Kid has been in the library, reading up on, of all things, Christmas. The sudden influx of decorations and the semi-psychotic mistletoe in particular have had him extremely curious. When all the pine isn't making him sneeze, at least. Caelondia was a Mediterranean sort of climate; not much in the way of evergreens.
Christmas is confusing to him, and as far as he knows, mistletoe is supposed to be one of those plants that doesn't grow fangs and try to bite you. But it's been a curiosity. Everyone's talking about it, and he figures he should know a thing or two about Wonderland's chosen holiday.
There's also the cracks in the floors, and those familiar gray roots churning away beneath wood and stone. They haven't come through yet, but their mere presence is in no way, shape or form a good sign.
He's on his way toward the diner now, head aching from all the pine in the air, hammer slung over one shoulder. He never goes anywhere without it these days, not when the mansion can change at any second.
The first sign that this day is going to be a long one is the ghost.
It's a woman he doesn't recognize, just slightly translucent, and she comes running at him from around a corner up ahead, screaming. He freezes and is about to call out to her when she runs right through him. And right on her heels is a...monster. Like nothing he's ever seen. He ducks, but it passes right through him as well. He casts a dumbstruck look back over his shoulder, to see monster and woman flicker and vanish, right as the creature gets its claws into her.
"Damn an' blast." That sure wasn't anything to do with Christmas. At least none of the stories he read mentioned a gigantic monster.
He picks up the pace, wanting to get away from this hall--get to the diner and tell people what he saw. Wonderland is up to something again, and the last time there were ghosts around, there was a rather catastrophic chess game shortly afterward.
He's a hallway away from the diner when he spots Dean. Just standing there, as if he hasn't been missing for days now. Or...not quite. He looks different. He looks exhausted.
"Th' hell? Dean?" He approaches, just slightly wary. Cracks in the floor and monstrous ghosts, there's no telling if this is the Dean he knows. "Where ya been? Folk've been lookin' for ya."
December 15th, late afternoon
Christmas is confusing to him, and as far as he knows, mistletoe is supposed to be one of those plants that doesn't grow fangs and try to bite you. But it's been a curiosity. Everyone's talking about it, and he figures he should know a thing or two about Wonderland's chosen holiday.
There's also the cracks in the floors, and those familiar gray roots churning away beneath wood and stone. They haven't come through yet, but their mere presence is in no way, shape or form a good sign.
He's on his way toward the diner now, head aching from all the pine in the air, hammer slung over one shoulder. He never goes anywhere without it these days, not when the mansion can change at any second.
The first sign that this day is going to be a long one is the ghost.
It's a woman he doesn't recognize, just slightly translucent, and she comes running at him from around a corner up ahead, screaming. He freezes and is about to call out to her when she runs right through him. And right on her heels is a...monster. Like nothing he's ever seen. He ducks, but it passes right through him as well. He casts a dumbstruck look back over his shoulder, to see monster and woman flicker and vanish, right as the creature gets its claws into her.
"Damn an' blast." That sure wasn't anything to do with Christmas. At least none of the stories he read mentioned a gigantic monster.
He picks up the pace, wanting to get away from this hall--get to the diner and tell people what he saw. Wonderland is up to something again, and the last time there were ghosts around, there was a rather catastrophic chess game shortly afterward.
He's a hallway away from the diner when he spots Dean. Just standing there, as if he hasn't been missing for days now. Or...not quite. He looks different. He looks exhausted.
"Th' hell? Dean?" He approaches, just slightly wary. Cracks in the floor and monstrous ghosts, there's no telling if this is the Dean he knows. "Where ya been? Folk've been lookin' for ya."