Chapter Text
1996
Pine Ridge, Colorado
It was a quarter to one-o-clock. Most people would be asleep in their bed. Although some might be staying up doing homework, office work, reading, or anything else, what they're doing doesn't really matter. This included the young woman facing an eye-burning bright computer.
Bella wasn’t exactly doing her job. Not like there was much to do, though. No one actually went to the library at this time, nobody broke in or anything of the sort…
So she passed the time by playing solitaire on her computer. Dragging a card to another, swishing it around with her mouse, and watching it move against the dark green background of that tab without actually setting it down.
God, she was bored. Just one more hour, she reassured herself, and you can head home to your apartment and crash on your couch. The impatient and immature side of herself argued that it was all so excruciatingly boring that she might as well rather jump off a bridge than do this. It pays well, though, the financially literate side of her retorted. The impatient and immature side of herself had to agree.
—Hold on, what was she doing again? Why was she… oh, whatever.
Her right hand found its way down to the drawer next to her, pulling it open and fishing out a lukewarm can of Red Bull.
She cracked it open, taking a long sip as a divorced old man would with his twelfth can o’ beer, reminiscing on the good ol’ days before Sharon took the kids and he wasn’t drowning in child support. She swallowed down its somewhat fruity flavor and turned back to her game of solitaire.
She then closed the game, instead opening a new tab and typing in the Geocities link for her blog. Dean had complimented her on her skillful coding, but she didn’t believe she was all too good at it, really. Some highschooler had been helping her anyway, and she’d just been skimming through forums that dealt with coding tips and what-not. She scrolled through it mindlessly to see if anyone’d asked anything or signed the guestbook. No one new, she concluded, so she closed the tab and rubbed her eyes.
She hadn’t seen her coworker Dean in a while, now that she thought about it. She leaned back in her chair, which creaked a little from the added pressure, and her thoughts began to drift to Dean. Bella had met him a month or two after being hired as a librarian, and he was the only person who also worked the night shift.
Thankfully, they got along very well. Appearance-wise, Dean wasn’t too remarkable. He was around Bella’s age—maybe a little older—with shaggy brown hair and slightly cracked glasses that made him always look like he’d just escaped a scuffle. He had a goatee that he constantly scratched as a nervous habit, and he smelled a little like a wet dog, which she wasn’t going to outright comment on since that’d be pretty rude.
Along with this, he’d been the one to introduce her to all the forum websites about Pine Ridge, their town, when she had mentioned her interest in the paranormal. Pine Ridge was a hot-spot for all of the weird and supernatural, and in her hometown they always spoke of it like it was some tourist attraction, despite Hemmingsmore being literally just a couple miles away from Pine Ridge.
He was funny, a little dorky sometimes, but generally pleasant to be around. He often reminded her of a cartoon character with his mannerisms. She considered him a real good friend.
…Maybe her only one, right now.
He hadn’t been showing up to work for a week and a half, and a seed of worry planted itself in her mind. He was a bit sporadic, that was sure, which made Bella wonder how the manager hadn’t gotten on his ass for that yet. Not like she cared, or wanted Mara to. Still, she hoped he was alright. She sat up in her seat, and stretched with a loud groan. Her legs felt wobbly from being seated for so long, and her back ached from her not-exactly-perfect posture. Bella took another swig of her can of Redbull, and paced around behind the counter to get blood-flow to her legs.
That was when she heard the clink of the doors being opened, and her coworker stepped in.
“Hey Bell-Bell,” Dean said with a grin, and closed both glass doors behind him and placed his hands on his hips. Bella furrowed her brows.
“Where the hell have you been?” She scolded him lightly, not exactly angry. It was hard to be angry at Dean. He shrugged. “I’ve been caught up in a lotta B.S, that’s all.”
“So, what’s new?” He changed the topic, walking over to lean on the counter. She sighed. “Nearly avoided another shoot-out… the usual.”
“Ah, I see. Y’know, you really gotta start heeding my advice about adding metal detectors to the library. That’ll stop people from carrying weapons in–”
“You’d have to ask Mara about that, Dean.” She scoffed.
“But she’d kill me,” He argued.
“And I can’t order metal detectors, much less build one.”
“Touche.”
“Well, anyway, what about you?” Bella inquired, sitting back down in her seat and spinning around in it. He gave another shrug. “Life’s been going.”
Why was he so vague all of the time? It confused her, and she was just short of being entirely frustrated by it. “S’pose so.”
She unclipped her carabiner from the belt loop of her worn-out jeans, unlocking a drawer to her right.
“Do you want a Jolly Rancher?”
Dean’s face lit up. “Oh, do I, dude.”
That got a snicker out of her.
She pulled open the drawer, and as she searched in it she pulled out two pieces of candy–a grape one and a blue raspberry one–and slid the blue raspberry one onto the counter, which Dean promptly picked up. She unwrapped hers, also putting it in her mouth. She’d always been one for anything grape flavored, although it rarely actually tasted like grape.
Dean was about to put the jolly rancher into his mouth when Bella leaned in and her face turned dead-serious.
“Remember not to snitch about the drawer it to Mara, got it?”
Dean audibly gulped. “You act like this is some great cover-up you're behind, not a drawer full of candy.” He joked.
“It basically is! Remember when she caught you with a Snickers bar?”
“...Yeah, you're right. I won't tell a soul–scouts honor!” He saluted her, before popping the jolly rancher in his mouth. Bella held back a laugh.
They idly chatted for a while after that, about the weird customers, about the horrible food at the local diner, rumors, and really just everything. Then, Dean rested an arm on her computer, a tell-tale sign that he was going to try to get Bella to join him in on something, like a salesman giving his spiel. “So, get this,” He said, running a hand through his shaggy, unkempt brown hair.
“You know that abandoned oil rig down by the train tracks?”
“Uh huh. What about it?”
“Well, apparently it’s full of these man-eating creatures.”
“You're shitting me.” Bella held back a laugh. “No, no, I'm serious.” Dean leaned forward to look at her, an expression of genuineness coming across his face. “I was thinking of asking if you wanted to check it out with me,” He offered. “You up for it?”
A grin made its way across the ginger’s face. “Sure am. My shift’s about to end, anyway.” Her and Dean would go on these paranormal excursions together all the time, which usually ended up with the two speeding away in Bella’s shitty sedan after angering a few too many ghosts in whatever haunted house they decided to sneak into. The danger is what made it fun, the fear and risk of it all.
She turned off her computer and got out of her seat. Her worn-out brown satchel, which was resting against her desk, was now quickly slung over herself as she headed to the back. Once she grabbed her usual supplies–some holy water, her revolver—a Colt Python, double action, chambered in .357 Magnum; a small utility knife, 5 granola bars, 2 Slim Jims, and a few packets of salt–she walked out of the backroom.
“Your car or mine?” Bella looked at Dean.
“Has yours been stolen?” He asked.
“We’ll see.” Bella made her way towards the door, and gestured Dean over to follow her. He did, and they headed outside to the parking lot.
“Goddamnit.” Her car’s gone.