𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟
☼
❘ ❙ ❚ . .in which a spirit
doomed to roanoke
feeds off of the fear of
others
or
all who attempt to heal
her heart s...
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❝ 𝐠𝐨𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞. ❞
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔
❛ i'm the kind of guy who never used to cry ❜
𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟺
𝑆𝑂𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐺𝐸 𝐻𝐴𝐷 𝑊𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑈𝑃 much earlier than she normally does, but all this was was an opportunity to perfect her home. Solange had been dedicated, focused on the staircase railing. It was always one part of the house that she never seemed to be able to get perfect.
She didn't want to wake the Miller's, especially since she wasn't always fond of actually speaking with them, but it seemed fate had other plans. Matt had come from downstairs to find Solange, whom he hoped to get a favour from. "Good morning, Solange."
"Is it?" Solange was sitting on the ground, focused on her work. She was screwing in the posts on the railing so that they were secure, but of course, Matt was once again shocked by her snark when he should have expected it by now.
"Charming, as always." Solange did look up to glare at Matt, that glance sending a chill down his spin, so he hoped to distract and continue on, "I, um...I was wondering if I could get your help with something? And I need you to not tell Shelby."
"What do you need help with?" Solange asked as she got to her feet, most likely going to help Matt, so she wouldn't be continuing her work, but she was curious to know if this was in regards to the pig or something else.
"It's better if I show you." That told Solange that he was the one who found the dead pig she had the Scourge leave on his front porch. Solange followed the man downstairs and outside. She found her glorious work of fear-mongering laid before her, having to express a feeling of disgust and slight concern.
Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest as Solange walked around the pig with her hands on her hips. The door closed behind them as Solange let out a breath. "Yeah, I think I'll help you out."
"What do we do?"
Solange looked around a moment, seeing if there was a good solution out in the open, but there was only one she could think of. "Bury it, I guess. The Polk's probably put this here, so it might have razor blades, or poison, or just pure dirt in it. Grab the back legs."
