15 - Watching a rewinding

She makes it back to the living world, but it was due the reverse. She looses nothing and watched the living world glitch in and out of buildings or people. Souls that been missing are returned and those that should be here were wiped away like dust to the wind. Advertising billboards aged peels and blurry ghost phantom glue one new which only aged and peels.

The high street where her flat was rebuilt itself with the living world blurring motions of people waning as fast as the sun raised in the west and sets in the east. Moon dancing out of alignment pulling back the months and faster escalates time.

The creatures that live among humans but out of human reach were in danger of all these motions. One crushed by the rebuilding of a gas leak in the road and buried within the ground. Imps trapped and anyone trapped from escaping the other side was moving around to survive, the world a death trap of swatting these pests into dust.

She was immune to these alterations and immune from both living and dead around. Only that she was slapped in the face with a page. Old crinkled page that was dirty and creased. She could barely recognize her father's uncrowded name among the blood streaked list of names. Meer reading and touch of the paper made it latch to her skin.

She along with a few of those spirit not attacked by scenery were back in a slow paced world. The street with snow and everything was closed. She wad back at the bench, her outfit suggested that she was at a Christmas party. She wipes her face of smeared makeup and wet salty tears. Her praise on her lap was half opened with her phone thrown in. She takes a big breath in and let's her mind adjust. Although nothing was making sense of any changes.

At least she as a working phone. So what is her life now and why is she crying. What Christmas party did she leave from. Had to be Christmas, the shops around here all have notices.

"I was temporarily hired at a bar as Christmas temp staff. A Seer came in and had me fired. I wasn't even paid for the 8 hours I was there." She sighed in that the battery dies now, "Alone. On the street." She picks about her bag, "No house. No keys. Barely a lick of money." She closed everything up, wipes away all the wet off her face and leans back, "And this was when..." She peers behind her. The little alleyway that takes her to the nightmare creep shop was wide open, more so then normal. She smiles and dusted off the snow, "This was when I came up with MG candle esty business. Made money to earn enough. Taking the remains of candles from the fight down here." She goes to watch the show, she leans comfortable at the creep store wall. She watched undertakers fighting a illegal demon. The demon was the reason she was just fired from the bar without pay, the Seer was the human that informed other humans. It was this demon that stole out the till that she worked from. When this fight is over, the money it stole will drop. The human possessed by the demon is left unconscious on the floor and money sprayed about. As she noticed last time, candles. She put out the flame of the candle nearest to the door of this store. She picked it up with everything else she did as before. The money. The candles. The man she collared and dragged backwards. She takes him with her back to the bar she was just at. She throws him and the money he stolen. She flips off the confused and annoyed staff of her return. She left again, ignored the plead of someone calling her back there and that they checked cctv a little to late. They will send her money by bank transfer on five days. She doesn't have the energy and patience to be civil to a place that kicked her out like that. She returns back to the alley of darkness because she had better chances for earning quick money with spirit people. There was always lost or souls that could leave this realm for whatever regerts they had. These spirits were the target.

"Do you get the sense of having done this before?" He asked that last time too. She of course found no damned spirits to make anything with. She ignores him as before because she is doubtful he knows what he is even asking her. She stops at a abnormal store looking at the sort of ingredients on offer, it seems that even spirits have Christmas. It was now that she turned around and looked about his uniform. More then that, his eyes. She looked him right in the eyes and tilted that he wasn't breathing like a human. She held that stare longer and still said nothing. She thought nothing particular about this whole moment, not at all reacting to his weirdness. He wiggled hands in joking around as the assumption that spirit people are meant to scare the living. Given this was failed he sighed and paused time around them and that snow that was about to fall stops mid air. She of course loves it, her left hand plucking a snowflake in the air. It doesn't melt or change until she changed it. watched it melting on her finger. A soft smile in how he backed away that she still moving.

"Don't you know?" She speaks without her life voice and at such a gentle tone, "No normal spirit or living walks this dark alleyway. A place is a zip pocket or a seam along eclipsed realms." She pose a finger at her lip, "Quietly now, leave while they are still distracted." She snaps fingers at returning time, he takes no chances in hearing her again. Left the alley. She stays right here and twirls on lowering. Picking up a small kitten of black fur, sleepy and hungry. She purrs and it mirrors her. It curls on her hands, embrace of her warmth and love. Altered into a little stone pearl, she held close to her heart and still purring all the same.

"I am homeless and hungry too." She purrs, "But now I don't need to be alone."

