Celestia and DealerAnon Pt. 30

>Rounding the corner, you come face-to-face with Ty and Santiago, the former feebly kicking at the snow while blowing into his hands, Santiago still as stoic as ever
>Looking up at you, Ty's face adopts a welcoming grin as he waves at you
>''Hey, man! How'd it go? This the place?''
>You return the wave and give Santiago a nod, the Latino responding with a small smile
''Yeah, I think so.''
>Procuring a cigarette, you light it and take a deep drag, savoring the sensation of the hot smoke pouring into your lungs
>''Hey, brother, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or some shit.''
>You shake your head and send a globule of spit flying into the snow
''I don't know, man. Shit.''
>''What do you mean?''
>Suppressing a shudder, you stay quiet for a moment, not sure of what to say
>Finally breaking the silence with a sigh, you do your best to put your feelings into words
''Alright, so this is going to sound crazy, okay? But I just want you to listen.''
>''Uh, yeah, bro. Go ahead.''
''Well, it's just that… I mean, I think there's something wrong with the place.''
>Giving you a concerned look, Ty tucks his hands into his pockets
>''Something wrong? What do you mean, man?''
>Giving a sigh, you cast a brief glance behind you just to make sure nothing followed you from the house
''Well, I mean, you know all those horror movies, where the house is all possessed and shit, right?''
>''Uh, yeah, man, I do. American Horror Story, the Conjuring, all that. Why?''
''Well, it's just… Alright, so this is gonna sound stupid, and crazy, and all that, but just bear with me, aight?''
>''Sure, bro.''
''Okay, so, I think that place is haunted. For real.''
>After a moment of silence, Ty and Santiago both crack grins at you, clearly amused
>''Bull-shit, man. What the fuck you been smoking, bro? Haunted? For real?''
''I'm not joking, and I ain't smoked shit, aight? I'm telling you, man, that place is bad fucking mojo.''
>''Ghosts? Really? Jesus Christ, man.''
>Ty chuckles quietly, shaking his head as Santiago walks up to you, a huge grin on his face
>Staying silent, the amused look on his face quickly morphs into a shocked one
>Looking over your shoulder, he points at the street behind you
>''Holy shit, ese, you seeing what I'm seeing?''
''Yeah, yeah, real fucking funny. But I'm telling you, man, that place just feels wrong.''
>''So, what you gonna do, ese? Drive back home and watch Barney or some shit?''
>Santiago and Ty both laugh at your annoyed expression, and you shake your head, resentment evident in your voice
''Really fucking funny, guys. Har-har. Look, all I'm saying is that I don't want to spend any more time there than I have to, alright?''
>Ty walks up to you and gives a small 'Boo', shit-eating grin still firmly in place
>''Come on, bro. You really trying to tell us that you believe in ghosts? I mean, shit, Anon, I know you is paranoid, but really?''
''Alright. So you don't believe me? That's okay. But mark my fucking words, man, you ain't gonna be laughing for long.''
>''Sure, nigga. Whatever you say.''
>Not bothering to reply, you stub out your cigarette, walking to the car
''Hey, Santiago, you mind opening this? Gotta unload my pockets.''
>Walking up to the car and unlocking it, the Latino gives you a smug grin
>''For sure, vato. Hey, you think there's a ghost in the car? Clutch been acting up again, you know?''
''Fuck you.''
>Santiago and Ty both chuckle quietly at your tone, and you start emptying the contents of your pockets into the back seat
>Turning back to the duo, you slam the door shut, your pockets now much lighter
>The only thing left is your gun, the chrome piece resting in your hoodie
>Procuring the .45, you briefly check the magazine, racking the slide and giving the hammer a flick
>Satisfied with the smoothness of the action, you slap the magazine in and stow the piece, feeling slightly calmer than before
>You're still buzzing pretty hard from the coke, but the creepy feeling from the house is now gone
>''Hey, vato, you think I should bring a piece?''
>Santiago turns to you with a questioning look on his face
>You shrug in response, not sure what to say
''Well, can't hurt, man. Your choice.''
>Santiago gives you a wide grin as he opens the door, his hands finding their way to the glove compartment
>Chuckling quietly, he turns around, hefting his shooter, and you feel your mouth drop open in surprise
''Whoa…''
>Judging by his tone, Ty is evidently as surprised at the weapon as you are
>''Shiieet, bro. Where'd you find that?''
>Nonchalantly racking the slide on the MAC-10, Santiago whistles peacefully as he slams in a large magazine and fiddles with the folding stock
>''Eh, you know. Connections, vato.''
>You whistle appreciatively, eyeing the smooth gray submachine gun in the Latino's hand
''Whoa. Just whoa. That's a real pretty piece you got there, bro.''
