Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Ballad of Mona Lisa
I Want to Believe
4 reviewsWith their unbelievable machines and a suspicious eye on all, the League had gained a reputation for being not only effective, but being a downright nuisance to the local peace.
2Original
The old church was one of the first buildings to be raised when Peaktown was settled, but time wore on and the small building was left vacant in favor of a newer and larger church that had better suited the growing, but still relatively small, town . With only about 40 families in the city, it was still accepted that everyone knew everyone else. Mayor Wilford was on a first name basis with the majority of the city, and so was everyone else for that matter. Quite possibly as famous as the mayor, however, was the leader of a group that had eccentric activities and interests to say the least.
It was the League of STEAM that prided itself with the supernatural goings on of the town. Everything from ghosts to therianthropy and trolls to undead concerned these brave men and women. With their unbelievable machines and a suspicious eye on all, the League had gained a reputation for being not only effective, but being a downright nuisance to the local peace. It was one thing to suspect that your house was haunted, it was another to have the League searching, poking, and electrocuting their way through it before they exterminated the problem and left poor Grandmama's parlor in a complete disarray. Of this enthusiatic bunch, Crackitus Potts was the leader and the chief nuisance, but a fair and courteous nuisance at that.
It was this very man that Mayor Wilford contemplated as he stood at the door of the old church. Stealing himself for the potential shock of some silly scandal to deal with he pulled on the old piece of oak and stepped inside. There was Potts explaining the dimensions of the building to an old spinster who had hopes of converting it into an orphanage. “Of course the League's services will be free of charge for you, Ms. Salander,” he beamed at the woman. “Anything to help a good cause! Now, by tomorrow this place should be done with inspection and any unwanted guests will be expelled.”
“Oh thank you, lad!” The antique maiden pinched the not-so-young man's cheek in fondness. “Now I must be off to buy some more supplies. Oh the children will be so happy here!” She hustled her way to the door where she was met by Mr. Potts' colleague JR just coming in. He held the door open for her with a polite smile and entered. His face fell, however, when he approached his boss.
“What's wrong, JR?” The younger team member stepped up to his leader and quietly handed him an unfolded telegram. Wilford curiously watched Potts as he perused the paper, his face increasingly frowning as he comprehended the contents of the message. He looked up with an expression of shocked sorrow. “Does the missus know?” His voice sounded raspy.
JR meekly nodded his head. “She was with me when the news arrived.” Wilford looked in confusion at the two men. “What's wrong?”
Potts glanced at him as though he had forgotten the mayor was there. “My nephew, Brennan, was murdered in Chicago. They're bringing in his body next week on the train... Poor lad's mother is still in Ireland, this will break her heart.”
Wilford blinked as he tried to think of something to say. “Oh... Well that is really a shame, my condolences to you and your family.”
“Thank you, mayor,” Potts said. “I'm sorry to leave you so suddenly but I really must get back to my wife.”
“Oh of course!” The mayor did his best to convey warmth and comfort in his smile. He looked, instead, like he had gas. Mr. Potts nodded his thanks and made his way out the door. He paused briefly at the threshold, “I'll see you tomorrow night at the party. Wilford nodded once, and the ghost hunter was gone.
He stood for a moment in the empty sanctuary a place that once housed so many promises and dreams now empty. He was not a particularly religious man, but the sense that this place was meant for something more than human purposes could not be gotten rid of. He surveyed for a moment the peeling paint on the walls, the dirty and dimmed windows, and the long since broken alter at the head of the aisle. With the slightest feelings of inadequacies and discomfort, he left the old church, only too thankful to be free of the the self-meditations that the place invoked.
-
The train moved slowly up to the foggy platform, the sun hidden from view behind the heavy clouds. It was not a busy station and only two figures stepped off in the small town. A black parasol rose through the steam of the engines as the woman beneath began to look for her friend. Behind her, the ghost paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. It had been years since he was last here, still little than a lad hoping to find a good job and make it to Chicago. Peaktown was no place to nurture sweet dreams of music and the heightened hopes of ragtime. He smirked at himself and let his eyes wander towards a group of people waiting to board and the family that was seeing them off. He didn't recognize any of them but noticed in surprise that a small girl, who was standing with the well-wishers, seemed to be staring right at him.
He blinked in confusion at her and watched in slow shock as she raised her hand and waved. He waved back and was about to walk to her when he heard Mary say behind him, “Ah, Ingrid! So good to see you again!” He glanced behind him to see Mary climb into a coach. In a moment of indecision he glanced back towards the train depot, wondering wether he should try to talk to the girl or continue following Mary... But the child was nowhere to be seen.
