PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

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xxiii

nice pyjamas but what happened to the lack of shirt

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"THIS'LL KILL US."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lockwood mused as he and Alice entered the kitchen. He held the Satchell's bag as Onyx jumped into Alice's arms. "Wow. Is this all on Combe Carey Hall?"

"Yeah, everything that Fairfax forgot to mention," George hissed, "It's not just a country house; it used to be a satanic priory for medival devil worshippers."

"Oh, good. Evil monks," Lockwood quipped, grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

Alice jumped, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs slightly. Onyx sat in her lap, purring as she ran her fingers through her fur. "At least we'll know what we'll be facing."

Lockwood looked up at her, "You fancy a beer?"

Before Alice could reply (ie refuse) George stood up, "No, actually," he exclaimed, "We have no idea what we're facing! It's killed loads, including some at a party 30 years ago, but those deaths weren't blamed on the monks - no, they were blamed on a Screaming Staircase or a Red Room, whatever they are."

"Don't forget the five women who were tortured to death during the Rennaissance witch trials," Alice added.

"Oh my god!" George hissed.

Alice pursed her lips, considering this for a moment. Combe Carey Hall was almost entirely a witch-based haunting. With the monks being a coven and witches being murdered there too; she could probably have better luck fixing the entire house by herself then going with the entire agency where she'd be forced to use no magic.

But George had a right to be frightened.

It was strange, in a way, that none of them knew anything of these types of hauntings, of the Problem in and of itself. It had to be a terrifying existence.

"Without flares this job is suicide," Lucy spoke up, she showed Lockwood a picture, "Look, we're not the first ones to try too."

George picked up the picture, showing it to them, "At the start of the Problem, an elite Fittes team was sent in. There was only one survivor! And one - Samaran Pandey - is still unnacounted for."

"Fairfax kept all of this from us," Lucy declared.

"No, he got himself a good deal," Lockwood disagreed, "And so did we. This is a job that's finally big enough for our talents. But... we're a team, so if either of you two have any other options to keep this agency afloat then I'm all ears."

George and Lucy exchanged a look and stayed silent. George sat down.

Lockwood turned to Alice. "Ally?"

Alice simply shrugged, "If you guys really don't want to go, then we don't have to - but if you do, then I'll come with."

Lockwood grinned.

...

"Alice!"

Alice opened her door, in nothing but a black, fluffy towel, to find Lucy standing in the hall with the phone. "It's for you," the auburn haired girl declared.

Alice nodded, taking it, "Thanks. Do you mind waiting here, I don't think I'll be long?"

"Don't worry, girlie," Lucy quipped.

Alice turned, quickly turning and making her way back into the room. She looked at the phone and furrowed her brows, the call had been going for 10 minutes already.

"Hello?"

"Miss Deane? Inspector Barnes," he said, "Have you told Lockwood that you're leaving yet?"

Alice blinked. "Oh, um, yeah. Wasn't a particularily happy conversation."

"Hmm, have you signed that application form?" Barnes inquired.

"Yes, I have," Alice lied, "I'll drop it in when I leave."

"Maybe leave sooner," Barnes advised, "I thought you should know - Hugo Blake was released this morning. There's nothing that puts him inside the house. Maybe if you hadn't burned it down, then we'd have some evidence." Barnes sighed, "Miss Carlyle has informed me that your house is getting fumigated tomorrow - but we'll be in the day after to breif Lockwood on his new supervisor."

"Ah, yes," Alice mused.

"Get out safe, Miss Deane," Barnes warned, and then the call ended.

Alice quickly came down the stairs again, adjusting her towel and opened the door, "That was eventful," she mused. "Fumigation?"

Lucy laughed, "It was all I could think of in the moment."

In that moment, they heard Lockwood yell, "Lucy! I need the phone!"

"We're up here!" Lucy shouted back.

There was a sudden running and pattering of footsteps and Lockwood emerged from the staircase onto the landing in his pyjamas.

Alice was instantly reminded of when she'd woken him up and briefly seen him shirtless.

Pity he wore a shirt this time. 

Lockwood shifted, blinking as he took in the sight of Alice in nothing but a towel, "Uh, who was that?" he inquired.

"Just Barnes," Alice replied.

Lockwood was having trouble taking his eyes off of her, not just because of her bare legs, but because of the scars.

Their conversation in the cafe that day had opened him up to a different side of Alice - the side she didn't show anyone. The terrified, injured girl who'd been through so much that a child shouldn't go through. The girl with the hollow eyes, just like his. 

But Lockwood had never seen her arms before, and now he realised why.

There were deep scars on her forearms, like chains or ropes had been bound so tight they had burned her. But there were also deep cuts and pinprick like scars around her wrists and the inside of her elbow, like failed injections.

And on her chest, he could see - on the left side, the heart side, peeking out of the towel, a deep scar that made his stomach churn. It was as if her own skin had been peeled off there, like someone had taken a knife to her and carved off her flesh.

Lockwood blinked, forcing himself to look away. He was gritting his teeth furiously now, wanting to demand who hurt her, but the way she shifted uncomfortably reminded him that wasn't what she needed right now and would only make matters worse.

Alice handed him the phone, and when she did, he saw scars on her palms. Little ones and also longer ones that spanned the entire hand. He wondered how he'd never noticed them before.

She shifted uncomfortably, frowning as she realised the way Lockwood was looking at her. "If that's all I'm gonna get some rest before we all die tomorrow." She paused, realising what she had just said and the fact that the rest of them thought that Combe Carey Hall would actually kill them. Alice looked up at Lockwood again, "Sorry." She teetered on the balls of her feet for a moment, "Uh, nice pyjamas."

Lockwood looked down at her, chuckling. But his eyes darkened as he realised that her wet hair was bound at a claw clip at the back of her head, revealing small scars at her hairline like she'd dug her own nails into it.

What the fuck?

Lockwood smiled, "Nice towel."

Alice blushed and turned around, quickly disappearing into her room and shutting the door. But not before he could see even more scars peeking out from her shoulders, lacerations on her back.

Like lashes.

What the hell had happened to her?

Lucy turned to Lockwood and hit him on the arm, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"'Nice towel'?!"