Lucy's Day Off (A Lockwood and Co. Fanfiction)

Chapter 9

  Lucy's pov

  As an agent, there are a few questions you can ask yourself to determine the strength of the ghost (or ghosts) that you are facing. If the ghost you're facing makes you feel awful, then that is a pretty good indicator of its power. As a Listener, if you can hear the ghost whispering things, then that means it's not your typical gray haze. If the ghost you're facing is also attacking you, that's a pretty good indicator that its a Type Two and you should probably get out of its way and then eradicate it.

  Of course, I already knew that Regina Jones' ghost was a powerful one by the way she made me feel before she was set free of her iron chains to attack me. My head pounded, my knees felt weak, my limbs felt entombed in mud, and worst of all I felt like I had barely any will to live. But, as an agent, I have some advantage. I know how to use a rapier and I have been taught to keep a cool head in a dangerous situation. Does a ghost attacking you with deathly tentacles of ectoplasm count as a dangerous situation? Yes. Yes, I believe it does.

  While Jacobs and my aunt Maggie were safe from supernatural influence in their weird alien-bug suits made of iron, I had to face Regina Jones as part of their twisted experiment. Best vacation ever! Take note of the sarcasm right there.

  Regina Jones flew at me seemingly out of nowhere, with her arms reaching for me, with her hands tensed up to look like claws, with her eyes hardened with malice. Just your typical Type Two eight year old turned into a ghost. I dodged her attack, but while I did so I swiftly sliced my rapier through her arm. The vengeful ghost screamed, and her eyes seemed to burn with the cold desire to ghost touch me.

  While she was preoccupied, I ran to the other end of the underground bunker where there was a solid iron door which looked like it was the sole exit of this hellhole. Regina Jones was close behind me though, and with a gust of wind she sent me flying into the door. Stars faded in and out of my vision, but I had enough sense to roll out of the way as the ghost swooped in and touched the spot where I just was. Head spinning, I got up and rested against the wall for a second. A few drops of water splashed on my head as I did so.

  Instead of attacking me again, Regina Jones just stood there in front of the door, wincing. I also noticed that water leaked down from the ceiling onto her as well. Of course! Ghosts are weak to running water, and this old bunker that's falling apart just happens to be under a stream. I guess the Orphaeus Society built it that way so that the ghosts' power would make them weak so they could study them.

  While Regina was stuck under the water stream, I charged forward with my rapier and performed one of the complicated ward knots that Lockwood had taught me. With her backed into the corner, I turned my attention towards the door. Instead of having a simple door handle, it had a great rusted wheel to turn instead. I grabbed onto it and began to desperately turn the creaky wheel, at least until I heard a click behind me.

  "Don't move Lucy. I have a gun pointed at your back. Just step away from the door and fight the ghost," Jacobs threatened. I debated doing so, but the door was do close to opening that I was tempted to turn it one last time and make a run for it. Before I could act, I felt something sharp and overwhelmingly cold latch onto my arm. I turned, horrified, and I was met with the evil eyes of the ghost I was trying to escape. I screamed, and desperately flailed my rapier arm to send her reeling away, where she dissipated. I clutched my arm and tried to will away the tears that threatened to spill and slumped down with my back to the door.

  "Ha, it turns out poor Lucy is no match for the ghost of a poor little girl. Now Lucy, do you want me to shoot you to end the pain or do you just want to suffer through it until you die?" Agent Jacobs laughed.

  "Neither. Because I know something you don't," I said, and started to stand up.

  "Ooh, please enlighten me. I mean, I'm not really going anywhere until you die," he taunted.

  "Well, the ghost only touched me in the arm, where there are no vital organs. Yes, it hurts, but I can probably last another hour until I need medical attention," I said, remembering how Lockwood had lasted an hour before getting a shot in the Annie Ward case.

  "So? It's not like I'm much of a busy man anyways, an hour is nothing to me," he smirked.

  "That's not what I'm getting at. You see, this bunker is pretty old and it's also built under a creek. There are a few loose rocks and roots coming out of the ceiling. I wonder what would happen if I pull this big root that's sticking out right above my head?" I grinned.

  Agent Jacobs and Maggie, who had already taken their headgear off, visibly paled.

  "See you later. That is, if you can survive a whole roaring stream crash onto your head," I said. I grabbed onto the root and pulled with all of my might, and a huge stream of water started pooling at my feet. Other rocks started to come loose, and water quickly started to flood the area. I turned around and quickly turned the wheel on the door one last time. Before I could get through the door, however, Jacobs shot his gun. The bullet missed me by only about an inch, but it, the water, and the rocks crashing down just cemented the fact that I needed to leave. I grabbed the thick, iron door and raced up the old rusted ladder.

  About halfway up, I felt the ladder shake and heard a rumble that could only mean one thing; the ceiling had finally given way. I heard Jacobs' scream and my aunt Maggie's yell before it was abruptly silenced by the water. Speaking of which, looking down, the water was steadily rising up, threatening to catch me. Just as I was at the top where I opened the trap door, I even felt it soak my boots and my leggings. Once through the trap door, I noticed that the entrance was disguised as a stump. Thinking back, it must of been the very trap door that Jacobs had sat on when he was letting my friends and I do all of the dirty work when we were in Wytheburn Mill. The exit that I had just climbed out of was right next to the stream, where I could see the total devastation that I had caused.

  The stream was now a strange sight to behold. There was now a deep hole in it that the water poured in to. In the new little pond, all kinds of papers were swirling around inside. There were also two bodies floating in it.

  I tried to close my eyes to forget the death I had caused, but the image of my aunt, floating face-down in the water is something that I will never forget. I turned, and started to run down the hill, ignoring the pain in my arm and trying to ignore the tears that ran freely down my face.

A/N: Hello again, it's Eepster. I had almost lost inspiration to continue writing this story, but you guys giving me feedback on the story really helped me want to continue it. Thank you for all of your support. I can't believe that this story has nearly 3,000 views! Just to give you a comparison, I have probably only shown a story I have written to, at most, 5 people. So, as always, let me know what you think. Oh, and, Happy 2016 everyone!

Love,

Eepster