---
A/N: That does it! I'm gonna beg! PLEASE leave me a comment! It'd be nice to know that you readers are actually caring what happens next... then again, I don't have any cliff hangers... I'm really going to have to fix that.
It was the League of STEAM that prided itself with the supernatural goings on of the town. Everything from ghosts to therianthropy and trolls to undead concerned these brave men and women. With their unbelievable machines and a suspicious eye on all, the League had gained a reputation for being not only effective, but being a downright nuisance to the local peace. It was one thing to suspect that your house was haunted, it was another to have the League searching, poking, and electrocuting their way through it before they exterminated the problem and left poor Grandmama's parlor in a complete disarray. Of this enthusiatic bunch, Crackitus Potts was the leader and the chief nuisance, but a fair and courteous nuisance at that.
It was this very man that Mayor Wilford contemplated as he stood at the door of the old church. Stealing himself for the potential shock of some silly scandal to deal with he pulled on the old piece of oak and stepped inside. There was Potts explaining the dimensions of the building to an old spinster who had hopes of converting it into an orphanage. “Of course the League's services will be free of charge for you, Ms. Salander,” he beamed at the woman. “Anything to help a good cause! Now, by tomorrow this place should be done with inspection and any unwanted guests will be expelled.”
“Oh thank you, lad!” The antique maiden pinched the not-so-young man's cheek in fondness. “Now I must be off to buy some more supplies. Oh the children will be so happy here!” She hustled her way to the door where she was met by Mr. Potts' colleague JR just coming in. He held the door open for her with a polite smile and entered. His face fell, however, when he approached his boss.
“What's wrong, JR?” The younger team member stepped up to his leader and quietly handed him an unfolded telegram. Wilford curiously watched Potts as he perused the paper, his face increasingly frowning as he comprehended the contents of the message. He looked up with an expression of shocked sorrow. “Does the missus know?” His voice sounded raspy.
JR meekly nodded his head. “She was with me when the news arrived.” Wilford looked in confusion at the two men. “What's wrong?”
Potts glanced at him as though he had forgotten the mayor was there. “My nephew, Brennan, was murdered in Chicago. They're bringing in his body next week on the train... Poor lad's mother is still in Ireland, this will break her heart.”
Wilford blinked as he tried to think of something to say. “Oh... Well that is really a shame, my condolences to you and your family.”
“Thank you, mayor,” Potts said. “I'm sorry to leave you so suddenly but I really must get back to my wife.”
“Oh of course!” The mayor did his best to convey warmth and comfort in his smile. He looked, instead, like he had gas. Mr. Potts nodded his thanks and made his way out the door. He paused briefly at the threshold, “I'll see you tomorrow night at the party. Wilford nodded once, and the ghost hunter was gone.
He stood for a moment in the empty sanctuary a place that once housed so many promises and dreams now empty. He was not a particularly religious man, but the sense that this place was meant for something more than human purposes could not be gotten rid of. He surveyed for a moment the peeling paint on the walls, the dirty and dimmed windows, and the long since broken alter at the head of the aisle. With the slightest feelings of inadequacies and discomfort, he left the old church, only too thankful to be free of the the self-meditations that the place invoked.
-
The train moved slowly up to the foggy platform, the sun hidden from view behind the heavy clouds. It was not a busy station and only two figures stepped off in the small town. A black parasol rose through the steam of the engines as the woman beneath began to look for her friend. Behind her, the ghost paused for a moment to take in his surroundings. It had been years since he was last here, still little than a lad hoping to find a good job and make it to Chicago. Peaktown was no place to nurture sweet dreams of music and the heightened hopes of ragtime. He smirked at himself and let his eyes wander towards a group of people waiting to board and the family that was seeing them off. He didn't recognize any of them but noticed in surprise that a small girl, who was standing with the well-wishers, seemed to be staring right at him.
He blinked in confusion at her and watched in slow shock as she raised her hand and waved. He waved back and was about to walk to her when he heard Mary say behind him, “Ah, Ingrid! So good to see you again!” He glanced behind him to see Mary climb into a coach. In a moment of indecision he glanced back towards the train depot, wondering wether he should try to talk to the girl or continue following Mary... But the child was nowhere to be seen.
---
A/N: That does it! I'm gonna beg! PLEASE leave me a comment! It'd be nice to know that you readers are actually caring what happens next... then again, I don't have any cliff hangers... I'm really going to have to fix that.
Sign up to rate and review this story