Chapter Text
Mandy Hutchins thought she’d seen it all. Literally. The vague memory of knowing everything hung within her mind, even after the day had been mostly removed from her memory. But this, what she would learn in the next few minutes, she never thought possible. It couldn’t be possible. She thought her great grandfather had made sure of that. Why would he let one of his kin go into all of this alone, if he had died to keep all of the future generations safe?
Mandy had received a letter from her parents a few days ago asking her to come home. They said there was something wrong. Something she had to know about before she got too attached. I mean, she knew her family was cryptic as shit sometimes, but that’s a bit too foreboding for her taste. Normally she would take any chance possible to not be around her parents. Not that they were bad, she loved her parents with whatever part of herself didn’t love her children wholeheartedly. Her sister was the issue. Laurel had been a terror to Mandy ever since she was born, for no apparent reason too. She was and is, in fact, Mandy’s second least favorite thing ever, rivaled only by The King In Yellow itself, and even then it was close. But something this seemingly urgent warranted the mental torment of dealing with Laurel. Mandy called to ask one of her friends to watch her kids for the day and set off to her parents’ home.
Before she could even walk up the first steps of the porch, she was greeted unceremoniously by the swift movements of the door swinging open, being pulled inside by her sister, and the door slamming shut once more. Mandy straightened herself a bit while Laurel looked frantically through the front windows. “Were you followed?” Laurel asked. “What happened to ‘hello!’ or ‘Haven’t seen you in a while’?” Mandy responded with a flat tone.
“Now is not the time for your sarcasm, sister. Answer.”
“Probably? I mean, what woman isn’t followed from time to time?” She had meant it jokingly, but it only seemed to sour her sibling’s declining mood. Good.
Laurel narrowed her eyes at the remark. “Good enough, I suppose. Follow me.” She led the pair through the house and into a back room. The sun room, as their parents referred to it, because of how hot it got due to the many windows that lined the walls. The sun room also held one of three exits or entrances to the house, through the backyard. Laurel opened the back door and ushered Mandy out of it. It was a relatively cloudy day, the kind of day where there’s just enough sunlight to see but not so much that it was blinding. Nonetheless, Laurel’s dirty blonde hair gleamed like it was itself made of sunlight. One of the many things that greatly contrasted between the sisters, as Mandy’s dark and matte locks seemed to create a void that no amount of sun could penetrate.
It had become clear to Mandy where Laurel was leading her, to ‘the playhouse’. It was used as a substitute attic now, a storage unit. But when they were kids (and when they weren’t as bitter toward each other), the sisters and their cousins would make up all sorts of stories and lose hours of time in the makeshift shed. There were a lot of random things in that playhouse now: holiday decorations, old furniture, a few family treasures. The most important of those treasures was a chest full of letters. Letters from Auguste Hutchins, their great grandfather.
See, the Hutchins’ have endured something of a generational curse for more than 100 years. A certain eldritch god called The King in Yellow had it out for them ever since Auguste had an encounter with it, receiving the knowledge of everything that has, is, and ever will happen. He foresaw that the future generations would be put in the path of the King, and if he did nothing, none of them would be able to survive. He held out long enough to write letters to his children, and his children’s children, and every future generation he could. It had been 100-ish years since then, and the last time she saw it there had still been a lot of letters. The man surely wrote like he was running out of time, and everyone could be grateful for that.
Though, the fact that Mandy was being led to the very place where the chest was kept was not very comforting. Sure there were other things in the playhouse, but based on the letter she received from her parents, the chest was the only thing important enough to warrant such panic. And the “Don’t get too attached” part still gnawed at her brain. Was it missing? Did something happen to the letters? Is a horrible fate destined for someone in the newest generation?
…
Was something going to happen to one of her children?
Mandy could barely stomach the thought of any of her kids running into the god they were destined to meet already and surviving. But if one of them were to be horribly hurt by it?
..if they were to die?
“Mandy, emotion check.” Laurel spoke suddenly and harshly.
“Sorry.” she responded, quickly quieting her distressing thoughts.
Mandy didn’t get too emotional. It didn’t help that her “gift” for surviving The King was the manipulation of emotion. Anyone within a certain radius would be filled with whatever emotion she felt if she felt too much. It didn’t help that Mandy was actually an emotional person by nature. She had been trained to not have any “big feelings” since she was 14. And of course she’d been scolded for not keeping her emotions in check a lot. But she’d gotten the hang of it. Eventually. Having kids removed a lot of that progress. But really, you can’t blame her for that. If you could see her children, you’d get cuteness aggression too.
