not on the pages in her hands, her eyes glazed as she looks to them but she listens to the footfalls and voices around her. it is only when she hears someone mention alcohol though it comes the convenience store.
curiosity is peaked, her attention already drawn away from her book. she’s quick to stride over, stepping into the space and finding that the lure had been correct. there’s a thrill that goes through her at the options she is presented. she can only drink so many rum on the rocks before even that loses it’s burn. she plucks a bottle of wine from the ice, cracking open the lid and taking a long swig before she makes eye contact with the other person in the room. she tips her head back in acknowledgement, “ what’cha drinking? ”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
She must have sounded small. The scoff from the other was a testament to that indeed. It was not her intention - staying cool and collected in a situation like this was the ideal she was striving towards. Sounding scared would help no one and only serve to make people worry. Clearing her throat, she offered a weak defense: “Well, I could have been more careful, I suppose. Made my presence known, at least.”
Took her out? So the other, Macie, as she helpfully supplied, was armed. With a knife, most likely. Anke raised her eyebrows. A knife would be much more useful if one could see what they were cutting into. And, in defense of the House, it’s never tried to harm them before. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just trying to see what exactly we’re dealing with.”
Though, judging by Macie’s demeanor, she might be just as lost. “You’re right, it is Anke,” she nodded, “The accent gave it away, didn’t it?”
the whisper of clothing tells macie where anke is standing. it’s been a long time since she has had to depending almost solely on her hearing, to be aware of her surroundings when her sight was not enough. it tightens her chest slightly and she swallows the panic beginning to bubble in her chest. it was five years ago, but with the darkness pressing down on her it feels like it was just days ago. “ there’s not going to be any seeing for a while, i don’t think, ” she mutters under her breath. at least with the knife in her hand, there was a semblance of protection. she knew most of the people who resided within this fun house, but that didn’t mean they didn’t become different people in the dark. “ the accent gave it away, ” she confirms, though the voice would have too. “ where are you trying to go? ”
‘ i have too won, ’ tommy replied indignantly. it didn’t happen often, so she did have somewhat of a point. ‘ i won rosie. ’ the furby that she had found in the basement that, despite apparently being something macie had meant as a joke, tommy had taken a liking to it, giving it a name from one of the songs on his cassettes. he frowns and then adds, ‘ and like, it can still be harder, y’know ? ’ his brow stays furrowed for a moment longer, lips in a frown. a huff of breath. however, whatever was happening inside his head fades when she snorts at his bet, and he’s brought back once again to defending himself. ‘ yeah, really. i ran into a table in the dark already. that shit’s important. ’ then she puts her cards down. ‘ fuck. thought you were faking me out. ’
three of a kind hits the table. ‘ what ? ’ he asks, but she’s telling him before he even finishes the word. ‘ ohh… ’ the syllable is dragged out, as tommy nods in a way where it seems like his whole upper body is moving, shoulders and neck working to move his head up and now. then she switches to shaking it, a pitying thing, closing his eyes. he looks back up to macie and says, ‘ bummer, dude. that was a radical find on my part. ’
there’s a moment where her brow creases and she looks up at him, attempting to figure out what the hell he was talking about. who, or rather what, was rosie? it takes her probably longer than it should have to remember the furby that he’d won off of her all those weeks ago. weeks was the only way she felt comfortable describing how time passed here. years don’t feel right and neither does days, but there’s something about weeks that feels right. she sighs softly when he says it’s harder, shaking her head and just letting it go.
dark eyes flick up to meet his when he says that the ibuprofen is important, a smirk curling on the left side of her mouth as drops his own cards. she pulls the pile towards her, happy with the pile she’s accumulated tonight. she reaches out to reshuffle the cards, the little packet of ibuprofen between them, “ take the ibuprofen, tommy; sounds like you need it more than i do, ” while there’s a teasing to her tone, she is genuine in her meaning. that smirk shifts and grows at the slang he uses, “ well, the power’s out; should come back on, it just sucks that it’s going to have to warm up again. if it doesn’t, i’m going to personally find oliver and demand a new one. ” she’s quick with the cards, folding them into a shuffle. she’s learned some tricks herself, “ can i deal you in again? ”
the last name. a nickname picked up in the army. a name that he regularly goes by now. it bring back flashes of memories of sitting around a table, laughing and smiling with friends who didn’t make it out of the attack; flashes of eyes who were filled with fear and terror; flashes of bodies around him in the ocean. fionn blinks a couple of times before his eyes focus back on the darkened visage of macie in front of him. ❝ that’s only because you don’t play fair, sullivan, ❞ he retorted. ❝ you bring knives to a fist fight. ❞ at the feeling of her hand upon his own, he relaxed slightly. he wasn’t fighting. he was in the raven house hotel. he was safe.
