More To The Story, chapter three.
psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est?
Chapter One Chapter Two
Saturday, 4th November 1992.
Finley's perspective
Finley bopped his head along to the catchy beat of 'Psycho Killer' by Talking Heads as he sat up against the headboard of his bed, pondering. It had been about twenty minutes since you had abruptly ended the 3-hour phone call to head to work because you were MAJORLY late. In this extensive phone call, you had discussed many theories about the eerie, suspicious video which you and Finley believed to be related to Tommy's disappearance and had even shown Tommy himself - so you believe -, a shaved head, blindfolded with a bloody nose.
It had approximately been 5 days since Tommy had gone MIA, and during the entirety of those 5 days, the residents of the town had been truly shaken up and skittish. This never happened here, in Drellington- it was just a quaint, isolated town...right?
With an extremely low crime rate and a very trusted and secure police department, it was safe to say that the disappearance of little Tommy Parker came as a huge surprise to the town in its totality.
"So what the hell is going on?" He murmured, pushing his black-framed glasses back up the bridge of his nose, sighing as his eyes squeezed shut.
He was at a loss. How could all of this just be going under the radar? How is it that HE had stumbled across this horrific video and not the police? How is it that your laugh was just the sweetest-
"Finnie Bear!!" a pitchy voice called from downstairs, interrupting his lengthy train of thought. It was his aunt Maureen. "Finnie Honey?! Tea is ready, come n'join us in the dining room!" she continued to call once more, before retreating back to the dining room where she had previously been setting up with knives, forks and plates.
You see, Finley's Mom had never been around- ever since she had skipped town and dumped him on her brother Howard's doorstep carelessly when he was only 4 months old, hoping to finally catch her big break in Hollywood.
He knew remotely nothing about her, and most of the time he was fine with that. Although he got on alright most of the time without thinking about her...sometimes, when he lay awake at night in bed, unable to sleep for whatever reason...he thought about her and why she had to leave him behind, why she had denied the chance to start her new life in California with him.
He never wanted to feel that kind of refusal again, so...he shut most people out. His circle remained fairly small throughout the entirety of his high school experience, with his only friends being from the school band and the computer science club. And in all honesty, he liked it that way. He was happy with the few friends that he did have.
But somehow, even with his aunt, uncle, and friends present in his life...he still felt like a piece of him was still missing, he still felt empty.
Finally deciding to get out of his own head for a few minutes, he decided to get up from his bed and proceed downstairs, shouting "Coming!!"
He sat timidly at the dining table, his Aunt sitting opposite him with his Uncle Howie beside her. Picking up the knife from the table where it had been precisely put, along with the fork next to it and began cutting into the juicy chicken breast on his plate.
Howard speaks first, "So...who was that girl on the landline earlier? You got a secret girlfriend we don't know about now?" his tone teasing, but definitively curious. Finley nearly choked on the piece of chicken he had in his mouth before chewing it promptly and swallowing. "What girl? I have literally no idea what you're talking about." He questioned with the pitch of his voice coming out higher than usual- a universal indicator that he was indeed, lying.
Maureen's eyes lit up, "A girl!! that's new, what does she look like? where did you meet her-" RRIIINGGGGG!! RRRRIINGGG!! the telephone attached to the kitchen wall began to sound with shrill rings, and in that moment Finley felt as if God himself had spared him from the interrogative questions of his Aunt and Uncle.
"Ooh, let me go and answer that," Maureen voices, excusing herself from the dining table before heading out into the kitchen. "Hayes residence, how may I help you? Oh...pardon? I'm sorry, may I ask who's calling?... Hello?" Maureen places the phone back into place on the wall, her expression puzzled. She approaches the dining room table and speaks, "Someone started shouting at me in Russian on the damn phone, pardon my language- that's odd, right?"
Finley types away on his keyboard, determined to find some sort of answer as to why RUSSIANS were now calling his goddamn landline. This was BAD, really really bad. What if they had gotten to you? You had watched that video too. "Shit," he muttered, anxiety filled the entirety of his body, taking over.
Suddenly, an idea sparked inside of his head as he remembered that his uncle had set up a recording device on the telephone a few months ago after a scam call centre had cheated him out of $300 which made him extremely cautious when it came to people who called the house.
He needed to get that call, and quick.
The first thing he did, however, was log into AOL and send you a message.
ThisMustBeThePlace is now online.
ThisMustBeThePlace is typing...
ThisMustBeThePlace: Important news!! Call soon, hope you got home okay from work :)
Now, the phone call- and a Russian-to-English dictionary, that was vital in this case.
Finley practically flies down the flint-coloured carpeted stairs as he proceeds with his mission. Convince Howard to give him the recording of the weird, suspicious call they received at dinner time so he can translate it.
"Uncle Howie!! where are you?" he calls, walking into the living room where he finds only Maureen, sitting leisurely on the ivory floral patterned sofa watching TV whilst stroking the household cat, Eddie, an American shorthair with soft, dense grey fur with black stripes running all across his body. Eddie purrs as Maureen continues to pet him.
"Uhh...hey, where's Uncle Howie?" Finley asks, leaning against the doorframe and awaiting an answer- he inhales deeply, trying to regulate his breathing and catch his breath after running down the extensive flight of stairs that lead from the upstairs floor of the house, to the middle, and eventually to the ground floor.
She smiles tiredly, "He's in his workshop Finnie, he wouldn't tell me what he's doing but it's probably one of those cool science-y things he's planning on teaching the kids at school on Monday. Why? Everything okay?" she answers, eventually glancing away from the television and over to her nephew, concerned.
For context, Howie was a middle school teacher at Drellington Middle. He taught Science. He LOVED science, even. He was extremely dorky- which explains why Finley grew up to be the same, Raised around science, tech and crazy experiments- he really grew to love all things nerdy, all thanks to Howie.
His eyebrows raise, immediately dismissing her concern appreciatively. "Oh! yeah no, I'm okay- just need some help with...physics homework! yeah, that. Are you okay though? You look tired, not saying that in an offensive way of course! uhh-" he stutters, not meaning to come off as discourteous but she didn't take it that way at all, instead, she chuckled sweetly and shook her head.
"Finnie! Don't worry, you're correct in saying I look tired, cause I am! The only thing that's been keeping me awake is Eddie's purring honey, but alas, you're right I am tired, so I'm gonna head to bed n'hit the hay," she retorts, finally getting up from off of the sofa, Eddie in hand. She grabs the remote with her unoccupied hand and switches off the television, then tiredly treads over to where Finley is standing in the doorway.
"Goodnight, Finnie-bear." she smiles, ruffling his chestnut-blondish hair before brushing past him gently and hiking up the stairs.
"Night Maurie." he returns, smiling softly before he makes his way to his uncle's workshop.
"That last word there sounds like 'найден' which is spelt 'NAYDEN', look that up in there," Howie ordered, before placing the headphones back on his head, and pressing play again.
Finley flicks through the pages of the dictionary hastily, desperate to find the answer.
Yeaahhh, it's a long story to explain how they ended up translating Russian together in his uncle's workshop so I'll keep it short and sweet for you. Sound good? Excellent.
Finley found Howie in his workshop, no surprise there. He was surprised, however, to find his uncle already translating this dodgy Russian phone call by himself.
He just had to get in on this. God, he had so much to tell you later.
@stveharringtn AAAA chapter 3!! some insight into Finley's day and a little bit of backstory bc who doesn't love a bit of that eh?
OOO secret Russian codes, OOO angst, OOO Finley can't get you off of his mind OOOO.
love you darlings, more to come very soon! xxx
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