Grimwood II: Introduction/Blinded by Science and Attraction

								FEBRUARY 1990
							SOMEWHERE IN MIDDLE NEW ENGLAND

	A new year, a new decade. So far so good, Anon thought as he wandered the halls of Miss Grimwood's Finishing School for Ghouls. It had been a couple weeks since he'd last been there, and all of the ghouls had missed his presence, particularly Sibella, the fanged beauty who was now Anon's girlfriend.
	Anon walked up and down the dark hallways when he came across an open office door. He wasn't one to pry into other's business, but he often wondered what was behind some of these doors. Carefully shuffling inside, he saw that this office, while somewhat fairly-sized, was in a bit of a sorry state. There wasn't too much floor space to actually move around in on account of the two kennels that occupied one corner, the refrigerator in another, and the ramshackle desk that stood in the other. Looking at the kennels, Anon spotted a dog's food bowl. Picking it up, he wondered if at one point Miss Grimwood had pet dogs, or she employed someone that had some. Anon found a name printed on the side of this bowl while turning it in his hands; he didn't know if this was intended or a letter had worn off with age, but he was certain that this dog wasn't originally named 'Crappy' by its owner. He chuckled to himself as he set it down.
	As he exited, Anon remembered he had been asked by Elsa to help her in the lab with some things as the others were previously occupied with each other's projects. Knowing her issues with people arriving late, he bounded over to the lab door.

---

	“...zen we will add ze nightshade,” Elsa tittered excitedly, adding a few drops of a dark purple liquid to the gurgling mixture in the large flask, “und keep it moving around, Anon,” she said to her assistant, who was moving the vessel in a circular motion on the worktable, “zaht will keep ze fumes from melting a hole in ze ceiling.” Anon, his face shrouded in a surgical mask and tinted goggles, kept wondering just how he got talked into aiding in this clearly hazardous task.
	Before long, the already-swelling mixture began frothing violently, and Anon knew what was going to happen next. “Elsa,” Anon ventured worriedly, “whatever you just added to this, I think you put in too much!”
	Elsa laughed, “Nein, iz just part of ze process! All ze same,” she trailed off, glancing at the now-shaking flask, “we zhould probably retire to ze bunker...” With that, she grappled Anon by the strap of his smock and yanked him behind the arrangement of sandbags on a corner of the lab. Now behind cover, Anon grew increasingly worried as the shaking turned into a rumbling.
	“Is this normal procedure?”
	“Oh Ja, iz just about a daily occurrence!”
	Suddenly, behind the resounding gurgle of the flask, Anon swore he could hear the lab door groan open, along with a voice that was rendered mostly inaudible by the noise and the resulting explosion that filled the room with dark smoke. POW!

	“Aha!” Elsa exclaimed, emerging from the sandbags, “ You see? Progress!”
Anon poked his head out slightly, “Is it usually this destructive?”
	Before Elsa could reply, a shrill scream pierced the hazy air. The acrid cloud cleared, revealing a familiar figure: it was Sibella, her expression furious and her dress completely shredded from the flying shrapnel.
	“You’ve RUINED it!” Sibella yelled, “This was my best one!”
	“Ehm,” Elsa began, clearly shaken by Sibella’s sudden ferocity, “I..err, I could try und doktor it up. I’m good with ze needle!”
	While all this was going on, Anon peered over the sandbags at Sibella as she stood there arguing. Even through the dusty goggles and tattered shreds of dress, he could clearly see the lilac skin of her body. As her arms flung in her rage her abdomen, smooth and pallid, emerged from the gashes in its cottony shroud. The small glimpse of this, combined with the thought of what else there was to see of her nubile form made Anon’s heart quake, and he sank back behind the sandbags, breathing an astonished sigh.
	“If you can do it in less than an hour, fine--who’s THAT?!” Sibella spluttered, pointing at the dark-haired lump that disappeared behind the bunker.
	‘Oh, Christ,’ Anon though, ‘she noticed.’ He wanted to run to the rear entrance, but he would have to crawl, and there was no way he wouldn't go unnoticed.
	“This? Ach, iz just another body for spare parts--nothing more.” Elsa replied simply. She nudged Anon’s head sharply. Taking the hint, he slumped on his side as naturally as he could muster.
	“Humph,” Sibella grunted irritably, “I’ll let you clean this up, but meet me upstairs--you’ll be needed for a while.” With that, she turned in her heel and sulked up the stairs to the common room.