fionn’s shoulders dropped after a couple of deep breaths and slowly lowered his hands. he hoped that she knew that he wouldn’t raise a hand towards her in a negative way — never. despite their radically different personalities, they manage to keep each other in check and start a tumultuous, at times, friendship. ❝ you okay? with the power being out and everything? ❞
there’s a sharp laugh that disturbs the silence of the darkened hallway. she roughly pulls the fingers of her free hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. “ there’s no promise it’s always going t’be a fist fight, ” she retorts in return. “ i’d rather be safe than sorry. ” it’s truthful, if not a little bitter. she had that knife all those years ago, hadn’t used it then. it was bloodied, figuratively, now; too many had their lives stolen by the knife in her grip.
she listens, she has gotten good at listening, to the sound of his breathing. with his hand gripped in hers as it is, she can feel his pulse in his wrist. between the combination of the two, she can feel when he starts to calm down again. she gives his hand another squeeze before letting go completely. “ i’m fine, ” the words are honest. she’d lived in the dark, spent far too much time in it. “ are you okay? ” she asks softly.
Rory shook his head, resting his hand on the banister and leaning back against it. “Yeah, I’m good. Nobody fell down the stairs.” He gestured with his free hand in regards to the worst case scenario.
The thought had initially occurred to him that perhaps this anomaly of an outage could have meant the ‘spell’ of the place could have been broken, but he had quickly reminded himself that being unexpectedly released from this nightmare was possibly too much to wish for. He’d gotten his hopes up before, and was forced to remember that more data was needed.
“I was going to see if anyone had any idea what was going on. Or at the very least see if the bar is still open.” He glanced down the shadowy staircase before looking back at her. “Any interest in forming a Scooby gang?”
macie leans her shoulder against the wall of the hallway, a safe spot to settle for the moment. at least nothing could attack her from that side; unless it was like the shitty old horror movies and the monsters lived in the wall or something. it’s so stupid, but her weight presses into the wall just to make sure there’s no give in it. “ the power went out, ” she answers flatly. “ and the bar literally never closes. ” there’s no way to tell time here. whether it was time for sleep, time to wake up, or just the middle of her waking hours, the bar was open. “ i have interest, but what character are you? ” she asks with an arched brow. “ none of them were really fighters. ”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝚏𝚘𝚛: @cherrydiversion 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: second floor corridor –––––––
𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. the power has been cut –– for how long? there seems to be no way of knowing whether it’s been a few minutes or a few days, with the way time seems to loop and bend within the walls of the raven house. the darkness swallows everything. you are alone. no, you’re not. who’s there?
mac fumbled for the doorknob to his room, supremely disappointed in his ill-evolved inability to function without a bit of light. what’s worse was the nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him about the flashlight he’d seen around the convenience store a few days back, and passed by without a second thought. that woulda been real fuckin’ convenient right about now, wouldn’t it, mac?
once he finally managed to open the door, he stepped out into the hallway and squinted, as if that could possibly help the predicament of not being able to see on account of a building-wide blackout. it’s with a huff of a sigh that mac yanks his room door shut and turns left, blindly walking forward and hoping for the best – or for the very least, not to trip over any creepy children. this whole setup was a horror movie waiting to happen. motel hell, indeed.
as soon as that thought flitted through his mind, he saw the light at the end of the tunne–– uh, hallway. “…don’t tell me this whole thing was just a fuckin’ waiting room situation,” mac grumbled under his breath, a halfhearted joke with the barest edge of genuine curiosity. and… hesitation. no, this couldn’t be it. could it? he advanced further down the hallway, every time he’d groaned at the silver screen protagonists for doing what he was just about to do flashing behind his eyes. he did it anyway. “…hello? who’s there?”
