Kane Owen (sellingsouls) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2021-02-01 14:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | #june 2018, elodie, elodie x kane, kane |
Who: Kane and Elodie
Where: Kane's car
When: Laaaate, wee hours of Sunday 6/3
Status: complete
Elodie was… wasted. But not as much as some of the people she had witnessed at Jules’s party, but enough that she knew better than to walk home. She tried to find Amelia, but the faces all started blending in together and frankly, Elodie wouldn’t really tell who was who by the time she wandered down the stairs and out the front door. They all looked the same. Did Jasper even know who he was fucking when he was fucking her? Because even Jules looked like eighty of her friends.
Since Amelia was MIA, Elodie pulled out her phone and managed to get into the ride share app to schedule a ride. She was smoking a joint she’d stolen from the discarded jeans pocket of one of the dumbfuck boys jumping off the deck roof into the pool, but she could probably finish it before anyone came up to Overlook to pick her up.
Right now she was just picturing Jasper’s bed in the basement and how comfortable that would be tonight. He would probably stay with Jules anyway, so it wasn’t like she was kicking his ass out of his own bed. And Mr. Lucas would be home, maybe. What time did the bar close? Whatever. Maybe she could sweet talk him into making her food. Then she could watch him cook and that was always hot.
Swaying along to the music in her head, Elodie waited for her ride. She had a lot of photos in her phone. Photos and some videos she’d recorded. Some she would end up deleting, but others could be fun to keep for a while. After a few minutes, Elodie laid down on the lawn, staring up at the sky, her joint between her lips. She could hear splashing out back. Laughter. Some shrieking and chatter. The cops might come around soon and Elodie definitely wanted to be gone by then. Releasing smoke into the sky above her, Elodie opened up her phone to see her driver was close by. And sure enough, there were headlights coming down the street. Groaning, Elodie got to her feet and went to wait by the curb, leaning against a parked car. Impulsively, she checked the door and found it unlocked. Inside was a brand new pack of cigarettes and a blue beanie cap. She took both, tugging the beanie hat on her head and slipping the cigarettes into her back pocket. Then she stepped into the street until the SUV stopped.
Kane didn’t really need to make money any other way than his main source of income, but he got restless at night sometimes -- during the day too, if he was being honest -- and driving around was soothing to him. He could crank his music up in between rides, he could keep an eye out for any activity in town that he thought needed his attention ... or he could just park and nip from his flask while he watched the night for a while. He never got too many requests for rides in such a small town, but Kane was fine with that.
... except on the night of the high school graduation, that was. The party in Overlook wasn’t the only one going on that night, and Kane had already hauled more than a few drunk teenagers home. Kane considered it a small miracle that nobody had puked in his SUV yet. He hoped that would remain true as he got another ping, this one from the rich neighborhood, and he made a U-turn in the road to head up to the cliffs. The house was easy to find, still lit up and surrounded by cars, and Kane slowed down further as he thought he spotted his fare. He pulled up in front of the girl and stopped, his passenger window already rolled down. “Elodie?” he asked, squinting at her a bit.
Elodie walked over to the passenger side, peering in at the guy who knew her name. "Driver guy?" she asked, grinning around the joint still between her lips. What a boring ass job it had to be, driving around Point Pleasant, waiting for someone to need a ride when almost everything was within walking distance of everything else. Sort of. Elodie did a lot of walking these days, but her knees felt rubbery and she sure as hell knew what could be hiding in the trees and dark corners of this town, so it would have been stupid, even for her, to try and walk back to Jasper's house. "You want me to sit in the back?"
Kane only knew it from the app, and he’d found it was good practice to double-check when he picked somebody up that they were who they were supposed to be. He eyed her for a beat, hoping the joint in her mouth meant she wasn’t completely fucked up drunk. Her words were coherent, at least. “That depends,” he answered. “You feel like you might puke? Can’t have you fuckin’ up my dashboard.” Kane usually preferred his fares in the back, but they weren’t all cute girls, and sometimes being in back made people more car sick. He should have thought to pack some plastic bags or something, but he hadn’t known about graduation, so he hadn’t anticipated this much partying tonight.
