[xxi] Hammered Hands

2.6K 88 76
                                    

November 5

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

November 5

5:10 P.M.

Tonsla Household

  "How long do you think it'll be before he releases another?"

Phoebe's mother sat to her left in the weaponry room, watching her intently. Phoebe was focused solely on her craft, her tongue peeking out of her mouth as she stared down at and examined the work before her.

"Whenever he feels the time is right." She shrugged, fingers going to make a few more adjustments to her mold. "..Whenever it's least convenient for me."

The doorbell rings and Joy happily jumps up and runs to go get the door, opening it up to see her newest favorite person.

Over the last week, ever since Jackson died, Phoebe and Isaac had gotten even closer. And finally, just a few nights ago, Phoebe was feeling brave enough to bump their relationship status up to "Kind of seeing each other". So, Isaac began to come over every day, keeping her company.

Though, he was pretty sure Joy enjoyed his company more than Phoebe did.

"I won't get in you kids' way this time!" Joy insisted with a wide smile, grabbing Isaac's hand and practically pushing him towards the weaponry room. "Go! Have fun! Don't touch the guns!"

Everything was moving so fast that Isaac could barely even register that she'd slammed the door in his face. He chuckled to himself and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking over to where he knew he'd find Phoebe.

Usually, when she'd hear him enter the house, she'd jump up and beginning blabbing off about anything. But today was different. As he went further and finally saw her sitting at a desk, she said absolutely nothing, and Isaac could definitely feel an awkward tension in the room.

"I know you're here." Phoebe muttered, adjusting her gloved grip on a metal can. "I need complete silence right now, and when I'm done, then we can do all of those ugly things couples do."

"Couples, huh?" Isaac quirked an eyebrow, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting.

"I'm serious, Isaac." Phoebe quipped in a growl, "Please be quiet."

He leaned on his elbow and watched as she carefully began to pour a silver liquid into a key-shaped mold, making sure not too much was added but not too much was missing. She made sure that it was smooth and that there were no clumps or ridges in it before grabbing the other half of the mold and pressing it down onto the other, sealing the silver. With a sigh of relief, she sits back in her chair and pulls her gloves off.

"So, what's all this?" Isaac inquires, nudging her gently.

Phoebe bites her lip as she stares down at it. "It's a tradition in hunter families. Once you're old enough, you make something that means the most to you. My dad and Allison's dad made bullets because those were their favorite weapons. My mom made a book type thing, because she believes more in fighting with logic.. Allison made an arrowhead, since she's best with arrows. And I-"

THE GRAVEDIGGER'S HANDBOOK → ISAAC LAHEYWhere stories live. Discover now