Chapter Text
After the first time Scarlett and Heather hung out, they started to talk more and more. For weeks, Scarlett would chat about her interests and family, and Heather about her father and his friends.
aw
“Yeah, they are intimidating at first, but I’ve known them since I was little. Well, adopted.” Heather clarified. “Oh really? How old were you?” Scarlett replied, swinging on the tire swing in the woods, which they found while wandering the forest. She still had her signature poofy curly red hair down and was wearing a ‘Blondie’ shirt with overalls.
“Yeah, I look nothing like my dad,” Heather giggled, “He’s native and I’m well, quite the opposite. He adopted me when I was about 5 or so, and I grew up with him, his wife, and their son.” Heather pushed a piece of her blonde hair out of her face.
“I don’t really remember my birth parents. I just know they died in a tragic accident after taking a hike in the woods,” Heather finished, leaning against a tree, twiddling with a branch. She had her hair in a high ponytail this time, wearing mom jeans and a yellow tee with the words 'Radio Gaga' on it.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry for your loss,”
“Not much of a loss when you never really knew them,”
“Yeah, I guess so..” Scarlett finished.
Pine trees were scattered all over the forest, along with a few black ashes, which coincidentally the swing was hung from. It was around 5 pm, and the sun was just starting to set.
Scarlett noticed her brother Zach walk toward them, looking bored.
“Hey bud, you wanna try at the tire swing?” Scarlett asked, hopping off the flying saucer.
“Yeah! That looks awesome,” Zach replied enthusiastically.
Zach climbed into the tire, standing up, and started swinging. Back and forth, faster and faster.
“Hey bud, you might wanna slow down, don’t want you going flying,” Scarlett warned wholeheartedly.
Though, Zach being 11, didn’t like to listen to his sister’s worries. He was big now, he thought. He could take care of himself. But, being the clumsy kid he was, he leaned a bit too far over, and when the tire swung forward, he lost his grip. Zach flew forward, a few meters in front of him, still by the tree.
“Zach! Are you okay? What did I tell you?” Scarlett said, starting to chastise.
“I’m fine, Scarlett. Reall-'' When falling, he had shaken the tree, releasing whatever had been hung up in it. It had fallen on top of him, knocked the wind right out of him. Zach hadn’t quite realized what was on him until Scarlett started screaming bloody murder. On top of him was the body of a man, well, half of one. As it didn’t have any legs or torso. It wore what was left of a bloody ripped plaid jacket. It stared without any eyes. It smelled like death. No soul left.
~skippitybebop ROCKETMAN skippitybebop~
“What did I tell you about taking the girl out to the woods?” Heather’s father had whispered harshly to her, grabbing onto her arm tightly and dragging her away from the now crime scene. Yellow tape was strung on trees surrounding the tire swing, the body, and the traumatized siblings.
“Papa, I’m sorry. We were just having fun,” Heather explained.
“There IS no time for fun, He comes tonight,” he stated, “You were only supposed to distract them so I can take la mére,”
Chaska Doucette was a busy man, getting ready for the night of renewal. To ascend. He had adopted Heather as an infant to cover up something much sinister. He had waited for decades for this night.
“I know Papa, I promise I won’t let you down,” Heather convinced, trying to pry his hand off of her.
“You better not, the wetiko comes, and we need them in order to ascend. You know what happened last time the ritual failed. Do not become a failure like your brother,”
“I promise, Papa.”
~skippitybebop ROCKETMAN skippitybebop~
After about an hour of questioning by the police, Scarlett was ready to go home. Zach had refused to speak to anyone, and knowing they couldn’t get anything out of him, they let them leave.
When they finally got inside, Scarlett went straight to her room. What had she just witnessed? Who did that to that poor man? No, what did that to that poor man. Surely it couldn’t have been a bear, because how did he get in that tree? Scarlett was willing to find out.
Scarlett walked out of her room and mostly ignored her mother’s questions of where she was heading. All she responded with was “library, be back later,”.
“But honey, do you wanna talk about it?” Carolyn’s advances at a conversation were shut out. Carolyn sighed and wondered what horrors her children had bared witness to. She then heard a knock on her front door. Frustrated thinking it was the cops again.
