Pass It Along/4

As the tour continued the kids lost interest very quickly. Dylan and Divinity were soaking in the architecture, the history, fascinated by everything dull and adult about the building in to which they are moving. Ophelia tried her best to be as interested as her parents, and spent time observing every carving, painting, and stylised piece of furniture they came across. The dining hall was enough to distract their attention for an hour or more, with a painted Muriel around the perimeter of this unnecessarily spacious room. The Muriel depicted the anthology of residents that had previously lived here, each depicting a different tale. Presumably it was all painted by the hanndiman, or someone like him. Divinity made a note to ask Frank about it later.

Barrett had lost interested all together. By now he had slipped headphones into both ears, unnoticed, covered mostly by the t-shirt he war, and his hair long enough that a small bud could easily hide beneath it. He was listening to his usually mess of gangster rap and heavy mettle. His siblings thought him wierd, even insane, for finding enjoyment in such music. His mother always failed to understand his taste, but tried to anyway, as only a mother could. He figured the music would drown out the incessant, life-draining explanations and, if he could just pretend to look at stuff, no one would be any the wiser.

Aaron and Brittany, on the other hand, were becoming less and less interested the tour itself, and more interested in mystery of the invisible children. Could there really have been no one there? But who gave him the note? Could it be ghosts? Fairies? No, neither of them really exist. Vampires? Brittany trailed over thought after thought in her mind, until she was distracted by her brother.

"Hey Brittany," Aaron whispered when they came to a stop in the dining hall, "do you really think there was no one there?"

"I dunno." Brittany was as much amused by the whole thing as she was puzzled. It's not like mom and dad to lie about that sorta thing, but someone must've give you that note!"

"But how come no one else saw them, and why'd Mister Mollister seem so nervous all of a sudden?"

"I saw'd them." Amanda, who had clearly been listening in to their whispers, shocked them both to silence at her nonchalant intrusion. "Those big kids outside? I saw'd them like you did."

Aaron and Brittany both looked at each other curiously. The more they discovered about this bizarre place, the more they were excited to pursue their own investigation.

"Hey Mister Mollister." Brittany quietly got the man's attention to the back of the group.

"Please, call me Frank."

"You said this place was worse than a haunted castle right? What'd you mean? Are there any ghost stories?" Frank looked nervous once again. Brittany knew she had him, and she wasn't about to let him get away without finding out who those children really were.

"I shouldn't. It's best you just let it all out of your mind."

"Please sir." Aaron chipped in, as eager for information as his sister. "We promise we won't cause any trouble."

"Any trouble? Ha! That kinda trouble is more than my life is worth..."

"Mister!" Amanda's small voice chimed in once again, much to the frustration of the thirteen year old. Why can't she just butt out of it. "It's just a story. There wasn't really anyone there, we just likes making scary stuff up." She sounded so sweet, so innocent, in the way she spoke. She was the perfect menacing genius, hiding it all beneath her princess looks.

Frank thought for a while, before he figured he couldn't hold out against such an adorable face. In truth, who could?! "All right, you got to promise not to tell your folks. The story says not so long ago this forrest was home to a Pixie, who roamed 'round 'ere like he owned the place, when a new family moved in to this 'ere mansion. The Pixie was always curious about humans, so he took shape of a boy just as he always did, but never could tell much a' the difference between us and girls, so he still looked girly like in the face. The family had two boys who took a fancy to 'im, and convinced 'im to stay the night with them. That's when they did some nasty things to 'im..."

"What kinda nasty things?" Brittany and Aaron were deeply intrigued by this point.

"Must I spell it out for you? They raped 'im. The folks wouldn't believe 'im of course, not over their own flesh n blood. Says the Pixie was hurt, an' angry. I would be too mind you! He put a curse on this place, so the story says."

"What kinda curse?" Amanda chipped in again, mimicking her sister in the way she spoke. Brittany reeled at the thought that she was even still a part of this conversation, but supposed she couldn't exactly shake her now.

"The kind that drives a family mad is what kind. The youngest son, he was about eleven he was, started goin' mad, refusing to wear clothes, always kissin' the other kids he met, even doin' who knows what else with 'em. Boys and girls, mind! Says he even got one lass pregnant. But he always had a way of gettin' their permission first. Nicest cursed boy I ever heard of! The rest of 'em all started forgettin' things more and more, 'til a year later they left to a new home, one son less than they'd came with. Story says they didn't even remember they had a second son."

"But that's just stories though, right?" Brittany quizzed. There didn't seem to be nearly as much concern in her voice as there should have been. It seemed, like her brother, she was more curious by this mystery than they were before. "There's no such thing as a Pixie that would make us want to have sex?"

"Well that's what I thought when I started workin' here and was told them stories. But then the last family came, with a daughter. Only nine years old the poor thing! She started goin' mad like the boy did. Gymnaphobic when she arrived, but before long it was a struggle to get 'er to wear a stitch a clothin'. And then there was the games she wanted to play with other kids. They stayed two years 'fore the girl went missin'. The folks left forgettin' they even had a daughter. I was hopin' it was all just a trick of the imagination, but then you twos saw those kids in the garden."

"You saw them too?" Aaron asked, startled a little.

"Nope, an' I never will I don't doubt. But you hear me right kids, you best be fogettin' those stories and thinkin' nothing of 'em. Now, where were we..." Frank traield off as he prepared to lead the group prematurely from the artistic haven they were in. He left Britttany and Aaron wondering why he even told them the story in the first place if he didn't want them investigating it for themselves. Aaron looked slowly at his sister, who shared the same look he did.

"We're gonna investigate right, 8pm at the swimming pool?" He asked, more hopeful than he needed to be.

"Duh! What kind of Schultz's would wee be if we didn't?!"

There was one small detail they had forgotten as the glowing, irresistible eyes of a six year old looked up at them.

"Can I come?"

--Jackmaster (talk) 01:10, 19 August 2018 (CEST)

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