Six Feet Under • Anthony Lockwood

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this chapter is so brutal.
•
after

Amelia Evans glared down at the silver box on the table, the one holding the vile piece of metal that connected to the ghost that attempted to kill them all in the middle of the night. She wanted no part in this meeting but Lockwood had dragged her down to the kitchen, ignoring the acidic words that spewed from her mouth about Lucy.

The girl in question was avoiding her icy glare, fear of being frozen in place making her avert her eyes away from the girl who was held in place from the arm Lockwood had wrapped around her waist. Even George could barely meet her eyes, his nervousness making him glance between Amelia and Lucy every few minutes to see when his best mate would finally blow her top towards the younger girl.

"I didn't know it was the source. I just took it because it's like I can feel what she feels. What she wants." Lucy was standing on the other side of the table attempting to reason with them while Amelia was sandwiched between Lockwood and George, her fingers twisting the necklace that she held dear between her fingers. "Uh. No, it's hard to explain.

"A psychic connection." Lockwood glanced down at Amelia to see her face set in stone, her thoughts completely hidden from them, before turning back to look at Lucy who was tapping a photo of the deceased woman against the table.

"Yes!" Lucy exclaimed in excitement that they were finally understanding why she took the source, though from the looks on their faces, they were still miles away from understanding completely.

"I literally cannot believe
you stole a source from a crime scene." George, always the logical member of the group, pointed out the one thing that they were all collectively thinking. It was the one thing that no one had mentioned but it sent a wave of nausea through Amelia's stomach as she realized that they were already in hot water with the company at hand. "DEPRAC will bury us."

"They'll bury her." Amelia declared snidely, her face twitching as Lucy's terrified eyes met her own. She could see that the younger girl was wary of her, especially when she noticed that Lockwood was almost as stony faced as she was in that moment. Lucy had yet to grasp that she had almost gotten them killed in their home, the one safety net that they had left in the world. "I warned you when you first turned up that you would wish you never had if you put us in danger. Instead of thinking logically, you stole a source and brought it into our home without locking it up properly. You risked my life and more importantly you risked the lives of Georgie and Lockwood. You can go about risking your own life but don't drag us down with you."

"Excuse me." Lucy welled with indignation, her face souring at the accusations thrown her way before she caught sight of the skull in the glass case that always sat there. "I'm not the only one round here who steals sources. What about that ridiculous skull you're always experimenting on?"

"That skull has been in our possession for three years." Amelia began heatedly when George shrunk back next to her. She could feel the warning in the way that Lockwood squeezed her side above her hip. She felt her fingers release the necklace that was wrapped soundly around her neck, the feel of it bouncing against the skin over her heart soothing her, before pointing harshly at Lucy. "It's in a case and has never tried to actively kill us like the source that you dared to bring into our home."

"Annabel was stuck behind a wall
for years with nobody knowing
and DEPRAC doing sod all." Lucy pleaded her case once again, her heart bleeding for the ghost that was now trapped inside of a little case in front of them all, just like she had been trapped behind a wall for all those years. "She needs our help."

"And what does she expect you to do, exactly, after all this time?" George spoke up again, his eyes drifting towards Amelia who was once again shooting the now heartened Lucy a firm scowl. It was a fiery look and he was instantly glad that the look was not directed towards him.