too salty to stay dead

[springlocking]

[The dead are supposed to stay dead. Someone dies and that's supposed to be it. Except in this neck of the woods, that's not how it works, is it? The kids didn't leave after dying, after all.

In hindsight, this should've been an expected consequence. Should've seen it coming.

Sad truth is, not everyone's savvy or psychic enough to predict that the serial killer they put down a while ago wouldn't be staying dead - or wouldn't be bound to the spring suit he died in. Never say that the protagonist card was kind, not with allowing the dirtbag's spirit to wander freely and who knew what else he was capable of now. (Nightmare on Elm Street is probably a documentary here...)

The worst time to learn this is when she's driving down a deserted road late at night, don't you think?]

Comments

[springlocked]

[He sighs and shifts around to sit in the front seat beside Charlie while they're stopped, where he props his feet up on the dash and rests his arms behind his head. After a moment of silence, he starts to whistle the Toreador March.

He's actually kind of pleased with how everything is working out right now, even if Charlie is refusing to acknowledge him. Nobody has to see him if he doesn't want them to. Of course it might turn out that only Charlie can hear him in the first place, but that's okay. He never really was a people person, and he'll never have to fake it again.]

[springlocking]

[The minute the whistling starts up, Charlie's expression turns very, very sour. Great! Wonderful! She never wanted to hear that song again but did her apparent mental issues respect that wish? Not in the least.

To try and drown it out, she turns the radio back on with a tsk, changing it from AM to FM and, at a stop sign, messing with the dial until some hard rock comes on. There. Something to focus on that had nothing to do with her apparent encroaching insanity.

She should probably have been more distressed about it, she supposed, or shocked, but somehow this didn't surprise her at all. Maybe she just didn't care at this point. At any rate, the drive continued along with her not randomly speaking to thin air. She was, however, starting to rub at the thin scar slicing across her cheek - the one Foxy had given her - at red lights and stop signs.

It was a nervous tic, no doubt about it, and it'll only stop once she gets back home.]

[springlocked]

[Well that's rude. He eyes the radio, then Charlie, then reaches over. Can he... ah, there we go. The radio switches itself off, and he sits back with a triumphant sort of smirk. If he's going to test the limits of his body, he might as well have fun with it. He goes back to whistling, waving one hand lazily in the air as if conducting.]

[springlocking]

[THAT got her attention, and she takes a quick look - yeah, the radio switched itself off. It...did that. Well, the car is getting old, but more importantly-]

Hearing and seeing things...not good.

[It feels a bit colder, somehow, and she can't help the shiver that causes. But then, she's alone in the car, with nothing but her apparent hallucinations to keep her company.]

It isn't real. Gotta remember it isn't real, [and with that the light changes and she's off again. Almost home, just a little further. Just a bit, she can do that. Just a couple more blocks.]

[springlocked]

If you say so.

[He wonders what his limits are here; so far he can talk to her and interact with things, but he doesn't know how to make himself visible. Maybe he just needs to want it to happen. So he turns to stare at her, still smiling, willing himself to be seen.]

[springlocking]

[It feels like time stopped in the worst way for a moment. Her face drains quickly of all color as she sees something very wrong out of the corner of her eye. Another look confirms it - the person she never wanted to see again.

Which means there's another explanation, one less plausible than the first- but is it, really? After all, at Freddy's, hadn't the children's ghosts refused to move on too?

Time resumes, and when she slams the brakes, she ends up whacking the back of her head on the headrest. She doesn't let out anything more than a small grunt of pain, though, because showing weakness to a ghost just seems like a bad idea.

This time, she is deliberately not looking at him, eyes forward and mouth set in a thin line. After a moment, though, she does speak. Boy, does she sound irritated.]

... Go away.

[Ah, there's the driveway, time to pull in.]

[springlocked]

You should be more careful.

[He says it casually; he didn't do much more than rock slightly with the car as it stopped. Even if he'd hit the seat, he probably would have just gone through it. He clasps his hands in his lap and tilts his head slightly, that unpleasant smirk still lingering.]

Is that any way to greet an old friend?

[springlocking]

[Ah, that must be rage she's feeling. Everything just seems so surreal that she almost doesn't acknowledge it, but that last phrase brings it up. The anger, the revulsion, the disgust, everything.

She needs to go to sleep, she thinks idly. It's a little late to be up.

Ignoring the unwanted presence again, she turns the car off once it's where it needs to be, gets out, and heads indoors. If she slams the car door a little hard, well...it's been a long night. This happening here and now is too much to take. The 'now' was always a safe haven, after all...]

[springlocked]

[He pointedly blinks and raises his eyes a little as the door slams, mouthing a "wow". Not that he's actually surprised, but this little game he's playing is amusing to him. He gets out of the car and follows Charlie into the house, hands shoved in his pockets, whistling a tune to himself as he goes.]

Rough night or something?

[springlocking]

I said go away.

[It's said quietly. She tries to keep her tone cold, but between the earlier incidents, how strange this situation is, and oh, the fact that it's the murderous dirtbag, she's starting to get annoyed. It's not something she likes, especially now that she's home. Everything feels wrong.]

[springlocked]

Rude.

[He keeps on following, fully aware of the fact that he's invading her personal space but not really caring. She's the reason he's here, after all.]

Your fault I'm here, isn't it?

[springlocking]

No. You're the one who decided to leave the pizzeria.

[She's really starting to get annoyed now, which surprises even her. Annoyed - maybe that's an understatement. Revolted, disgusted, enraged...yes, that sounds better.]

So get away already.

[springlocked]

Oh, I wasn't going to stay there. Didn't mean to end up in your car, though.

[He shrugs.]

When life gives you lemons... or death, I guess.

[springlocking]

[The only thing standing between Afton and a punch to the face is the fact that Charlie is perfectly aware of how useless it'd be.]

So go somewhere else.

[It doesn't look like he can do much damage as he is, anyway.]