Agnes Berkshire was born with life handed to her in a silver platter, yet she still chose to run away.
Winding up in the city of London, working at an agency run by two boys with no adult supervision; in which she absolutely despises the owner.
1...
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"YOU REALIZE YOU SLEPT FOR fourteen hours?" George asked Lucy, they were all reunited in the table, now deciding to talk about Lucy's sudden accident in the basement when she went to put away her fourth grade certificate. "did I? I don't actually remember going to bed." Lucy asked and Lockwood handed both girls their tea.
Agnes chewed on a piece of (almost) burnt toast Lockwood had made for her, deciding to put away her boiling anger aside—for now. "do you remember me and George carrying you? we found you unconscious in the basement." Lockwood sat between George and Agnes, causing both companions look at him.
"what?" Lucy had her mouth hanged open. "you don't remember anything?" George furrowed his brows. "no, I definitely remember putting the papers away, but that was it."
"and none of you are getting any hallucinations or weird voices?" George pointed to both girls. "when did I get dragged into this?" Agnes inquired.
"well, you say you're having nightmares and sometimes you randomly get scared or hostile throughout the day and you whisper to yourself a lot." fuck. I knew he'd be the one to catch up.
"no, I'm not schizophrenic, George. I'm fine it's just a little stress!" Agnes sighed, not wanting to elaborate any further. "what about you?" George stared at Lucy, who shook her head. "no. no, like I said, I feel... normal." Lucy frowned.
"can I talk to you, later, Agnes?" Lockwood bit his nails, staring at the blonde who nodded subtly in slight confusion.
the door bell rang. "well, we don't have any appointments. it's probably mad old Mrs.Wick again." both boys stood up, "you're just not rude enough to her, George. watch how it's done." the door knocked again. there was a faint ring at the end of both Lucy's and Agnes's ears, faint cackling voices made the way to their ears and Agnes could see glimpses of shadows that belonged to no one in that kitchen. Lucy sighed deeply, and tough it seemed silent Agnes heard it from across the kitchen; and Lucy heard Agnes's slow breaths and increasing heart beats to the laughter.
"come on, we've got a proper client!" Lockwood showed up in the kitchen, his face in a grin before it turned onto a smile. both girls smiled at each other, but their eyes showed confusion which was enough for them to figure between themselves that they were hearing the same things.
"I'm Sebastian Saunders, and this is my partner, Pamela Joplin." the older man introduced. the company sat in the couches of the library, George and Luce to a bigger couch, Agnes and Lockwood in the armchairs side to side.
"business partner." Joplin noted. "we're Sweet Dreams Excavations. maybe you've heard of us?" the woman asked. "cute name." Agnes commented with a hint of sarcasm that was left without an answer for the sake of business. "you're gravediggers?" Lockwood put his right leg above his left one, redirecting the conversation. "we prefer excavation and clearance." Saunders handed his business card to Lockwood. "I'm sure you'll have seen the headlines, Mr.Lockwood." Saunders sat down. Lockwood sighed in annoyance, this was not their typical type of job; that was for sure.
Agnes took the card from his hands, reading it in furrowed brows. "after all the avoidable deaths, DEPRAC now require councils to assess their cemeteries for risky plots. we're currently engaged in a major operation in Kensal Green Cemetery." Agnes passed the card to Lockwood who passed it to Lucy, then Lucy passed it to George.
"but... that's huge!" George commented. "thank you. Pam usually susses out the dodgy ones long before they present any serious danger. we dig for bones. she digs for stories." Agnes sighed, slumped in the armchair. she chewed on her dark red nails trying to keep herself focused. "I use burial records to look for traumatic causes of death likely to tip the odds for visitation. suicides, murders, sudden tragedy. you never know when a spirit might activate." George seemed to be the only one interested in what Saunders and Joplin explained. "you're a researcher?" the boy smiled. "did you know Fittes has it's own database now?" Agnes rolled her eyes, the conversation was dragging on for too long now.
"it's not very good. broad in scope, but there's no depth. give me a stack of book any day." Lockwood stared at a unbothered Agnes. "I couldn't agree more!" George exclaimed with a smile to have someone who understood him.
"Mr. Saunders, Ms. Joplin, thank you very much for taking the trouble. but, we're mansion specialists. we don't do odd jobs for the council." Anthony declined. "are you sure? we heard you'd be grateful. oh, sorry. uh...amenable to this work." Saunders re-worded. "well, you heard wrong. our listeners, for example are one of the best of the country, and—" Lockwood was cut off by Agnes. "Lockwood, we're fine. that's all, we're good. we're just a good, normal agency...who needs a job." Agnes glanced at him, they needed a job immediately. Joplin intently stared at both listeners, feeling a strong sense in her gut.
Lockwood had a fake smile, embarrassed to be cut off in front of potential clients. he knew it made his companions a bit mad but he loved to ramble about how good Agnes and Lucy were when praising his agency. "Kensal Green is London's most prestigious cemetery, owned and run by the Bickerstaff family—" Joplin clicked her tongue.
"until one of the sons was caught diggin' up corpses." Saunders chuckled, "the scandal that brought the word necrophilia into common usage!" the man commented with a contagious tone. "yes, but before then, the clientele was very high-end." Joplin made sure to note.
"and the grave in question is in the older section? the...classy one?" Lockwood straightened his posture, a sign that he was beginning to have interest. Agnes raised her brows in embarrassment at Lockwood's wording. "the classy one?" Lucy inquired with a grimace. "yes, pre-pleb?" Anthony had his eyes stuck on Joplin and Saunders.
"where the bodies were dug up by the pervert?" George questioned, they were really having this conversation. "well, a visitor with historical significance would be more attractive to us." Lockwood added. Agnes sighed in boredom, counting the stripes in her black and red stripped socks. eight black stripes. "it is within the original curtilage, yes, but I can't give you a name. a hidden, unmarked grave that's not on any oficial list. one of our sensitives found it, triggered by an extreme nausea which eventually made her pass out. whatever's inside there, it's powerful." Joplin concluded, eyes lingering on George.
"we've a legal obligation to bring in agents for any grave which might contain a type two. DEPRAC cover the expense, so the work must be done at night so our claims can be verified. bureaucratic bs but, uh...makes things interesting. you'll be well-supported. we've got night watch, sensitives, security to keep out the relic men. the cemetery really comes alive at night!" Saunders informed with a small chuckle. Agnes stared at Lockwood, she bit her bottom lip wondering what his decision might be.
"so...you're telling me—you think there is an unidentified type two in a unmarked grave, and you want us to come and help you dig it up...at night?" Lockwood abbreviated with furrowed brows, it was an extremely stupid, dangerous job. and for a split second Agnes could see herself in that cemetery, in a cemetery. a place she could barely be in as it brought her stupid memories of nights her parents made her spend in whenever she failed her personal training, when she was barely seven. Agnes brought her lips into a thin line, frowning at the thought of having to spend the night in one again; knowing she'd have the strange sense of deja-vu hit her in the stomach. "put it like that, Mr.Lockwood, I admit it could sound better." Joplin smiled desperately.
