Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Incendiary
Oct. 1st, 2017 12:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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It was a grey, wet day, the kind of day where grass squelched messily underfoot and the damp earth roiled as mud-sharks swam lazy circles close to the surface. Marshall Teller set the phone back in it's cradle, his fingers brushing the cracked and faded plastic as he did so. His face was pale, and his mouth was set in a thin and determined line.
"We have a problem," he said.
Dash and Simon looked up at him. Dash's long coat was in his lap and he was trying, with limited success, to re-attach some buttons that come loose during a fight with a huge, avaricious, and unfairly intelligent magpie earlier that week. Simon sat at a folding table, the disassembled pieces of a home-made flamethrower laid out before him in meticulously ordered rows.
"Okay," said Dash, after the dramatic pause had stopped being dramatic and become merely irritating. "What?"
"Remember Miss Holahan?" said Marshall, ignoring Dash's rudeness in the face of perfectly acceptable theatrical norms.
Simon nodded.
"She moved in up the street last summer," he said. "She brought home-made marshmallows to the Winter Festival and killed a frost spider with a mug of warded hot chocolate when it tried to cut in line and eat a bunch of people."
"That's her," said Marshall. "The Ladies Society for the Beautification of Eerie recruited her pretty soon after that. I was supposed to go over today and pick up a bunch of those candy bracelets they give little kids at Halloween to stop night-gaunts sucking their souls out while they trick or treat-"
He stopped, suddenly awkward. The two older boys looked at Simon, who continued scouring a length of metal tubing with a handful of wire wool, seemingly unconcerned.
"I told you," he said. "Yes, the night-gaunt did try to devour Harley's spirit essence one year while we were busy chasing down an Egg Demon that turned out to just be Mo Bob, Lou Bob and Bob Bob. Yes, it was scary and upsetting at the time, and I said things in the heat of the moment that might be considered unreasonable under normal circumstances-"
"You said you would travel to the nightmare realm, find their nests and kick their night-spawn to death in front of them if they didn't back off," Dash reminded him.
"And you said really unkind things about their physical manifestations in our world," said Marshall.
Simon looked a little embarrassed.
"And we can all agree that I shouldn't have made it about their looks," he said.
"Or their kids' looks," said Dash.
"I definitely should not have said what I did about their kids," Simon agreed. "But as the night-gaunts took one breath of Harley's soul, screamed, and dissolved into a black sludge that stains the sidewalks of Front Street to this very day, it's not like a few uncalled-for comments about their probable School Picture Day experience made much difference."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, Miss Holahan?"
"Oh yeah," said Marshall, tearing his thoughts away from the image of Simon, diminutive and oddly triangular in a three-coloured Candy Corn costume, screaming death threats at a blackened, rubbery nightmare beast while Harley smiled serenely from behind a cheap plastic witch's mask, his teeth white beneath the green and warty surface of his disguise.
He shook his head in a vain hope of dislodging the memory.
"Yeah," he said again. "Miss Holahan. I called her just now see if it was a good time to swing by, and she told me," - here his voice dropped dramatically, and Dash rolled his eyes and accidently jabbed himself with the sewing needle - "She said she couldn't talk because she has a little person running around her living room right now."
There was a moment of silence.
"Uh..." said Simon.
"Come on, guys!" sad Marshall. "A little person? Obviously the leprechauns have gotten to her! We gotta go save her."
Dash wiped his bloody finger on a heavily-embroidered throw pillow. The hand-stitched pattern glowed for a moment as it absorbed the gory smear, then went back to acting like a perfectly normal sofa cushion. Waste not, want not.
"You know I'm always happy to get a hammer and go beat those little green bastards to death," he said. "And Simon just loves an excuse to set things on fire, which is probably something we'll need to address at some point," - here Simon flushed and tried to hide the charred black nozzle he'd been cleaning in his lap - "But, and I can't believe I'm having to say this, I think you may have gotten the wrong end of the shillelagh here."
Simon nodded.
"She has a three year old, Mars," he said. "I think she was just talking about a toddler."
"Oh," said Marshall. He leaned back in his chair, his expression downcast.
"I know," said Dash, his expression almost sympathetic. "It's okay. Simon and me wanted to go kill some leprechauns too."
"I did not!" said Simon, hotly. One of the propane cylinders rolled off the table and clattered to the floor.
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Date: 2017-10-01 01:39 pm (UTC)OMG MARS
omg this is wonderful
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Date: 2017-10-02 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 10:38 pm (UTC)Alas, poor Mars when faced with the merely mundane
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Date: 2017-10-03 05:11 pm (UTC)Honestly tho, given how Marshall struggled with Harley i think Miss Holahan's kid would cause him more problems than an entire nest of leprechauns.