“If I have learned anything over this last year it’s that you have to live your own life too so that if something we hoped for doesn’t work out, you still have two legs to stand on, you still have your own path.”
Into the Light (Duskwood) // Chapter 3 - Curiosity killed the cat.
Read chapter one || chapter two Also on Wattpad || Ao3
3,2k words
...........................
Flames.
As she gazed out into the dense, endless forest, her eyes were met with a blaze of bright orange-red flames and thick smoke. It was all she could see.
She really tried to reach them. She ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. The acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils, making her sick, making it difficult to even see where she was going. But she couldn't give up, stumbling over the protruding roots of huge trees hanging over her head. She knew that she had to get there before it was too late.
Yet... no matter how long she ran, it seemed that the flames were always just out of her reach. It didn't matter which way she turned or how hard she tried. She could never quite make it to her destination. She could never fight the flames, run into them. But each time she refused to give up. She would keep trying, keep running, until she had done everything she could to save what was left.
This time was no exception. Just when she thought she saw a glimmer of hope, just when she thought she had somehow managed to get there, just when her fingers brushed the entrance to the mine, the landscape shifted. The smoke and heat vanished, and she found herself right back where she started.
She woke up abruptly, cursing loudly and almost sobbing as she sat on the bed, brushing her wet hair from her forehead.
It was always the same.
Always the same dream that had been haunting her since that fateful day.
But suddenly, she held her breath and froze, staring blankly as she tried to recall a particular detail that had flashed in the corner of her eye just before waking up, something different than before. Something that wasn't there. A shadow.
A dark figure hiding just behind the trees, no matter where she went, it was there. Always in the corner of her eye.
And its eyes... Its eyes looking straight at her.
.....................
Duskwood, though not the most welcoming town Martin had ever lived in, had its own unique charm, especially in the early mornings. During this time of year, the sun would just be rising, casting youthful rays on his face, while the morning air still retained its refreshing chill. The wind howled a sweet melody in his ears as he walked through the otherwise deserted streets, feeling the peace and stillness of the town as it slowly began to awaken to another day.
Trees lined the streets, their branches casting delicate shadows onto the pavement below. The young foliage whispered in the breeze, as if sharing secrets with the passersby. It was as if the trees were alive, curious creatures that leaned in close to eavesdrop on the conversations of the people of Duskwood.
He had no intention of sharing his secrets with anyone, though.
After a night of poor sleep, all he wanted was a quiet day at work with as few people as possible. The idea of spending the whole day at work with indecisive older readers who only wanted him to advise them on which romance novel was better felt like an absolute nightmare. He couldn't care less about that...
He made his way towards the library's old, large, wooden door, holding a travel mug filled with tea in one hand and reaching for a set of keys in his pocket with the other.
"Good morning!" before he managed to insert the key into the lock, a cheery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, causing him to jump and lose his grip on his tea. As he spun around quickly, his mug slipped from his hands and fell to the ground, spilling its contents over his shoes and trouser legs.
"Oh, shit!" he hissed in displeasure, not sure if he was more bothered by his wet shoes, the hot drink on his legs, the loss of his cardamom black tea, or Lucienne's very sudden appearance.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry! I didn't want to startle you!" bending down to pick up his empty mug, she muttered quickly, trying to hide the smile that lurked on her face, "And I'm afraid your tea is ruin–"
"What exactly are you doing here at this hour?" Martin snatched his broken mug from her hands, "The library is open from nine. It's not even eight o'clock now."
"Yes, I just noticed it a minute ago," she said sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I was actually on my way to grab coffee when I saw you. Then silly me decided to say 'good morning' to you... the worst idea I've ever had, apparently."
Martin scoffed, wanting to finally unlock the door and hide in his library, "Enjoy your coffee, then. Good day to you."
"Do you always come to work so early?" she asked innocently, ignoring his attempt to chase her away.
"Aren't you a curious little kitten?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm.
