2019-07-20 - The Ringmistress

Tonight, while her office and home is ravaged, while her bed is stalked with waiting company, Lilith is in the woods. Here's how that happened.

The night before, after having late dinner with Michael in the shop during his lunch hour, Lilith closed up shop. She went upstairs. She packed a backpack with some things, she crept out of the back of the shop on foot and snuck through the alley to the trailer park in the dark.

That night, Lilith slept in the trailer for the first time in over a decade. Hank wasn't there. He has a new ladyfriend taking care of his beaten ass since hospital discharge and he's mooching off of her until she learns better.

The next morning, Lilith takes some things into the woods, very early. Then she goes to the trailer, showers, goes to work for a while. Byron is casing the place. She knows he's been hanging around watching for days now. Of course he is. It's not just about her or Grant now. No. He wants it. He wants to take it away. He wants to be her hero again and save her from-- NO. Scratch that. He WANTS it for HIMSELF.

Selfish bastard. He's always wanted what other people have.

People have seen it. They'll want it too. And how long til even Carver's fear and resolve melts into the desire? No no no no.

It's hers. It came to her for a reason. She touched it for a reason. She had no choice in the matter, now she knows why. It's almost time for her to wear it.

Lilith has no idea Isabella had a gun and was on a rampage that could threaten her life. No one warned her. But it doesn't matter. Lilith sees shadows and images coming for her in the corners of every room. She's already on the defensive and offensive, turning every inch of paranoia in her bones into action. Lilith has always been conditioned to run, she's always been ready to hide, she's always been ready to fight. Every stubborn, livewire bone in her body aches to protect her precious possession with everything she has.

Byron didn't think she could protect the stone. Game on, motherfucker.

He has no idea all the things she can do when she puts her mind to it, all the abuse she can take, all the self-inflicted wounds she can gouge just to see something through for the greater good. Or... does he? He might. He's the most dangerous of all of them because he knows what she's actually capable of, deep down, the way her very mettle is made for action in the middle of madness. Her savior is her predator now.

Lilith can't stay at the shop again. She knows that. So during the day, she unwittingly gives Byron the hunches and inklings he needs to see a hole. Lucky, clever him, right? He thinks the box is locked inside. It's not. She leaves during the early evening out of the back while the temp is there. Her windows above the shop stay dark, even though she wasn't seen leaving. And the temp tells a man that Lilith is out for the evening when he comes asking about her (Byron's man). The temp locks up. The shop is broken into later that night.

Where, oh where, is Lilith? Where is that box, that beautiful (troublesome) gem, where is that ring?

Those things she dragged into the woods were her old camping things that they used to use when they were younger. Her and Byron used to share this very sleeping bag when they were so much smaller. Lilith finds somewhere far away and sheltered from people, somewhere familiar, somewhere forgotten to most everyone that knew it once, somewhere safe. For now.

Lilith still has things together enough to plan and do all this. But her sanity is starting to slip and the seams of the delusion are starting to overlap with the reality that made it easy to keep up the smoke and mirrors for a while. Her paranoia tells her that she's apt to tip someone off if she leaves phone contact an option, or maybe they could track her with it! She sets it to airplane mode to turn off all the calls at some point during this evening. She doesn't get the texts from Byron checking on her, all calls go to voicemail from then onward.

Therefore, when the breach alert goes off for her back door in the pawn shop that night, she doesn't have a signal to receive the live alert. She's playing music and cuddled up sweetly laid out in her tent with the flap open to alert her to any approaching presence, perfectly content as she strokes the box, camping out alone and safe in the summer night.

No. Not alone. She's talking to it. She's telling it about the steps she's taken, the steps she'll continue to take, all to keep it safe and hers.

In the morning, very early, Lilith sweeps her phone back to get signal and sees the missed messages from Byron filled with concern. She smirks a little. She thinks about the ways she'd normally let him play her like a fiddle, just like this. She owes him. But she doesn't owe him what's so rightfully hers! Then she sees the camera notification about activity on her security system that's linked to her phone. She checks the live feed that comes from the overhead camera in the light fixture, the one that Byron didn't know about and missed.

Lilith sees a mess. She backs up the feed and watches the break in, the wrecking, the way the figure leaves to go upstairs for the loft instead of leaving. Her eyes narrow. She's still together and sane. She knows she should pay attention to the details so she can figure out who this is daring to break into her place. She can't focus. She knows she should go investigate, maybe, or move locations, maybe even leave town! But. But. But...

Her phone goes back to airplane mode after that interlude. It's too early in the morning for her to see Byron without his mask leaving mid-morning through that camera surveillance, maybe she'll see that later. She doesn't see the texts warning her about what happened to Magnolia later, either.

She wants to put on the ring.

So she does.

The birds chirp with morning. The forest is lovely in summertime. Lilith is wild-eyed and lovely too.

She's not perfectly fine.