the bowie knife that had once been an unnoticeable weight against her thigh now became a comfortable weight and protection that she kept gripped in her right hand. her fingers folded around the hilt and she’s thankful to whatever entities live above that she’s kept it sharpened all these years. it was certainly not just for show. in her other hand is a candle that’s beginning to melt, the wax sliding down to meet the metal base.
it was stupid, really, to be gripping onto the shred of light. it dulled her ability to see beyond the scope of dim light the candle provided. yet, it provided her comfort, a shred of control over the situation. she now wielded the basic weapons needed to survive, fire and metal. she hears a door shut further down the hall and it causes her pause. the footsteps are audible even on the carpeted floor and she wonders if anyone in this place has been taught to walk quietly, has ever needed to.
macie’s heart thundered when she was alone, though she would seldom admit it. it’s when that voice calls out from the other end of the hall, she’s certain that walking through the door into that shitty motel was a mistake. this was a mistake. her heart stutters, pulse stopping for just a moment, and her lungs seizing. her grip on the bowie knife becomes white knuckled as a flood of emotions race through her at once, but the only thing that comes from her lips is a broken “ rohan. ” because she knows that voice, even now, better than anyone else’s.
Out of everything she had seen and experienced in the Raven House, a blackout was, perhaps, the most mundane event of them all. She was no stranger to the way the lights flickered, or how her world was suddenly plunged into darkness. Under any other circumstance, she’d simply light a candle and continue reading the novel, now left open in her hands. But this was The Raven House. Here, the darkness was unsettling. Eerie. It filled her with a familiar sense of dread. Breathe, Anke. There is always a logical reason for a blackout.
(The weather? No, unlikely. There was no storm today.)
She opened the door and peered into the hallway. There are no emergency lights. There is no candle in her room. Dread mixes with frustration in the pit of her stomach. This situation is more difficult than she thought it would be. Fingers trailing the walls, Anke made her way towards the stairs. Someone must know more.
(It could have been a malfunction. It happened all the time in Berlin. At the most inconvenient of times, of course.)
She should have noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. In her defense, the theories her mind presented demanded her full attention, even if that meant colliding with something - a person - at the bottom of the stairs. She jolts backward, nearly hitting the wall with her back. “Uh,” her voice wavers, “who did I just bump into? Are you alright?”
the voice that came from the other was a little pathetic, the apology coming for something that macie had done. “ i almost took you out and you’re apologizing to me? ” she scoffs, free hand tightens into a fist while the other tightens around the knife. “ i’m fine, are you fine? ” she asks, raising a brow though it’s impossible to see in the dark. “ it’s macie, by the way. i think that’s anke, but i couldn’t be sure. ”
a quick flicker caused a head turn. a second flicker caused fionn to get up from his desk. — then the lights went out. he tried to reach forward to his desk, trying to find the candles and the lighter he had. he was used having sometimes the power going out, especially during heavy storms. he did always make sure that he had candles and matches. of course, he couldn’t find what he was looking for. a frustrated sigh as he shuffled his way to the door. he could tell where that was at least.
he put his hand out against the wall, fingers spread wide and slightly in front of him. cautious footsteps forward, listening for anything that could mean danger. one step at a time. he absolutely strained to hear anyone — anything. it was so eerily quiet, like a pin could drop.
❝ —— oof, ❞ he lets out the breath was held. body tenses as he turns, hands up in fists ready to fight. he was war-trained and instincts honed. fionn could take on anyone without a second thought. survival was his main thing right now, no matter who he was going to meet and greet during this absolute darkness. he couldn’t see who it was but the voice was higher pitched. ❝ who are you ? ❞
although his silhouette is darkened against the backdrop of the hall, she can see the shift of his arms and the way they are braced. it’s a gut reaction for him, she’s sure. it stings a little that it’s used in defense against her, as if she’d ever hurt him. rather than using that knife in defense, she uses it to protect the both of them, the blade pointed outward at her side. “ throw a punch at me, macdonagh, and we’re going t’have more problems than just the power being out, ” it’s not an actual threat, just a quip to break the tension of the space. “ besides, y’know i could take you on my worst day. ” she wonders if he can hear the smile in her voice. she reaches out to circle one of his fists with her free hand, squeezing the knuckles, “ breathe. ”
you needed a community to survive. bonnie had learned that before she was even weaned, before she began to speak. if your livestock die one year, if your harvest is plagued by insects and vermin, you don’t make it if your neighbors don’t step up to help. it was maybe the hardest thing about the hotel, being wrenched from her family, not knowing who here was telling the truth, what other people might have done to deserve this. bonnie had lived her life on stable soil and now far too often she felt as if she was tumbling through the air.
