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The old, warped wood of the small tumble-down shack was covered in wailing faces. Previously blameless knots and striations in the timber had twisted and bent to form a vista of semi-human visages, all howling in other-worldly torment. Euclid Daganfort gritted his teeth and re-adjusted the thick protective earmuffs that sat over his scarred and dented hard hat, the sanity-scouring screams from the shed diminishing to the high-pitched buzzing whine of tinnitus.

The small portable stove at his feet burned white hot, the pot of varnish balanced on top of it topped with a white plume of steam smelling strongly of boiled linseed. The elderly groundskeeper picked up a long-handled paint roller and, with some effort, plunged it beneath the glutinous surface that roiled slowly within the cauldron’s dark interior. He twisted the smooth wooden handle once, twice, three times, before pulling the brush free with a soft grunt of exertion.

Careful to avoid the falling droplets that hissed and sputtered on contact with the wet ground, he rolled the dripping head across the infected timber, painting the screaming faces in a heavy layer of viscous black-brown varnish. Where the brush passed, the faces slowed their tormented writhing, the starting eyes and spasming mouths grinding to a gradual halt as the glossy lacquer fixed them in place. Euclid worked quickly, coating the entire south wall and emptying the heavy black cauldron of inter-dimensional wood sealant.

In the light afternoon breeze, the heavy finish soon cooled, becoming tacky to the touch. Daganfort stepped back, examining his work with a critical third eye. Producing a thin horse-hair paintbrush from one of the many pockets in his faded greatcoat, he painted a quick series of protective wards over the shed wall with the last traces of the wood seal.

“And that,” he said, turning to the nosy middle school student he’d been stuck with as part of Eerie’s summer volunteer programme, “Is how you protect a wooden structure against wind, rain, and the collapsing nature of reality.”

“Wow,” said Marshall Teller, peering into the empty metal pot. “Just by adding a few drops of maple syrup?”

“Dark maple syrup,” Daganfort corrected. “A Grade. And mind it’s the real thing; your usual breakfast table maple-flavoured sugar substitute won’t cut it. That’s how you get Canadian alter-egos popping up all over the darn multiverse.”

Marshall stared.

“That explains so much,” he murmured.

Mister Daganfort did not reply.





Trusted Associates, Inc.

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Lady in Red by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Simon experiments on the old-fashioned radio in the Secret Spot, and horror ensues

Waiting In by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive

Seafoam by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the seaside

A Night at the Circus by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which a carnivale comes to town, and Marshall and Simon do not enjoy themselves

Taking a Break by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Simon and Marshall enjoy some much-needed R&R

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Waterlogged by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Eerie experiences heavy rainfall

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Strawberry by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which there is unauthorised hubbub in Eerie

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Castle by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which there is unexpected architecture in Eerie

Visitor in which Marshall's grandma comes to stay

Euclid by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Marshall and Simon investigate strange events at the Eerie Cemetery

The Hut by [livejournal.com profile] froodle, in which Simon takes on the forces of Eerie solo

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