Found Arron

Sybil hit the wall with a sledge hammer, knocking in another large chunk of the rotting dry board. A dust cloud filled the whole room, cutting down visabilty. Demolition was a messy job, Sybil thought as she wiped some grime from her forehead where it collected with the sweat.

A knocking came from outside and the door behind her opened to admit a tall man. “Captain, the new shipment has arrived. We’ve got it coming down.” Brandr Waterman said as he came in, holding a handkerchief over his mouth and nose.

Sybil put the hammer down and leaned against it. As most of the dust settled she pulled the dust mask down off her face. “Good, good. Let me know once you get it into the old ware shop and I’ll come take a look.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Brandr replied.

She gestured to the wall in a relaxed, inviting manner, “Care to join me in my little remodeling project?”

“You seem to have everything under control, Captain. I should get back to supervise the transportation, Ma’am.” He said, pointed to the door behind him.

Sybil laughed and pulled the mask back on. “Suit yourself, Mr. Seal.”

Brandr left the room and Sybil turned back to her work. She was dead set on remodeling this room to serve as a bedroom and this wall had to go. She swung the hammer a few more times, knocking the wall away bit by bit.

There was some brick behind the layer of dry wall. That was a surprise, Sybil looked over her shoulder and checked the blueprints that were propped up on the desk.

It looked like there was a bit of room on the other side of this wall before the exterior one. “I wonder what’s hidden behind here”

Crash! Bang! Smash! The brick wall fell to her blows. Sybil reached for a flashlight and shone it into the hole she made.

A grinning face smiled back at her, one she’d thought she’d never see again.

“Arron?!” She screamed in a excited

The mummified corpse smiled, his dried, thin lips drawn back as far as his sunken checks and hollowed eye sockets, revealing the ghastly skeleton grin. She pulled more of the bricks away and laughed. “Arron, it is you!”

His teeth were unmistakably those of her dear old friend, Arron the wanna be lord of smuggling, who build this warehouse for smuggling goods back in the 20s.

Sybil chuckled and worked to uncover the rest of her old friend. As she pulled the rest of the wall away, the story of why he was here became clear. He’d been buried here, and judging by the blood soaked blunt claw marks all over the brinks, he was alive when it’d happened. “Arron my dear old friend, we both always knew this was how you’d go out. Betrayed by your men and left in a dark hole to die screaming and clawing like a wild beast.”

Sybil pushed the bricks aside and reached in to pull her friend out. His arm came loose and clattered to the ground the moment she touched him.

“Whoops, sorry ‘bout that,” she said with a shrug. Maybe she’d just remodel around the body, after all, she needed to get rid of the rest of the wall anyways while she was at it.

The rest of the day passed quickly with the body of Arron keeping her company, time always seemed to fly by when the two of them were together. Sybil cleared the wall away, swept up the rubble, and even got the basic furniture moved in. She’d decorated around Arron so he was comfortable.

Arron always loved being included in every conversation so she arranged the chairs so that he wouldn’t feel left out.

At about dinner time Brandr knocked on the door once more. Sybil tossed a blanket over Arron when her first mate came in to report back, saying the shipment was secured in the warehouse and ready for. She wasn’t done decorating yet, and Arron never liked being walked in on. He’d like to wait on being introduced until after he was presentable.

Sybil followed Brandr out, stopping in to the old fire department’s showers first to wash off all the grime. When she was clean and dressed in fresh, causally professional version of the pirate captain clothes, she rejoined Brandr for the walk down stairs to the smuggling hold of the warehouse.

Sybil looked around the underground warehouse. Safes? Ooh, she called somebody over to open it. She ran her hand over the tumbler. “Arron never did get to show me around here. I escaped to Norway before he had the chance.”

“Would you like us to open the safe, Ma’am?” Brandr asked. Sybil gave a short nod of her head. “Yes. I’d like to see what he left behind.”

Brandr called some of the other crew over and gave instructions to get the safe opened.

She notices the zombie guinea pig. It took a moment for her to recognize what it was. Beyond all dust and slime and tattered, mussed fur, it was Arron’s pet guinea pig Snuffles! Sybil knelt down next to the scrap of century old rotten flesh and held her hand out. The piggy wiggled and squeaked out a greeting. Sybil dropped her handkerchief over the piggy and scooped up as much as she could, cradling the pile of bones, tendons, and rotten fur in her arms. Snuffles seemed ecstatic to have a familiar person back again.

“It’s open!” The shouts of the locksmith made Captain Sybil Howell turn back to the safe where the sallow woman was working. “Move aside, let me open it” She ordered, pushing her way through the small excited crowd. In the crook of her arm perched Snuffles, the zombie guinea pig.

“Lets see what your daddy left behind, shall we?” She cooed to the little creature. It wiggled it’s nose in an excited squeak, a motion that made a portion of it’s face fall off. The skin slipped from behind where the ear use to go, sliding right off the bone.

Sybil put it’s face back on with a gentle, reassuring pat. “I think so too, Snuffles.”

She turned her attention back to the safe. It was large and one of the newer models from it’s time period of the late 20s. Arron always loved the new technology, where ever he could get it.

Sybil used her free hand to swing the safe door open. Inside was full to the brim with important papers of monitory value, checks and real. It’d make a worthy profit when sold to the right collectors.

But what Sybil saw tucked away besides them made every cent nothing more than a dust bunny.

There, tucked besides the checks and gold bars, lay a small wooden box, one that might be used for cigars. Sybil felt her ancient heart start to race. It wasn’t just any box, though to any other viewer it would appear so.

She snatched it out of the safe and held it in front of her.

