Twenty-Two. [MSL Rewrite, Part One]

“Happy birthday to you…”

The Brooke Household

Macon, Georgia

4:53 PM

They were singing in unison, her mom and brother, as expected, their voices out of tune, both with the song and with each other. It was awful, and she almost wanted them to stop. Almost. Instead, she laughed, blowing out the candles as the song came to a close. Twenty-two. Twenty-two and more like a parent than she’d ever expected to be at this age. Growing up, life was an absolute shit show, and there was no way she could allow her little brother to experience everything she did. She wanted nothing more than to protect him, shield him from the world and all of the bad shit in it. With their father gone without a trace, something she still couldn’t understand, he wasn’t exposed to it all in the way she had been, and for that, she was grateful. That didn’t make the memory hurt any less though. They didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve it. What kind of a father abandons his family? His children? His wife?

Her mom hadn’t handled it well. She still didn’t, but Devon didn’t need to say that out loud for it to be true. In all honesty, she might have gotten worse over the years, and there were days where she shut out everything, everyone, and Aaron would be the responsibility of his older sister instead of his fucking mother. The house smelled, and she was positive her mother had started smoking again. She couldn’t determine just how many packs she’d gone through already this week, but it was more than one at the very least. She was probably a little drunk too, but she wasn’t sure. She could guess.

The creaking of the mail slot suddenly opening echoing through the house, she knew without even looking that their mail had been scattered across the wood floor like they didn’t actually have a perfectly good mailbox outside in the yard. The mailman clearly loved their mail slot, and she really didn’t feel like arguing with him. It didn’t matter. She didn’t linger on the thought, instead taking the knife from her mother to cut the first slice of cake. She didn’t make wishes on cakes anymore, it was pointless. That kind of thing never came true, and if it did, they weren’t her wishes coming true. It was like Santa and the Easter Bunny all over again. Pure disappointment and nothing else. As her mother excused herself to grab the mail, she dropped slices of cake onto plates, immediately handing the first slice to Aaron’s awaiting hands. She knew tradition meant she was supposed to get the first slice, for good luck and all that, but they didn’t work like that. He got everything he needed, everything he wanted. Anything for him.

“Oh my god…”

She hadn’t heard her mother so distraught in a while, and to say that she was worried was an understatement. Absolutely terrified was more like it.

She knew not to say anything out loud. She returned wordlessly, but she appeared to be on the verge of tears, and Devon knew exactly what was up: Dad, she thought to herself. In whatever capacity. Without making a sound, the paper, removed from its envelope, was placed in her hands. Her eyes scanned the page, taking in the words until she felt like she could no longer breathe. In short, her father was dead. Someone had found his remains, his body already decomposed, and they went off of the identification they could find. She felt sick to her stomach suddenly, her eyes stinging like hell, but she refused to cry. He left them! He left them behind after everything to hunt on his own. She couldn’t tell if his death had occurred during a hunt, but she had the sinking suspicion that it was something more than that.

Creatures didn’t kill and bury their victims. They ate them. They destroyed them. They made sure there was nothing left to be found later.

Unless… it wasn’t a usual hunt. Maybe it was something far worse than that.

According to the letter, his body had been found in England. Before long, they were traveling. The flight was paid for. If only she didn’t get motion sick. But, at least it wasn’t a boat. Silver linings and all that jazz.

Middle Georgia Regional Airport (MCN)

8:12 AM

She hadn’t expected to have to explain to a seven-year-old what death was, but that had happened the night prior. Considering their father had left when he wasn’t even a year old, he took it pretty well. Again, silver linings. The flight took off at 8:20 AM, which meant they were already in their seats ready to go. She was nervous, disgustingly so. She hated flying more than a lot of things, and there was something so pathetic about that. It wasn’t even that she was afraid of flying, that wasn’t the issue. No, she got motion sick way too easily, and being on a plane that moved quickly for a long period of time was not going to help that little problem of hers. She didn’t exactly handle amusement parks that well either, but that just kinda sucked. So much for a cute date to Disney World or something.