still clutching the items she’d been holding when the lights went off she finally made it safely down the stairway. maybe there would be more people down here, maybe even someone who knew what had happened with the lights. the candles glowing provided some relief and she hurried over to sit in their light. the room was silent for a while and she began to regret being in the light. so close to them, she couldn’t see out into the shadows, and it was as if she were all alone in the world. at last she heard footsteps and her heart leapt. ‘hello?’ she called out into the black. ‘are they- has anyone found out what’s going on?’
there was no perceived threat within the raven house that macie could find. it had taken a couple hours and a couple drinks before the bowie knife had made it back into the sheath on her left thigh. she was dependent on her fists now, on reacting in the dark and being fast enough to stop whatever came from the shadows if need be. she’s quick on her feet, descending the stairs without a sound before her converse hit hardwood. there’s an arched brow when the other calls out, macie can see her features illuminated properly by the candlelight she’d sat herself in. it seemed dangerous, to lurk in the light. “ ah — no, i don’t think so. ” she mutters in reply, “ i don’t know if someone has been stupid enough t’go down into the basement alone; place gives me the heebie jeebies, personally. ” she approaches just outside of the rim of bright light, letting at least the dim light illuminate her.
music cuts, lights go out; the quiet hits her first. do you know what it is like to sit in silence? you still hear tchaikovsky in your dreams. unease settles, and she washes it down with the rest of her scotch. if this malfunction is out of her hands, then at least she refuses to be scared.
someone takes the seat across from her, though she can’t make out their features in the dim candlelight, the only illumination left. and what a pathetic glow it is—for all its opulence, the raven house should sorely invest in working lightbulbs. “ i don’t suppose you are an electrician, ” she says dryly, pouring herself another glass before holding the decanter out. “ drink? ”
macie settles, ungracefully, onto the stool of the bar. her bowie knife catching the candlelight as it clatters onto the counter. it was never far from her fingertips, never far from being wielded. she leans an elbow on the counter, her head falling into an open palm. this was beginning to border on ridiculous. how long before all the candles burned down and they were left to suffer in the dark? she doesn’t respond to the question, but free hand reaches out for the decanter. she’s tempted to take a swig straight from it. in the dark, who would judge her? “ i need several, ” she responds in kind, pouring enough liquid to be considered a double before sliding the decanter back.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the glass which had been so idly placed in his hand moments before, had been set down somewhere in the parlour. after taking a few steps, the young man came to accept that he would likely never find it again in this lighting. and so, he abandoned it. who knew, perhaps this would be the first time something would collect dust in the raven house. a part of him was delighted to find out, another yearned for the return of his glass. alas he began his journey through the dark, fingers trailing against the wall in the hopes they would guide him toward the door.
it didn’t bother him much– as a matter of fact it didn’t bother him at all. perhaps, he should have been more wary of what lurked in the shadows. perhaps he should have quivered, frozen or at the very least demonstrated some semblance of disapproval. instead, the young man found acceptance. this was nothing new to him– it was comforting even. comforting to know that this gilden cage didn’t function flawlessly. he learned to be wary of things that were too good to be true– for they generally housed the most twisted secrets. and this place? it was but a well-oiled machine. each gear falling into place, running effortlessly like clockwork. it seemed only natural something should go wrong. even a clock had to be rewound eventually.
