Spirit Lake Ep. 1.20

Roy stepped into Paul’s room making sure not to make to much noise. He didn’t want to wake Paul up.

"You came." Paul was sitting up, Charles’ journal in his hands. He smiled when he saw Roy.

Roy apparently didn’t have to worry. He walked over to the bed, pulling a chair up, and sitting down.

"Find anything interesting?" Roy gently took the journal out of Paul’s hands.

"No. Well, kind of. It’s kind of sick."

"Sex stuff?" Roy laughed, tempted to ask for details, but stopping short realizing the man he was talking about was his monster of an uncle. "Real kinky?"

"It’s not like that. It’s..." Paul took the journal back, and flipped the book open. "Here, read."

He handed the book to Roy.

July 7th, 1990

Brian no longer fights me. It makes like easier. Unlike his sister. She was impossible. I had to give up on her. It was to much of a risk. All the scratches.

Roy closed the journal, looking at Paul, shocked.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Roy’s voice was choked, and he could feel his jaw tightening. "Did my uncle..."

"No!" Paul took the journal back. "It wasn’t sexual. It was... he would steal Brian’s blood. It’s to bizarre to even describe, but he would steal little drops of Brian’s blood."

"What for?"

"I haven’t gotten that far."

Roy took the journal, hiding it in his jacket.

"When can you get out of here?" Roy leaned forward, kissing Paul gently.

"Well, Dr. Walker said I could leave in two days, why?"

"I want you to stay with me." Roy took Paul’s hand in his own. "It’s not really a moving in thing. It’s more of a... I want to take care of you until you can take care of yourself, thing. Plus, with all this weird stuff going on... I really don’t want to be alone."

Paul smiled.

"Me either."

They kissed again, then Paul scooted over in the bed, making enough room for Roy to join him.

They just lay there, until both of them drifted off to sleep.

-*-

The woman in the black cloak watched Paul and Roy from the bushes. She could only hear bits of what they had said, but she already knew that they knew to much.

"Helen," as the woman spoke, Paul’s former nursed stepped out of the shadows. "Do not rush it, but I want you to talk care of those two."

"And the journal?" Helen lowered her head, making sure not to glance at the cloaked figure in front of her.

"Destroy it." The woman’s voice was a sharp hiss. "Charles was stupid to keep it in the first place."

"Yes mistress." Helen bowed.

When the nurse finally looked up, the woman was gone.

Nurse Helen Fitch walked back towards the hospital, her mission clear. She would take that meddling Dr. Walker out in the process.

She would protect the society, and cure an annoying headache at the same time.

For the first time in years, Helen smiled.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.19

Roy put down his cellphone, slightly confused. His brain wasn’t processing much though. He had only managed to get a two hour nap in between leaving the hospital and opening up the bar.

He had to make sure Paul was safe, and that William stuck to his word, and kept that nurse away from Paul. He had been so paranoid he hadn’t left till the nurse’s shift had ended.

A young woman, probably early thirties, sat down at the bar in the seat right in front of him. She wore a jeans that were just a little to tight, and a had a few to many holes in them, and a top that could barely contain her small, but full figure. She tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder, and gave the bar a once over.

"How can I help you?" He smiled. Just because the rest of the world was going crazy didn’t mean that his business had to suffer.

"What would a girl have to do to get hired around here?" She leaned forward, making sure her cleavage was on full display.

Roy nearly laughed. She obviously wasn’t from Spirit Lake.

"Well, that isn’t going to work." He leaned forward. "You’re not my type."

"I can be any type you want?" She was whispering. "What type do you like?"

He pointed towards the rather large, muscular trucker who had sat down at the end of the bar.

"I can change your mind." She was practically purring.

"Many have tried, and failed." He stood up. "So, let’s try your resume instead. Okay?"

She sat back, seeming to relax.

"Okay." She fixed her top, covering herself up a bit. "First off, the name is Roxanne Baker. Originally from Chicago. Worked in a few bars there. I’ve been a waitress, did some bartending. One guy even had me doing his books. I don’t want to do books."

Roy nodded. She seemed like she would be able to handle herself alright at the Hub. It wasn’t the most exciting bar in the world, but sometimes, if the mood was right, a guy would get a little fresh or a fight would break out. Roy handled things fine with the aid of the bat he kept under the bar, but he was a little worried about leaving someone as small as Roxanne behind the bar alone.

"Okay, then here’s your audition." He pointed to a table towards the back. It was full of mostly local guys. They looked big and mean, but were mostly harmless. The worst thing any waitress had gotten from them before was a grab on the butt and a cheap tip. "Get that tables order."

She glanced over, took in her target, got up and sauntered over. Roy watched as she worked the guys over. They were like putty in her hands. Roy was impressed.

She came back, placed the order. Two pitchers of the cheap beer and a cup of nuts.

"You make it there and back without spilling a drop, and you’re hired." He handed her the tray.

She winked, and turned, walking over the table, and nearly got knocked over by Julie as his cousin rushed towards the bar.

"That does not count!" Roxanne gave a yell as she put the tray down.

"It’s fine. You’re hired. Hit the rest of the tables, and we’ll talk pay." Roy had to yell over the crowd, which had decided it was just the right hour to get nice and loud.

Julie looked like a wreck. She was shaking, her eyes were bloodshot, and she kept glancing around the place.

"What’s the matter?" He didn’t wait for her to speak and placed a shot of whiskey in front of her. "Drink that. It’ll calm your nerves."

Julie nodded, downed the shot, and he watched as her face tensed up as the bitter burn of the liquid hit her throat.

"Someone’s trying to kill me." She pointed to the glass, motioning for him to fill it up.

"Wait, what?" He didn’t pour. He was a little to shocked at what he had just heard.

"Someone has been sending me these flowers, black roses. Morbid, I know, and last night I found one on my bed." She stopped, looking around the room, the panic returning to her eyes. "They got in my house and put it right there, on my bed. I woke up this morning, and I felt like hell. I mean real hell. I look at the flower, and it’s leaking this weird... black slime. I watched a bug touch that thing and die in two seconds. Someone left a poisoned flower in my room Roy! Someone wants me dead."

Julie spoke so quickly that Roy wasn’t sure he understood what she was saying. He wasn’t sure he believed it either.

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"No." She reached behind the bar and grabbed the whiskey bottle. "I feel fine now, but..." She poured and slammed another shot. "Where did you put my father’s journal?"

"I hid it. Why?" He was getting confused.

"Look, whoever is doing this to me doesn’t want me finding out anything about my mother. They keep leaving these notes telling me to stop searching." She leaned in real close. "I think whoever did this is the one who cleaned out my house, not my mother."

"So what’s so important about the journal?"

"Well, you must have thought it was important enough. You hid it." She poured another shot. "So did my father. It was important enough to him that he created a little hole for it in the wall. I think they might have missed it when they first went through my family’s stuff."

"I’ve been reading it, and I have to say, there isn’t much there. Just a lot of bitter stories about how much your father hated people."

"Keep it safe, okay?" Her eyes locked on to his. "Do it for me. I may just be going crazy, but if I’m not, and that journal is important, then I can’t let it end up with the wrong people."

Roy nodded.

Roxanne walked back up to the bar, eyeing Julie as she placed her order.

"Sorry about earlier." Julie smiled, her face turning red.

"Don’t worry about it." Roxanne gave a little nod. "I’m from Chicago. I’m used to it."

-*-

The first thing Carla saw when she opened her eyes was Harvey looking down at her. The next thing she saw was stars as the pain in her head kicked in full force.

"What the hell happened?" She checked the back of her head. She wasn’t bleeding.

"I don’t know." Harvey helped her stand. "I was about to come down to help you out, and then you screamed. I came down here, and... " He pointed to the papers thrown all over the room, ripped to shreds.

Carla could see the volume cover lying loose on the floor. Someone had destroyed 1928.

"What happened?" Harvey looked like he was about to wet himself. "I mean, are you okay?"

"I’m fine. Got a nasty bumpy and bruised ass, but I’m fine." She reached back, and could still feel the piece of paper in her pocket. She let out a sigh of relief. "We have to clean this up."

She started walking, but made sure that her shirt was covering the little sliver of white sticking out of her back pocket. She didn’t feel like getting mugged again.

Carla started picking up papers and tossing them at the large garbage bin next to the copy machine.

"Who did this to you?" Harvey was helping, and moving a lot faster than she ever could.

"I have no idea." She stopped, sitting down. She could feel a small wave of dizziness come over her. "It all happened so fast, and it’s kind of dark down here."

"Should I call the police?"

Carla shook her head. She had what she needed, and the volume could probably be replaced. They kept more copies over in town hall, although she was guessing that the article about Moira Clawson would be missing in those volumes.

How could a bunch of old, and now probably dead, widowers be a threat to anyone?

She stood, then sat down again quickly, the room spinning a little bit.

"You should go to the doctor. You hit your head pretty bad." Harvey stopped, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled that the boy was touching her, but she couldn’t deny that his hand helped her from not falling over.

