annotated floorplan - simple floorplan

Neon braced his feet on the nearest chair and leaned back, slumping downwards. Absently, he reached up to check that Banana was still secure, sleeping off his own fruity meal.

This was going to be a long night, but at least Thalia’s sleep mixture meant it was effectively over for Lennox. The whole household used it when wrestling with insomnia, and it was safe and gentle, but for it to work at all, one had to be trying to relax, not up and active, and certainly not emotionally agitated. As long as nothing disturbed him, the investigator could simply sleep from now until sunrise.

No more fear and rage hammering painfully at Neon’s mind.

Neon’s job, now he’d gotten this far, was to make sure that nothing disturbed him.

The door eased quietly open, and Neon opened his eyes.

Sally oozed through the narrow crack and across the floor, soundless, and pulled herself up onto a chair next to him.

“Need anything?” she whispered.

Neon shrugged. “The book from by my bed?” he murmured back. “Mostly fine for now. Maybe cookies and a drink later. Banana’s stuffed, he’s fine, but his water bowl from the kitchen wouldn’t hurt eventually.”

She nodded. “You okay?”

“I hate lying and manipulating him.”

“I know. But Wanda said he was so scared...”

“Yes. I overheard what he tried recording. It was all lots of types of fear of the unknown and of being helpless. He’s not a bad person, just out of his depth. We go so counter to everything he’s sure of that it’s actually harder on him than just not knowing.”

“That’s what Fifi said, too. She hates doing the stone thing even on people who maybe deserve it, and this one doesn’t. I’ll go so we don’t wake him, but I’ll bring your book. I hope he can just rest.”

Neon nodded. “Thanks.”

Sally gooed her way back out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

Neon settled back in. His family would make certain he had anything he needed to make this vigil easier and they’d keep this part of the house quiet. Just until sunrise, then it would be over. With any luck, it would be years before they next had a guest trapped by fear or fury.

* * *

The door opened, as it had several times that night, but Neon had a perfect view of the clock on the wall above the book he was reading and had been expecting it. Not one of the library’s special volumes, of course, since he could hardly watch over their sleeping guest if that deeply engrossed, but it was a reasonably interesting paperback. The fantasy and sci-fi he recalled from the nineties and before had broadened and exploded into mad diversity with the advent of indie publishing, and he loved it, even if it could be tricky to acquire them from here. Having others in the house who enjoyed the same sort of thing helped.

“Hey, Jake,” he said quietly. “Time to go?”

Jake nodded. “Sunrise in a few minutes.”

Neon got up and stretched, and left the book there. Banana was dozing in his water bowl, wrapped around the stick that kept his breathing tube out of the water, so Neon didn’t disturb him. Everything would still be here, except Lennox and his wagon of belongings.

Jake gathered Lennox up with great care, and Neon caught hold of the handle of the wagon.

They left him in the great hall, lying on the sofa in front of the fireplace, with the wagon placed where he’d see it as soon as he opened his eyes. Amerie left her own vigil by the front door and came to help them arrange him comfortably without jostling him.

But, just in case Thalia’s sleepy mixture wore off too early, all three settled down together on a sofa a short distance away so they could keep watch until the sun peeked over the horizon and sent Lennox home.

* * *

Lennox groaned and opened his eyes. What was he lying on? Why did the air smell of dust?

In the brightening twilight, he could see his canvas wagon and the gear tucked into it. The LEDs at the corners continued their slow fade in and out.

The Mallory house. He was supposed to be investigating it for his Hallowe’en special release. He remembered driving here, and was sure he recalled starting to set up cameras... but he could see them in the wagon, packed his own familiar way, so was he just creating a memory about a familiar task? He must be. There was nothing after that.

He hadn’t been tired. He knew how to prepare and his sleep schedule was typically fairly nocturnal anyway.

He’d never blacked out before. Had he hit his head? Was there gas of some kind in the house that had knocked him out? Was there something wrong with him?

He really should drop by the closest hospital with an emergency department and ask them to check him out, just to make certain. Probably he was safe to drive that far, but he should get up and walk around a bit and eat and drink something before making that call.

He was pretty sure his patrons and subscribers would, for the most part, be tolerant of a health issue sabotaging his plans, and accept a substitute later. Soon, but later. And not here, just in case the house itself was a factor. What had he been thinking, making plans before getting firm permission and verification of the risks of the site?

Maybe he should try to find a partner to do these investigations with. He liked the independence, but having someone else around might be safer. Well, that was something to consider later.

Right now, just in case there was something wrong with the air, he dragged himself to his feet and caught hold of the wagon handle. He could have that snack out at his truck rather than in here. This house was oppressive and had a sinister air to it that he refused to contemplate. He just wanted to get out of here and never come back.