Lost and Found |•|•|•| Coco Fanfiction

Chapter 1

The sun was already starting to sink behind the mountain line surrounding the little town of Santa Cecilia, colouring the sky and the clouds in various shades of pink, orange and red. A slight wind had come up, cooling the faces of the musicians at the Plaza Mariachi, who had played there all day, including a young girl sitting atop a wall, a guitar in her lap. Alanna.

She smiled brightly, revealing a little gap in her teeth and a dimple on the left corner of her mouth as she thankfully turned her bronze coloured face into the crisp air blowing from the mountains. Alanna Rivera gently picked up her handmade guitar, running her fingers over the colourful details she decorated it with. They reminded her of the ornaments on the skeletal face of her beloved mamá. Imelda...

She gave the cords a strum. Letting out a happy sigh, the girl cleared her throat and started to sing. She had been working on new songs, still taking refuge in her hide-out, although her family now openly accepted music in the household, for work and inspiration. The song she was singing now had been one of the first ones she had written after arriving back in the living world.

It spoke of love through the ages, the importance of remembering and family. After the song had ended, Alanna put down the instrument and – seemingly out of impulse – extended a hand, only to blindly grasp air beside her. "Wasn't that good, Dante? What do you think, boy? Dante?", she asked, but only the wind answered her.

The girl winced a little and laid her head back. She thought of everything that had happened, how it had changed her whole life forever. After her and her brothers unexpected visit to the other side, something frightening and at the same time awe-inspiring had occurred. The young Rivera had discovered that she could see ghosts. Not only perceive their energy, but actually see their appearances and even talk to them if she wanted. At first, she had been scared out of her wits, but she had soon learned to enjoy it and be proud of her exceptional gift.

Although her new-found psychic abilities had given her the peace of mind that her and her brother had truly saved her papá Héctor, she still felt miserable at times. Sometimes, Alanna missed her dead family so much that she would lay curled up on her bed all day, just crying, refusing to do anything. She would miss Imelda, her fiery but good-hearted mamá, alongside her impressive alebrije Pepita, her sweet tía Rosita... and Dante. Her brave and loyal xolo friend had been forced to stay behind in the Land of the Dead, since he had officially become a spirit guide. Alanna was a strong believer in destiny, but still she sometimes wished everything had gone so very different...

Alanna felt tears trickling down her face. She decided that this was one of her more 'sensible' days. The girl wiped her wet eyes with her sleeve and jumped from the wall, securing her guitar on her back with a strap. "Mamá Imelda wouldn't want me to cry...", she told herself , like every time that she lost control over her emotions. It was starting to get increasingly dark and she wanted to get home before her parents chewed her out on being late. And not even speaking of her abuelita... Alanna decided to take one of her short-cuts she had frequently used to get from her house to the plaza in the past. She felt confident as she jogged through the rows of dark unused houses. She was already nearing the end of it, when...

"Got you, you little scum!", a rough voice behind her suddenly sneered and for a few seconds, she couldn't breathe as someone tore at the back of her shirt. "What's the meaning of this?! Let me go, let me go! H-", Alanna protested instinctively, but a strong hand clamped tightly around her mouth, reducing every sound to a muffled whimper. The girls heart sank like a stone and she lost all energy for a moment. She was being kidnapped! Her attacker put her in a lock-hold and slowly forced her to the floor. The little Rivera tried to wiggle out of the grip or kick out, do something, but the weight on her was too big. Alanna let out a strained sob, her eyes were rolling around like crazy in their sockets. She was terrified. "So, mocoso, and now sweet dreams!", her kidnapper chuckled menacingly. Mamá! Papá! HELP! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a big stone being lifted, aiming for her head. No, por Dios, no! PANG! Pain exploded, then her trembling body stilled as her world was plunged into darkness.