Elodie's brow rose and she took the joint from her lips. "I haven't puked from alcohol since I was twelve. You don't have to worry about your dashboard, unless I get the urge to carve my name into it, but I forgot my switchblade at home. Front or back?" She honestly didn't care where she sat, but sometimes it was more fun to sit in the front so she could look around and fiddle with things. In the back though, she could stretch out and snooze or stretch her legs out. He was driving her home, so Elodie supposed he could decide. She didn't want to piss him off and have him drive off before she could even get the door open, after all.
Ah, so she was a Tough Girl, Kane thought with some amusement. “Lucky for both of us, then,” he said, giving a smile that wasn’t terribly pleasant. He almost said he would cut off a piece of her face if she took a switchblade to his dashboard, but Kane managed to resist. He probably shouldn’t make a habit out of threatening teenagers, especially ones who thought they were edgy. “Front, it’s unlocked.” Kane kind of didn’t trust her in the back now. He sat up straighter and tapped at his phone screen where it was held by the mount stuck to the windshield glass. Even in a small town with not much activity, if he wanted to get paid he had to do the app bullshit. Naturally he knew the neighborhood she was heading to, since he knew all the neighborhoods now.
Tugging open the door, Elodie climbed into the passenger seat, taking one more pull from the joint before tossing it into Jules's yard. She entertained a brief thought for Amelia and hoped Jasper's sister got home okay, if she wasn't already there. Elodie made a quick look around the car. It was neat with no noticeable weapons, so she supposed she would get "home" without being maimed tonight. "Do you make detours?" she asked, digging into her pocket for a couple of crumpled bills that she'd taken from Ms. Harris's purse earlier that week. "I'm starving and want a cheeseburger or something. You get paid extra for that, right?" If not, she supposed she could just walk home from the fast food place or whatever.
Kane almost protested the girl tossing the joint, but he had plenty of his own back in his apartment and he didn’t think she would share anyway. “Moxie’s ain’t too far out of the way, I got you,” he said amiably as he pulled away from the curb. He didn’t mind making a detour, unless this girl turned out to be a pain in the ass on the way. Then he could just kick her out. ... though kicking an intoxicated person out onto the streets of Point Pleasant this late at night was dangerous, so he would probably just bitch about it instead. Kane tossed one more glance back at the party house -- were those kids fucking on the grass? Christ. “Crazy party, huh? Did you graduate today?” he asked as they headed off.
Yay! She was getting a cheeseburger. She was pretty sure they didn't cost more than three dollars, so she ought to be fine. Elodie shoved the bills back into her coat. His car was pretty cool. Much better than the one Amelia drove around in. If she ever got her own car one day, she'd want one like this so she could sleep in it too. And hide things. His question prompted Elodie to snort loudly. "Yeah, no. Not me. I mean, I probably would have but see, I was held against my will in a hell dimension for like... four months or whatever. So I missed out on the last quarter. The Board of Education doesn't accept Lovecraftian circumstances for truancy." Elodie tugged the brand new pack of cigarettes she'd taken from the car back at Jules's house and unwrapped it quickly. "I think everyone was on meth back there. Or Viagra. You probably don't have to use that, huh? Though maybe you do. I don't know how old you are." She flipped open the cigarette pack. "Do you have a lighter?"
That was a mouthful, wasn’t it? Kane’s brows inched up higher as the girl talked, vaguely impressed that she knew what ‘Lovecraftian’ meant -- did kids even read anymore? Especially Lovecraft? “Well they fuckin’ ought to, around here, sorry about your luck,” he muttered as he plucked up the lighter from the center console with two fingers and offered it out to her. He didn’t know if she was being literal or full of shit, but it piqued his curiosity. Not that he was about to start grilling her and hunting for lies. What she said about Viagra made him snort and shake his head. “Not that old, that’s for damn sure,” he said. “Sounds more like molly than meth, if everybody’s fuckin’.” It also sounded like a damn fun graduation party, but what did he know anymore? Kane didn’t think he’d been to an actual party since his days in the Corps.