It was more than just a hint, though.
Lucienne chuckled, "Do you always answer a question with another question?"
"It depends. Do I look like someone who likes simple answers?"
She stood there, staring at him intently, trying to read his expression. She studied his eyes, searching for any hint of emotion, any clue to what he might be thinking. She looked him up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance, from the way his hair was styled to the cut of his dark jacket. After a few moments, she let out a loud, hearty laugh, as if something had suddenly struck her as amusing.
It threw him off guard.
Again.
"You don't even wonder why I asked you that question?"
"Which one?" Martin grunted impatiently as he put the key into the lock. He really yearned to escape the world outside and immerse himself in the peace and quiet of the library where he could finally focus on his work without any distractions.
"That one about you coming to work early..." Lucy rolled her eyes, giving up at last, "So, do you?"
"I do," he turned to her, keeping his hand on the doorknob but not opening the door just yet, "I like having some peace and quiet before dealing with people. Now, if you excuse m--"
"Really?" So... what if I invited you for coffee before work? Or tea, in your case... Before you bury yourself with your books? I owe you one, it seems..." she crossed her arms behind her back and rocked on her feet, looking at him with almost childlike curiosity, nodding at his broken mug.
He meaningfully glanced at his shoes, "I... regret to inform you that I sadly must decline your generous offer. I don't feel like going to a cafe like this."
Lucy smiled at him sympathetically, "Come on, don't be like that... your shoes are practically dry already! And just so you know, I won't take no for an answer."
Martin looked at her, trying to gauge the level of her determination. He was not going to give up easily, that much was evident. After a moment of silence, he clicked his lips, deciding that agreeint with her would be much easier than trying to convince her to go away, "Fine. Lead the way, dear Miss Gale."
"Oh..." she grinned, "Okay! So here's my first question–"
"I'm sorry, first question? How many mo–"
She continued, not paying attention to his comment, "--Which way is the cafe? I'm not from Duskwood, and not everything is marked on Google Maps..."
"It's two streets from here to the left," Martin said, putting his keys into his pocket, then tossing his mug into the trash can, "Do you also need me to show you which way is left?"
"Thank you," Lucienne smiled broadly, "And no, that much I can handle. Onwards, Mr. Roth!"
She exclaimed pompously, raising her hand up and jumping, she moved ahead. Martin didn't move, though, tilting his head as if he were looking at a clumsy, tiny, clueless little animal. Lucienne stopped after a few steps and looked behind her in slight embarrassment as she muttered, "It's the other way around, right...?"
"Maybe you should just... follow me," the librarian suggested with a smirk, "We only have an hour, after all."
..................
"So, Lucy?" Martin sipped his tea from an elegant cup and flinched. It was a horrible blend, "I take it you didn't just invite me here for... Well, let's call it tea, right?"
Lucy smiled, "No, of course not. I actually have something important to discuss with you."
Martin raised an eyebrow, "Really? What could be so important that you felt the need to subject me to this awful tea?"
"Well..." she giggled, not at all embarrassed, smiling as she sipped on her caramel ice cream latte, "I wanted to ask you a couple of things, actually."
Martin let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice tinged with a note of frustration, "About the books I gave you? Is something not clear to you?"
"No, not really..." she looked down, spooning lazily between whipped cream and coffee, "I wanted to ask about a few other things about Duskwood. I'm afraid it has nothing to do with books, though."
The Librarian hummed, frowning as he noticed a hint of embarrassment in her that he had definitely not seen before, "Oh?"
"I wanted to ask you about the woods... and about that Dare House. I wanted to know if–"
Martin chuckled in slight disbelief, "The Dare House, really? Wait, hold on... explain something to me first. From what I've heard, you made friends with a bunch of people from here... why not ask someone you know a little better? I am... not the best person to interact with."