"I’ll have William check it out when I go check on Paul." She stood, slowly this time. "I’m going to go upstairs and sit in the office for a bit. Think you can handle this?"

Harvey glanced around the basement. He had already gotten half of the papers up already.

"Yeah, no problem. Go rest, but don’t go to sleep."

"I’ll remember that."

Slowly Carla made her way up the stairs, but she couldn’t help glancing back at Harvey. He was watching her, his face a blank slate.

A chill ran down Carla’s back.

"Is something wrong?" He smiled as he spoke, letting out a little laugh at the end of his question.

"No. Just nerves I guess." Carla made her way up the rest of the stairs, and into the main library.

She suddenly didn’t feel so safe with Harvey around. Something about the boy seemed kind of off today. She didn’t know what, but something about him worried her right then.

She stopped. She was just being paranoid. Someone had attacked her, and now everyone was a monster, out to stop her from telling the world about a woman who started a support group for widows and widowers.

Psychos needed to get the damn priorities straight.

Carla stepped into her office, and her breath caught in her throat.

There, on top of her papers, was a long stem black rose.

She ran over, grabbing the flower. She was not going to let this go on. When would they stop? When she had a dozen, or when she was dead?

She ran to the back door of the library and flung the flower into the giant blue dumpster. Even there the flower felt to close.

She went back, checking her desk for a note. There wasn’t one this time. She was sure there hadn’t been one on the flower. Did they just want her to know that they were here, and that they were the ones who attacked her?

"Carla?"

Harvey’s voice nearly sent her flying to the ceiling.

"What’s up?" She turned, trying to hide her nerves, but her hands were shaking to much.

"I’m all done in the basement."

"That was quick. Just man the desk for a while, okay? I’ll handle returns later." She walked over and began closing her office door. "I just need a few moments alone."

The door clicked shut, and Carla flipped the dead bolt.

Two Things...

First off, I am in a great mood today for one reason. Dean Koontz finally released the third Frankenstein book! I waited four years for the release, and finally I was able to sit down and read it last night, and I have to say, it was worth the wait. If you guys are looking for some quick, exciting reading then pick up the Dean Koontz's Frankenstein series.

Second, and this one makes me less happy. Spirit Lake just doesn't seem to be taking off. I don't know the reason, but I'm guessing the story just isn't catching ya'll like Fashion Victims did. So, here is what I'm thinking. Fashion Victims RAW isn't to a point where I'm happy with it yet, but I really don't want to keep waisting my time on a series that is failing. So, I have two more weeks of Spirit Lake prepaired. If I don't see an upswing in readers then I'll stop posting Spirit Lake and take a short hiatus and get Fashion Victims ready for publication.

I hate doing this, because Spirit Lake is a series that is kind of close to my heart, but I also don't feel like devoting time to something that no one is reading. So I'm giving Spirit Lake two weeks to pick up, and if it doesn't then it's cancelled. I'm going to need more than numbers though. If you want Spirit Lake to stick around, email me at rstringini@gmail.com . Let me know why I should keep the series going. Otherwise I'll end it early (really early) and fast track RAW and Season 2 of Fashion Victims.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.18

Julie awoke, her body drenched in sweat. She felt horrible, both emotionally and physically. Her body ached, and she was pretty sure that horrible odor she was smelling was coming from her.

She sat up slowly, and she felt her stomach lurch. Her hand instinctively went to her mouth, and her feet began moving her as fast as possible towards the bathroom.

After she had finished emptying out the small amount of food she had eaten the night before, she sat, leaning against the bathtub. The cold of the tiles felt so good, but every time she would get close to relaxing the smell of her own body odor would make her want to vomit again.

She stood, stripping off her clothes. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was greasy, and her skin was pale. She had dark circles under her eyes.

She had stayed up all night before, but it had never wrecked her so physically.

She turned on the water, and watched the tub begin to fill. The water seemed to hypnotize her. The shapes and waves of the light reflecting off of the clear surface allowed her mind, for a brief moment, to just empty out. The sound of her cellphone ringing forced her mind into reality. It had all the subtly of a brick wall, and it actually made her head begin to hurt.

As she walked back towards her room she was shocked at how badly her joints hurt. She was twenty five, but her body felt like it was eighty.

She flipped on the light in her room, and started towards her cellphone, but the rose from last night caught her eye.

It seemed to be... she couldn’t believe it, but it seemed to be bleeding.

She walked towards the small, wilting flower slowly, scared to get to close. She had never seen anything like that before. A thick, dark ooze dripped from the flower’s petals, and onto her table.

She reached out, but stopped, taking a step back. A centipede had made it’s way onto the dresser, and was crawling towards the small puddle forming under the flower. The second it reached the liquid, getting only as close as a few inches, it stopped, shook, and then died.

She grabbed her cellphone and rushed from the room.

Someone had tried to poison her! It wasn’t grief that was causing her to hurt so much, it was that damn flower.

She slammed the bathroom door shut, turned off the water, and dialed Roy’s number.

"Roy, where are you?" She spoke quickly.

"At The Hub, why?"

"I need to come and see you."

"I’ll be here till around five."

"I’ll be there in five minutes."

"What’s the matter? Julie, you sound terrified."

"I’ll tell you when I see you."

She hung up her cellphone, and stepped into the hot water, scrubbing every inch of her body. Whatever that was, she needed to get it off of her skin, out of her lungs, out of her body.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.17

Carla had tried to sleep, but no matter how hard she tried sleep seemed to allude her. Why had she been so hard on Julie? She had only told her the truth, but all at once, and when she was so tired, so beaten up after seeing her cousin nearly fall apart in fear that Paul was going to die?

She shook her head, chasing the thoughts away. It didn’t matter. Julie knew everything... well, almost everything, and Carla could clean up the mess later.

In her half dazed state Carla found herself in the basement of the library, fishing through old newspapers, looking for anything she could on the Black Rose’s. So far she had found nothing.

Still, something in her gut told her to keep looking. She felt close, and Carla had learned at a young age that it paid to listen to her gut.

She could hear Harvey walking around upstairs, and the footsteps gave her a sense of comfort. She was stuck in a very dark, very depressing basement all alone, and with things being as odd as they were it felt good to have someone close by.

As flipped through the old volumes a picture caught her eye. It was an older woman, very stern looking, her greying hair pulled back into a bun, and her clothing very proper, conservative. She sat, hands folded on her lap.

What caught Carla’s attention was what was clasped in those folded hands. It appeared to be a long stem black rose. It was hard to tell in a black and white photograph, but the headline of the article said everything Carla wanted to know.

LOCAL WOMAN FOUNDS THE BLACK ROSE SOCIETY FOR WIDOWS AND WIDOWERS.

That woman’s name was Moira Clawson, and at the time of the picture she was sixty seven years old. Apparently her husband had died and, in her grief, she founded the Black Rose Society to help people in similar situations deal with the grief.

Carla couldn’t believe that any woman who looked like that could help anyone with grief. She looked like the type of woman who would hit your knuckles with a ruler if you looked at her funny.

Carla checked the date on the article.

November 13th, 1928.

"Well Moira Clawson, you may be dead, but you’re the best lead I have right now." Carla sighed and dragged the large book over to the copy machine.

She was pretty sure that if she moved it again her back would give out.

She took her copy, folded it, and slipped it into her back pocket. Julie would want to read this. It could be Carla’s little peace offering.

She glanced back at the table she had been sitting at and sighed. Stacks upon stacks of giant volumes of collected newspapers made her back ache just looking at them.

She walked over to the small intercom located next to the stairs that led up to the main floor of the library.

"Harvey, could you come down here and give me a hand?" She let the button go and waited. No response. "Harvey?"

A small rustling sound on the far end of the basement made her pause.

She held back the urge to ask if anyone was there.

Suddenly, in a flash, a giant, flowing black shape rushed her, knocking her back against the cement wall. Carla heard the thud of her head making contact with the hard surface, and then there was only darkness.

Bits and Pieces

Hey guys, so I apologize for not having much up right now as far as personal posts go. Life on this end has been pretty hectic.

Anywho, I think I need to explain something about Spirit Lake. Due to work and all that fun stuff I really haven't had time to write and plot out a new series. Well, luckily I had the first nine weeks of Spirit Lake already written! If there are any flow problems blame it on the fact that each week was written as a complete piece, and I've been breaking them down into five episodes. Hence how uneven some episodes are in length.

Please stick with it. It's a little slow going now, but it does pick up speed soon. Although I do have to warn ya'll, it gets messy. Very messy.

On a soaps level, I have officially given up on General Hospital. The show has nothing going on that interests me. Every time I hear about a plot that may be good, it is then followed by either talking about Claudia and Sonny or Rebecca. I'm sorry, but those characters need to go bye bye.