>His eyes softening, he carefully kisses the gun before stowing it into his down jacket
>''Yeah, I know, bro. Real beauty, and full auto at that. I take care of her, and she takes care of me, eh?''
>You chuckle, not able to tear your eyes off the bulge in his jacket
''Yeah, I can see that, man. I mean, she looks almost mint, man.''
>Santiago chuckles and shakes his head
>''Nah, vato, nah. Been with me for five years now, and she ain't ever let me down.''
>You stand in silence for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed over your own gun
>The .45 was beautiful, no doubt, but there was a kind of rugged beauty to Santiago's gun
>It was awe-inspiring, to say the least, the sheer murderous power hidden under the gray metal exterior something you'd never seen before
>''So, how 'bout we start getting pumped, ese?''
>Opening the door again, Santiago motions for you and Ty to jump inside, and turns on the sound system
>You jump in eagerly, Ty slumping down and closing the door with much less enthusiasm than you or Santiago
>Turning to Ty with a quizzical expression, Santiago pats him on the shoulder
>''Hey, you okay, homes? You look really nervous, you know?''
>Looking closer, you can see that Ty is looking decidedly ill
>''I don't know, man. It's just, well, how about we try this without violence, alright? Nobody has to get hurt, you know?''
>Surprised, you notice that Ty's tone is almost pleading, and that your friend looks worried, to say the least
>He sighs and runs his hand through his hair
>''I mean, as a last resort, you know? If the guy tries to attack or something, yeah?''
>You nod in sync with Santiago, the Latino looking slightly miffed for some reason
>Throwing the aux cord your way, he shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road
>''Yeah, okay, homes. Only if we need to.''
>There's something threatening about his tone, but you can't quite put your finger on it
>Putting the thought aside for later, you plug in the aux cord, music welling from the subwoofer in the trunk
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdrcdWqyK-4
>Bobbing your head softly to the music, you feel the phone vibrating in your hand
>'One new message from Scootaloo'
>'hey anon what r u doing :)'
>You sigh softly, unsure of what to reply
>What the hell were you going to tell her anyway?
>Yeah, hi, just getting ready to kill a man?
>You know, the usual, getting hyped for a possible murder?
>Rescuing your old principal, guns blazing?
>Yeah, no
>Quickly tapping out 'jus chillin', you put down the phone and turn to Santiago
''So, bro, how you wanna do this?''
>He gives you a grin and pats his pocket
>''Guns blazing, vato. What we facing?''
''Some old lady and that fat guy. I don't know about anyone else. But-''
>You adopt a serious expression, lowering the volume from your phone
''Man, the house is seriously fucked up, alright? It messes with your head, you know?''
>Santiago gives a short chuckle and takes off his bandana, tying it around his face, the cloth muffling his reply
>''Shit ese, I almost forgot about that shit. You really believe that, huh?''
''I'm positive. This isn't a fucking joke, man. That place really fucks with you. It makes you paranoid, man.''
>''Shit man, maybe we gotta call the Ghostbusters.''
''Hardy-fucking-har.''
>Rummaging in the back seat, you grab a beer and open the can, the piss-yellow liquid flowing into your mouth
>Savoring the bitter taste, you turn back to Santiago, the Latino currently fiddling with his weapon
''Anyway, where do you want to enter?''
>The Latino shrugs, gaze still fixed on the piece in his hand
>''All the same, ese.''
''Yeah, okay, but we got to plan this shit. Ain't no room for error here.''
>Ty clears his throat and turns to you, the nervous look on his face now mostly gone
>''How about this? We knock on the door, say we that guy's friends or something, find out where he keeps the chick, bail her out, and drive off.''
''How we gonna find out where she is, man?''
>''Shit, man, there's more than decorative value to that piece, right? Scare the motherfucker, then boom. Mission completed.''
>You purse your lips, trying to think of an alternative
>After a short period of silence, you give up
''Sure, why the fuck not. Sounds good to me. Santiago?''
>The Latino merely gives a small nod, his fingers gently tracing the grooves on the handle of the gun
>To you, he seems on edge, to say the least
>You don't really know why, to you Ty's plan is good enough for now
>He does want to go in 'guns blazing', but avoiding violence seems like a good plan to you, despite wanting to take revenge on the kidnapper
>Even though he deserves some kind of punishment, you still don't want to kill anybody
>You'd never been a supporter of senseless violence
>''Hey, Anon, you want to hand me a beer?''
>Shaken from your thoughts, you nod at Ty
>Procuring a beer from the almost empty case, you hand it to him, leaning in between the front seats
>Nodding thankfully, he grabs the can, the aluminum tin hissing as he pulls the tab
>''Thanks. Uh, Anon?''
