Atop a hill on the edge of a small town there sits a lonely house with a sour aura. There you will find a man with stitches running around his neck, a chip on his shoulder, and a gun at his hip. If you have dallied in the dark, played with demons, o...
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It was midday when a small Lincoln town-car pulled down the desolate driveway to the remains of the Crowley estate and came to a halt twenty feet away from the crater that had once been their home.
"I know it's been a few weeks but, you'd think there'd be cops or something," Margaret exposited as she cautiously eyed the horizon.
"There were," Faldecto explained, kneeling down to touch the grass with his metal fingers, "The tire tracks are fresh," he stated aloud, "We may have just missed them."
"Which means they could be back at any minute, so," she leaned against the driver's side door, fitting a pair of sunglasses onto her brow, while watching Lizzie exit from the passenger side, "Not to rush you or anything."
"I won't be long," Lizzie assured them both, and wandered up the hill, half stumbling, half shuffling her feet, a small grocery bag swinging wildly from her fist as she was still unaccustomed to the dimensions and feel of her new body and tried to compensate for her lack of balance.
"Well," Margaret shrugged, slipping the glasses down over her eyes and turning to sit down next to the car, "I'd say she's making pretty good progress, didn't fall down once."
"Indeed," Faldecto nodded, rising back up to a standing position his gaze fell upon the girl with an intensity that would frighten most people.
"Ever the doting father," Margaret sighed, and looked around at the destruction before lighting a cigarette, "All this for her, was it worth it?"
"The cost is not something I am able to estimate, I gave up nothing in this venture."
"That's not true, you lost your only friend, you don't feel bad about that?"
"I lost nothing, it was his choice in the end, I honor him in his determination, and the promise I made."
"Yeah," Margaret rolled her eyes, "But he's still dead, it's going on two weeks now and you've barely said anything about him."
"All that could be said was told when he was living," Faldecto responded flatly, "There is naught left to express."
"But... I mean, don't you feel anything at all? Regrets? Nothing?"
"No," finally looking away as Lizzie crested the hill, his gaze fell upon Margaret , "And yourself? Have you nothing to say to him? Perhaps you should join the Young Mistress upon the lip of the crater to profess your love and undying devotion."
"I wasn't in 'love' with Ichabod," she snapped, "Not even sure I was in love with his father," taking a long drag from her cigarette, thinking it over, "But, they were both a bigger part of my life than I'm willing to admit, and... and I liked it here, sitting here on the edge of a world most people don't know about, can't even dream about..."
"You were a voyeur then," Faldecto surmised, "Watching their world, but never of it, and that kept you safe."
"Yep," she agreed, letting out a deep billow of smoke before stubbing out the cigarette and tucking the remains back in with the others, "Should've known that couldn't last, it was fun though, it was fun."