Elodie took the lighter from Kane and lit the cigarette between her lips. "Or it's neither and it's some witchy voodoo shit." She wiggled her fingers to mimic something mysterious before setting his lighter back where he'd picked it up from. Everything felt so pleasantly fuzzy and relaxed. Her fingers were itching to touch stuff and she wondered if Mr. Lucas would let her touch his face a bit when she got home. Or maybe his tattoos. Those things were meant to be stroked a bit. "Parties around here usually have something fucked up going on. That's why I like to go." Exhaling some smoke towards the open window, Elodie slipped her free arm under her chest and studied Kane's profile thoughtfully. "You kind of look like a serial killer. You kill a lot of people?"
Witchy voodoo shit was also a possibility, and Kane gave a little snerk. Magic could definitely liven up a party. It made him kind of want to go back once he was done dropping this girl off and see what he could see, but that would probably be more headache than it was worth. He glanced over at her when she called him a serial killer, unfazed by what was presumably an insult. He knew he was an ugly cuss, and he probably did look like a serial killer to some. “I’ve killed a fair few,” he answered mildly. “I prefer killin’ monsters, though.” Kane didn’t make a habit of talking openly about what he did, for obvious reasons, but in this case he figured he was dealing with a bullshit artist, so he might as well join in, even if his own bullshit was true. “Lost track of that number a long time ago.” He paused and glanced over again. “What makes me look like a serial killer?”
Elodie continued to watch him, her brow arching when he said he had killed a few people. And then monsters? Wow, maybe she was super high. But then again, she had spent months somewhere Else with fog monsters, so it was likely he wasn't just fucking with her to humor her. If he was fucking with her, that was okay. A conversation about pretend murders was much more fun than talking about high school parties. "You can kill a lot of monsters here," Elodie said. "They're everywhere. Just don't kill me, 'cause I have plans and you'll never get paid for the ride." Rubbing at her eye, she felt some of her mascara wipe off against her fingers. "You just have the serial killer look. Your nose, and the scars on your face and your neck. Like, someone fought back. Or something, monster-wise. Probably more than once. You look grouchy too and I bet being a ride share driver gives you a lot of opportunity." She brought the cigarette back to her lips, wishing she had kept the weed. "I killed someone once. Or like, I guess I was there for it. It gets pretty gross."
Kane gave a deep chuckle. “I grew up here, I know all about ‘em,” he murmured. Kane was tempted to tell her that he could definitely get paid if he killed her, he would just take her stuff and approve his payment on her phone. And maybe send some texts to friends later on in the night to leave an after-ride trail, then chuck her shit in the ocean. It didn’t disturb him that he could think that way, he was who he was, and he was something of a serial killer, after all. “I dunno if ‘grouchy’ should be a defining characteristic,” he mused, not showing any reaction to Elodie’s statement that she’d killed someone too. Kane didn’t know or really care if that was true. “Serial killers know that a bad attitude puts people off, makes ‘em suspicious. So it’s the nice ones you gotta watch out for. Like Ted Bundy faking injuries to get women to help him out. Lull them into a false sense of security before you strike, otherwise they might fight back while you’re drivin’ to your secondary location, and that’s never good.” He paused and glanced over at her. “It does get gross though, people and monsters both. Who’d you kill? Or acted as an accessory to murder for?”
"Not all serial killers are like that. Some are straight up creepers. Ever hear of Robert Pickton? Richard Ramirez? Those weren't the charming neighbors next door." It didn't surprise her at all to hear this guy grew up here. There seemed to be more locals than newbies and that was fine with her. Hell, even her mom and grandma had grown up here. They died here too. Elodie figured she'd do the same eventually. "And maybe grouchy doesn't equal a defining characteristic, but you sure know enough about how to lull a victim into a false sense of security and why. So. Serial killer." For a moment she wanted to tell him about her mom, but that was the weed and alcohol talking. She didn't know this dude at all, even though he was probably definitely a serial killer. "Accessory, but I'd rather not say who it was. What's the last thing you killed?"