One Life to Live is back to its normal fun self, and it is nice to see Vicki and Charlie get some screen time. A lot of the newer stories are amping up to be real winners, and guess what, they aren't all depressing! The Crayfish (Cristian/Layla/Kyle/Fish) storyline is interesting, and I love that it is giving Roxy even more scenes, and Matthew's battle with his parents over his surgery, and the nice light relationship between Rachel and Shaun is a good change of pace from where the show was a few months ago.

Young and the Restless is great. The stories are twisted and fun, but the characters are still human. I do have some issues with Phillip Chancelor the III. Seriously? That's why you faked your own death and put your family through hell? And they had to rewrite a whole lot of history to make that plot twist work. I guess once everyone gets over the whole "you faked your death because you thought we would disown you because you're gay" thing, and they hook him up with Rafe (who is still recovering from getting dumped by Adam) then it might pick up.

All My Children is... All My Children. The show has reached a level of high camp drama that cannot be properly described. It has a great mix of humor thrown in there, but the drama is always on high. And I swear, I think Kendall may have actually made a completely unselfish choice... and then Zach went and screwed it up.

As for the rest of soaps? Well, Summer stories are at their peaks, and will probably begin to wind down soon, but I recommend picking up a show before the summer ends. Relax, clear your mind, and escape for a little while into a world where no one pays bills, but everyone has either a)shot someone b)stolen a baby or c)been addicted to something (cough syrup anyone? Loving fans?).

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.16

Roy stepped into the hallway, and leaned against the thick plastic railing that lined the walls.

Paul had fallen back asleep, and Roy needed a break.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He was so tired, and he would have killed to be back in his bed, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Paul.

"How’s he doing"

Roy opened his eyes to see Dr. Walker looking at him, arms crossed, his face much softer, kinder than it was before.

"He’s better. He woke up. We talked." Roy couldn’t meet the doctor’s gaze.

"Good." Dr. Walker stepped into the doorway that lead into Peter’s room. "You being here helped."

Roy looked at Dr. Walker, William, and a part of him couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

"I’m sorry about how I acted before." William looked at him, the smile fading. "I wanted you to know that if I had my way you would have been there with Chester. I did try."

Roy just nodded. He was to tired to speak, and he wasn’t sure if hugging the doctor was the right thing to do at the moment.

William returned the nod, and walked into Paul’s room.

As Roy stood there, he could see one of the nurses watching them, a scowl on her face. Her eyes seemed to be boring a hole right into Roy’s skull.

She was an older woman, round, with a face that had probably seen better days, but not many. Even though Roy was looking at her, she never looked away. Instead she started towards him, walking slowly, her body rigged.

Roy could feel fear prickling up his spine. There was something about her that told him she wasn’t just homophobic. The look she was giving him was something else entirely. He couldn’t pin point it, but he knew he wasn’t safe.

He ducked into Paul’s room quickly, closing the door before the nurse could reach him.

William stopped examining Paul and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

Paul sat up, and Roy could see him wince in pain as he moved. "You’re all white. What is it?"

Roy didn’t speak. He didn’t really know. All he knew was that whatever that nurse wanted, it wasn’t good. He walked over, grabbing his jacket off of the chair next to Paul’s bed and threw it on. He suddenly felt cold.

William walked over to him, gently placing his hand on Roy’s forehead.

"You should go home. You might be getting sick."

The door creaked open slowly, and the nurse from before stepped inside, her face all smiles now, but when she glanced at Roy he could feel that same intensity from before.

He wrapped his arms around his chest, and suddenly felt the bump of the diary. He still had it with him.

"Doctor, it’s time for Mr. White’s sponge bath." She glanced at both men. "A little privacy please."

"Roy can stay. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before." Paul laughed, but it was quickly replaced by a grimace.

"Roy, you should go home. I’m serious. You don’t look good." William placed his hand on Roy’s shoulder. "You need to get some rest. Sleeping in an uncomfortable chair for a few hours doesn’t count."

"No," Roy looked at Paul, then to the nurse, his heart racing. "It’s okay. I’ll stay."

There was no way in hell Roy was going to leave Paul alone with that woman.

"Alright, but don’t push yourself to hard, or you’ll end up in here with him." William smiled and headed towards the door.

Roy went after him. When they were both in the hall he glanced around, making sure no one else was listening, especially the nurse.

"William, this is going to sound crazy, and maybe it’s just because I’m tired and paranoid, but..." Roy paused, not really believing what he was about to say. "I don’t want to leave Paul alone with that woman."

Roy glanced into the room, and he could swear that the nurse was watching him.

William looked at him, confused. Roy had to think of a good reason, and fast.

"I... I heard her talking. She said some really nasty things about Paul, and me... you know. I just, I don’t feel safe leaving him alone with her. I’m sorry."

"Do you want me to talk with her?" William glanced in the room, and Roy was sure he caught her looking out at them.

"No! I don’t want to cause any more problems than I already have. I’m just worried."

William nodded. "I’ll take care of it. On one condition."

"What?"

"Go home and get some sleep."

"You promise you’ll keep her away from Paul? He’s in bad shape, and I don’t want her getting him upset." Roy was surprised that he could lie so easily.

"I promise." William patted Roy on the shoulder. "When she leaves I want you to go home, get some sleep, take a shower. I’ll watch out for Paul."

When they had finished talking Roy walked back into Paul’s room, watching the nurse the entire time.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.15

Julie paid the cab driver and found herself nearly running for the front door. She fumbled with the keys for a bit, but soon enough she found herself inside. She collapsed, her breathing has heavy, her body covered in thin layer of sweat.

She lay there on the cold marble floor, her eyes squeezed shut, and cried.

Had it all been worth it? Had she really escaped her father, her family? She was right back where she started. She sat up slowly, her arms shaking. She looked up the long stairway that led to the second floor landing, and she could still picture her father standing there.

She could see him, always in that same black suit, the deep lines on his face creating a permanent scowl. What would he have done if he had seen her like this? Would he have laughed, walking down those steps towards her, a smug smile one his face.

"Stupid girl," he would say. "Now you know what I’ve known for years. You’re poison. Just like me. Everything you touch withers and dies."

He would stand over her, his hands clasped behind his back. Then he would lean down, placing a hand on her cheek, and not say a word. He would just smile, his eyes peering into hers.

She could see it all playing out so clearly. How many times had he mocked her when she had cried? Even when her brother had died he had called her "weak".

"It’s your fault!" He had said. "You should have saved him. You should have been there to protect him you little bitch!"

He had slapped her that night. It was the first and last time he had ever laid a hand on her, but he made it count.

She had been in her room when he had come storming in. She could still see the fire in his eyes. He yelled at her, grabbing her by the shoulders. He shook her so hard that her neck hurt for three days after. There was a brief moment of stillness, and then he had hit her. The blow was so hard it sent her sprawling onto the floor. She had been stunned silent. He had said nothing, just watched her as she tried to stand, but only managed to fall back onto the rug.

"You’re poison." He had seemed to spit the words at her.

Then he had left. Her mother had tried to console her, but Julie had been so stunned she couldn’t even cry. The pain was so intense that she had just frozen up.

Now, even as an adult, she still felt that intense pain.

"You bastard." Her voice was weak.

Julie stood, her legs still trembling. She looked up those stairs, at the spot she had last seen her father.

When she had left he hadn’t spoken to her. He just stood there, watching her, that smug smile on his face.

He knew what was going to happen. He knew she would eventually come back to his house, to his memory. Even in death he knew he would still be able to control her.

"You son of a bitch!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. "I should have killed you!" She took a step forward, picturing Charles Kramer at the top of those steps, just as she had left him. "You didn’t deserve to die in your sleep. You didn’t deserve to just drift off. You should have had your throat cut!"

Even in her imagination he didn’t respond. All he did was smile. Then he raised his hands and clapped once.

"Very dramatic." His voice held that familiar, mocking tone.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them he was gone. She was alone. She brushed her long black hair out of her face, cleared the tears from her cheeks, and walked up those steps.

Being back in this house was going to drive her crazy, but she couldn’t leave now. She owed Carla, and Roy, and even Paul some time. She wasn’t going to let her father’s memory keep her from making things right for the people who had always been there for her.

She also needed answers. Her mother wasn’t the best, but she had at least tried. Victoria Kramer did the best she could under her husband’s rule. Julie would not let her disappearance go unsolved. She refused to.

She opened the door to her room, ready to collapse on the bed, when she saw it. There, on the comforter, was a small note attached to a long stemmed black rose.

She opened the note.

Your search will only bring you pain.

Be wise and end it now.

-The BRS

She ripped up the note, throwing the pieces out of the window. She was about to do the same with the rose, but something inside of her stopped her hand from flinging it out of the window.

Why waste a perfectly good flower?

She placed the rose on her dresser, next to the picture of her brother and her. It almost seemed appropriate there.

She sat on the bed, her head swimming. Then, before she could even undress, she lay back, her eyes falling shut, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.14

Julie woke up, stretched, and in the process she accidently knocked Carla right in the side of the head, waking her up.