She leaves the alley, or at least began to. The nightmare of that craft store waves her over. Gifted her a small bag of supplies, not only for the candle removal but things the little kitten in her hands needed. She sign language her thanks. Leaves all the same. It nods and greets she was welcome and that she can come visit his store for other goods. Lanky dark giant is still a kind gentle creep. Afraid of the slayer then her.

"This realm is crazy!" Curiosity struggles at fighting alone with two demons and four imps over him. She waves at banishing the imps away, to weak for a simple prayer. The two demons are concernable suddenly weaker from it. He pushed them back. One dusted at the risk of him getting cut through the shoulder. He was unable to make that last push to get rid of the last demon, but she allows the kitten to devour the rampant demon. She helps the undertaker off the floor, takes out cleaning stuff and starts treating his wounds on this bench again. Back to where she was just crying about losing everything.

"I should have just avoided things." He mopes.

"But isn't that the nature of your nickname?" She is able to sew the uniform a little in helping the wound closed up. Spirit injures are the same as living people. They are like dolls. They have no regard for bacteria and infections - the realms they live in are sterile and their bodies don't work like living do. She cleaned the area in just being able to see how to sew it better. Morpheus returned fuller pop belly and curls himself on her lap, purring and happy. A little sigh and he deep asleep, "You undertakers all have nicknames that suit to your personality or how you died." She puts stuff away, "You the literally meaning of 'Curiosity killed the cat'. This kitten in my lap was an egg of a god slayer. Now it had adapted to the realm around me. It can't live without me." She holds the little precious creature, it doesn't care how she holds him or that sh plays with his toes, "No one goes down pocket alleyway unless they know what they were doing. Or that you wandered to in by accident and interest took the better of you."

"I was on a mission to recover lost things from a pair of undertakers that were just fighting there." She nods gently at that being reasonable, "But it seems you beat me to it." He pointed about Morpheus, "He was stolen off a dream boundary."

"He was looking for me. He would have let himself be taken otherwise. I know this little beast." She snickered, "Now I am just the hungry one." Back to the reality of things and wondering if a homeless shelter would help her. Those places will be packed. It's Christmas.

"I need the weapons the demon dropped and at least one the candles." She lifted these things from shadow. The twin daggers with a candle balancing. He takes them, "You were a witness."

"Myself, the gloomy creep that owns a store that you lot trapped by candle and this fluff black ball." The notepad out and writes everything, and even the little things about her way of saying it. He goes over the non personal questions like how they met and her status. Of course he was shocked and wary of her being with cult, he will never be convinced that she isn't until he sees substantial proof. He asked about how much she witnessed and her reasons of being in an dark alleyway on Christmas day. She was honest as she can allow to be, with some details held back like that she know to be there form feeling de ja vue and that she knows time rewinded.

"I will reach you out again." He removes a hat with a veil hiding his face. It suited the staying anomalous grim repear vib. Streaks of pink long hair pokes behind, swaying in his steps. He was always a quick pace walker, gone out of sight and the snow freshly laying. She shivered at the wind picking up and that she has to get moving. She doesn't own a coat or know of she did. She walks holding the orb close, of a sleeping kitten. She reached past where her flat was, an empty lot of weeds and fallen walls. She took the alley into the nice neighborhood, the tvs are all on watching the living queen of Englands Christmas speech. She barely just managed avoided sliding into the middle of the road.

"Lord's sorrows, child." A group of caroal singers were in shock of her. Her blues lips, smear makeup and goosebumps cold arms. Someone giving her a coat around and let her stand with them. The person in charge of the song changes and the direction of singing tones was who spoke. Generosity of the season, they help her charge her phone and warm with a drink. She explains her story to them, not to personal but enough to understand circumstances.

"I moved here not to long ago. My mother and I came to this country in hope of not having to afford a new roof every year." She says seat with the group, "I am looking what to do next with my life. I need to make money to have citizenship with would have made getting a job easier by now. But no one wants to hire immigrate. I don't blame you lot either, I see that job shortages getting worse for everyone." She sips the tea a moment, "I worked so hard today that I completely forgot where I live and how to get home."

"Well you need medical attention." One them getting out a med kit and starts cleaning her forehead. She knocked herself back at bar. It wasn't visible at the time and the gash of her eye brow was now opening from it. Photo are taken. She has defensive scratches on her arms. She been so unaware of her pain and was in shock that maybe she wasn't fired but just injured. The guy that stole the money was sorted by now.