After the flight attendants did their little spiel and they were told to buckle their seatbelts, the plane set into motion. That, of course, meant that she immediately began to white-knuckle it. If the pill she’d taken, which was what she assumed borderline horse tranquilizer, didn’t work that well, the bathroom would become her new best friend for a while.

Heathrow Airport

4:57 PM

Walking through the airport, she genuinely wasn’t sure how her legs were still able to carry her, but not wanting to question a problem into existence, she continued to lug her suitcase behind her, a duffel bag hanging over her shoulder. She mentally patted herself on the back for not puking even once. There was a close call though, but it was fine. She was fine. Considering it a genuine accomplishment, she was silently proud of herself. They were on their way to the hotel, and then the next day… it was time to see Dad.

West London Coroner District

9:44 AM

The place gave her the creeps, sending a chill up her spine. If there was any place a spirit would be lurking, vengeful or otherwise, a coroner and mortuary seemed like the perfect spot. It might have been her job to kill the things that went bump in the night, and maybe she knew that she would likely be killed herself because of that later in life, but death still creeped her out. The mounds on slabs covered by sheets seemed to call out to her and she hated every second of it. Her dad wasn’t one of those mounds though. He wasn’t even in one piece anymore apparently. That didn’t exactly make it any better or easier.

While she still held her grudge over him for leaving, he was her dad before he was a stranger, and she still felt the pain of loss even if she wanted so badly not to. Because, maybe, deep down, there was a part of her that hoped that someday he’d come home. She didn’t even know if she would accept him if he did, but it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t coming home.

The woman – if she’d paid enough attention, she would’ve learned her name – led them into a separate room. Aaron clung to her; his smaller hand latched onto hers and not their mother’s. She didn’t think about that for too long. That wasn’t her main focus. Instead, her focus went elsewhere. Resting on top of a table were the loose remains of what was once her father, Joel Brooke. Along with the pieces of his skeleton were various other items apparently found with it. One item in particular was his wallet with his license in it. The name on the card stared back at her and it was in that moment that she nearly broke down for the first time in years. She’d been strong, she really had. She needed to, for her mom and her brother. She’d been more angry than sad anyway, but now she was beginning to feel all of the emotions she’d tried so, so hard to repress.

Sensing her suddenly involuntarily vulnerability, the woman – again, she didn’t know her name – offered her condolences and stepped out of the room to give them a few minutes alone. Blinking back the tears she felt stinging her eyes instead of allowing them to freely spill, she stepped toward what used to be a living, breathing body, and went for what had been collected with him.

Before she did, however, she noticed something… off. Strange. Familiar in the worst way.

“Does that smell like…”

Sulfur.

It smelled like sulfur.

She hadn’t been too involved in hunting demons specifically, but she’d know that smell anywhere. She knew the signs. That smell couldn’t have come from anything else in that way. It was too unnatural, too random yet too coincidental. The smell lingered and yet it seemed as though he’d been dead for years – at least, that was what his bones told her.

In addition to his wallet was a metal box, the latch not locked, and she dreaded looking inside even though she knew she had to. He had made a deal, she knew it. Everything added up too well and nothing else made sense. When she finally found the courage to open it, her suspicions were confirmed.

“That idiot,” she hissed through her teeth, slamming the lid shut and practically throwing it down on the table. She wanted to scream. She could’ve thrown the box across the room, shoved the skeleton to the floor, and left. In fact, that was all she wanted to do. She couldn't do that though, if not for her own sake, then for her family's. What was left of it, at least.

Her father had made a fucking demon deal after he left. Or maybe it was before. Maybe that was why the asshole had left in the first place. She wouldn't know. But she needed to figure it out. She needed to understand or it would eat her up alive. It would destroy her like nothing else ever had or ever could.

Kingston, England

12:01 PM

“Take care of him, okay? Remember to get him off the bus and make him dinner and pay attention to him.”

She felt like she was explaining it to a babysitter and not her own mother. Not his mother. Fuck. She didn’t even leave her hotel room to see them out. She kissed her mother and brother goodbye and watched through the window as their car disappeared out of her line of sight. She wasn’t going home just yet. There were things she needed to do.

Fish in a Birdcage: Rule #21 – Memento Mori · Daughter: Burn It Down · Fish in a Birdcage: Rule #36 – Long Way from Home