He felt a stab of irrational shame that he only recognized one of those names, and he did know that the Night Stalker had been a disgusting piece of shit, so Kane supposed she had a point. He wasn’t a serial killer of people, at least, but he honestly wouldn’t mind having that sort of reputation amongst the creatures of the night that he did kill on a regular basis. Not all of them were intelligent enough to communicate, but the ones that were ... he often wondered if word of him got around, if he was a scary story to the monsters. Kane thought again of his man-not-a-man white whale, Adrian Moretti, and doubted himself briefly. Was he a monster like Ramirez? He pushed the thought away and focused on the girl’s question, squinting one eye as he tried to remember. It had been quiet around Point Pleasant for several months now. The huge thing in the woods he and Bailey were after didn’t count because it wasn’t dead yet. “Uh ... it was some black eyed kids, few months back,” he said with a small nod. “Three of ‘em, if I remember right. Little bastards.”
Elodie had never heard of black eyed kids before. She had never seen any either. It made her wonder what else roamed around this stupid little town. Had it been nicer when she was blissfully unaware? It didn't scare her though and Elodie didn't know if that was because she was high and feeling good, or because she had been through some version of Hell already. Kids with black eyes were nothing compared to those monsters Over There. At least, that's what she assumed. Maybe the black eyed kids were demons or something. "How'd you kill them?" Elodie asked after a moment, still studying him as she smoked.
Kane half expected her to assume he meant real human kids and call him a crazy serial killer again, but the girl asked a much more interesting question instead. His gaze flickered over to her, then back to the road. “With an axe,” he said evenly. “An iron one, they’re sensitive to iron.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to share that detail, it just rolled off his tongue. He didn’t get to talk openly about this shit very often, and Bailey was full of judgement, so this was kind of refreshing, even if the girl thought he was bullshitting her. Kane picked up his own pack of cigarettes and shook one upward to tuck between his lips. “Then I reaped their souls and sold ‘em for about ten grand.”
"An axe. That's a good one." Elodie made a noise of approval in her throat. While some of her classmates were stuck on Harry Potter and Twilight crap, Elodie had spent her days in school Googling grisly true crime murders. The killers who used sharp objects or their hands had always fascinated her more than shooting deaths. Maybe this guy was bullshitting her, but if he was, he was pretty convincing. The mention of reaping and selling souls distracted her from the morbid images that were currently filling her mind. "Reaping?" Elodie arched a brow. That sounded like bullshit to her, but again, considering everything she had experienced since moving to Point Pleasant, she wasn't going to straight up call him a liar. "Like, the Grim Reaper? How'd you do that?"
His lips twitched a bit at the approval. If this girl had only ever been accessory to murder, he doubted she knew whether an axe actually was a good one or not. Maybe she was the serial killer, who knew. Kane felt no fear, of course, just amusement. This was definitely the most interesting conversation he’d had with a fare in ... ever, probably. “Trade secret, can’t tell ya,” Kane said, glancing over with a little smirk. The comparison to the Grim Reaper -- which was just an artistic device, as far as Kane knew, he didn’t think there’d been an original reaper or some father-of-all for his kind or some shit -- always tickled him for some reason. He found his lighter again and lit his smoke.
Elodie released a sharp breath of annoyance. "Fine. I'll just say you're a... serial reaper. Part serial killer, part grim reaper. Or you're a grim killer. No." She shook her head and took another drag off of her cigarette. There was always her imagination, she supposed. Maybe he was magic like some of the other people in town. "Serial reaper sounds cooler. You'll wear all black and skulk around Point Pleasant looking for souls to sell. Sounds like a fucking movie. If you make so much money, why're you a ride share driver? If I made ten grand off of some kid's soul I wouldn't be giving rides to anyone for money. Or for any other reason, really."
