The Darkness and the Past

Chapter 1

AN: Dearies, dearies, dearies... Welcome to another story, created by a wicked spell-bound feather and bewitched thoughts. Coco, in my opinion, one of the best movies Pixar has ever created, is now the victim of my crazy mind and they are all in for a wild and emotional ride. *Please, Riveras! Don't hurt me with your shoes! I still love you, so much!*

I don't have any rights for COCO, except for the delusional original characters in this. And now get your flashlights and charms ready, as we venture into... The Darkness and the Past.

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The sun was already starting to sink behind the mountain line surrounding the little town of Santa Cecilia, colouring the sky and the clouds in various shades of pink, orange and red. A slight wind had come up, cooling the faces of the musicians at the Plaza Mariachi, who had played there all day, including a young boy sitting atop a wall, a guitar in his lap. Miguel.

He smiled brightly, revealing a little gap in his teeth and a dimple on the left corner of his mouth as he thankfully turned his bronze coloured face into the crisp air blowing from the mountains. Miguel Rivera gently picked up his handmade guitar, running his fingers over the colourful details he decorated it with. They reminded him of the ornaments on the skeletal face of his beloved papá. Héctor...

He gave the cords a strum. Letting out a happy sigh, the boy cleared his throat and started to sing. He had been working on new songs, still taking refuge in his hide-out, although his family now openly accepted music in the household, for work and inspiration. The song he was singing now had been one of the first ones he had written after arriving back in the living world.

It spoke of love through the ages, the importance of remembering and family. After the song had ended, Miguel put down the instrument and – seemingly out of impulse – extended a hand, only to blindly grasp air beside him. "Wasn't that good, Dante? What do you think, boy? Dante?", he asked, but only the wind answered him.

The boy winced a little and laid his head back. He thought of everything that had happened, how it had changed his whole life forever. After his unexpected visit to the other side, something frightening and at the same time awe-inspiring had occurred. The young Rivera had discovered that he could see ghosts. Not only perceive their energy but actually see their appearances and even talk to them if he wanted. At first, he had been scared out of his wits, but he had soon learned to enjoy it and be proud of his exceptional gift.

Although his new-found psychic abilities had given him the peace of mind that he had truly saved his papá Héctor, he still felt miserable at times. Sometimes, Miguel missed his dead family so much that he would lay curled up on his bed all day, just crying, refusing to do anything. He would miss Imelda, his fiery but good-hearted mamá, alongside her impressive alebrije Pepita, his sweet tía Rosita... and Dante. His brave and loyal Xolo friend had been forced to stay behind in the Land of the Dead since he had officially become a spirit guide. Miguel was a strong believer in destiny, but still, he sometimes wished everything had gone so very different...

Miguel felt tears trickling down his face. He decided that this was one of his more 'sensible' days. The boy wiped his wet eyes with his sleeve and jumped from the wall, securing his guitar on his back with a strap. "Papá Héctor wouldn't want me to cry...", he told himself, like every time that he lost control over his emotions. It was starting to get increasingly dark and he wanted to get home before his parents chewed him out on being late. And not even speaking of his abuelita... Miguel decided to take one of his short-cuts he had frequently used to get from his house to the plaza in the past. He felt confident as he jogged through the rows of dark unused houses. He was already nearing the end of it, when...