“Look, I think my children have gone through enough trauma for one day so maybe come back tomorr-” but to her surprise, it wasn’t the authorities. But a middle-aged man with aged russet-brown skin and dark brown eyes encased with a pair of silver-rimmed aviator glasses.
“Oh, I’m sorry to disturb you,” the man said, with one of his hands on the back of his neck, smiling.
“Oh no, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” Carolyn replied, feeling like an idiot for yelling at this poor man.
“Oh no, I understand. Sorry, I heard what happened earlier and was coming to see if everyone was okay,” the man said, holding out an apple pie that smelled fresh out the oven.
“Actually, it was my kids and my daughter’s friend, but thank you,” Carolyn replied, taking the pie out of his warm hands.
“Yeah, my daughter,” the man laughed.
Carolyn found it a bit odd that he wasn’t with his daughter after the whole incident, and he definitely didn’t look like Heather, but she wanted to be polite.
“Oh! Your Heather’s dad? Nice to meet you! I’m Carolyn,” Carolyn said ecstatically, taking out her hand for him to shake.
‘Nice to meet you, and you can call me Chaska,” he replied, shaking hers.
“Would you want to come in?” Carolyn asked, opening the door a bit more.
“Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds great,” He replied, this time without a warm expression.
Carolyn shook it off as shock, and let him inside, sitting the pie on the counter, and putting on a pot of tea.
“You have a lovely home, and family,” Chaska announced, picking up a picture of Carolyn and her now broken family. She felt she shouldn’t tell him about her ex-husband and dead child, because, baggage.
“Thank you, I’d say the same to you, but I don’t think I’ve met your wife?” Carolyn replied, curiously.
“She died a few years ago, along with my son, Jacy. It's just Heather and myself now,” Chaska replied, without an expression.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Carolyn said, now feeling like an ass for asking.
“It’s ok, it had to be done,” Chaska replied, coldly.
“Excuse me?” Carolyn replied, a bit taken back by his statement.
“Hm? Oh, I do love your counters. Are they ceramic?” Chaska asked, avoiding her question entirely. Chaska ran his hand down the countertop, walking close to the knife block, which was next to the toaster.
“Y-yeah, they are, uhm shouldn’t you be getting back to your daughter, to comfort her?”
“Oh she’s fine,” Chaska replied, turning to face her, and grabbing a large knife from behind him. Carolyn leaned on the kitchen table, a bit frightened now.
Chaska started to pace toward her, looking her in the eye.
“You need to leave, now,” Carolyn suddenly blurted out.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll call the cops,”
“That’s not a very polite thing to say to a guest,” Chaska stated, revealing the knife, and twiddling it in his hands.
“Get out!”
“You’re being very disrespectful, I don’t tolerate disrespect,”
Chaska suddenly took a swing at Carolyn, but she ducked, dashing toward the knife block.
“Don’t make it so difficult, just give in,” Chaska replied, getting a bit angered at her defiance. Carolyn knew Zach was still in the house and was hearing this, but hoped he wouldn’t leave his room. Chaska lunged toward her, lashing the knife at her. It caught her arm but didn’t do so much damage. Carolyn took a plate she had dried earlier and smashed it over his head.
“You salope!” Chaska yelped, recoiling in anguish. Carolyn tried to grab for the phone but Chaska sloppily slashed Carolyn’s hand.
Carolyn screamed holding her injured hand. Chaska swung again but missed. Carolyn got an idea, and picked up the hot kettle of boiling water with a towel and threw the water on him.
Carolyn heard a sizzling sound as Chaska screamed violently, twitching around, until he fell to the floor. Thinking he must be dead by now, Carolyn picked up the phone and started to dial 911. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her back, and warm fluid flooded through her blouse. She gasped in shock, and reached back to feel the handle of the knife, the blade deep into her. As she turned around, gasping, she saw Chaska looking over her, with burns all over his face and arms.
“It didn’t have to end this way,” Chaska said, seething through his burns. Carolyn gasped and fell to the ground. Chaska heard her try to speak through gargling blood.
“Shhhh,” Chaska hushed, putting his finger shakily over his mouth;
“Time to sleep”.