lost in his thoughts the young man barely noticed another figure approaching– the moment he did, it was already too late. bodies collided and he stumbled back within an instant. icy blue hues searching for an outline, at the very least, of the person he had run into. ‘ merde ! ‘ it felt only natural for him to slip into the tongue so familiar to him when in a state of surprise, ‘ est-ce que– ‘ ah right, he wasn’t in paris anymore. he wasn’t at home… and so he corrected himself, ‘ are you ok? ‘
the curse that passes the others' lips sends her spiraling back to high school, sitting in a classroom with guys that wore too much cologne and girls who thought perfume would make them more attractive. she blocks mac from her memories, it’s not worth the seizing of her heart that she knew would follow. her brow creases as she attempts to follow the flow of french from the others lips, but she’s fairly lost. her understanding doesn’t go past basic on a good day. there’s a quiet feeling of relief when he switches to english, though broken. at least it was something she could understand. “ ‘m fine, ” she mutters, though her fingers tighten on the blade. “ you good? not, like, hurt or anything? ” macie was fairly certain she hadn’t nicked him with the blade, but in the dark it was hard to tell for certain.
chapter : book i, chapter i location : bar & longue tagging : @cherrydiversion
‘ it’s like, harder to tell if you’re lying in the dark, ’ tommy observes, one eye squinting, the other shutting, and the rest of his face twisting up to meet it. as if that would help him think, or perhaps see, better, and discern whether or not macie was bluffing. in the flickering of the three candles that they had gathered, it had a somewhat eerily effect, although more in the vein of early monster movies rather than something genuinely frightening. after a second it returns to his usual expression when they play, the tip of his tongue curling just slightly over his bottom lip.
the darkness he complained of, however, was likely more in his benefit; he was better at card tricks than actually playing cards, and tended to wear his emotions like brightly colored shirts. he considers for a moment longer, before sliding over a single dose packet of ibuprofen and a blowpop, both acquired from the lobby convenience store, which he considered enough to match her bet.
macie pauses, mid chew, with her soft pretzel raised for another bite as he speaks. she prided herself on a strong poker face, it came with the territory of her work. there’s a moment of silence as she observes him. sometimes she wondered about him, she really did. “ it’s … harder. ” she repeats those two words, cards held in between her fingers. “ considering that you don’t win these, like, ever, this shouldn’t be more difficult. ” she pops the rest of the pretzel piece into her mouth, reorganizing the cards in her hand. it wasn’t the worst hand she’d been dealt, but it certainly wasn’t the best.
she looks back up to him after a moment, that expression only shifting to something more warm when she breaks away from her cards. she snorts, takes one of the candle sticks and slides it closer to their hands to confirm that, yes, he’d just put down a single dose pack of ibuprofen. the blowpop fell well into their bets ( she’d slid a baby bottle pop and a cry baby forward, and no that wasn’t pointed ), she wasn’t sure about that one. “ ibuprofen? really? ” she asks with an arched brow. she leans back into her barstool, “ flush, ” she says, sliding her cards together from the fan they were in. “ you know what sucks the most about all this? my lava lamp doesn’t even work, ” that was genuine annoyance in her voice, she really did like the way the colors lit up her walls at night.
Rory had always been someone who was vehemently adverse to boredom, so he had become the master of creating his own fun - a class clown responsible for more than a few grey hairs on his parents and teacher’s heads. Raven House was no different. Yes, every day seemed set to a default, but Rory still found ways to keep himself entertained. One of the ways that he’d found to entertain himself was ordering new clothes in the vaguest of terms from the front desk in order to see what he would get. Rory had never really put much thought into his clothing before, but Raven House was presenting him with a whole new awareness of fashion. Or his lack thereof.
He had collected his latest order from the front desk earlier this morning and was trying it on in his room when the lights went out, which at least gave him the excuse of saying that he’d gotten dressed in the dark.
Dressed in a sleeveless tunic that was too large, a pair of green pants with brass trim which were too tight, and blindingly white tennis shoes, Rory stepped out into the hall to investigate if everyone else had lost power as well. It was quickly apparent that they had, and he could hear the sounds of scrambling and distress from several different directions. Luckily for him, Rory’s restlessness had kept him exploring the hotel like a hamster in a wheel for the past however-many-years he’d been here now, so his knowledge of the hotel’s general layout was well configured in his mind.
