Things That Should Never Be

[Miles]

December was a harsh month in the city of Keystone. Snow fell, temperatures dropped, and thus going on hunts became rather difficult. With a temperature reading five degrees and when it felt like it was negative, it was human nature to remain inside and curl up into a ball to keep warm, at least for most people. Of course, it wouldn’t stop the supernatural, so that made the work for those that inhabited The Wesson uncomfortably hard.

Today was a day off, for there were no strange reports, articles, happenings, anything. Honestly, Miles thought that with the holiday season coming, things would pick up and there would be more hunts, but apparently Keystone preferred to remain dead.

Miles had been wrapped up in the heat of his room, catching up on a show he’d discovered online when the episode stopped and began to rebuffer. He really needed to find a new site, this one always had bugs and was just bothersome. Nevertheless, a simple click of the refresh button would…what? His connection was down? How was that possible? The only way was the weather, and even then it wasn’t even bad. He frowned, rolled his chair back, and walked out into the hall.

The floors beneath him retained the heat as he made his way towards the router. He’d just reset it, a simple solution. As he approached it, a flat, yellow object caught his eye. A Post-it note? He lifted it up.
Pay back for the height comment. Have fun taking down the firewall. –Teagan

Moments later he was down the stairs, his eyes scanning for the bartender. “Deacon! Teagan is here and…WHOA! What’s going on?!”

[Casey]

Deacon slumped into a chair at one of the tables. He let his whole body relax into his seat. No hunts and his parents had finally forfeited on going to Peru for Art’s late birthday. Looked like having three Rooks to out vote instead of two to tie in opposition finally got the elder Rooks to give up. Then again they might not have argued against the trip if it was planned before hand. Also would have helped if they weren’t hunting at the time. Lack of responsibility is more supportive of spontaneity.

A knock on the door lead Deacon to groan. He stood and stretched before hollering, “It’s open.”

While he hadn’t been expecting anything in particular, he was surprised to see Teagan storm through the door. He was about to ask her what was going on, like why she wasn’t in Portland, when she pulled a gun on him.

“What the hell?!?!” He held up his hands. Part of his brain began running through all the monsters that could be responsible. Even while he was doing that he knew in his gut that it was Teagan standing in front of him.

Miles appeared downstairs and Deacon looked at him, “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

Deacon knew that Teagan wouldn’t shoot him but that knowledge was getting a good shaking as she held the gun steady, pointed right at him.

[Teagan]

“Hello Deacon.”

The teenager stood calmly and cockily, gun firmly aimed at one Deacon Rook. Her breathing was steady, stance precise and alert to all her surroundings. She wore a light pair of jeans and a snug red and white strip tee, hair hanging loosely on her shoulders. A serious look painted her normally cheerful face.

There was nothing to laugh about now.

“Didn’t expect to see me, did you?” A bitter tone leaked out, raising the level of tension in the room. Teagan meant business. Behind her, the door opened and footsteps quietly stopped at either side of her. The door shut with a soft click. She didn’t have to release her gaze on Deacon to know Aiden and Yuki had her back. Good. That would make things that much easier.

“Don’t act like you weren’t expecting this, Deacon,” Teagan glared, taking the safety off the gun. “It’s been coming for awhile.”

[Yuki]

Flashback. Five months before that very moment was the instance where Yuki sealed her fate. Five months ago, she had stepped foot in that very same tavern, completely unaware of what was about to happen. It was like Kyon had stated in The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya—a trigger marks a point in one’s life where something eventful happens as a result of something seemingly ordinary. Five months ago, this was her trigger. Five months ago, she had been thrust semi-unwillingly into the world of the supernatural. Five months ago she had fought a poltergeist, met her would-be faction leader, along with Jefferson, Deacon and Art. Five months ago, the minute she stepped foot into that tavern had been the catalyst.

Five months ago, he had called her Kitty.

She stood behind Teagan, glaring at the man, much in the same manner she had five months ago. He would now suffer for his crime. True, Yuki was not the one executing his peril, but at least he would get what he deserved.

No one called her “Kitty” and got away with it.

[Aiden]

A meeting had been called to order nearly five months to the day. All the factions—which was three—were meeting to discuss the developments that had been made, and present the new hunters. But Portland? They were far too cool to show up on time, be stuck in some mediocre meeting, and drive home. No way. They were getting there early.

The idea arose on the ride up to Keystone. Of course, it had been Teagan’s idea, but each one of them was in full support of spreading the pranks of Portland to those in Keystone. Miles was still unknown to Aiden and Yuki, but Art and Deacon were planned within the confines of the car, mostly by means of Teagan. She was, after all, the mastermind.

The backdoor was open, something that Aiden would definitely use against Deacon. While Teagan worked her magic upstairs, Yuki and Aiden prepared for the prank that would be pulled on Deacon. They didn’t know about Teagan and her aim, right? This was going to be priceless.

And priceless it was. Shortly after Yuki entered the room, Aiden too entered. “You shouldn’t leave the back door unlocked, you know,” Aiden said, rather darkly. He moved around Deacon, checking Teagan’s aim. “Teagan, do it. Pull the trigger.” He couldn’t wait for the reaction.

[Teagan]

Teagan glanced sideways at Aiden, mulling over the order. “What happens now Deacon? I can’t disobey a direct command from the leader of the faction.” She briefly motioned to the ebony pistol. “I wanted to shoot of my own accord, but I suppose its best I show you what I learned under direct supervision.”

She aimed the gun straight at Deacon’s heart. “It’s so hard to say goodbye.” Without hesitation she pulled the trigger, not even blinking as the recoil flew against her small frame.

A moment later she pointed the smoking barrel to the ground and inspected her shot. A small grin spread over her face as red liquid poured onto the floor. “Spot on.”

[Casey]

Deacon really didn’t say anything. His mind kept looping on the fact he had a gun pointed at him. Then there was a gun pointed at him and the other two weren’t doing anything. When Aiden gave the order to shoot, his eyes widened. Were they serious? Had they all gone insane in Portland? Sure the west coast was different from the mid west but that was no excuse for their behavior.

When the gun went off Deacon stood stock still, afraid what would happen if he moved. After a few seconds without pain he lowered his arms and took a deep breath. Still not dying he looked at the three of them.

“What the hell?!?!” He repeated. Deacon slumped against the wall and caught something out of the corner of his eye. Ketchup? He could think of a few words stronger than “hell” to use and he would have if decreasing his heart rate wasn’t a priority.

The door cracked open and Art stuck his head into the Wesson, “Uh, I heard a gunshot. Are you alive or is this the delay before the body slumps over?”

“I’ll tell you in a few minutes,” Deacon replied. Seriously, who does this crap?

[Teagan]

“See? Check it out! They finally trained me how to use a gun!” Teagan squealed, placing the safety back on. “Unfortunately, I have this slight issue where my aim is three feet off to the left, but I’ve learned to compensate well, don’tcha think? It took a million and two years to perfect, but now my aim is solid. Cool, huh?” The car ride to Keystone, though not too far, had completely bored her to death and all of the pent up energy needed a way to expel itself. At the moment, the best placed seemed to be through Teagan’s verbal conversations, speeding it up double the normal pace.

At the end of her rapid explanation she noticed the other occupants of the room and waved, smiling brightly to the person at the door. “Hi Art.” Note: no tattoos. Good sign. Moving on.

To Miles, she winked. “How’s your internet running, squirt? Nice to finally meet you in person.”