Realistic or Modern ✩ 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 ✩

[the winter soldier]

ELIJAH
​

He was fill in shock for moments after. Still, maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t had much sleep and this was all his imagination playing tricks on him again. Perhaps the camera had always been situated on the bed. Or he hadn’t even gone down to the basement. He knew the theories were far fetched, but his mind would come up with anything now to prove that there was nothing mysterious going on.

But that’s when he remembered the feeling of pain on his back. The same pain from the dream the night prior. He frowned, fidgeting slightly, hoping he had just bashed himself on the way up from the stairs. Even though he couldn’t remember catching himself, that was an easy conclusion to settle with. But, being Elijah, he wanted more proof. He wanted to settle this torment in his mind completely.

He quickly discarded the camera onto the bed before hopping over to the mirror above his chest of drawers. Elijah slipped off his shirt and flung it to the top of the chest, then tried to angle his body correctlynso he was able to see his back within the mirror. A breath hitched in his throat at the sight. Three jagged lines. They weren’t just any jagged lines either. Hisneyes scanned the floor and stopped once they reached the floorboard which could be removed. The same lines as the scratches in the floor. “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming.” He told himself, squeezing hisneyes shut as if it would wake him up, or at least take him out of this nightmare and into a more calming dream. When he released them though, he was still stood there, half naked, eyes wide and staring at the closed up wounds in his back. But how could they have closed so quickly, he asked himself. Not that anything else about this morning made sense either.

He let out a shaky breath before grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head. He then retrieved the hoodie from the day before and repeated the process. His hands, like the day before, grabbed the box of cigarettes and he headed over to the window. His parents catching him was the lowest of his worries. He stared outside, feeling like he was entrapped in his own abode. And at the strike of the match, it instantly went out. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He grumbled, though it had a hint of fear. He tried ten more times until the match lit and sparked the end of his cigarette. He chained it until there was nothing left before lighting another.

 

[sunsets]

jude wilhelm fredrickson
​

Jude knew it was a bad time, but seeing Elijah take his shirt off - well, he couldn't help but look. He was an attractive guy with the body to match. He also couldn't help but notice the mark on his back that looked a lot like the mark Jude had received from his time down in the basement. Jude could still remember just how bad it hurt and just how quickly the mark seemed to fade. Almost like it never happened, which was what Jude had convinced himself over time.

When Jude had moved into the house, he was convinced the place was driving him crazy. If he was alone and downstairs, he would hear footsteps in the hallway upstairs. If he was alone and downstairs, he would hear hushed chatter. He would see things from the corner of his eye, feel the coldness in the room and notice how the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up every time he walked over the threshold and into the house. The whole time he lived here, he believed it to be evil. But, it was where he died and where his spirit would now remain. Aimlessly. No wonder it was always on the market for so cheap, especially since people were signing up to be roomies with a bunch of evil entities. Jude was just glad he had Michael.

Walking over to the floorboard with the scratches on them while Elijah attempted to spark up a cigarette, Jude crouched down with a sigh. He reached his hand out and traced the tips of his fingers over the only sign in the house that pointed to a struggle. His struggle. As much as he hated the idea of people changing the way the house was, he would've been happy to see the floorboard go. It only ever triggered him. Nobody really knew what happened that day - his father just came home to see the place was a bloody mess. There were bloody handprints and footprints that led him up the stairs and into the room of his son who was dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Nineteen. He still had that same bitter taste on his tongue.

 

[the winter soldier]

ELIJAH
​

Although he had been trying to come up with theories about how these strange occurrences could have come to be, there was a voice telling him that these weren’t just some hallucination. They were real. He tried to shake the thought but it always returned to the front of his mind. He grit his teeth, slamming his fist onto the windowsill. Why did bad things always happen to him? He thought. At least he still had his dog, though. Even through the nights of his parents bickering, when he couldn’t stay at his friends house, Wolf has always been his means of comfort and drew him out of the long spells of loneliness. He was all he had now, in a house that was so empty but felt so crowded at the same time.

Crowded with invisibility and auras. He knew there was something strange going on, and he wanted to find out what, but he knew that going it alone would not do him any good. So called for help from the only thing he knew how. His eyes darted down to Wolf who seemed to have other ideas. “We are going.” He demanded. He grabbed the torch before pulling on some shoes this time, and then made his way back down, to the basement with camera in hand, and a torch in the other.

“You can’t fucking hide.” He commented, eyes darting around. He was aware he probably looked insane. Perhaps he was. Maybe this was actually a dream and he was just in too deep to wake up. It definitely felt like one. How could all this crazy stuff be happening? Especially when he didn’t even believe in life after death, let alone ghosts. He grabbed his camera but didn’t bring it up to his eyes, simply held down the capture button and listened to the shutter repeat itself over twenty times. This time he’d have hard evidence. “Come on, I want a fair fight.” He said, now almost chucking to himself. There wasn’t anything down here at all. It was just a trick of the light and a bad memory to explain what happened earlier.

