He Didn’t Purposefully Fall Down the Stairs
“We’ll rid your home of any disturbances in no time, Mrs. Greenberg,” Lockwood promised, charm turned on at the max despite—or perhaps, to make up for—the bruises on his chin and cheek. There was bruising all over his body from their last case; he’d fallen down a staircase in an effort to keep the Visitor at bay whilst Lucy had secured the Source. She and George had practically begged him to stay home for this case, but, Lockwood being Lockwood, he’d refused.
“Thank you, Mr. Lockwood,” Mrs. Greenberg muttered, watching her cab head towards the house. “Stay safe, please. I’d rather not have three more Visitors in the home.”
Lockwood gave her a wide smile and a nod before she rushed off towards her ride, scrambling inside the car and driving off. “Such a lovely woman,” he said sarcastically under his breath, staring off at the cab even as it disappeared into the distance.
“Don’t die, as it would thoroughly inconvenience me,” George grumbled, readjusting his kit over his shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The two boys sighed and headed inside, leaving Lucy to keep staring off down the street. It was chilly outside, a cool breeze blowing through the fall night and rustling the leaves that were scattered across the road. She took a deep breath as she surveyed the area, noting the surrounding homes and vehicles.
“Staying outside, are we?” a ghastly voice said from Lucy’s backpack, the faint green glow coming from the ghost jar illuminating the front stoop of Mrs. Greenberg’s home. “I can’t say I disapprove. Leaving Karim and Lockwood to go in there to their possible yet inevitable demise… Now that’s something I dream of.”
“You’re absolutely vile,” Lucy murmured as she rolled her eyes, pulling her kit off her back. She peeked inside, slightly pulling out the ghost jar so she could see the skull. It was glowing quite brightly, casting an almost radioactive green light across her face. “I’m not staying here, I’m just… tired. And frustrated.”
“Ah, is this because of the whole ‘falling down the stairs’ incident? I think you’ve spent enough time moping over it. Blaming yourself is ridiculous. It was the fault of no one but the boy himself for his recklessness.” The skull emphasized its words by forming different annoyed and grotesque expressions around itself with its plasm.
Lucy scowled at the jar. “It’s not as if he was purposefully trying to fall down the stairs—the Visitor can take some of the blame, too.”
“Fine, fine… But the Visitor wasn’t the one who decided to continue to fight even after falling down that flight of stairs. He was almost ghost-touched—did you catch that? Quite sloppy of him, if I might say so myself.”
Lucy glared at the skull for a moment before shoving it back into her bag. “That’s enough from you for now,” she said as she zipped up her kit, ignoring the skull’s protests. “Maybe if you’d stop describing your dreams of my friends being killed, I wouldn’t hide you away so often.” The skull’s complaints were still audible to her even from inside her bag, prompting Lucy to close the lever on the jar before shouldering her kit.
“Any plans to join us, Luce?” Lockwood’s muffled voice called from within the house.
She cursed as she rushed past the threshold, almost slamming the front door behind her and heading towards the flickering light coming from the kitchen. An island sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by polished cabinets and new appliances. The light came from a candle that had been set upon it, left by either George or Lockwood, which illuminated the area with a soft glow.
Lockwood stood leaning against one of the cabinets, carefully reading the form Mrs. Greenberg had filled out with squinted eyes. Evidently, the candle wasn’t a great reading light. As for George, he was beside Lockwood, sitting on a cushioned chair that he’d seemingly pulled over from the kitchen table whilst he checked his supplies. They both looked up when she entered.
“Sorry about that, the skull was… talking,” Lucy vaguely explained, grabbing herself a biscuit from the tin George had left on the counter. At the expectant look the two boys gave her, she added, “Nothing important. Just being a dick, as always.”
Lockwood gave her an amused grin as George sighed and shook his head. “Well, as much as I oh so love hearing what the skull has to say, I think it’s time we go over the case at hand,” the slender boy said, pushing himself away from the cabinet with a slight wince. He was obviously still tender from the previous night’s events. “Mrs. Greenberg says here that she and her husband moved in a few months ago, but only recently they’ve been having issues.” Lockwood placed the paper down on the island for Lucy to see.
“Issues such as…?” Lucy prompted, eyes only skimming over the form. It really was difficult to read in the darkness.
“Some feelings of malaise, chills throughout the home, the usual. The main thing of note was an incident they had the other week, where their office had a few items and pieces of furniture collapse or fall over. Sounds like it was quite the mess,” Lockwood relayed before plucking a biscuit of his own from the open tin.
“Which is just great. Are we thinking Poltergeist?” George asked miserably, getting up from his seat and snatching a biscuit for himself. “I’d really rather not go up against a Poltergeist tonight.”
“No one ever does, George. And yes, you’d think items being moved and destroyed would be a Poltergeist, but Mrs. Greenberg also mentions how her nephew had stayed over a few weeks ago and had spotted some kind of hazy apparition. Apparently, she’d brushed it off at the time.” Lockwood sat down in George’s vacated chair as the bespectacled boy began reading the form on the island.
“You’d think I’d know better by now, but somehow it never ceases to amaze me just how ignorant adults can be when it comes to the Problem,” Lucy grumbled, brushing crumbs off her hands. Lockwood hummed his agreement.
George groaned in annoyance as he looked away from the paper and took off his glasses. “I wish she’d given us this information beforehand, then maybe I would’ve spent more time digging at the Archives,” he said as he frustratedly cleaned his glasses with his shirt. “It’s not as if I wasn’t already on a time crunch with how packed this past week has been with cases.”
“And that is precisely the reason why I think tonight should just be recon. Too much possible danger in having ourselves try and blindly search for a Source,“ Lockwood announced, standing up with a half suppressed groan as the movement seemed to aggravate his bruised body. Lucy and George just stared at him with surprised expressions on their faces, both equally shocked that for once Lockwood was taking a precaution rather than jumping in head first. “Now, I’ve not seen any death glows so far on this floor, but most of the activity has been concentrated upstairs. I say two of us set up in the office where our possible Poltergeist might be hiding, while the third stakes out the guest bedroom for whatever strange apparition the nephew claims to have seen.”
He looked expectantly at the two, their expressions of shock still stuck on their faces. After a moment of silent staring, he rolled his eyes and grabbed his chains before turning out of the kitchen and into the hall.
“I suppose I’ll set up in the bedroom whilst you two keep standing there in shock,” Lockwood called back to them, the sound of his boots heading up the stairs finally bringing the two back to reality.
“Did Lockwood just… take a precaution?” George asked carefully, looking over at Lucy.
“It seems like it,” she muttered, shouldering her own chains.
George picked up his kit, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Perhaps it’s telling of how much he’s hurting after last night,” he casually commented before following after Lockwood, leaving Lucy to curse him for bringing the thought to her mind.
Of course Lockwood would only be cautious after already putting himself in a situation that could worsen his injuries. At least he’d made it a point that they were only doing recon for the night, but unfortunately, that just meant they were coming back tomorrow.
With a sigh, Lucy exited the kitchen and headed upstairs. It was going to be a long night.