"God, watch were you’re swinging." Carla rubbed the side of her face.

"Sorry."

Julie looked around the waiting room, but she couldn’t find Roy.

"He’s still in there." Carla yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "We should probably head home. Roy will call when he needs to be picked up. I don’t think it’ll be for a while though."

"You’re okay with that?"

"With what? Paul and Roy? Hell, I don’t want him! If Roy wants to burden himself with that monumental pain in the ass, then that’s his problem." Carla laughed.

"I still can’t believe you two got married."

"Neither can I sweetheart." Carla got up and headed over to the coffee machine, fishing through her pockets as she walked.

Julie just watched, suddenly seeing how much older Carla really looked. It wasn’t in her face, but in her body. It was the way she held herself. She seemed like she was constantly ready for a fight. When had that kicked in?

Carla had always been the calm one. She was the one who everyone turned to when they needed a shoulder to cry on. Now that shoulder was looking a little callused.

"You want anything? This round is on me." Carla turned, giving Julie a quick glance.

"No, I’m good." Julie paused. "How long ago did you two get married?"

"Three years." Carla started popping coins into the coffee machine. "You know, things were okay then. Roy was with Chester, and I was with Paul." Carla turned, leaning against the machine, her hands in her pockets. "You would have known all this if you called once in a while."

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. I know why you left. We all did. I can't blame you for running head first down that highway and never looking back. If I had to live with your father, I would have been high tailing it out of her the second I could walk." She sighed. "I don’t know how you lasted as long as you did."

Julie didn’t speak. She could feel the shame starting to creep in. She had been able to hold it off for a while, but now it was to strong, and she was to tired to fight it. It wasn’t her friend’s fault for the way things turned out, and she had punished them for what her father had done.

Carla sat next to her, placing the scalding paper cup of coffee on the small table in front of them. She didn’t look at Julie.

"I was pregnant." Carla looked down towards her feet. Her toe was tapping on the tile floor. "Paul and I got married because I was pregnant. After you left he kind of moved all those dreams he had with you over to me, and, well, I bought it. It was all working out to. We seemed happy enough, and we had a baby on the way, and then..." Her shoulders tensed.

"You lost it?"

"Yeah." She wiped a tear from her eye. "A couple months later Chester died, and then Paul started drinking, and spending more time over at Roy’s. I started drinking, and spending more time alone." She let out a small, forced laugh. "It was not a pretty picture. I’ll tell you that. It’s better now. It got better. Paul moved into his own place, and I sobered up, and... well, things are better."

Julie couldn’t speak. Suddenly she started to notice the little wrinkles forming around Carla’s eyes and mouth. Her friend seemed to be aging right in front of her. Every word that Carla spoke Julie could see manifest itself as another wrinkle, or freckle. She had been able to overlook those things before, but now, hearing everything, they stood out like battle scars.

"I need to call work. Tell them I won’t be coming in today." Carla was about to stand, but Julie stopped her.

She wrapped her arms around her friend, clinging to her. Julie could feel the sobs breaking in her chest, her shoulders quaking.

"I’m so sorry." The words were a watery mess. "I’m so sorry I left you."

"It’s okay." Carla patted Julie gently on the back. "I’m alive, and that’s all that matters. We all survived." Carla stood. She looked at her friend, a small smile cracking on her face. "You’re here now, and that’s all that matters."

Julie sat there, the guilt gripping her insides, ripping at her stomach. Her brain was to tired to process everything.

She pulled out her cellphone and dialed. She had to call a cab, to go home, to be alone for a little while. She couldn’t stay in that waiting room, looking at the people she had once called her friends and knowing what a horrible person she was for abandoning them.

Carla came back just as the cab pulled up to the giant sliding doors leading outside.

"I need to go." Julie used her sleeve to clear the tears from her cheeks. "I’ll call you after I get some sleep."

Carla just nodded, and gave Julie a tight hug.

"It’s okay honey," she whispered. "I don’t blame you."

Julie walked out of that hospital as quickly as she could.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.13

Paul’s eyes opened slowly, the light in the room hurting for the first few seconds, but the pain in the rest of the body soon shocked him right into consciousness.

He glanced around, not sure of his surroundings at first, but the constant beep of the heart monitor, and the smell of sterilization clued him in. He was in the hospital. He was alive, and after a quick check, he realized he had all his limbs, and they seemed to be functioning.

The night before was such a blur, and he didn’t have the strength to try and remember everything. It wasn’t important any ways. Not right now. He was alive.

He glanced to his side, and there, passed out in one of the chairs, was Roy.

Slowly, carefully Paul reached out, his fingertips gently touching Roy’s belly, tickling him lightly.

Roy woke with a small jump. He looked at Paul, his eyes wide, then he smiled.

"You’re awake." Roy gently took Paul’s hand in his own.

Paul just smiled, laying back down, a small shock of pain wasn’t enough to ruin this moment.

"How long have you been here." He was shocked to hear his voice. It was so hoarse and dry.

"A couple hours. I don’t know. I lost track of time." Roy leaned forward. "You should have seen Carla. She was going to rip the doctor’s head off if they didn’t let me in here."

"I’ll have to thank her." Paul paused, wondering if he should follow his instinct this time. "Roy."

He gave Roy’s hand a tug, and motioned for him to move closer.

"Thank you for putting up with me." Paul leaned forward the best he could, and slowly kissed Roy’s lips.

Roy sat down, tears running down his face.

"No problem." Roy laughed. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

"Well, the okay part could be argued. I’ll just settle for alive."

They just sat there for a few minutes more, not speaking. Paul reached up, placing his hand on Roy’s cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears.

Except for the dull pain in his ribs, Paul actually felt okay.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.12

Carla didn’t know why she couldn’t stay in Paul’s room. It could have been that just watching him lie there, motionless, all cut up and bruised was just to much for her. She hated the man, and she wanted nothing to do with him, but at the same time, she didn’t want this. She didn’t want to see him half dead.

At least he was breathing on his own. That was a relief.

Dr. Walker had been in a few times, and had said Paul would be okay, and Carla believed him.

Still, she just couldn’t sit still.

As the hours passed she found herself wandering back into the waiting room, watching Roy, all red eyed, silently beg her for some update with a single glance. She had been making the rounds from Paul’s room to the waiting room so many times it felt like she was doing laps.

Finally, around six in the morning, she just stopped.

She sat next to Roy, taking his trembling hand in hers.

"You should be in there with him." She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. "I don’t know why you do, but you give a damn if he lives or dies. So, you go sit with him."

"They won’t let me." His voice was a raspy mess. How long had he sat there crying?

"Like hell they won’t." She gave him a gentle tug and led him towards the doors leading to the patients rooms.

Dr. Walker stopped them just short of entering Paul’s room.

"You know I can’t let him in there." His voice was flat.

Carla turned, doing her best to look him in the eye. She ran her hands through her short red hair, and cleared her throat. "Dr. Walker, you gave this boy pure hell with Chester, and I swear to God if you try it now I will hurt you."

She kept her gaze, not blinking.

"It’s hospital policy. Family only." He didn’t back down.

Roy tried to speak, but Carla just held up her hand, silencing him.

"I may be family, but he’s the only one who gives a damn if Paul pulls through this. So, Dr. Walker, you are going to let him in there." Her voice was shaking from exhaustion.

Dr. Walker looked at Roy, and she could see him thinking, the way his eyes moved back and forth, from the room, to Roy, down the hall to check who was watching.

"Fine." He sighed. "Roy, if anyone asks, just tell them Paul woke up and asked for you. Okay?"

Roy nodded and headed into the room.

Carla stood there, not letting Dr. Walker out of her view.

"You had to bring up Chester." He turned, heading back towards the nurses station.

Carla followed him.

"You know Roy should have been there with him."

"The family didn’t want him there. We had to obey their wishes." He didn’t look at her as he spoke.

"Forget the family. They hadn’t spoken to Chester in years. Hell, they just wanted his bar, and thank God Chester had all his i’s dotted and his t’s crossed on that will of his, or they would have gotten it." She grabbed Dr. Wilson’s arm. "William, I know you are trying to play it by the book, but you have to learn to let some things slide."

Doctor William Walker stopped, turning to Carla. He looked just as tired as she felt. He smiled.

"What would that boy do without you?" He placed his hand on his shoulders. "I saw Julie out there. When did she get back?"

"Two days ago." She glanced down the hall towards the doors leading into the waiting room. "She showed up, and suddenly all hell breaks loose. I bet she’s wishing she never even stepped foot back in Spirit Lake."

"Are you glad she’s back?" He gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"I’m not sure yet." She stepped back, out of his grip, looking at her feet. "I need some coffee."

"You need some sleep."

"I’ll get that soon enough. I’ll talk to you later William." She turned, walking down the hallway, and into the waiting room.

Julie was asleep, curled up in one of the chairs. Carla sat down next to her, looking at her old friend, still wondering if she was ready to forgive her for leaving.