He let his arms go limp when he realised that nothing was going to occur. That was until he felt something stab into his right side. “What the–“ He started, turning around but again, there was nothing to be seen. He jolted again, feeling the same pain but in the other side of his body. “Fuck.” And again, and again, and again. Until he didn’t know what to do, so called out for help. But knew that his parents were far to busy to hear.

 

[sunsets]

jude wilhelm fredrickson
​

Elijah pulling on his shoes and grabbing the same torch he used before caught his attention immediately which he was thankful for. Any more reminiscing on his demise and he would find himself back in that same dark place. A dark place that Elijah would find himself in if he was going to do what Jude assumed he was. He must've been batshit crazy to even consider going back down into that basement. Nevertheless, Jude followed him down and watched on with a disapproving look as Elijah disappeared down into the basement.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Jude mumbled to himself. He felt sorry for the dog. Wolf hadn't signed up for the hassle. Not even five minutes later, Jude could hear the faint callings for help and Jude felt his body freeze. Surely his parents would hear? But no, the sound of them continuing to bicker just proved that they weren't hearing their sons pleads for help. Like always, it was left to Jude.

Inhaling deeply, Jude fought back the reluctance he felt from heading down into the basement. It was like descending the stairs into hell. The place was dark, it was creepy and it smelt like rotting bodies. The latter part wasn't a shock, considering what took place there. The floorboards of the basement stairs creaked underneath Jude's rushing feet. The only thing that motivated him enough to go into the basement was the adrenaline that coursed through his body. Once he had gotten off of the last step, he saw Elijah and was quick to move across the floor to him. He grabbed Elijah's wrist and moved his arm around Jude's neck, Jude's arm snaking around Elijah's waist. The whole thing felt like a blur. Being down in the basement made Jude feel distorted but somehow, he found himself back in the kitchen seconds later with Elijah clinging onto him and Wolf brushing his face up against Jude's leg. He had well and truly blown his cover now.

 

[the winter soldier]

ELIJAH
​

Elijah felt himself slip out of consciousness, midway through whatever bearing that was. When he felt his eyes slip open and he saw a hand on him, he frowned. How did he even arrive back in the kitchen? Surely this was a sign that he was going crazy. Perhaps he had just fainted in the kitchen and all the prior day had been a dream. In fact, maybe it wasn’t the next day after all, maybe this was the day they had moved in. He knew that wasn’t possible. His mind, still hazy, returned to the hand. He presumed it was his mother, but upon closer inspection he realised it was a male hand and his father would never get this close to him, not without a fight anyway.

He couldn’t remmeber the last time he had hugged his father. Probably when he was a young child. Before his adolescence. Before his mood swings. Realising it was neither of his parents, Elijah roused from his sleepiness and jolted away from whosever it was, standing up. He moved over to the wall and leaned up against it, still feeling pain shoot up his sides. “Fuck.” He cursed to himself. When his eyes spotted the boy, he frowned. He could swear he recognised him, but couldn’t put his finger on where or how he did. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my house?” He demanded.

This was probably where all those nuisances were occurring from. The boy right in front of him, not some made up paranormal mumbo jumbo. “You’re the one that’s been fucking with me, haven’t you?” He growled, stepping forwards to grab him by the neck. “You been living in the basement while they sold this place, huh? Answer me, dammit!”

 

[sunsets]

jude wilhelm fredrickson
​

"Woah, woah, woah, calm down there scrappy," Jude expressed, trying to bite back the amused smile on his lips. He wrapped his hand around Elijah's wrist, belonging to the hand that had a grip around his neck. What was he going to do, kill him? Somebody had already beaten him to that. "No need to be so angry. I just saved you and this is how you repay me," he continued, waiting for Elijah's grip to loosen.

He could've dealt with the situation better. The teasing and the jokes probably didn't help. In fact, they probably hindered the process of getting Elijah to calm down, but it wasn't in Jude's interest to be logical. He had never been before, so it was too late to start now. "I'm Jude. I used to live here," I still do. That wasn't something Elijah really needed to know, but he would probably find out eventually. "Now, are you going to let me help you or are you going to keep cussing me out?"

Jude didn't really know what to expect. He could see Elijah had some emotional issues, as shown through his arguments with his father. Just because Jude was a stranger didn't mean he was going to be treated any better. But Jude did just risk going down into the basement to save the life of someone who really wasn't appreciative at all.