He started towards the stairwell only to find himself colliding with another person, his hand grabbing their arm in an attempt to keep from pushing them down the next set of stairs. “Hey,” He spoke quickly, well-aware that he didn’t want or need to add to the panic of the situation. “Are you okay?” He asked, letting go of them and taking a step backwards. “I take it the entire building is out?”
he’s lucky he grabbed for her left arm, lucky he didn’t try to steady her by her hand, else he would have ended up in a position far less favorable. the metal is cool under her palm, slowly coming to be the same temperature as the rest of her. her jaw clenches slightly. in the dark she can see the outline of his form, the silhouette from the very little candlelight finding its way up the stairs, but not much else. she steps out of his grasp at the same time he lets go. “ ‘m fine, ” she huffs out. she was always fine, that’s what she had to be. there’s a moment where she thinks about slipping the knife back into the sheath. there’s another body with her, someone likely taller and broader than her. someone she can hide behind if need be for the selfish reason of wanting to stay alive and not her lack of survival skills. she still keeps the knife. “ yeah, ” she blows out, “whole place is out as far as i can tell, can’t even hear the generators, ” assuming they had generators. it only occurs to her after there is a lull of silence, a moment to try to figure things out, that she realizes the polite thing to do would be to ask if he’s okay. she had knocked into him, afterall. “ are – uh, you good or … ? ”
timestamp: —— , NULL . · location: where else? the raven house , MADNESS TAKES IT’S TOLL . · tagging: open for everyone !
when the power flickered the first time, macie thought maybe she was seeing things. maybe the exhaustion or the stress or something had finally caused her to snap. but then it happened again, and again, until finally the power disappeared completely, leaving the room with a gentle hum. “ shit, ” the word is blown out on a soft breath. fingers instantaneously slide down her thigh to reaffirm that the bowie knife, her safety net, was still within reach as if it ever left. it lessens the tightening in her chest. she fumbles around in the dark for the candle that is kept on the desk in her room. she’d only thought it was decorative. when her fingers finally find purchase on it, she realizes there’s no point. she doesn’t have a light.
stepping into the hall does nothing to help the uneasiness that has settled into her stomach. no emergency lights. what kind of fucking nightmare was this? there’s something, maybe it’s anxiety or knowing she’s been caught in situations like this before, that makes her grip the bowie. using her other hand, she feels down the wall as she walks for the dip that will lead to the stairs. it’s only when she hits the bottom that she runs clear into another body. “ fuck! ” c’mon sullivan, you’re better than that — but hey, at least you didn’t stab them.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
( ZOEY DEUTCH, CIS WOMAN, SHE + HER — oh gosh, sorry MACIE SULLIVAN ! i didn't see you there ! y'know, i can't believe you're already TWENTY EIGHT years old; seems like just yesterday you were tripping over yourself, or was that yesterday ? just kidding, just kidding ! anyway, i hear that you've been here since 2000, or so you think; congratulations ! at least that shining DECISIVE personality of yours hasn't changed a bit, especially that FREE-SPIRITED + INDEPENDENT, but RECKLESS + UNRELENTING way about you. look, i gotta get back to the group, but i'll see you around !
WHERE & WHEN DID YOU CHECK IN?
it was a little podunk motel off route 50. all she’d wanted was a place with a heater that actually worked, a hot shower, and a bed that had a real mattress as opposed to the back seat of some schmuck’s car or her own. she’d gotten all of those things in the end, those last three wishes for something selfish.
the bed was so much softer in the morning — she wrote it off as exhaustion, as never truly sleeping anymore, not with her sensitivity to sound and the knife she kept under her palm beneath her pillow. when she opened her eyes, she spent a good few minutes blinking at it. how tired had she been last night? that dark paneling was definitely not the grimy motel wallpaper she’d been certain she’d seen.
she writes this, too, as her lack of observation as of late. she showers again, changes into fresh clothes and bundles up. she pulls the door to her room open and is face with another wall. a hallway. she closes the door, opens it again. no — this wasn’t right. she’d walked directly into her room from the chill last night, she’d parked the convertible right outside the room to listen for the alarm, just in case.
her chest constricts tightly, her breathing becoming shallow as she closes the door and opens it a few more times. she hasn’t felt panic like this since she’d woken up in that basement, since she’d screamed her throat raw, screaming for him. the lights are bright, luminescent — they remind her of something, the doctor’s questions in the hospital. she repeats the information to herself now with correct answers : it is march 3rd, 2000, george w. bush is president, her name is macie sullivan and she’s twenty eight years old. it is march 3rd, 2000, george w. bush is president, her name is macie sullivan and she’s twenty eight years old. it is march 3rd, 2000 — or is it?
