Audibility- A Miss Peregrines Fanfiction #1

Island Invasion Part II

These children are very strange. The middle girl is very rebellious, the way she dumps her bottle of water. Then the boy is like, you guys are oddly hilarious. The girl in white is, uh. I don't know what she's doing. What is the girl in the middle standing on?

For kids who had never really fought such dangerous people, we were surprisingly good at defending ourselves. Not that we really encountered any for a while. I guess that dimwit was the only one they entrusted to stay upstairs.

But even if we were really good at defense, it was clear it was impractical for the little girls to fight. I was scared for their safety, and I knew Millard was too.

After running past the unconscious wight, we came to another door. It was the door to a closet. I opened it.

"You guys can stay here." I said, meaning Charlotte, Marcie, Olive, and Claire. "In you go." They obediently went inside. The wallpaper here was a faded brown, and they pressed their backs to it, as if to find security. They looked sad.

"We want to help defend our home from wights, and you can't force us to stay in here!" Olive said.

"If I lock you in you'll stay in there." Millard said pointedly. I grabbed his arm.

"A locked door will draw more attention than a closed door." I said. I could tell he was debating what to do.

"Please, Millard. We really can help, we'll be useful, I promise." Claire said. "I am small but ferocious." She said, using a line Bronwyn tenderly used to describe her. But Millard didn't seem to be waning. He stood, arms crossed, seen through his jacket. The other three all looked at Charlotte, who in turn, looked at Millard.

Charlotte's eyes grew misty and gray. They seemed to stare deep. "Millard Peter Nullings, you must let us come with you, and you may not lock us in a closet." She said, in a haunting voice.

"Da, da, da, da. Run, rabbit run. I can't hear your siren speak!" Millard said, sounding like an idiot. Charlotte paused for a minute. Horace ran past us in the hall, but Millard grabbed on to his shirt collar and he slowed to a stop. "Watch, the girls, will you, mate? Do us a favor." Horace nodded, walking in.

"If anybody tries to open this door, scream like you're dying, someone else will come running." Millard said, deftly swiping a key hanging on a nail next to the door, because what's the point of locking anything when you live in the middle of a time loop in the middle of the woods? He locked it, and took the key with him.

"We're going to the basement." Millard said.

We crept slowly to the top of the stairs. There weren't any wights patrolling the area around the front door, so that was a good sign. Maybe everyone had gone outside. Or was at the other end of the house, but I was much more comfortable with the latter.

Then, we had just gotten past the staircase, and headed to the back of the house, where the door to the basement was, when we walked right into the dining room, a wight standing in there. But he was facing the windows. Millard went to the smaller door where the kitchen was, and came out a few seconds later with a frying pan.

With a thwack, the pan came down on the wight's head. He collapsed on the table.

The basement door was painted white, but it was in need of fresh paint. It creaked open quite loudly.

This time, Millard was the one earning a near concussion by the ceiling level. I fumbled for the light switch at the bottom of the stairs. They blinked on slowly.

Millard led the way to Enoch's special organ shelf, which I was grossed out by all the time. He screwed the lid off a jar of, of, eyeballs?! The key fell in it and he put it back on the shelf.

"Bugger off, I've got weapons!" Called an accented voice belonging to Enoch O'Connor, the one and only.

"It's me and Millard, Enoch. It's okay." I called.

"Oh, good." He came around the corner. "I didn't actually have any weapons." He laughed.

"Have you seen the others?" Millard asked.

"They're in the library, except Fiona and Horace. That, and Bronwyn, I assume you know she's outside."

"Yeah, well, Horace is currently locked in a closet with the younger girls." At Enoch's weird expression, Millard said, "don't ask."

"Now," he continued, "I'm going to need your help killing all these wights, okay? And I, for one, think your organ jars would make excellent bombs."

"Anythin' to get those bloody monsters out of our home." Enoch said. He started pulling down jars of all kinds, checking the labels. He smiled at a couple, and set them down on the table behind him. "These," he said, similar to a farmer proudly showing his prized cattle, "I've had these since before I came here. Very nasty." He grinned. "Let's give those Devils a run for their money!"