Lucy sighed as she looked around, her smile fading from her face. Her amber eyes stared into nothingness for a moment before she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Then, she gave him one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen her wear, "Aren't you the curious one now? Curiosity killed the cat, mind you!"
"And the satisfaction brought it back..." he concluded, "So?"
She gazed into his dark eyes, pondering her response as she shifted her gaze between them. After a moment, she let out a deep sigh, shoving a large spoonful of whipped cream into her mouth, and muttered discontentedly, "I don't think they're very interested in what I'm doing..."
"Meaning? Do they even know that you're in town?"
"They do..." she answered, a little embarrassed. The librarian watched, quite astounded, as the woman in front of him nodded and swallowed two more large spoonfuls of whipped cream from her coffee, "I didn't tell them what I was doing here... well, not entirely," she said with her mouth full, choking a bit on her vanilla ice-cream, "They are still worried about Richy... you know who he is, right? You have to, everybody does..."
"I do," Martin watched with with mild fascination as Lucienne devoured her coffee. Or rather, her coffee dessert? This particular... drink couldn't be simply called coffee, "But I still don't quite understand..."
As she looked at him once again, her eyes were filled with a mix of uncertainty and shyness, as if she was unsure of what to do next. Her fair complexion began to show a subtle blush that gradually spread across her cheeks, giving away her nervousness. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, as if she really wanted to walk away from answering the question. Martin, on the other hand, sat there calmly with a satisfied smile, knowing exactly what this meant and how convenient this was for him. He had seen this scenario play out before, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before she would reveal what he wanted to hear.
"I want to know more before I tell them anything... Everyone's worried about real people, and I'm walking around town an–" pausing, she bit her lip. She had shared too much and she evidently wasn't happy about it. Her gaze fixed on the tabletop as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. Martin, on the other hand, saw this as the perfect opportunity to delve deeper into the conversation she stopped being comfortable with.
How perfect.
He leaned in, his eyes locked on hers, eager to hear more of what she had to say.
"Come on," he urged softly, "Finish your thought... Is that possible that you're, oh I don't know... embarrassed about it?"
"I'm not embarrassed," Lucienne muttered unconvinced.
"No?" Martin couldn't help but chuckle, "So why are you talking to me, just a mere, dusty, ordinary librarian, instead of your friends? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're worried about what they'll think of this... very fascinating idea of yours?"
"You're not–" she stopped mid-sentence again and sighed in frustration as she gulped down another scoop of her half melted by coffee ice cream, "I am not worried about that! They have a lot on their minds after... after all that happened! And I just thought that because of our bet, you'd want to help me... that's all!
"Ah, right. Our fabulous bet..." Martin smiled, remembering another of her silly ideas, "You're right, it is the only reason I'm even talking to you right now."
Martin's words had tumbled out of his mouth without thought, a careless jibe that he had intended to be a joke. But as he saw the sudden sadness and disappointment in Lucienne's eyes, he realized he went a little overboard. He had always prided himself on being quick-witted and sharp-tongued, but in that moment the air between them was heavy with sudden, unspoken tension.
"I'm s-- please, excuse me," he said, the words coming out in a rush, "That's not exactly what I m-meant."
Lucy continued to look at him, her expression now more unreadable than before. But then, as she observed the librarian's sheepishness, her smirk crept onto her lips and her amber eyes sparkled playfully, "You don't have to be sorry. Now I'll do anything to prove my point. Treat it as a warning."
He snorted in disbelief, then found himself laughing louder than intended, completely forgetting that he hadn't wanted to come here at all, and had a plan to play deadly sullen during their meeting.
"Oh?" Lucienne chuckled as well, "The grumpy librarian can laugh? I think I'm going to die of shock!"
"I beg your pardon?" he wanted to sound serious and firm, but he didn't quite succeed, "I'm not grumpy. I just like to do things a certain way and I don't enjoy deviating from the norm."
Lucy nodded her head approvingly, "That actually explains a lot about you. So... dare I come back to the subject? Is there anything you can tell me about Dare House?"