''Yeah?''
>Ty is looking intently at your face, his dark brown eyes scanning you
>''You got something there.'
>Leaning in closer, he puts a finger to the underside of your nose
>Shocked at the sudden contact, you pull back, just in time to see Ty's eyes widen in surprise
>''No. You didn't. You fucking didn't.''
>His expression changes from surprised to angry in a split second as he looks at the small specks of white on his finger
>Shit
>This isn't part of the plan
''Hey, listen, I can-''
>''What the fuck, man? I thought you quit the shit already!"
>Ty is now positively furious, and you're thankful for the seat between you and your friend
>Santiago has turned his attention to you, and you fidget nervously, not sure of what to say
''Yeah, but, you know…''
>''No, I don't! Anon, I really have no fucking idea why you're doing this shit again!''
>Ty huffs in frustration, clearly angry
>''So please, en-fucking-lighten me, man! Why?''
>You take a deep breath to calm yourself down, trying desperately to think of a reason
>To be honest, you really have no idea why
''Well, it's just…''
>''Just what, man?''
''Well, after Celestia disappeared, I had to come up with something, you know? And so I just-''
>''So, after the bitch ran away, you thought that it'd be a good idea to start snorting again? Is that what this is? I mean, I been following you like a fucking dog, aight?''
''Yeah, I know, and I apprec-''
>''And now you telling me that this is all some fucking coked-up invention of yours? Jesus Christ, nigga, how you even know she in there?"
''I don't know-''
>''Exactly! You have no fucking idea!"
>Ty's face is now livid, spittle flying into your eyes as he yells at you
>"And now, we here, planning a fucking murder just 'cause your ass couldn't wait a single day for the bitch to come back! I mean, Jesus Christ, I heard about clingy bitches, but this? It's-''
''Fuck you, man! You don't know what it's like, okay?''
>Ty sneers at you and gives a mocking laugh
>Santiago is still as silent as ever, his gaze moving between you with a calculating stare
>''What what's like, man? Losing somebody? Yeah, I been there, okay? I lost so many people it ain't even funny no more, okay? But you know what's really hard?''
>Not waiting for a reply, Ty draws a deep breath, his tone softening
>''You know how hard it was to get you off that shit in the first place, man?"
''I-I don't remember, okay?''
>Your gaze shifts to the floor of the car, regret burning you from inside
>Ty sighs and slumps back into his seat, running his hands over his face
>''I mean, it took months, okay? You were always trying to come up with excuses to do more and shit, remember? And then, that one day you told me you didn't want the yayo anymore, I couldn't have been happier.''
''Y-yeah, I think I remember.''
>Turning to you, his voice hoarse, he shakes his head in disappointment
>''And you know why I was so happy? You know why I was by your side through all that shit?''
>You remain silent, a burning feeling in your chest
>'''Cause I don't want anybody else dying, man. I don't want to lose you, okay? We been friends for way too long for you to just OD on me, you know?''
"Yeah, I know, okay? And I'm sorry, man. It just… well, it seemed like a good idea, you know?''
>Ty sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, hands clearly shaking
>''Come on, man. You been off the shit for, what, two years now?''
''And five days.''
>Your voice sounds incredibly hoarse, the tears forming behind your eyelids testament to your sorrow
>''Yeah. Two years and five days. And now you're back here, fucking-''
>''Shut the fuck up. Both of you.''
>Santiago interrupts Ty's tirade, the Latino staring at you with unparalleled intensity
>Not giving either of you time to continue, he presses on, annoyance evident in his voice
>''Alright. So, Anon's been doing coke. Big fucking deal.''
>''Yeah, it is a big-''
>''It's a big deal 'cause you make it one, alright? Yeah, he's been snorting, but shit ain't gonna change just 'cause you bitch at him, aight?''
>''And you-''
>Santiago turns to you, determination clear on his face
>''You gonna just sit there and cry, or you gonna take the lead?''
''I'm not-''
>''You was gonna. Now, either we go in there and TCOB, or we drive home. What it gonna be, homes?''
>Checking his gun for the final time, Santiago turns his eyes to the road
>"Eyes on the prize, vato. You wanna find her, you better go for it.''
>In the dim light of the Impala, you see something almost resembling an encouraging smile on his face
>''Now, we gonna do this or what?''
>Wiping your eyes, determination in your heart, you smile at him after a moment
''Yeah. Hell yeah.''
>''Ty, you in, ese?''
>Sighing, Ty runs his fingers through his hair
>''Shit nigga. I guess I have to. But-''
>Turning to you, Ty's expression remains bitter
>''We gonna talk about this later, man. And when we do, you better have a good reason for me not to kick your ass.''
