Secret Fears - Lockwood & Co

Thoughts in a haunted house

I felt horrible. I had said things I didn't really mean, and I couldn't take them back. Silently I walked through the corridors of Warren's house, rapier swinging by my side as I searched for any remnants of the paranormal. A scream echoed through the house once again, shrill and tortured, but it was not one of us. It was otherworldly. My throat constricted at the bloodcurdling shriek, but I kept walking. It was getting colder; abnormally cold.

We had scoured the back of the house for an hour or two before coming back inside. There was obviously nothing there. Warren said there was, but I don't think he knew what was really going on. . . or he was trying to trick us. I don't think he would want to do that though, his temperament the other day showed that. My boots clacked on the floor, as the parquet flooring groaned and creaked under my feet. Suddenly, I heard something that made me stop in my tracks. I kept my rapier raised, and my hand crept to my supply of iron filings and lavender in my belt. *Crunch crunch*. . . *Crunch crunch*. . . creeeaaaaak . . .

George. That maniac was eating again. He seemed to believe salty foods would repel visitors, but I think that's just his excuse to bring salt and vinegar chips along to our missions. I wipe my hair back with my hand and stop again. A malaise creeps up my spine and I look in front of me. A wooden door, painted blue, stood there at the end of the hall. The room seemed to be right next to the laundry. . . I have a feeling, that whatever is on the other side of the door, will not greet me with smiles and hugs, and if it does, the hug won't be gratefully received.

A swish of a cape, a reflection of silver and a tall, slim figure stands behind me. I turn to face her and she scowls. "Lockwood."

"Lucy," I reply, nodding to the door. "Shall we?"

"Let's kick some ghost arse."