A Collection Of Oneshots

Chapter 3-It's Real

When I was four your grandparents would tell you stories, ones they claimed were real. About an island named Cairnholm, and a strange family that lived there. Those stories were made into a series of six books written by your grandfather under a false name. Complete with pictures, that as you got older, assumed were doctored.

Your grandparents both passed away when you were seven, in an accident no one would ever give you any information about. You didn't even know how it happened. They left you the original copies of your grandfathers books, along with a ton of pictures that could only be fake. It was the only sensible way to explain them.

Now you were seventeen, and once again looking through your wooden box filled with all sorts of strange old photographs. You pulled out your few favorites and looked them over, taking in every familiar detail. One was of the headmistress, Miss Peregrine. She was beautiful. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a small crush on this made up character.

And then there were two group photos you found interesting. You'd learned the names of everyone in these photos, but lately it seemed harder to remember. The first one had Miss Peregrine and all her usual wards, including Victor, and a man named Abe, who according to your family was your great, great grandpa. But in the second picture Victor and Abe weren't there. In their place were two others that resembled your grandparents. Which made no sense, because everyone else looked the exact same age, even though the photos were obviously taken decades apart.

The next picture you looked at was labeled 'The Ymbrynes Academy'. There was a large group of girls, and many birds, standing in front of a giant school. If you looked close enough in the crowd you could see Miss Peregrine. Along with a few other Ymbrynes your grandparents had told you about. Like Miss Avocet, who taught at the academy.

And the last one wasn't even a picture, but a drawing. It was of a horrible human-like creature, with multiple rows of sharp misshapen teeth, long spindly limbs, two eyes constantly leaking a black ooze, and with three long tongues littered with suction cups. It was a hollow. Your grandpa had said they used to be common, but he killed them all on an epic quest with the help of his friends. Well it sounds dumb when you put it that way.

You put the box away and left your room to fish for food in the cabinets. "Mom, we're out of poptarts." You said when she walked by.

"Oh, I was about to go get you from your room." She said and entered the kitchen. "Add poptarts to the grocery list." She pointed at the paper pinned to the fridge. You nodded and picked up a pen to go and write it down. "Anyway, I wanted to talk about your grandparents."

"Grandma Amber and Grandpa J?" You asked. "What about them? Oh no, did they buy another cat?"

"No no, not those grandparents. My mother and father, Grandma Noor and Grandpa Jake." She said, talking about the two who'd died.

"Oh. What about them?"

"You must remember the stories they used to tell you?" You nodded. "The island they told you about, Cairnholm, that's real. But the rest, is obviously all made up. Anyway the point is, I'm going to Wales for a business trip, and you're coming with. I figure if you'd like to see the island and the destroyed children's home you could take the ferry to Carinholm. But the trip is in a week."

"Actually, that sounds fun." She hummed and left the room before you could even ask any questions. Go figure.

You went back to your room and grabbed the last book in the series that Grandpa Jacob had written. You opened the back cover, and on the inside of it you found writing. 'It's Real'. Those words used to confuse you, though it was obvious what your grandfather had meant when he's written it. He wanted you to know that the stories were real, than those people were real, and their gifts were real.

But they weren't.

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Your mother didn't want to go with you to the island. You were pretty sure she just wanted to get rid of you, because she booked you for a week and the only bed and breakfast on the island and told you to just stay on the island for the entire weeklong trip. She'd be waiting for the ferry at the end of the week and she'd be in touch.

I walked into the pub and looked around. There were only a few people in the building. One woman was sat at the bar that you vaguely recognized. You approached the man behind the bar. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the manager?"

"That's me." He said proudly. "My name is Kev, who are you, might I ask?"

"Y/n. I believe I have a reservation under the name Portman?" I asked, unknowingly catching the attention of the woman next to me.

"Yep, lemme go fetch the keys to your room." He said, going into the back room.

"Excuse me." The woman seated at the bar said, looking over at you. You hummed in acknowledgment but didn't pay her much mind. "Did you say your name is Y/n Portman?" She stood up, looking you over carefully. Now you were a bit weary.

"I did. And who might I ask are you?" You backed up a bit as she approached.

She smiled at you. "It is you. Why the last time I saw you, you were so small." Them she met your eyes again. "Oh my, please forgive my rudeness. My name is Alma Peregrine, it's a pleasure to meet you Miss Portman." She said, holding out her hand. You didn't take it, too surprised to respond. Everything clicked into place.

"You're- you.. My grandfather... A-and- I- Woah." She chuckled at your loss of words.

And then Kev came back. "I've got your keys here Ma'am. Room two." He smiled as he handed them to you. You thanked him and grabbed Alma by the wrist, having her follow you.

"Who are you?" You said with a glare.

"I already told you." She smiles despite your darkened mood.

"No. You're not real. You died when a bomb dropped on your house. My grate, grate, grandfather made up stories about that home. And my grandfather took those stories, and added more to them. But they're not real. You are dead. And I am insane."

"Ah, Jake and Noor. I did so love them while they were under my care. Did they live good lives after they left?"

"They did. But now they're..." You trailed off.

"Gone, yes I'm aware, and I'm very sorry for your loss."

"You know?"

"I know that is Jake was still alive, he would've told me you were coming." She said, following you into your room. You were both silent for a long moment before she broke it. "Would you like to come to my loop? Meet my wards?"

You looked at the beautiful woman in front of you before shrugging. "How could I say no."

All throughout the tour you sort of just stared at Alma. She was just... wow. "If you're going to stare at me instead of pay attention to the tour, I wouldn't be surprised if you get lost in this house." She smirked.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

You met each of the wards. Except Enoch was was apparently hiding. You and Alma, along with multiple chilled sat in the parlor, doing a number of things. Alma played chess with herself as you sat next to her staring out the window. Emma and Olive were both reading. And Claire was asleep in an uncomfortable chair in an even more uncomfortable position.

Then Enoch walked in the room and screamed when he saw you. "Oh geez!" He said with wide eyes. "If I had a face like yours I'd sue my parents!" He said like he was actually scared of the idea.

"Mr O'Connor!" Miss Peregrine began to scold him. Yep, I'd be willing to bet I'm going to end up telling my therapist about this nightmare kid.

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Lmao therapy