WHAT WENT WRONG?
it was freezing that night — anywhere north of florida wasn’t kind when the winter months finally hit their peak. they were particularly unkind to macie because the damn roof of the convertible hardly kept out the chill anymore. she had driven until her knuckles ached and her teeth were chattering. she refused to look in the visor mirror because she knew what she would find: pale countenance, blue lips, and eyes that didn’t quite belong to her anymore.
she was supposed to meet [REDACTED] in philadelphia tomorrow, but the cold was starting to become unbearable. her muscles would start to ache with it if she kept going. there was no way she could drive through the night, not like this, and especially not with the beginnings of snowfall that brushed over her windshield, the flakes that came through the roof melting against her already frozen skin.
if she could make it through maryland, at least get into pennsylvania, she could make the rest of the drive in the morning when she wasn’t frozen solid and starving. she crossed the border and pulled into the first motel she could find off the interstate. the vending machine was held her favorite a la carte menu of oreos, gatorade, and stale popcorn, but it was enough. it stopped the growling in her stomach. she paged [REDACTED], her burner cell ringing in her bag barely a moment after she’d sent off the ping.
it was a long conversation, heated, yet it did nothing to physically warm her. she owed him money, had been roped into his employment for a lack of better phrase. he’d picked her up when she was lost, ensnared her in a devil’s deal, and only her blood or cold cash would return that debt. she has to explain that there was no fucking way she was driving in the weather, that she would leave early tomorrow and make her mark as planned. she hated that she had to be at his beck and call, that if she hadn’t paged he’d be just as mad.
it’s not long after that she goes through the routine of warming up, a hand coming up to periodically rub at the scar through her eyebrow that ached when the tension in her body got particularly bad. eventually, she settled into bed, but she’s beginning to wish she hadn’t.
maybe she should have risked it all, driven through the cold and the snow, because she wasn’t sure where she ended up was worth what she’d paid.
WHY WERE YOU BROUGHT HERE?
there was a time in macie sullivan’s life when she would be described as obliging. she would bend to the will of anyone who asked, easily influenced by the emotions she felt and the thrill of life. she was easily wrapped around his finger, complacent and meek. yet, her smile could have outshined the sun back then, her laughter akin to bells. he, for all that they had done, made her happy. she had loved him.
she’d grown a lot in five years. so much so, it would be much easier to look at the young woman with a scar on her brow and a near permanent scowl and call her decisive. she knew what she wanted and three different ways, on any given day, of how to get it. the money she made didn’t mean all that much any more.
in five years she’d saved double what they’d planned for paris and yet, she felt nothing. it was easier that way, to force the emotions down and away rather than embrace them. she spent so long hurting. she spent so long asking why to questions she may never get the answer so. now, doing what they planned was what kept her mind busy, what kept her from losing it completely. it was the last shred of him that she could hold onto, the last part of him that she could keep alive.
WHICH ITEM IN YOUR POSSESSION IS THE MOST IMPORTANT?
it’s a bowie knife. there’s no other way to describe the thin, eight inch blade that is sheathed and strapped to her left thigh at all times. she’s had it for longer than anyone she speaks with regularly knows. he gave it to her. when they started all of this, he’d given it to her for protection and she’d given him a promise that she would stab anyone who got in their way with a lighthearted smile.
it had scared her then: the weight of the metal in her palm, the thought of having to use it. she has learned since then. knuckles and fingers have been broken in more than one place, ribs have been broken, healed, and broken again. she has molded herself into a weapon to be wielded, when needed, beyond her soft smiles and alluring gaze. she has lured more than one to death if they begin to stick their noses where they don’t belong; her hands are not clean of blood.
the bowie knife is used as an extension of self, though not frequently called to action. it is kept on her person as a comfort and a promise. they were going to do this together. if she was going to do it alone, continue alone, she was going to make damn well sure that he was there with her anyway.