Laurel opened the door to the playhouse, the old paint crackling as she did. “Mother, father. She’s here.” she said as soon as they’d stepped inside. Mandy was immediately wrapped in a hug from her father.
“Mandy, mein schatz, it’s good to see you!” Fredrik Hutchins exclaimed as he squeezed his daughter tighter. Mandy practically had to force her way out of the embrace to look her father in the eyes. “Hi, papa. It’s good to see you too.” She couldn't help but smile.
As much as Mandy didn’t like being around her family, she loved her dad. He had always been the happy-go-lucky type, like she was. Not to mention he was the only one who consistently called Laurel out on her bullshit, which gave him a leg up against her other relatives (who adored her sister to no end). His only flaw was that he was an absolute simp for her mother.
Anya Hutchins was less whimsical than her husband. Quite the opposite actually. She was stern, no-nonsense most of the time, typical rough matriarch traits. And like the rest of her family, it was obvious she loved Laurel more than she did Mandy. Speaking of her mother, she was sitting on the edge of the exposed second floor with a concerned smile.
“Don’t bombard her, Fredrik. She just got here and she already looks tired of you.” she remarked.
“Nonsense, Anya. She’s the only one of you who appreciates a good bear hug. And the gods forbid I hug my daughter after not seeing her for months.” the man fake-pouted. You could practically hear Anya and Laurel’s eyes rolling in sync. Mandy chuckled. Yea. She loved her dad. Despite everything, she loved her dad.
“Are we all reintroduced? I’d rather not delay our further investigation.” Another voice came from the top floor.
Well, now Mandy was more worried than she ever had been. That was her Uncle Albert. He lived somewhere in Europe, last she checked he was in Germany but he moved around a lot. He worked for an organization that researched and dealt with strange happenings around the globe. Strange as in ethereal or godly, Mandy thought the word he used for it was ‘metaphysical”. Whatever that meant. His work was top secret and the organization didn’t really do “time off”. She’d only seen him 3 times in her entire life, once when she was a little, once when she graduated high-school and then college. And every time he looked like he’d rather be somewhere else. A workaholic if she’d ever seen one.
The only reason Al was here was because something was very, very wrong.
“Yes, Al.” Fredrick sighed. “Jeez, at least give the girl a few minutes before we drop this on her.”
Mandy’s dad looked up scornfully at his brother. Never a dull moment, then.
“The sooner the better, in my opinion. The sooner I can get to my sources, and the sooner Mandy can.. release her attachments.” Al replied quickly and precisely, like he’d been waiting to say it. He appeared in the same exposed space as where her mother sat, kneeling as to not hit the roof.
“Not everyone here is a cold-hearted government agent, Albert. I should remind you of that.” Frederick retorted sternly. “Oh, do you mean you? Are you going to cry again? Piss your-” Albert spoke with the hostility of an angry hawk, earning a side-eye from Anya, before being cut off by a remark from Laurel.
“Boys, boys, you’re both handsome.” She said sarcastically, which earned a smile from her father and a chuckle from her mother. She smiled as well. Albert rolled his eyes and tried not to crack a smile. “Be careful who you talk to like that, dear. I can still put you in timeout.” Frederick joked. It would've earned a reaction too, if someone didn’t speak up.
“What investigation? What in the gods' names is going on?” Mandy exclaimed. She’d been silent since Al showed himself, processing and doomsday scenario-ing any possibility she could think of. Something was wrong, quite obviously, and it had something to do with the future Hutchins generation, which she expected everyone to care more about than the actual life or lives involved.
Mandy was physically panicking, she was sure of it, and under any other circumstance she would’ve found herself in a lecture about her powers, but right now the dark-haired woman would not let that sway her.
Everyone in the playhouse looked suddenly nervous, probably sensing her panic as well. But her father was the only one to look truly nervous.. and sympathetic, or sad?
“Mandy, darling. Something happened, two things actually but pertaining to the same issues,” he made hand movements like this was some kind of “Guess Who” game. “What? What happened? Papa, please, you can’t call me here and not tell me why!” Mandy nearly shouted. This impatience was mostly unprecedented for her, though valid when someone you loved could be in danger.
Frederick looked her straight in the eyes, as did Al. Anya looked toward Al and then to Laurel. Laurel, who was staring in the opposite direction in which Mandy was standing, as if the pile of tangled junk held her attention more than Mandy did.
“Well.. there’s just a small situation.” Fredrik fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt. “It might not mean anything but-”
“Derek and Cain don't have letters.” Albert cut in.
…
Mandy stood there, eyes wide and heart pounding, feeling as if her blood had turned to ice.
“What.” was all she could muster.