Soon sleep took over, and Carla found herself curled up next to Julie, her head resting on her friend’s shoulder.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.11

Julie met Roy at the front door. He looked surprisingly relaxed for someone who had to deal with drunks and degenerates all night at a small town bar.

"So, what are we looking for?" Roy stepped into the foyer, his eyes wandering from ceiling to floor.

"I don’t know. Clues I guess." She closed the door, and stood next to her cousin.

She suddenly felt like a little kid again. How many times had they wandered through the house playing detective? She could remember them hiding out in the old servant’s quarters, pretending that some masked murderer was coming after them. They would run, laughing and screaming down the stairs leading into the kitchen, and nearly scare the house keeper half to death.

She laughed.

"What?" Roy looked at her, confused. He checked quickly to make sure his pants were zipped up.

"Nothing, just... memories."

They made their way first to her father’s study. She didn’t expect to find anything, but she had decided that while they were looking for clues they would sort through her family’s old things. She didn’t need any of this stuff, and maybe somewhere else could benefit from it.

Pretty soon they had three stacks of books forming. Julie would keep some of them, mostly out of print mysteries or hardback editions of classic novels, and Roy would keep a few for himself. The rest she would give to Carla to donate to the library.

It was on the last shelf, towards the far back of the room, where she found it. A small section of the bookcase became dislodged when she was wiping away a thick layer of dust.

She could see a small space no wider than a bread box, behind the thin piece of wood. Had her mother been back there?

"What is it?" Roy was behind her now, looking on with growing curiosity.

"I don’t know." She hesitated, and before she could reach inside, Roy beat her to it.

She half expected him to pull back a bloody stump, but instead he held a small package wrapped in cloth.

He handed it over to her.

"You should open it up." His eyes never left the package.

Carefully she unwrapped it, and was surprised to find a rather thick, leather bound journal. Her father’s name was engraved on a small metal face plate in the center of the cover.

"Property of Charles Kramer." Roy read the engraving out loud. "You think your mom knew about this?"

"Considering everything else she through away? I don’t think so." She began to open the book, but Roy stopped her.

"Do really want to know what’s in there?" He looked her dead in the eyes.

"I... I kind of have to know."

"Alright."

She opened up the book, and they both started reading.

The first entry date was December 13th, 1984.

***

Julie closed her father’s journal. There hadn’t been anything of real interest just yet. Most of what she had read she already knew. Her father was a mean, bitter man, and it showed in his writings.

"Well, it’s a start. I guess we just have to keep reading to see if there is anything... important." Roy looked at her, obviously a little disappointed.

"I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel like reading two hundred pages of my father’s bitching." She handed journal over to Roy. "Knock yourself out."

"Are you sure?" Roy looked at the book as if it would suddenly come to life and try and eat his face. "I’ll tell you if I find anything."

Julie was about to say something else when the sound of a cellphone going off filled the large room.

Ray pulled his phone out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

She watched her cousin’s face suddenly crumble.

"What is it?" She reached out to touch Roy’s arm, but before she could touch him he was already running towards the door.

"It’s Paul." He didn’t look back as he spoke. "There was an accident."

***

The emergency room of the Spirit Lake Community Hospital was pretty much empty. Carla sat in one of the chairs, her arms crossed over her chest, and a very still look in her eyes. She lit up a bit when Roy entered, running to him, and wrapping her arms around him.

A doctor entered, looking at them.

"Are you hear for Paul White?" He spoke with a stern, flat voice. "I apologize, but I can’t give out any information unless you’re family."

Carla turned slowly, clearing her throat. "I’m his wife."

Julie looked at Carla, shocked.

When did that happen?

"Alright Mrs. White..."

Carla cut him off. "Russo. We’re getting a divorce."

"I’m sorry, Miss Russo." He cleared his throat. "Come with me."

The doctor held out his arm, pointing the door leading back into the main hospital.

Before leaving Carla turned, grabbing onto Roy’s arm.

"I’ll let you know how he is, okay?" She reached up, brushing a tear from Roy’s cheek. "I don’t know why you care so much about that bastard."

She gave him two taps on the cheek, and followed the doctor through two white, swinging doors.

Julie watched her cousin collapse onto one of the chairs. His shoulders shaking with each sob. She sat next to him, her hand on his back.

"It’ll be alright." She kissed him on the side of his head, pulling Roy close.

I hope I’m right.

***

The Woman in Black stood outside in the woods, watching through the Emergency Room windows. She had not intended to hurt anyone tonight, but right now she was glad she had. She saw, sticking out of the young man’s pocket, something that troubled her very much.

They had found Charles’ journal.

She turned, walking back into the woods, her long black robe blowing in the wind, exposing her naked flesh to the cool night air.

Her bright red lips curled into a smile.

They would be taken care of.

She let out a small laugh, then seemed to evaporate into a black mist, vanishing into the woods.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.10

Carla had found herself wandering through the stacks. The BRS hadn’t shown up in any of the computers. Maybe if she knew what the initials meant she would have an easier time with the search.

She stopped, sitting at one of the reading tables, and closed her eyes. Her head rested in her hands, and she just let the soft hum of the air conditioner clear her brain.

BRS? What the hell could it mean?

Suddenly it came to her.

Black Rose.

It was so simple. She couldn’t believe it had escaped her for this long. She was supposed to be the smart one, and she had missed something so obvious. The damn note was tied to a black rose!

She jumped at the sound of a stack of books slamming down on the table. She looked up to find Harvey, out of breath, looking at her.

"Any luck with your search?" His words came out in short, breathless spurts.

"No. Are you trying to give yourself a bad back?" She walked over and took some of the books off of the top of the pile. "I think I know where to start though."

She began shelving the books quickly, having been stuck in the library for so many years she had the shelves memorised. Harvey was struggling, and she found herself doing most of his work.

"You’ll get it soon enough." She patted him on the shoulder, and she swore she saw the boy blush.

"If you need any help, just let me know." He smiled, then vanished back into the stacks, probably heading back towards the front desk.

Carla smiled, and turned, getting ready to start her search a new. A figure seemed to dart past one of the aisles. She couldn’t get a clear view of who, or what it was. All she saw was a running black blur.

"What the hell?" She ran to the end of the aisle, and peered around.

No one was there.

A small chill ran down Carla’s back.

***

Paul sat in his office, just looking blankly at the white wall in front of him. He wanted to pick up his phone and call Julie. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner. They could catch up, have a little wine, and then... and then what?

He suddenly realized he had a little problem. Every time he started to think about that part of the date, the ending, it wasn’t Julie he was with.

He stood up, grabbing his jacket, and rushed out of the office.

He needed to get a drink.

It wasn’t until he was halfway to the Hub when he finally got the nerve to pick up his cellphone. He flipped through the numbers quickly until it landed on Roy’s name.

What the hell am I going to say to him?

He put down the phone. He wasn’t ready for this part. He had actually fooled himself into believing that if Julie was back in town then he would be fine. They would reconnect, and start up what they never got to finish in high school, and Roy would just be a distant memory, or maybe an occasional diversion.

Now he was realizing all to quickly that his plans weren’t going to work out. He grabbed his cellphone again, and the damn thing slid out of his grip. He turned, about to reach down to grab it when he saw the figure standing in the middle of the road.

He only got a brief glimpse of the tall woman, mostly naked except for a black hooded cloak, watching his car rushing towards her. Then he turned.

The last thing Paul saw before the world faded to black was a tree rushing towards the front of his car.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.9

Paul awoke, confused for a brief moment. This wasn’t his apartment. He looked around at the small, cluttered bedroom, and tried to remember where he was. Then he felt the warmth of the person lying next to him.

Roy was still asleep. He was turned on his side, his head nestled in the crook of his elbow. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Paul could see the fuzzy hair the speckled Roy’s chest.

He wanted to reach out, to let his fingers touch it, to gently tickle Roy’s chest, and wake his bed mate up.

He didn’t.

Instead he turned, let his feet hit the cold hard wood floor, and quietly began to search for his clothes.

How many times had he woken up in this situation? How many times had he said it would never happen again? He had lost count a long time ago.

He knew how Roy felt about him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to admit that he felt the same. He might very well be able to love Roy, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give up everything he had worked so hard for just to be with someone he wasn’t sure he even loved.

Paul’s toe connected with the leg of the bed. Pain shot up his leg. He bit his lip, trying to muffle a scream.

"You okay?" Roy sat up, his eyes still half closed with sleep.

"Fine." He spoke through gritted teeth. The pain was still strong. He prayed it wasn’t broken.

"Sit down. Let me look at it." Roy got out of bed, grabbing his big, white cotton robe off of the ground, and throwing it on.

For a brief second Paul was able to see what he was to drunk to remember from last night. Roy’s body was so thin, almost frail looking, and covered in a light layer of black, curly hair. Paul leaned forward.

"You don’t have to. It feels better already." Paul was lying.

