Description:
My name is Earl Briarwood, I'm what you call a Paranormal Detective, Researcher, or even Crackhead if you're feeling a little bit rough.
I'm about 30 years old, give or take... to be honest I don't remember. Times are a tad bit funny that way. I'm one of those P.I.'s who works the hidden council to stop the world from getting plagued by the most gnarly of the beasts of the world.
Beasts be the loose term for most the things I've had to fight.
Today was no different, or so I hoped.
Until I met that damn kid... let's just hope I don't have to get death to resurrect me again or I'm going to have more problems than pre-death lectures to deal with.
~~~
Chapter One: The Fog of Strings
To say my profession is stale, is an untoned understatement. Most people believe they can just become Paranormal Detectives for the Eldritch horrors out of pure whim. But, I’ll tell you its far mind bending within these last thirty-four years then I can ever give it credit for. Having for the last three and a half of those saving the asses of those who didn’t take the profession seriously.
My name is Professor Earl Briarwood, and I am despising my own living existence right now.
Let me start from the beginning, I love my job. I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t. Breaking a few bones and being at deaths door more times than I can count is just part of the territory. I think that’s why when I hear about a ‘supposed’ P.I Detective in town I always have to count my blessings.
Well, up till someone pisses off the wrong demon that is. Then, and only then do I get involved. 9 times out of 10 I figure out what they did wrong just by asking the poor thing they summoned. Other times it’s a stubborn son of a bitch that just wants to yank my chain.
That said, it has been awfully quiet. The last two weeks have been the usual possessions and ankle biting lower rank that wants to pull a rise out of some poor folks. Thinking about it makes my very skin crawl. Even as the sun began to set the cold air drifted through like a fog dampening whatever plans I had set.
“Fucking great… out of all the fucking towns you had to send me to, this is the one that curves your fancy?”
“Well darling do you have any other plans?~” The sickening sweet voice breathed against my ear sending its rightful chill down my spine as a pale arms lay against my shoulders.
“With you hanging over my shoulders, a bottle of scotch sounds absolutely amazing.” Slim fingers grip my chin tightly lifting my head to look at the figures long dark locks. Ladies and Gentlemen, the bane of my existence and probably the only thing keeping me out of restful sleep. Lady Death herself.
“How many times must I tell you, that bottle has a terrible end…”
“And would you really let that stop you from resurrecting my tired ass?” Smirking at my own words her nails dig into my skin for a second before pulling away entirely.
“No, I still need you.”
“That’s what I thought. Now.” Looking around jokingly, I can see the deep-seated frown against her smooth complexion. “Where’s the nearest bar?” The not-so-quiet huff makes the smile hurt against my cheek bones as I shook my head and strode into the center of town. “What is this place anyway?”
“Crook borrow, another P. N. has gone missing in the area.” Turning towards her voice with a raised brow.
“And you wanted me to come here because? What some hunch I can find them?” Lifting my hands up a bit I shrug as the eerie quietness of the supposed bustling town seemed all too, what is the word… DEAD.
“You do have a knack for finding worse things.” She teases the tips of her fingers running down my neck.
"Fine… where do we start?”
~~~
Story Updates will be every week hope you enjoy half the story. The full chapter is up!!
