The True Story of Emily Lockwood / g. karim

𝟚𝟜. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕦𝕖

~ / Episode Eight - Part One \ ~

"the chain"

❀

--The news of George's whereabouts - courtesy of the skull, apparently - sent Emily into a flurry of activity. She leaped off her bed hastily through on her work clothes, all black, as always, and raided the girls' room for kit. 

Since the Annie Ward incident when Lucy first moved in, Emily had stowed various small bits of ghost-fighting essentials in their rooms. Salt bombs in her sock drawer, chains under the bed - craftily hidden. 

She stuffed it all into a large backpack, and ran down the stairs. Lucy and her brother were in the basement, gathering what remained of their kit. Emily knew, though, that after DEPRAC confiscated majority of their kit back at Combe Carey Hall, they barely had any to tackle the weakest of Type Ones. 

So, essentially, they would be doomed if they ran into any ghosts that night. 

And, given the fact that they were walking voluntarily into a very haunted cemetery in pursuit of their friend, Emily had a feeling their night was just getting started. 

They'd crashed a ball, infiltrated a Black Market scheme, narrowly avoided death twice, and now they were going to find George. 

With that in mind, Emily headed into the kitchen, her boots thumping on the wooden floors of the old home. Lucy and Anthony were already at the front door, getting ready to head out. 

"Anything?" she asked, stowing her prized knives wherever she could on her person, inconspicuously. They both looked up at her, her brother while throwing on his jacket. 

"We read Mary Dulac's book," Lucy began, grabbing her sword. "Turns out, she killed Bickerstaff. And guess whose been behind it all?" Emily grit her teeth. She'd known from the start something was wrong with that woman. 

"The lovely Pamela Joplin," she deadpanned, pulling on her brown trench coat. Lucy nodded. 

"We're going to do this. All of us." Anthony spoke, adjusting his collar. "For George." 

"For George." The girls replied grimly. 

Emily did not fail to notice how they looked at one another, very different from how it was earlier that day. Everything had changed in a matter of hours - between them, herself and George, as well. 

Like the whole world had upended, the Universe planning one eventful night to pull everything together. 

Or apart. 

❀

--This was the third time they'd taken a cab tonight, and Emily had just about had enough. She pressed an extra twenty pounds into the driver's hand. 

"To Kensal Green. It's urgent, if you please." He flashed her a toothy smile, tipping his cap to her. 

"Sure, miss." And then, with a lurch, they were zooming towards the cemetery.