Roy just looked at him. His face was blank. Paul knew that Roy wasn’t buying it. He knew how badly Paul wanted to get out of there. Still, Roy pulled open the drapes, flooding the room with the early morning sunlight.

He walked over, squatted down, and lifted Paul’s foot.

The toe was already turning black and blue.

Without making a sound Roy walked into the bathroom, and a few moments later he returned with some gauze and tape. He returned to his earlier position, and began to bandage Paul’s toe.

"You don’t have to do this." Paul felt almost ashamed for trying to leave so quickly.

"It’s broken. Just take it easy for the next couple of days." Roy didn’t look up at him. "I don’t care that you want to leave. Just don’t nearly kill yourself next time, okay?"

"It’s a broken toe, not a broken neck."

"Well, who knows. You go stumbling around in the dark, and next time you might break your neck. I don’t think a little wrap is going to fix that one." Roy finished working and stood up, walking into the bathroom.

Paul could hear the water turn on.

He knew that was his que to leave, but suddenly he didn’t want to. Yeah, he didn’t want a relationship with Roy, but he didn’t want to leave him pissed off.

Carefully Paul made his way into the bathroom, stripped out of whatever clothes he had managed to find, and slipped into the shower.

Roy didn’t acknowledge his presence. Gently Paul placed his hands on Roy’s shoulders, and felt the muscles first tense, then relax.

"You don’t have to take care of me. It’s not your problem." Paul spoken softly, his thumbs working small circles on Roy’s shoulder blades.

"It’s not a problem." Roy just leaned back, pressing his back against Paul’s smooth chest.

They didn’t talk, but just stayed there, under the warm water. Paul leaned down and kissed Roy’s neck. He didn’t know why he was being so affectionate. He knew this was going to send all the wrong signals, but he also hated seeing his friend angry at him. So he let his arms wrap around Roy, and just held him.

"Thank you." Paul let his chin rest on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy didn’t answer. He reached up, letting his hands wrap around Paul’s.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.8

Carla parked her lime green pick-up in front of the library, and stepped out, shielding her eyes against the sun. She could remember when she dreaded the sunlight. When she was hung over she reacted like a vampire, shielding away from the brightness, which only caused the pain in her head to intensify.

She didn’t miss those days. Sometimes she missed being able to forget everything, and just vanish into a glass, but what had that gotten her? She had a crushed car and a failed marriage to show for her drinking days.

She glanced back towards the Hub parking lot. Paul’s car was still there.

She could feel her blood begin to boil. She took a deep breath, and turned away.

It’s not my problem, she reminded herself.

The giant gold letters on the front of the Spirit Lake Public Library seemed to glow, welcoming her to another quiet day in solitude. It was going to be her, and a stack of musty old books for the rest of the day, and that was fine by her. Right now she was not in the mood to deal with people.

"Carla, you’re early." Harvey Ridge stuck his head out of the large glass doors, a big smile plastered on his face.

Well, it would be her, a bunch of old books, and a very happy College Freshman all day.

It was close enough to perfect.

"Morning Harvey." Carla smiled and waved.

Being around him always made her feel so old. Sure, she was only twenty six, but she had been through so much more than him. Not many years separated the two, but a whole lot of experience did.

Carla made her way inside, and stepped over to the main desk, signing herself into her computer. The library was pretty empty, and she hoped it would stay that way for the rest of the day.

"I saw you over at the Hub last night. I was going to stop over and say hi, but you looked kind of busy." Harvey was leaning on the counter, a big smile on his face.

"What were you doing at the Hub? You’re not old enough to drink." Carla tried to pay attention to the list of missing books that suddenly graced her computer screen. How could she have missed so many?

She glanced over to the stack that had yet to be checked in, and sighed. Whoever had taken over after her shift the night before hadn’t been doing their job.

"Roy lets me hang out there. Won’t let me drink, though." He gave a little "aw shucks" gesture with his arm.

"Good for Roy." She walked over to the stack of books and began to sort through them, matching up the titles with those on her list. So far, so good.

She paused, remembering the note on Julie’s gate.

"Hey, Harvey." She glanced up at him. "Have you ever heard of the BRS?"

He gave her a slightly puzzled look. "No."

She nodded.

It looked like she had her own little research project for the day.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.7

Julie sat up in bed. She was drenched in sweat, her chest heaving.

Bright sunlight poured into the room, giving Julie a little bit of comfort. Nothing could hide in the sunlight. No ghosts or goblins threatened to pounce on her during the day.

Being back in that room was startling enough. It looked as if she had never left. Her mother had torn the rest of the house apart, getting rid of so much, but apparently she hadn’t touched Julie’s room. She had even left the picture Julie had kept of her and Brian, sitting on the dock down by the lake, propped up against the dresser’s giant mirror.

She sighed, a buzzing sound stopped her trip down memory lane dead in it’s tracks.

She got out of bed and reached for her vibrating cell phone which was threatening to topple off the small table that had been set up right next to the giant window that overlooked the front garden.

It was her agent.

She sighed, smiling. A little business as usual is just what she needed.

"Laura, what is it?" Julie was happy to hear her voice sounded so strong, confident.

It was all a nightmare. She closed her eyes and rubbed her sweat drenched forehead.

She needed a shower.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.6

Julie found herself walking towards the family room, hidden behind two large doors. The house was dark, only the silver moonlight guiding her path, keeping her from cracking her foot on some ancient piece of furniture that her father had acquired over the years.

As she reached the doors she could swear she heard the sound of someone humming. The tune was soft, melodic and the voice was feminine, but aged.

She held back the urge to ask if anyone was there.

Gently she pushed the door open, and peered into the large, dark room.

Most of the furniture still had sheets on it, attempting to protect the priceless items. Still, there was one chair over by the large window over looking the lake. Sitting in it was an older woman, her long grey hair hung loose around her shoulders. Julie couldn’t get a clear view of the woman’s face, but she knew who it was.

"Mom." Julie stepped closer to the chair, worried that if she moved to quickly her mother would flee, or vanish.

"You came home. You finally come home to me Julie." Her mother’s voice was deep, rich. It appeared that age had effected everything except her voice.

"Where have you been?" Julie was behind the chair now.

"Right here. I’ve been waiting for you." Her mother began humming again.

Carefully she reached out, placing her hand on her mother’s shoulder. She pulled back, shocked by how cold her mother was.

"Mom, let me get you a blanket." Julie began to turn, to walk away.

Her mother stood, stopping Julie in her tracks.

"I’m fine dear." Slowly she turned. "I’m just glad you’re back where you belong."

Julie stumbled, her legs going limp, and she hit the floor hard. She tried to speak, but no words would come out. All she could do was make small, breathy gasps.

Her mother’s eyes had been removed, replaced with two black roses. Little rivers of blood streaked her face, and ran down her neck, covering the pure white nightgown.

"Mom..." Julie was finally able to speak.

Her mother lifted her arms, as if to embrace her daughter, then opened her mouth and let out an ear piercing scream. The window behind her shattered, spraying the room with glace.

Julie tried to get up, to run away from the ghoulish creature that resembled her mother, but she was glued to the floor, as if invisible hands held her captive.

Her mother moved so quickly that Julie was shocked to find her on top of her, her mother’s face inches from her own.

"There is no bother looking for answers you will never find. Now give mommy a kiss." Her mother smiled, revealing rotted, cracked teeth.

Julie screamed.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.5

Julie looked around, seeing faces she had thought she would never see again. The whole town had stayed the same. They had gotten a little older, sure, but everything, and everyone was just as they always were, and probably always would be until the day they died.

She watched Roy emerge from the back room, a frustrated look on his face.

He and Carla were the only people that she had missed while she was away. The rest of the town was take it or leave it, but those two had been her rock while she had dealt with her brother’s death, and her father’s insanity.

Paul was nice and all, but he had always been more interested in the idea of the Kramer family. He loved the idea of the wealth, and the prestige that went with the name. He was a gold digger from the first day she had met him.

"He going to be okay?" Carla reached over the bar, pulling a beer from out of the cooler.

Another bar patron tried to follow her lead, and nearly lost his hand as Roy slammed the freezer door shut.

"Don’t even think about it." Roy turned his attention back to the women in front of him. "I’ll wake him up in a couple of hours."

They all talked for a bit, drank a lot, and tried to ignore the fact that Julie had run out on them. She could feel the guilt building up in her stomach, and she was just waiting for one of her old friends to let out that drunken question that she was dreading. Why’d you leave?

Luckily that question never seemed to come. As the night wore on, and their state of intoxication increased, it started to seem like old times again.

In the span of three hours Roy and Carla had filled her in on what she had missed over the past six years. Mostly everything had stayed the same, although she was surprised by just how many people had died.

It seemed like the older generation was just kicking off faster than anyone could count.

"Well, I better get you home. You got lots of searching to do tomorrow." Carla, even though she had drank more than anyone else at the bar, sounded perfectly fine. She didn’t even wobble when she stood up.