	“You were totally looking, weren’t you?” Elsa said cheekily down at Anon, who was still lying on his side.
	“N-no! I--” Anon blushed, but Elsa wasn’t fooled. “Frecher junge,” she grinned.

	The next couple weeks will be very interesting, Anon was sure.
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	Unfortunately, Anon was more or less correct. During his visits, he would awkwardly edge his way around the halls, particularly when he was near Sibella. It wasn’t long, however, before she caught on.
	“Sweetie, what’s happened to you?” she said as both sat on the old moth-eaten sofa in the common room, running her fingers gently through his hair. Matches sat in a little ball on the rug, snoring softly. Now, Anon would never lie to Sibella, but he still wasn’t sure of what to say or if he should say at all. He did have something to say that was, for the most part, true. “Part time stuff.”
	“Huh?”
	“I got a part-time job at Conrad’s Music Store in town.”
	“Ah. And it’s causing you this much stress?”
	“I mean, it gives me a little coin, sure--but Conrad’s been pretty short-fused as of late. He’s always on the horn fighting with record companies over shipments.”
	“I suppose you don’t want to get in the way of that?”
	“A’yuh.”
	Sibella giggled at Anon’s New England vernacular. She planted a kiss on his cheek, and said “Is that the reason why you took part-time?”
	“Well,” Anon replied, “It’s ONE reason.”
	“What’s the other?”
	“I still need time for you, don’t I?”
	At this, Sibella’s eyes flared softly, a look of total adoration in them. She leaned in and shared a long kiss with Anon. The usual shiver ran up his back as his lips felt the silky smoothness of hers. As this went on, the mental image of Sibella in her ruined and revealing dress returned to Anon's mind. 'Dammit, not now!' he screamed a his brain silently, but his brain would not comply. Immediately Anon's face flushed-more than it should for a kiss-and his heart began throbbing once again. He abruptly pulled away for a breath of air. Sibella sat bewildered.
	“A-anon, are you...?”
	 “Y-yeah, I'm... I'm fine.” He wiped a drop of sweat off his brow and looked at the face of his watch. “I, uh, gotta fly.” With a quick smooch on Sibella's cheek, he rose and strode to the door; the floating gloved hand opened it for him. “Anon, wait--” Sibella said after him, but he'd already gone, and the door closed on the now empty common room. Sibella was confused. “Why did he leave so suddenly?” she wondered aloud. An answer came from above in the form of an old painting. “ I think I know why,” it said with a high-pitched giggle. Sibella looked, and saw this paining had big wide eyes, which then revealed themselves to belong to Phantasma, who phased through the canvas and hovered down to her friend.
	“What do you know?” Sibella asked.
	“Well, y'know,” Phanty said with a wry grin, “boys' minds work differently, and--”
	“Oh, you stop that!” Sibella said defensively, but then she started to consider this. Up until this point, Anon hadn't displayed any behavior that could be that of, well, arousal. He seemed so well-reserved.
	“Told ya,” Phanty said matter-of-factly, “but I thought you knew?”
	“He's burnin' up when he's around you, Sibs,” Winnie piped up. She was exiting the washrooms, picking at her mass of gingery curls with a worn hair pick. She used this opportunity to tease her friend. “'Going batty', wouldn't 'cha say?”
	“Guys, cut it out!” Sibella said irritably.
	“Well, zhey're not exactly wrong,” Elsa said, coming down the stairs from the library where Tanis was studying, “zhere is a bit of a discrepancy in his behavior. “ The other girls sniggered among themselves while Sibella sat in anticipation. “Do you know what it is?”
	“Ehm, ja,” Elsa said, awkwardly grasping her elbow in her hand, “I know why.”
----------