Martin paused for a moment, humming thoughtfully as he narrowed his eyes, thinking. He was well aware that if he didn't offer any help, she would likely turn to the Darkness for assistance soon enough. However, if he agreed to help her, he knew that it would be difficult to shake her off once she was done with whatever she needed him for. It was a tricky situation, the kind that he couldn't easily resolve without some careful thought and planning... but he had no time for that.
A lose-lose, one might say.
"Alright. What do you want to know about it? It's near the motel, by the way. There's a nice-ish path leading to it."
"I know..." she mumbled, "I was wondering... Did you also have your dare there? Does everyone in Duskwood go to that house?"
The librarian flinched, not expecting such a question. It felt uncomfortably personal, way too much so for his liking.
"Yes. Every boy in Duskwood ends up going there, and I was no exception. Some girls go too, although no one puts pressure on it. It's a bit... odd, if you ask me."
"But... How exactly was your dare? Did everything go well? Were you scared? Did you... feel anything?" Lucy persisted, watching him with such curiosity that he could barely maintain eye contact with her.
"I..." Martin started, but his voice trailed off as he shook his head, lost in thought.
Memories of that day suddenly flooded his mind like a tsunami, and he wasn't happy about it. He could still feel the panic that had gripped him as he pounded helplessly on the door, wooden splinters breaking the skin. The darkness that surrounded him had been absolutely suffocating, as black as the darkest of nights, "It was... It went o-okay. Nothing special, really," he finally managed to say, but then he frowned, worrying that the tremble in his voice had betrayed his lie.
Lucy fell silent, studying him for a long moment. The weight of her gaze made Martin feel uneasy, as if she could see right through him. He shifted in his seat, suddenly very self-conscious.
"I see," she finally said, her voice low and measured, "Thank you for sharing that with me."
Martin wasn't sure if he detected a hint of sympathy in her tone. After all, he hadn't told her anything of importance. But it must have been his pathetic reaction that gave away more than he intended.
"Anything else?" the librarian cleared his throat, trying to chase his thoughts away, "Can I go back to work?"
"I want to go there," she said quickly, grabbing his wrist as he tried to get up from the table, "Would you go with me? You know these places much better than I do. And, you know... I barely made it to the coffee shop today. I might not have made it here without your help!"
Lucy chuckled as Martin yanked his hand from her gentle grip. She was too focused on persuading him to go with her to notice how he tensed up, feeling an unpleasant tingle where her skin touched his.
"You don't have to flatter me. That won't help you convince me," he snapped quickly, running his fingers through his hair to calm himself down.
"Please, Marty," she placed her palms on the table and looked at him with desperation, "If we don't find anything interesting there, you can laugh straight in my face. One step closer to winning your bet!"
The librarian adjusted his jacket, brushed invisible dust from his trousers, then looked at the brown-eyed woman who was grinning at him, almost lying on the table.
"Fine. Under one, very important condition," he stated, feeling defeated somehow, "That you never call me Marty ever again. I hate it almost as much as I hate that... absolutely incredibly poor imitation tea you made me drink."
"Then we have a deal, Mr. Roth!" Lucy squealed happily, saluting her new Duskwood guide, then smiling apologetically, "Was the tea really so bad...?"
Martin's expression soured as he grimaced in disgust. "Worst shit I've ever drank," he hissed under his breath. "It's as if someone was playing a sick joke on me. I swear to the Lord below, I have no idea how anyone could have come up with calling this swill tea. It is an insult to the name of this brew and should be unquestioningly outlawed. The person who created this abomination should be punished severely. A sentence to at least ten years in prison for desecrating the name of tea seems enough to you? Thankfully it's your treat... yet I still think they should pay me to have lived through this at all! Honestly, what a cruel farce..."
Lucienne blinked a couple of times before bursting out laughing, and Martin had absolutely no idea why.
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
dededos