It sounded kind of too close to ‘serial raper’ to Kane, but he didn’t bother to point that out. His life was like a fucking movie, he supposed, but he’d had that thought before. It was kind of ridiculous and hard to believe, if he was just trying to explain it, but it just was what it was. He had no desire to try and convince this random weird girl that it was all true. Kane shrugged at her questions. “I get bored,” he said. “I like to drive. And it gives me a plausible reason to be out roaming around and hunting at night. Might as well make a few bucks, pick up a few loose tongues, get a lead here and there.” He glanced over at her again, vaguely amused. “You’re a nosy little shit, ain’t you?”
That actually made sense. So he was either a professional bullshitter, or he was telling her the truth. Elodie decided she wanted it to be the truth because it was much more fascinating than just accepting him as a boring, old driver who got off on telling outlandish stories in a shitty town. Believing him meant he was intriguing and dangerous and probably looked hot splattered with blood. Elodie smirked and tossed the remainder of her cigarette out the window. "Am I being nosy? Curiosity is healthy. Besides, if you didn't want to tell me any of this then I think you probably would've told me I was a nosy little shit to start with and kept your mouth shut. Do you talk a lot about deep, dark secrets with your other passengers?"
“Never,” Kane said with a low chuckle. “But most of ‘em don’t confess federal crimes to me either. Probably the serial killer vibes I give off. So I guess you’re just special.” He honestly didn’t really know why he was talking to her, she just seemed like an edgy teen who liked to get fucked up and take risks she probably shouldn’t. They were a dime a dozen all over the country. They were in the town proper now, and Kane slowed down to make the turn into Moxie’s. He pulled the SUV smoothly into a spot in the front and put it in park. After a second’s thought, he killed the engine too and plucked his phone out of its holder. “I gotta take a piss while you get your food,” he said, popping his door open to climb out. He might as well while they were here, he supposed.
Moxie's. Greasy cheeseburger. Yum. Elodie climbed out of the car and had to pause a moment until the swirling of the parking lot stopped. She wiped away some fallen flakes of mascara from her cheeks and headed inside to order her burger. The lights were way too bright inside and it seemed like some friends of Jules had decided to stop for food too. Because there were a lot of teenagers there, some she recognized, some she didn't. It was loud too. Ugh. Elodie ordered her cheeseburger to go, pulling the crumpled bills from her coat to push across the counter to pay. She got seven cents back and slipped the change into her pocket. The tip jar had a lid on it, which was a shame because she could have used the cash and there was no way she could sneak that big of a jar out the door without being seen. Since her cheeseburger would take a few minutes, Elodie folded her arms on the counter top, resting her chin on them with her eyes closed. She swayed in time to the music in her head again until they called her name. Finally she took the bag and headed back out to the SUV, ready to eat and pass out. "You wanna bite?" she asked him, tearing open the bag once she was in her seat.
Kane had a visceral ‘ugh’ reaction when he walked into Moxie’s and saw all the teenagers. He made his way to the restroom to empty his bladder as quickly as possible and get out of there. He ended up giving rides to a lot of teens, but that didn’t mean he liked being around them. They were hormonal and messy and irritating. Safely back in his SUV, Kane slouched a bit to wait for his fare and scrolled through a few apps on his phone. She was back soon enough, and he chuckled a bit at the offer. “You just live life on the edge, huh?” he asked as he turned the vehicle back on and started to back out of the parking spot. “Sharing rides and germs with serial killers.”
Elodie laughed. "Yeah, I live life on the edge in Point Pleasant. Gotta find my kicks somehow." She rolled up the bag, deciding to wait until she got back to Jasper's house before she ate it. There was always the chance eating food now would fuck up her stomach. But it smelled amazing and she would probably devour it before she even stepped foot in Ms. Harris's house. "And you're a serial reaper, don't forget. I've got nothing for you to reap, so I'm not worried. And germs like... boost immune systems, right? I've shared more than just germs with guys here, so whatever. Just chalk it up to me being super nice to you."