''Kick my-''
>''Save it, vato. Now-''
>Pumping the clutch, Santiago steers the car onto the road, the stereo erupting into song again
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgO6iYpdTPI
>''Better get fucking ready, aight?''

>Sitting silently in the back seat as the street lights pass by, your heart rate picks up again
>You are definitely feeling nervous
>Whether it's the close call with Ty or the fact that you're about to possibly commit a murder is beyond you
>Both of them are fearsome prospects
>Committing a murder, despite your thirst for revenge, isn't anything you want to do
>Losing a friend, especially one as close as Ty, is something you want even less
>You do understand his reasoning, however
>He'd been there for you when no-one else was, guiding you through the quagmire of addiction for months
>All the times you'd gone into stimulant psychosis, he'd never bailed on you
>He had always been there to pick you up, to lend a helping hand
>And you could swear to God that the happiest you'd seen a man was when you told him you quit
>Truth is, you don't know what to do
>You have a feeling just an apology isn't going to cut it this time
>But how are you supposed to make it up to him?
>Shaking you from your thoughts, Santiago steps out of the car, the gun now a bulge in his pocket
>Sighing, you follow suit, slamming the door behind you
>Standing just outside the yard, Ty soon joins you, his expression masked by the scarf on his face
>Cursing mentally, you berate yourself for forgetting your bandana at home
>Something to mask your face would be incredibly handy now
>Still, no sense in crying over spilled milk
>You have no idea what this Lawrence guy is like, or why he's kidnapped Celestia, for that matter
>But you have a feeling that stalling for time now would only lead to things getting ugly
>Turning to you, Santiago scratches his chin, his hands surprisingly steady
>Especially when compared to yours
>''So, we gonna do this, or what?''
>Sighing, you take a long look at the house, already feeling it's presence in the back of your head
''Yeah. No backing down now.''
>You shake your head, trying to clear the oppressive mist from your brain, and take off toward the house at a rapid pace
>Ty and Santiago follow you silently, the former clearly nervous
>Whether it's what you're about to do or the house worming it's way into his skull you don't know
>But he's looking decidedly ill, eyes flitting nervously from window to window, as if expecting something to pop out at any moment
''Hey. Ty. You feeling it?''
>Your voice is barely more than a whisper, but seems absurdly loud in the stillness of the yard
>He merely gives you a small nod, his expression masked by his scarf
>Again, Santiago seems completely unaffected by whatever's got you spooked
>Turning to you, he pulls down his bandana to reveal an impassive expression
>''Hey, ese, there any rope around?''
''Uh, yeah. I think I saw some in the van. Why?''
>Waltzing over to the van, he looks around for a moment before testing the door
>Opening it with a relieved smile, he briefly rummages inside, procuring a coil of thick rope
>Quietly closing the door, he stows the rope into his pocket
>''Gotta have something to use on the lady, eh?''
''Oh. What you planning, bro?''
>''Gag her and tie her up, homes. Can't have her following us, you know?''
''Hm. Sounds good, I guess. Ty, you ready?''
>As you reach the door, Ty turns to you, worry evident on his face
>''Shit man. You weren't lying when you said the house feels weird.''
>He shudders briefly and gives a weak chuckle, looking nervously at the darkened windows
''Yeah, ain't funny anymore, huh?''
>''Yeah, yeah, fuck you too. All I know is, we better make this quick. This place is bad mojo, man.''
''Yeah. No shit. What about you, bro?''
>You pat Santiago's shoulder briefly to gain his attention, the Latino shrugging in response
>''Dunno, ese. I ain't feeling shit. It's just a house, man. Anyway-''
>Hovering his hand over the doorbell, he turns to you, his expression a stoic mask
''You gonna stand there pissing your pants all day, or do what we came here to do?''
>You give him a shaky nod, and the Latino rings the doorbell
>Instantly, the lights flick on inside, and you take your place in front of the door, your two friends flanking you
>You suppress a shudder, nervously looking behind you to make sure you aren't being watched
>The house felt oppressive before, but with Santiago ringing the doorbell, you somehow feel like it's turned it's attention to you
>Silently watching, judging, waiting for the right moment to strike
>You know it's stupid, but there is something wrong with the place, to say the least
>Interrupting your thoughts, the door slowly creaks open, your heart rate picking up again
>Peeking out with a confused expression on her face, the gray old lady scans each of you with worry evident in her eyes
>''C-can I help you, uh, gentlemen?''
>Putting on your best attempt at a warm smile, you hold your hand out to her, somehow managing to keep it from shaking
''Good evening, madame. Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, Jesus Christ?''