In Morte, Aerternitatis

In Morte, Aerternitatis (Ch. 3): Myths & Legends

Annie and Paul's house was understandably dark by the time she got there, but after her visit with Ethan she had to see them; had to see Annie. Ethan was holding something in, protecting someone, he had to be! It was true he'd been stand offish after Coleman's murder and perhaps irate in the face of comfort, but never had she heard him talk about murder.

Certainly not when it came to his father.

Whatever reasons he had for implicating himself, she needed to tell Annie. Maybe something he said would make a lightbulb go off if they put their heads together. Plus Paul could make a mean midnight snack while they brain stormed.

She made her way from her car to the front door and knocked, looking around at the foliage as she waited. After a minute she knocked once more with a bit more force, confused as to why she couldn't at least hear footsteps from inside the house. Just when she was about to start searching for the spare key, the door opened to reveal Paul in his pajamas.

"Well, well, well, look who the sandman woke up." He teased.

"Very funny, Top Chef. Do you mind if I come in? I know it's late, but-" Paul laughed at her flustered correction.

"Get your Russian rear in here, you know I'm teasin'." She scoffed at his amused expression and made her way inside, "So what brings yah to our humble abode at this hour?"

"I was actually hoping to speak to Annie. Just stopped by to check on Ethan and- well, something isn't sitting right with me. There's just something in the way he spoke that had me on edge" She sniffed the air as they neared the kitchen, "Do I smell crepes?" Paul snorted at her sudden train of thought.

"As a matter of fact, yes! Was makin' a little dessert for the lady of the house, but I suppose I can make another for our most special guest?" He declared while whipping up another round of batter.

"I don't mean to impose..." Anya smirked.

"Now what kind of chef would I be if I didn't make enough for everyone?" Paul smiled and picked up his tray after setting the batter onto the hot pan, "Keep an eye on that for a minute while I run this up to Annie, I'll let her know you're here." And with a flourish, he was off and running.

Anya laughed at his enthusiasm and went to work with the crepe, no way she was gonna just sit and look at it. After the top had turned a slight golden color, she flipped it over and grabbed the cream and berries from where Paul had left them. After the pastry was done, she began to spread all the fixings evenly until a smashing of glass broke her from her concentration.

Looking up in alarm she called out for anyone who would answer. When she received no answer, curiosity and concern took over.

"Annie? Paul?" She called out once more as she made her way down the long hallway only to hear the sounds of what she could describe as panic quickening her pace at the sound of Annie's call for Paul.

Finally making her way to the last small set of steps, she froze at what she saw.

Annie stood frozen in fear, her hair disheveled and her eyes wide as saucers at the scene before her. From what she could tell, Paul was struggling and gasping in pain; restrained by the tall figure closest to her. It was clearly another man, but her first thought was of the sheer height he displayed; height that offset extremely broad shoulders swathed in a long black coat. Shit, it didn't matter what he looked like, she needed to think quick if she wanted to get him away from Paul.

"HEY!" She shouted in the sternest voice her inner babushka could muster. At her scream, Annie's head turned to her, fear painted onto her skin.

"Anya! Oh my god, Anya!" Annie cried as the figure turned with Paul still in his grasp to face the red head.