Memento mori

amnesia, the british descent

Oberon was enjoying himself a bit too much. At least one of us had fun, but having three hounds in the same place around student...

I still have no idea what to do of the aura our positions granted us. I think most of us here used it in the most unconventional way. At least for those I know. Eric pretended to not notice it, and Oberon didn't actually notice it. For me it was just awkward. Hanna, on her side, simply put up with it.

I had to actually go back on the parking, wait for Oberon to come with Hanna, and I had to put up our insignia again. With my usual grumpy face, I seemed ready to kill anyone who would look me the wrong way.

The director made a happy face when he saw his little sister. I did see a look of familiarity, but it was in their stance rather than in their body. However, thank god they didn't go all chummy, we didn't had time. We scheduled our outing in the underground(yes I know outing is rather incorrect in this situation) in around an hour, and the rest of time was just dedicated to interrogation.

Meaning: no one leaves the area, magical barrier put in place by Oberon, and everyone is panicking silently.

I was glad that we received backup from our bosses, bothering to come all the way here to assure no mass panic would follow after whatever we would do underground.

Another good thing is that we had the help from deer Will, alongside Mr. Bennet and the director willing help to handle everything. That surely made things easier for all of us.

At this point, standing at the threshold, ready to face a infinite amount of possible scenario on what is on the underground, focusing on all the good things was all I could do.

I enjoyed the hour we had to make a full check-up on me. I took the time to administrate proper care and make me look more presentable. With this, I could almost stand effortlessly.

Almost.

If Eric sees me in a better shape, he will have less things to worry about.

As I thought this, I look myself in the mirror, reflecting on the fact that Eric mental load was the first thing I thought about. In the end, I cared a lot about what I was to him.

Me too, had yet to put the correct word on this.

Not yet.

Finishing to prepare myself, I looked very decent. Maybe shall I dare to say pretty. I focused on everything that wasn't worth crying over. Then I pushed aside everything bothering, reminding myself of this state of mind that I had in the street.

I look myself in the mirror again. I had found my familiar state.

Cold, calculative, reasonable and logical. Focus on fact, and not on yourself.

That's how I must do.

In the mirror, is my face. I'm now sure it's a lie. Or maybe I'm convincing it is one, a double lie.

I sigh. I forget the feeling of dread, the screeching darkness that crawls at every unseen turn.

I look in the mirror. I couldn't care less

For now at least.

I brace myself and cross a building or two before joining my colleagues in front of what seems to be the entrance of a sewer, the only remaining access to the digging site.

Abandon all sanity, oh ye who dare to enter here. It is the way into the underground of woe.

***

There are many way to write a horror story. An underground abandoned digging site is a good setting for it. I would probably make a good horror writer. Or not... maybe because I lack the sensitivity to be afraid to things like the dark, creaking doors or ghost(that's funny).