Thread: Miss Murder [ Bear & LaughtersAssassin ]

size-2 Death, her mother had once explained, was not lifes greatest tragedy but lifes greatest adventure. Anne Caskey Vaughn had been a woman to see all of creation with the eyes of a child, so ready to take on the next challenge and the new day that it was almost impossible to imagine a world in which she did not inhabit. But yet here sat her daughter, Annes one and only offspring, half-listening to the gentle murmur of please, call me Brandon, talking about What was he talking about again? Miss Lucille? Do you understand what Im saying? Hed stopped, his brows furrowed just a bit and his eyes clouded with concern, though she couldnt for the slightest understand what he was concerned about. Lucie caught herself, glancing up from her gently folded hands in her lap, eyes confused for a second as she looked around at the unfamiliar room lined with books that were neatly aligned in his perfectly organized office. Im sorry, I was Could you come again? Brandon offered her a sympathetic smile, I was saying that the contents of your fathers will left everything that he owned in your mothers possession. Since she has passed as well and had no will, everything of hers and your fathers now goes to the next of kin You are the next of kin. He shuffled the papers that were on his desk in between them, setting them into a neat stack before he continued, The estate- Empty house. Empty rooms. Is now your property. The company- Vaughn Industries, where her father had spent all of his life and love, is now under your control. And, of course, the fortune- Blood money. Empty dollars that backed empty promises from an empty soul, is all yours. Do you understand? Lucie had no response at first, her long silence troubling but her lips forming a soft and forced smile, Yes, thank you Brandon. She murmured. The rest of the visit was full of static in her mind, his words blurring out in her brain until she couldnt tell one from the other. It was all technicalities and legalities, things that she didnt need to hear and things she could never hear again. Three weeks had passed since then. Great psychologists stated that there were five stages of grief and loss. During her meeting with Brandon, she had been in the first stage - denial and isolation. Even with his words ringing in her ears she couldnt find the urge to believe that her parents were gone. It couldnt be true. Her father, yeah. But her mother? No, that woman had been an unstoppable force of nature. She was as constant as the seasons and as powerful as a hurricane. She was a storm and her father He was a tornado -- destruction. Days later she had transitioned towards anger. Her mother had left her, just up and abandoned her with With what? Money that she didnt want? A company that she didnt know how to run? A house full of people that only came for the paycheck? What in the hell did she have left? A life of empty luxuries? Shed sunk to low that she hadnt seen since her young teen years - broken vases littered the hallways and the wallpaper was scratched, destroying everything that had reminded her of her mothers touches in the house. At the end of her fit, she was just as unhappy as she had been before, moving immediately into bargaining. Lucie lay curled up in a ball at the foot of her stairs for hours after that. The servants had found her, her face splotched with red and eyes rimmed with it as well. Her face had been pale and the only thing she could murmur had been, Please, please, please. She didnt know who she was begging, but she would have given up everything just for a minute of having her back. Depression had been her silent phase, lingering in the rooms that she hadnt destroyed that her mother loved. The gallery filled with artwork, the small library that held her favorite books, and even her bedroom, which had been stripped long ago of anything that had been too personal. If it werent for books then Lucie would have lost herself during that time. Instead, the books had helped her find herself. Romance novels, poorly written but wonderfully invigorating. It was through the many lives of the books that she found her own life again, and those were what moved her on to acceptance. With the acceptance, she had come to her own conclusions about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness. Anne Vaughn had been right about many things, but never more right about death. It was a grand adventure and she had moved on to it. She was in a better place now, Lucie told herself. But yet Lucie was still here, trodding along after her mothers footsteps like a lost puppy and wishing that she had embarked with her. That was how she found 1-800-SUICIDE Service. It was grim, she knew, to wish for death, but even more so to know that she would never experience one of lifes greatest adventures - love. It was then that she had written a short but courteous e-mail to the private address listed on the website. She didnt go over the details of what she wanted, instead requesting that they speak about it privately. It wasnt long before she received a date, time, and place to meet with the man that would be her murderer. She had dressed in clothing that was more suitable for a funeral than a meeting with her own Grim Reaper, but her stomach was full of butterflies in a way that was by no means nervous about dying. Lucie was scared of many things, but death was not one of them. She arrived early, finding the agreed upon restaurant to be a place that she would not have come to on any other circumstances than this. But it was Fitting. After all, didnt you often meet people you loved in strange places? Lucie picked a booth that gave her a perfect view of the door, ordering herself a small glass of white wine to calm her nerves and soothe her dry mouth with something wet, sweet, and mind-numbing. And now, she would only Have to wait. size