"Searching?" Roy leaned forward. He was the only sober one of the group.

"Trying to find out what happened to my mom." A grey cloud seemed to fall over Julie, and she felt a small chill run up her spine.

"I’ll come and help."

"You don’t have to."

"She was my aunt. I want to know just as much as you do. I was here and I couldn’t even figure it out." Roy stopped for a second. "I’ll stop over around three. Okay?"

"Okay."

Carla had her keys out of her purse and was heading towards the door. Julie stayed behind, just to get one last moment with her cousin.

"You sure she’s okay to drive?" Julie watched her friend, waiting for the sure signs of drunkenness to show themselves.

"Don’t tell her I told you this, but she makes me give her club soda in her drinks instead of liquor." Roy leaned in close. "She’s been on the wagon for two years now. No one in town knows. Well, except for me. She says it wouldn’t look right if the town librarian admitted she was a drunk."

"Was it bad?"

"I’ll tell you about it later. You go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Roy gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and then sent her on her way.

Julie was out the door, and heading towards Carla’s car, her feet moving a little to fast for the rest of her body. She had to remind herself to take Carla’s example and skip the booze next time they went out.

They drove for a while, Carla not saying anything, but a kind of heat seemed to fill the air. Julie wasn’t positive, but it looked like Carla was about to explode.

"I can’t stand what that damn Paul is doing to your cousin." Carla kept her eyes on the road. "He’s been leading him on ever sense you left. You know that, right?"

Julie just sat, confused.

"What do you mean? Paul’s using Roy how?"

Carla just gave her a look. "I don’t have to remind you about Roy, right?"

"You mean Paul is..."

"No! Well, I don’t know. Who knows with that jack ass." She stopped in front of the gate to Julie’s house. "It just isn’t right. Roy is such a sweet guy. You should have seen him and Chester together. A lot of people in the town thought it was kind of weird, considering how much older Chester was, but they were happy. Then Paul would come crashing in and screw everything up." Carla took a breath. "I’m sorry. I..."

Carla seemed to enter a trance as her eyes fell on the gate.

Julie followed her gaze.

There, tied to the gate was a long-stemmed black rose. There was a note attached.

Julie got out of the car, and slowly walked towards the flower. She half expected the thing to vanish as if it was just some drunken hallucination. Her fingers wrapped around the stem, and she slowly opened the note.

"There is no bother looking for answers you will never find."

-The BRS

"Well isn’t that creepy."

The sound of Carla’s voice made Julie jump.

"Whose the BRS?" Julie looks over the note, the flower, but couldn’t find anything. "Are they some new group around here? Like a women’s league or something?"

"I’ve never heard of them. It’s just... well, who leaves someone a black rose."

Julie was asking herself the same question.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.4

The Hub was packed, and Roy could see that Paul was already pretty drunk.

"You should have just called the house." Roy placed another shot in front of Paul, against his better judgement of course.

He already could see where this night was going, like it had so many times in the past. Paul would get wasted and Julie would shoot him down, and who would Paul run to?

"What would it matter? She wouldn’t remember who I was." Paul held his latest shot in a wobbly hand, then tipped it down his throat. He cringed, slammed the glass down, and looked at Roy. "Hit me again."

"You’re already pretty..."

"I said hit me again." Paul leaned in close, his breath smelling like cheap whiskey. "I’ll make it worth your while."

Roy gave in.

Just as Paul slammed down his latest shot, and was about to ask for a refill the front doors to the bar opened up, and in walked their past.

Standing there, looking slightly more refined, but not a day older than when she left, was Julie. Right at her side, like they had never been apart, was Carla.

Roy was having flash backs to high school. It was always just the four of them, hanging out down on one of the docks getting drunk. Nothing beat the moon over the lake when you had five or six beers in you. Everything seemed to glisten with a foggy haze. It was beautiful. Well, it was beautiful until someone threw up in the bushes, or the cops showed up. Still, it was their time.

Julie walked up to the bar, a weak smile on her face.

At least she’s trying. Roy returned the smile.

"It’s been a while." He reached over the bar and gave her a hug.

"Don’t I get one?" Paul’s hand was already on Julie’s waist.

Without even giving her the chance to react, Paul pulled Julie into a tight hug, his boozed up body collapsing against hers. She seemed to strain under the unexpected weight.

"Paul, you got started with out us." Carla laughed and set Paul back into his seat.

"I missed you." That was all Paul could muster. It appeared he was using all his mental strength to stay on the wobbly bar stool.

"We all did." Roy didn’t know why he was speaking so softly. They were in a loud bar. He doubted they could even hear him over the drone of the music, and the loud clatter of beer bottles. "You could have given me a heads up you were coming to town."

Julie sat down. "I tried, but your number was disconnected."

"You must have called the old house. I moved out ages ago."

"Where to?"

Roy pointed to the ceiling. "I don’t just work here, I live here."

"He owns the place." Carla sat next to Paul, putting her arm over his shoulders to help hold him up.

"Oh? What happened to Chester?" Julie scanned the bottles behind Roy’s head, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

"Left me the place."

"Why’d he do that?"

Paul leaned in real close to Julie, and Roy could see her recoil at the sent of his breath. "He gave the old man a few happy endings, and Chester gave him the bar."

Roy’s face went bright red.

"Why don’t you take Paul to the drunk dump in the back?" Carla helped Paul off the seat, and started to head him towards the door leading to the storage room. "Might do him good to sleep off some of that booze."

Roy just nodded, and Carla transferred a barely able to walk Paul onto his shoulder.

"You guys trying to block me?" Paul did his best loud whisper into Roy’s ear.

"No, just trying to keep you from poisoning yourself." Roy pushed through the swinging door, and into the storage room.

He led Paul to the small cot tucked away in the far right corner behind a bunch of liquor crates. Paul had tried to argue his point for staying at the bar, but the words came out as nothing more than mumbles.

"Sleep it off." Roy laid Paul down, gently throwing the blanket over him.

Before he could even leave the room Paul reached up and grabbed Roy’s arm.

"You aren’t going to leave me alone back here all night, are you?" Paul actually looked scared.

"I’ll come back and check on you in a bit." Roy gently patted Paul’s hand, then released his friend’s grip, and headed back out into the main floor of the bar.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.3

Julie stepped through the large oak doors that lead into her father’s old office. As a child she had been forbidden to even enter this place. It been a total mystery to her. What kind of secrets did her father hide in there?

Whatever they were, they were gone now. Before her mother had vanished she had apparently gone through the entire house, cleaning up anything that was less than savory when it came to the Kramer family memory. The attorney had said that her mother had thoroughly lost her mind before she up and disappeared.

Julie was almost a little disappointed that she had missed those days. Not that seeing her mother crazy would be any blast, but it would have been nice to have some kind of glimpse into what had lead to her mother’s mental breakdown. As it was now, there were no clues. There was nothing.

She noticed that all the family portraits were missing.

There were no pictures of Brian left at all.

Her younger brother had died a year before she had left town. He had fallen off of the a friend’s speed boat in the lake, and had gotten caught in the propeller.

A sudden knock at the door dropped her out of her memories and right back into the present.

Julie turned, and there, looking as if she hadn’t aged a day, was Carla Russo.

"I saw the gate open. I..." She couldn’t even finish her sentence. Carla rushed across the room, wrapping her arms around Julie.

Julie was less enthusiastic in returning the hug.

"I’m glad you’re back." Carla’s voice was a mash up of her usual rasp and a mushy, mucus filled tone of someone who had burst into tears.

"I... I am to."

Carla broke the hug.

"Don’t lie. I can see it in your eyes. You want to rip your skin off every second you spend in this place."

"Never could fool you."

Carla gave her the once over, a curious, if not worried look in her eyes.

"How long are you going to stay?"

"I don’t know. Until I can either find out what happened to my mom, or sell the place. Whatever comes first."

Julie turned, walking to the desk. Her hands glided over the newly polished wood.

"Had you seen her?" Julie turned, crossing her arms over her chest, looking around the room. She couldn’t bring herself to look her old friend in the eye just yet.

"No. Well, I mean, in town every once in a while. She kept to herself. After your father died..." Carla cringed as if she had said a bad word. "She didn’t leave much. When she did she was usually a mess. Oh God, Julie it was real sad. Your mom used to be so classy, but then... she just fell apart at the seems."

Julie tried to picture her mother, a woman who had always been so concerned with her appearance, suddenly reduced to a babbling old cat lady. It both horrified her, and broke her heart.

"Come on, lets get out of here. It won’t do you any good to start rummaging through this old place right now." Carla reached over, gently taking Julie’s hand.

"Where to?"

"How does getting totally drunk sound?"

"Perfect." Julie smiled. It was the first time in a long time.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.2

Roy Jackson slowly wiped down the still sticky bar top. It seemed like the grime would never leave that damn thing.