	8:10. It was dark now, and it was almost time to close up. Anon sat with his feet up on the counter, his back turned away from the door. He had been reading the latest issue of Music Monthly between the times when customers would come in, but now the magazine sat on Anon's face as he rested. It wasn't much good, however, for he was still punching himself in the head over how he'd handled himself at the school. Has it really gotten to the point where he can't handle himself around Sibella?
	A sharp rapping on the door of the shop woke Anon with a start. He sat up, tossed the magazine on the counter, and walked around to the door. He prepared his 'we're-closing-in-a-few-minutes' spiel for this person until he saw who it was: it was Tug Roper! With a wide grin, he swung the door open for his friend.
	“Been a while, Corporal!” Anon said, reaching out his hand.
	“Oh, definitely,” Roper said, taking Anon's hand hand and pulling him in for a hug. “Hey, congrats on getting the job. Does it pay?”
	“Not a fortune, but ehh. I sometimes get some albums out of it.” Anon replied, taking his place behind the counter.
	“Solid!” Roper said, now standing in the A-D section of the CD shelves. As he scanned, Anon pushed for conversation. “Hows the rest of the outfit?”
	“Fantastic,” Roper replied as he walked back to the counter, his selection in hand. Anon reached under the counter and produced two cans of soda from the minibar. He handed one to Roper, who cracked it open. “Thanks.” Taking a swig, he continued, “Col. Calloway still thinks you should join up with us.”
	Anon popped his can open. “I might've helped to level a witch's mountainside home to the ground, but I'm no soldier.”
	“Wouldn't take much to make you into one, I'll tell you that much!' Roper said. “How're the ghouls?”
	“They're great—Miss Grimwood has been putting them through their paces in their schooling.”
	“Uh-huh,” Roper said, finishing off his can, “You and Sibella still seein' each other?”
	Anon looked down, scratching at the counter top. “Yeah, yeah...”
	“Why, what's up? Did you do the, uh...?” Roper said with a sly smile.
	“No! ...not yet.” Anon replied, turning a bit red, “but I'm kinda afraid that I might screw something up.”
	“Like what?”
	Anon told of what happened that day a couple weeks ago, what he saw, and how he couldn't stop seeing it. Roper got a long, hard laugh out of it, to Anon's annoyance. “Really?”
	“Sorry, man,” Roper said, “but honestly, I wouldn't worry about it.”
	“No?”
	“Nah. Just be cool about, don't let it overtake your overall image of her, and things'll be fine. Things happen. If you're getting hot over it, just mosey on over to the bathrooms, and--”
	“Alright, alright, I gotcha,” Anon said, and Roper laughed again. Glancing up at the clock, Roper stood upright. “Jeez! I don't wanna keep you held up, man.”
	“It's cool,” Anon said, his smile returning. He cashed out the CD, the latest offering from Crowded House, 'Temple of Low Men', and sent his friend on his way. When Anon finally locked up the shop, he felt relieved; he was certain he would do fine the next time he saw Sibella, and he was glad to see Roper and hear his advice.

	During the moonlit walk home, Anon's eyes wandered on to something very strange: on the snow-covered side of the road was a hole. Not like one would make if they had fallen in and left an imprint, no. It was an asymmetrical, cleanly melted hole in the snow. Peering inside, Anon could just barely make out a shiny viscous substance at the bottom. As he stood over it, he felt a mild heat coming off of it. He didn't know what it in the world it was, but he knew right away that it reeked—it was like methane with a little bit of decayed earth mixed in. He took a breath of fresh air. Whatever this stuff was, he hoped it would be there the next day. He thought that maybe he could collect a little bit of this for Elsa to look at. Maybe she had an answer.

	As he continued walking down the road, the warm, smelly liquid seeped into the soft earth and disappeared.

TO BE CONTINUED
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