Honestly, Point Pleasant was a riskier town to live in than most big cities, much less other sleepy rural towns, just in a different, much less entertaining way. Kane rolled his eyes at the little edgy tough girl stating she didn’t have a soul. If only she knew. Because it was just the way his luck ran, something awful would happen to her while he was still stuck here, and he would end up reaping her too. It was too bad human souls weren’t worth a whole lot on the market -- unless they were very specific -- or Kane would be a billionaire. “I’ll be sure to remember that’s your version of super nice, sure,” he murmured, turning to get them on the road again. Luckily her destination wasn’t much further, Kane was getting tired of talking to an intoxicated teenager.
Elodie was sure she had a soul. Or conscience. Or whatever it was called. But she sure as hell didn't think it'd be worth anything. She wasn't a black eyed kid, or a witch or a monster. At least she didn't think she was. She felt weird being here in Point Pleasant and sometimes she wished she could go back to the fog place and just... stay there. In a bizarre, creepy way, she felt like she belonged there more than she did here. Snorting softly, Elodie looked away. She happened to think offering food was nice, especially if the person hadn't eaten in a while. This guy looked like he was fed just fine and he clearly had the money for food. She sat in silence for a moment before she felt a pain in her lower abdomen. It felt like her flesh was being ripped apart. Elodie could taste blood in her mouth but like the pain, which stole her breath, it only lasted for a brief moment. Her hand gripped her abdomen and she looked down, half expecting to see blood seeping out through her fingers. But there was nothing. Her shirt was still intact too. Elodie breathed in, clutching her shirt before she looked at him, her eyes wide and wild. "You were shot, weren't you? Twice... right here." She poked at her abdomen.
Kane heard the sudden change in her breathing, and he was suddenly sure she was going to puke all over his dashboard after all. Then she started talking and he frowned sharply, glancing over in time to see her poke herself. It just came out of the blue and it sent a chill down his spine. “What the fuck? Where’d that come from?” he asked, shooting her a scowling sort of look. It wasn’t a direct answer, but in his surprise he couldn’t quite cover up the fact that she was spot on. Those wounds had been healed for years and years, but he could still feel a deep uncomfortable twinge sometimes if he twisted a certain way.
"I don't know." And she didn't. It was the excruciating pain at first and then... just knowing. Elodie was going to try and explain that but then she felt it down her back too. Sharp, burning pain that caused her to cry out and instinctively fly forward to somehow get away from it. Her hands pressed into the dashboard as her bag of food fell onto the floorboard. And then it faded, leaving her breathing heavily. What the actual fuck. Was she tripping on something? Maybe someone had drugged her drinks back at Jules's house. Though that didn't make much sense since she hadn't had a drink in over an hour. "You've got scars on your back too," Elodie breathed and it felt like her brain had taken over, speaking for her before she could make any sense of it. "Long ones, like you got slashed by something." She looked over at him while catching her breath. "Am I right?"
The SUV swerved a bit as the girl cried out and jerked forward, and Kane cursed under his breath as he straightened out. He suddenly could not wait to get this girl out of his fucking car. He was tempted just to stop and kick her out to walk the rest of the way, but what if she was having some kind of psychic seizure or something? She could get eaten alive easily in this town. Kane got another creepy feeling when she spoke again. He did have scars on his back. And more elsewhere. Was she going to list all of them, for fuck’s sake? “Yes,” he answered her question, giving her an uneasy glance. “What are you, some kinda injury psychic?” Unless she was playing him for a fool, it seemed like she was in pain herself, and Kane just didn’t know what to make of any of this.
The pain had subsided and Elodie rested back against the seat again, trying to catch her breath and work through the lingering discomfort. "What the fuck is an injury psychic? I'm not one of those. I'm not psychic." At least she didn't think she was. That had never happened to her before. And she was only feeling his scars. Sure, he was the only one in the car with her, but still. Elodie eyed him. "Are you sure you're not doing this? Whatever it is. You're the one who reaps souls and shit for money." She had no idea how that worked, of course, but it felt better to assume it could be this guy fucking with her than if something bizarre was actually happening because of her.