The Hub had just opened, and already the normal patrons were filing in. He put on his normal smile, and went to them, asking what they wanted, even though he already knew the answer. It was the little ritual that made life in that damn town so maddening. There was never anything exciting.

Then he saw a face he hadn’t seen in years.

Paul White stood at the end of the bar, glancing around quickly, a rather curious look on his face.

Roy walked over to him, taking his sweet time. He didn’t want Paul to think that he was actually excited to see him.

"So, what brings your high priced ass into my little dive?" Roy leaned forward, regretting the decision as he felt the hair on his arms become glued to that same sticky grime that he had been battling two seconds earlier.

"Roy, hey. Have you seen Julie?" Paul didn’t look at Roywhen he spoke.

"What would my cousin be doing here? Hell, what would she be doing back in this backwater town?"

"You didn’t hear?"

"Obviously not."

"Julie is back in town."

"You’re kidding me!"

How had no one told him. His own cousin hadn’t even bothered to call ahead to let him know that she was visiting. Sure, she had made it very clear that she had wanted to cut Spirit Lake out of her life, but she and him had always had a special bond.

Roy froze. Why would Paul be asking for her?

Well, of course. The richest man in town was looking for the long lost, and recently famous novelist who escaped him after high school. Wasn’t that just perfect.

It didn’t matter that Roy was the one who had to nurse Paul out of his depression after Julie left. No, that was what friends were for.

Roy stopped himself. He was not going to get into that whole nightmare train of thought again.

Paul was straight. He would just have to live with that sad fact. Well, he was straight when he was sober. When he was drunk he was just horny, and Roy was always the one there to help him out with that.

"Give the house a call. Maybe she’s still up there." Roy turned, pulling his arms from the bar. The skin stung as the bar claimed a few hairs.

I wanted things to get interesting, and they did.

Spirit Lake Ep. 1.1

Julie Kramer stopped her car at the mouth of the gigantic driveway that led up to the old Kramer estate. She had grown up in this house, and had been so happy to leave it once she was eighteen, and now, at twenty five, she found herself there, at those giant black metal gates again.

She could feel her stomach knotting up as the gates creaked open.

You’re home again. That damn little voice in her head wouldn’t shut up. Maybe it was her father’s ghost taunting her from beyond the grave.

He was the one who always said she would return. He was the one who said she couldn’t escape her family, or Spirit Lake for that matter. It was in her blood.

She had always thought that her dad was a crazy old man, but maybe, just maybe he was right about this.

She gently hit the gas petal, and started the trek up the long driveway that led to the Gothic mansion she had once called home, and it seemed, for the time being, would be calling home again.

The End of Fashion Victims Season 1

Yes, this is the last episode of the first season of Fashion Victims. I hope you guys have enjoyed reading it. God knows I've enjoyed writting it.

Fashion Victims RAW will start up in the near future, and Spirit Lake will start next Monday. I'm not sure yet when Fashion Victims Season 2 will start.

Thank you guys for reading my little experiment!

Fashion Victims Ep. 1.66

Kurt lay in the ambulance, his head one big ball of pain, but at least he was alive. He had Gio and Rick to thank for that. Well, Gio more than Rick. His brother had nearly blown them all to little bits, but it was Gio who had rushed in and grabbed him, carrying him to safety.

"You feeling okay?" Gio gently brushed his hand along Kurt's cheek.

"No. I feel like hell." Kurt kissed his fingers. "You?"

"Same." Gio smiled and leaned down, kissing Kurt softly.

Kurt noticed a flashbulb go off, and his first instinct was to pull away from Gio, to scream for the paramedics to close the door, but at that very moment he didn't care. He just pulled Gio closer, kissed him deeper, and cherished the fact that they could spend one more day together.

***

Rick leaned against the police cruiser and watched as Barbi's dream house burned to the ground. It seemed almost comical in that sense.

"You're smiling? Why?" Barbi walked up next to him, leaning against the cruiser, and joined him in watching the fire grow.

"Barbi got her dream house, her dream job, her dream man, and in the span of a couple of months her house burned to the ground, her job was stolen from her and her man turned out to be gay." He laughed. "I don't think little girls think of that story when they're playing with their dolls."

"No, no I don't believe they do." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "So you're gay?"

"What? No. Why would you think that?" He looked at her, his face turning red.

"You said my dream man was gay. So does that mean you just came out to me?" She smiled.

He couldn't help but laugh. When this had all started they had hated each other's guts, but at that very moment he wanted nothing more than the drive off into the sunset with her.

They kissed, closing their eyes, ignoring for a moment everything that had just happened, and everything that had happened since before Eve died. They had no history, just that moment.

Just that kiss.

Fashion Victims Ep. 1.65

The sudden explosion jarred Barbi out of her coma. She felt herself being flung from the couch, followed by the hard thud of her ass colliding with the floor.

She opened her eyes slowly, and almost wished she hadn't. Her living room was engulfed in flames. It looked like a scene from hell, a place she was sure she was going to end up if she didn't start moving soon.

"Not so fast sis." Layla stumbled into the room, her clothes charred, her hair burned. She looked like a stumbling zombie.

"Layla, what happened?" Barbi tried to stand, but found herself suddenly very dizzy.

"Just sit back down." Layla smiled. "Don't fight it Barbi. Let the fire take you. It would have been easier if you were still asleep, but you never do anything the easy way."

She ignored her sister's commands, and stood, catching herself. She took a shaky step forward, and began to glance around the room, trying to find an escape route. At the same time, she refused to take her eyes off of her sister.

The heat was becoming unbareable. A few more minutes in that place and she would be cooked alive.

"Where's Kurt?" Barbi suddenly remembered that she hadn't been alone when she had passed out.

"I said sit down!" Layla screamed, her fists balled at her side, her eyes scrunched shut. "I said sit the hell down and die you bitch!"

When Layla's eyes snapped open Barbi suddenly realized that there was very little left of her sister in that charred shell. Whatever was standing in front of her was someone else, and that someone else was getting ready to attack her.

Without warning there was something Barbi could only describe as a thunderclap.

Suddenly Layla's body went rigid. Her eyes went wide. Then she fell to her knees.

Standing behind her, an unconcious Kurt hanging over his shoulder, a badly wounded Rick at his side, was Gio, gun in hand.

"Come on." He motioned for Barbi to walk towards him.

She took one careful step, then another. She started to pick up speed. That is, until she reached her sister's body.

Layla's eyes were still open, her mouth slack. She was dead.

Barbi felt Rick grab her arm, and pull her out of the living room, into the hallway that led to the main foyer.

"No!" A shriek rang out. Barbi turned just in time to see Layla sit up and reach out for her. "You can't go! You can't leave me!"

Barbi wanted to run back. Layla was still her little sister. She didn't want to watch her die, not like this. The only thing that kept Barbi from turning around and running to Layla was Rick's firm grip on her forearm.

Without warning the living room ceiling gave in, burying a still screaming Layla.

Barbi couldn't help it, she screamed. She tried to run back, but Rick had her, and was now pulling her down the hall, and then out the front door.

The second the cool, night air hit Barbi's skin, she passed out.

Fashion Victims Ep.1.64

Kurt stood up as the back door opened. There she was. There was the bitch who had put him in the hospital. She had tried to cut him open for crying out loud!

"How dare you even think of stepping foot in this house." He was speaking through gritted teeth.

"Kurt, what the hell is wrong with you?" Layla honestly looked shocked.

He knew better. He knew that she was playing him, that she had been playing all of them, all along.

"You nearly killed me." He took a step back. "You nearly killed me, and you put two other people in the ground. You're sick."

"You don't know what you're talking about." She took a step towards him, trying to close the space between them.

"Stay the hell away from me." He took another step back, his heel bumping the wall. "I saw you. I saw you drug your sister. Your own sister!"

She didn't reply, but he could see it, something change in her eyes. He shouldn't have opened his mouth.

She lunged at him, and he chucked his half full wine glass at her. The glass shattered on her torso, the crimson liquid splashing across the kitchen. It didn't stop her. She kept coming. He turned to run, but she grabbed him, her fingers wrapping around his neck.

"You are not going to wreck this for me." She slammed his head against the hard wood of the kitchen table.

He saw stars. The room was spinning, and he felt like he was going to puke. Then she did it again, and his entire world went black.

***

Rick rushed into the kitchen only to see Layla throw his brother's limp body onto the floor. He paused, and he knew that she wasn't going to let that opportunity pass. She lunged at him, and at the same time he drew his gun.

"I don't think so." She kneed him in the groin.

He felt his grasp on the gun start to weaken, but he refused to let go. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back the pain, and pushed, sending Layla stumbling backwards.

"What the hell did you do to my brother?" Rick was screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Kurt?"

She lunged again, grabbing his right hand. His fingers flexed, firing off one shot. They both watched as the bullet spiraled through the air, finding a nice target when it ripped through the thick metal of the stove.

Rick's eyes went wide as a ball of fire roared towards him. He held on to Layla. If he was going to die, then he was taking that crazy bitch with him.