The sides were intricately engraved with wood burnings of song birds and tiny skeleton rats parading around miniature scenes, locations of his favorite and valuable stashes of wealth and knowledge. Arron always was fond of cryptic and hidden maps.

But what interested Sybil the most was the fact that this box wasn’t on his person when he died. Instead, someone had taken the time to remove it from the breast pocket over his heart and lock it away in this safe.

Had he done it? Sybil wondered, tucking the box away next to her heart. Had Arron finally found a way to beat death? The fact that Snuffles was still running around after nearly a century, and the box had been taken away from him obviously meant something.

“You there, the treasurer… go take stock of everything in the safe.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Sybil turned to Brandr, “I’m retiring to my room now and am not to be disturbed,” she said. Brandr nodded. “What do you want me to do with the hippogriff?”

“Put it in the stables’ largest cage with it’s wings belted and beak muzzled. We’ve already got a dozen buyers for it and I don’t care for noise about mistreatment of the product.”

“And food for it?”

“Get whoever does research to find out what you should feed it, and do it quickly. We’re running a business, not rescue shelter.”

Brandr went off to do as he was told and Sybil hurried, nearly flew, back to her room.

She closed the door and locked it behind her.

All alone with Arron’s decomposed and mummified corpse, and his century old guinea pig.

“Okay now, Snuffles. Let’s see what Arron left in this box that was so important.” Sybil said as she gingerly placed the rotten piggy on the sofa. More fur and flecks of skin fell off onto the upholstery but Sybil didn’t care right now.

Sitting down besides the critter on the couch, and facing Arron, she pulled out the small box from next to her heart. A closer inspection showed a small pressure latch that released with a little help from a bobby pin found in her dark brown hair.

There was a click and the box sprung open.

Inside was a small golden watch fob, something Arron might find a neat little fashion object.

Sybil remembered that these particular watch fobs were made custom as a sort of ID for his clan. This one was different than she remembered though, with a dark crystal embedded in it as if by second thought. Inside the box was also a small yet unremarkable pocket watch and chain.

A old paper was folded underneath them. Sybil dumped the box out onto her palm and picked the paper up. It was fragile and almost crumbled at her touch, but held itself together.

In Arron’s funny handwriting read:

*To whom it might concern, though I bet it’s you, Ms. Captain Sybil Howell. You know I’d only trust this letter to those who I trust. I have succeeded. My studies in the dark arts have come to profit, and I brought my dear little Snuffles back from the dead. Some rival gang had shot my little piggy during a raid. Never before had I worked so hard for something as I did for the secret to revival. After Ms. Sybil , I was already fairly knowledgable of the works. And now, after I have proven myself to have power over death itself, I seek a means of immortality. Should death take me, I shall only need to be close to this watch fob in which I imbued my soul into.

If you’re reading this note, it means my men have taken this box away from my possession. I’m probably buried somewhere, or sealed up behind a brick wall. They always had a preference to such a death. If you could do me the favor of returning this box to it’s proper owner (me), I’d be most grateful. –Arron Porter.*

Sybil looked up at Arron’s hollow sockets in surprise. “You finally did it, hmm?” She said to the dusty pile of skin and bones. Snuffles chattered next to her.

Sybil clenched the watch fob in her fist. How great it would be to really talk to her old friend again. She pushed herself up from the couch and walked over to Arron’s body.

“I’ll return this,” she said, crouching next to him. He stared up with empty sockets and grin. Sybil reached into his coat jacket and tucked the watch fob into his breast pocket. She straightened his coat lapels and brushed a little dust off his shoulder.

A strange creaking sound came from his joints and his bones trembled with a slight glow tainting them. She watched hopefully, almost holding her breath.

Sybil watched as the stiff body flex and slumped forwards. His skull falling into his lap.

… Nothing.

Sybil sighed in disappointment. “You messed up, didn’t you? You dummy.”

Nothing more happened for a few minutes.

Sybil sighed in disappointment. “You messed up, didn’t you? You dummy.”

She stood up and hit the dust off her knees. Snuffles chattered from over on the sofa where it’s poor face had fallen off… again.

Having moved to the sofa to wait some time ago, Sybil looked at the digital clock by her bed and sighed. It was getting late, and Arron wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. She decided to call it a night.

Scooping most of Snuffles up, she made a nice little nest for the piggy in one of the drawers next to her bed. She made sure Snuffles’ face was in back in place and used a safety pin to secure it… the piggy probably couldn’t feel anything. Having situated the guinea pig she put the watch and chain on the top of the dresser and got ready for bed, changing into her comfiest pajamas, and crawled under the sheets.

Sometime later into the Sybil rolled over like she was asleep and felt for the curved blade under her pillow. Someone had gotten into her room. Without letting the intruder. She listened. The intruder sounded like it was searching for something, and extremely clumsy too.

“WHOA!! Easy there, just looking for my head.”

“Wha?”

“Ms. Sybil? Is that you? Oh good, maybe you can help me. I can’t find my head.”

“Arron? Wha…”

“My head! It rolled away or something when I stood up. I was disoriented after being dead for a while, okay? I think my one of my arms is missing too.” Arron grumbled from some unknown part of the room. “Get a light or something, it’s too dark to tell where I am.”

Sybil walked over to the light switch and switched the light on. There, in the middle of the room, stood Arron’s thin, skeleton form, head and arm unattached.

“Ah! I can see you, Sybil! My head’s under something to your left.”

Sybil turned around to look under the dresser on her left.

“Nope, oops, sorry I meant your other left,” Arron corrected himself. Sybil spun around and looked under the sofa.

“Hey there!” Arron’s grinning skull . His body walked over to Sybil and tapped her shoulder. It felt creepy and stiff but light, almost hollow. “Mind putting me back together?” Arron asked.