Now it did seem like she was fucking with him, because Kane could not believe this had never happened to her before, if indeed anything was happening at all. “I don’t even know what’s fucking happening right now, so no, it’s not me,” he said, his tone aggravated now. Kane really just wanted to be at her drop off so he could give her the boot and go back to the boring fares that just stared into the depths of their phones. Just in case he was doing it by accident somehow, Kane thought about his latest scar -- the knife-wound in his thigh that had nearly killed him, courtesy of Adrian fucking Moretti -- in a way that felt forceful. If his old shit was hurting her, she could have that one too.
"Don't be so pissy," Elodie said simply. "It's not like I asked the universe to grace me with all your life injuries. Or like, two of them because you for sure have more." She rubbed her thighs and then reached down to grab her bag of food from the floor. The burger was probably all messed up. She honestly had no idea what had happened, or why. There was the very fuzzy, foggy memory of talking to Amelia about how she felt different. Out of place. Was this shit part of that? Was it festering? Some gestation of a creepy fog-related lifeform that was now living inside of her? "Maybe it was the fog," she muttered before fumbling for another cigarette. "Fuck. Guess reaping's not a totally safe job."
Kane was tempted to bounce her head off the dash for telling him not to be pissy, but he knew how irrational and ill-advised that was. The girl didn’t have any reaction to him thinking about his stab wound, so Kane felt settled enough that it wasn’t him, it was her. How or why this had suddenly come up out of the blue in his SUV, he had no idea. He just wanted it to be over. Luckily the girl’s street was coming up, and the house wasn’t too far down it. “Hardly,” he muttered as he slowed down for the turn. “I’ve got a lot more.” He’d almost died more times than he could remember. Definitely more times than he’d gotten scars from. Physical injury wasn’t the only way to die. He was tempted to ask what she meant by the fog, but Kane decided he didn’t want to know.
Elodie wondered if she ought to tell Ms. Harris or Mr. Lucas about what happened. Probably not. Ms. Harris would look worried and Mr. Lucas would probably sigh. She'd tell Jasper though, if it happened again. Because if it was from the fog, maybe it was happening to him too. Feeling better now that the pain had evaporated, Elodie smirked softly and got her cigarette lit. "I totally freaked you out, didn't I? I bet that doesn't happen a lot." And she knew she ought to be more worried about what just happened. But she would rather be worried alone, and when her head was clearer. Right now she was feeling floaty and tired and numb in certain places and she just wanted to eat and curl up in Jasper's bed.
It didn’t happen a lot, she was right about that, but Kane didn’t often have people spouting random psychic facts at him. Personal ones, at that. All of his scars felt deeply personal to him, as someone so connected to death, and he didn’t like this girl being Cool and Edgy about them. It gave him the creeps to wonder what else she might just know without trying. Like his tattoos and what they were for. He tried not to get too paranoid, but what if she ‘knew’ about his scars because she’d been sent to find him? What if she was something Else just toying with him before striking? It all made him feel tense, and the lack of concern from the passenger seat only made the feeling worse. “And I bet that just delights you, don’t it,” Kane murmured. He sped down the residential street until they reached the right house, then came to a stop in front of the driveway.
"Well, yeah. I don't get to freak out adult men all that often. And you're Mister Reaper, badass who drives around looking for souls to sell. Kind of dents that image and makes you all... human and stuff." Elodie stared at him with her blue eyes in the dark before she grinned and reached for the door to push it open. "We've shared secrets now. That makes us super bonded. Try not to get stabbed again... that shit hurts." She shut the door and waved before turning to walk up the driveway to the porch. There was a light still on and she really hoped Gavin and Ms. Harris weren't screwing somewhere. Although if they were she'd at least get to see Gavin's ass, which would be awesome. Either way, she was "home" and happy for it.