Meanwhile in the colourful Land of the Dead, things were happier for the deceased Rivera family than they had been in a long time. A very, very long time. Especially for Héctor Rivera. A hundred years of being shunned, made fun of and being close to dying for good were finally being rewarded. He had gotten to know his great-great-grandchildren – such bright, talented, wonderful children! -, the love of his life had forgiven him at last and most importantly, he was finally reunited with his beloved daughter. His – now not so little – Coco.

Héctor was lying with Imelda on their twin bed, his hands resting on her hips, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Imelda ran her bony fingers through his raven hair. Coco's father sighed happily. How much he had missed their touches and expressions of love! He in turn reached up to massage a spot above Imelda's left ear. She shuddered with joy. "Cariño, I... I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. I...", she started to apologize. Her husband didn't let her finish, but cut her off with a deep, passionate kiss on the lips. „No, my corazón. Nothing is your fault. I should have never trusted Ernesto in the first place. But let's not talk about it anymore, shall we? Let's focus only on...", he whispered consolingly.

All of a sudden, an overwhelming sense of dread hit Imelda  like a tidal wave. It felt as if a truck had hit her square in the chest. Imelda broke away from Hectór and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She was taking deep shaky breaths, her brown eyes wide, staring into space. The male skeleton worriedly put a hand on her shoulder, exclaiming: „Ay, mi amor! What happened?!" Before she could answer, they heard a low growl coming from outside. „Pepita...", Imelda whispered and the couple ran out to see what was going on. They were greeted with a sight that did nothing to calm down Imelda's sudden nerves.

The two alebrijes in the family were at the edge of their lawn, their bodies facing in the direction of the marigold bridge in the distance. Pepita had tensed all her muscles, her wings slightly flapping up and down as if she were getting ready to take flight. Her teeth were bared, her feline eyes small and glowing with aggression. Dante – their great-great-grandchildrens trusty, enthusiastic xolo – was whimpering, his bright multi-coloured skin turning into a darker shade than normal, his big eyes showed concern, but also anger.

Between them stood Coco, trembling. Suddenly, her cane fell to the floor and she would have fallen as well, had Héctor and Imelda not rushed to her side to catch her. „What in the name of Quetzalcoatl and all the gods is going on here?!", the Rivera matriarch called out to no one in particular, fear evident in her voice. Héctor winced internally. Speaking out the name of their creator had a very powerful effect and it was never to be used lightly. Then Coco muttered a single word that made Imelda's non-existent blood run cold: „Alanna."

The air in Mexico City felt cool and humid, which could only mean a thunderstorm was on its way. Nothing out of the ordinary on a day in September. A figure – judging from its silhouette, it was female – dragged a last time on a cigarette before she reached the bottom. She put the glimmering butt out on the wet grass beside her, then slowly let the smoke escape through her mouth and nostrils. With a thoughtful look, she watched how it slowly mixed with the grey clouds above her. The woman pulled the hood of her black jacket deeper into her face and opened a liquor bottle. After taking a long swig of tequila, she leaned her body against the headstone of the grave she was sitting on.

She traced the letters of the name engraved on the stone. A few minutes of silence passed before she lightly began to tap on the tombstone and started to talk to nobody in particular: "You won't believe me, I had the strangest dream tonight... It was more like flashes to be honest. There was a bird's eye view of the Mexican State Prison, a red van... I heard music and bangs and weeping. The most horrible parts were the feels though. There was this dark, evil presence, it was horrible. And- " Her voice began to shake and she quickly downed a bit more of liquor to make it go away. "And this fear. So much fear, despair and loneliness! Don't ask me how, but I have a feeling that something nasty is about to happen."

The visitor then huffed and stood up with a small smile. "Anyways, I've just come to tell you. I've got to go now. See you next time..." She kissed her fingertips and touched the gravestone with them, a last sentimental goodbye. After putting the bottle into her bag and taking out her car keys, she strolled towards the entrance of the cemetery. Laughing, the woman flung the keys into the air, spun about herself and caught them a second before they hit the ground. She climbed into her car – a red pickup truck – and turned the engine on, murmuring one more time "There's definitely something about to happen..." before she turned the vehicle around and drove away. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.