They called for emergency and it wasn't long she was on a stretcher. Under for a cat scan and asking her what she remembers. They gladly found she carried ID ans traced back everything for her. Even of she was clueless herself.

"She in likely having temporary memory lost due to swelling in her head. When the swelling is down, she be normal." She was uncomfortable in a hospital gown but warmer with water down tea. The singer that took her here was able to go back to the group. She lays in the hospital bed staring at the ceiling. She only had to briefly close them for her mind to take so many trips to all sorts of memories and jolting her back awake with a headache or the experience of dying. She can feel her dreams too; that punch, this cut or that limb removed. Diced in many pieces and yet waking up to it being there.

"They say I should keep a close eye on you." She wasn't sure if this was a memory, a hallucination of the mind or that he stood leaning on the bed table looking at her. Measuring her for sure, "You seem to be just fine crossing over for short bursts. Records are surfacing from a glitch in the Sigil system." He straightens out all the medic wires and clearly with time stopped this wasn't a problem.

"Anomalies between wrinkles happen, entire loops of history has been rewritten many a time. All those hypothetical things living think about were just returned time fragments." Her voice a little hoarse then she thought and she so very sleepy for paused time, "Are you trying to kill me?"

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." He shurg, "But no. I came to take a blood sample."

"Then the result will be as it always had been. A blood of a lost branch with a idiot of direct descendant in utter denial. I have no love or care for what happens to the Seers or the Tricksters. They were just the hands to pass down a baton." He shurgs at hearing her, "Why are you bothering for proof through blood? You could have just asked if I could summon the tomes."

"Proof to take to the king, not just empty words." She sighed at that being a good point.

"Well keep my blood safe then. You will find it very helpful. My travel outside of things had adapted me. I have persistent many things and faced things even nightmare flee from. My blood has a smell that attracts God slayers, they will follow you for every moment you have hold of my blood." She stares to the ceiling and the heart monitor was back again. It had a strange reading but then was normal again. The on site watching staff were quick out the wood work. She was the intensive care watch ward after all. She answers the doctor questions at the best of her ability but her speech did slur and there is struggle. It would seem she overcame the hiccup just a quick as it happened. Although now she was on strong strange meds to help with her heart and nerve pains. They have meds to prevent seizures but really if she experience a large one - the meds wouldn't stop it. Breathing equation and oxygen level checked. Cardon levels checked.

"Move her." She been awake this whole time and now there was some rough treatment from strangers. The equipment turned off ans taken off. The doctors stood away, with force too. Into a wheel chair ans the strange chains wrapped around her locked to the chair and around her arms. Both loving and not types chains. She relaxs, forced herself into meditation despite the danger situation. She doesn't want to waste energy on panic and fear. Not rhe frist times she been treated rudely and in fear of her. It's the interesting part about all this, she can taste that they were scared of her. Scared of even a finger lifted, so her acting passed out had them calm too. Panic people are unpredictable while in fear.

"Search her bed now and everything! look for it!" She can hear the tension of frustration raising and that even as she was this moment didn't matter about thier panic. "She has it! Look for it, Now!" Hands began to feel her arms and chest. They aren't able to feel everything up with chains or how she was slumped.

"Get her awake! Make her scream if you must!" She lifted her head and glares in how they forced pose on the wheel chair and the lack of dignity they have.

She knows this prick from a mile away, and now he is leaned at her with hospital gown pulled to make her look at him. She turned so icy in study ans looks him in the eyes. She doesn't need to speak. He got scared and let her got, kicked her to push the chair away. She still follows his eyes all the same, flick slight from the kick but that gaze was unfiltered of her inner expressions. That he was dead to her, and there isn't love of family to be had here. Her eyes burn colder the more he watched her back, his afraid of cutting sight. Afraid of her.

"Where is the missing page?" He wavered.

"You tell me, you ripped it out." She was speaking with her living voice but it can be mistaken as spirit speaking. That ability she uses to communicate with the other spirits. Her tone was exactly as she would be when she dies, the voice she will carry when she becomes a husk of a undertaker. The lack of emotion and flat tone would confuse any that heard her speak many a time, quirky to her name sake.

"I did." He spoke empty in knowing that he did and that this wasn't a lie, "I want it back."

"Its not up to us." He shivered that this is true too, it's the tome sentiment nature to pick. It was nothing much said, only that they packed her up, wheeled out the hospital and taken. The living chains may have been removed but the spirit chains binds her to the chair. If she wasn't weak from whatever drugs they put to her system and this banging headache - she would have left these chains.