Home
The games
Resources
Links
About
Site map

« Back

Southend

13.

by MistThing, published on January 7, 2001

...Gabriel got his bike off the ferry, relieved to stand on dry land again. A ferry ride isn't such a great idea when your head hurts like hell, your eyes are red shot and you slept for about a couple of hours during the last forty-eight ones - he sneered at himself - luckily, my stomach wasn't carryin' much, either... Gabriel pushed his hair back, away from his eyes. "So...this is the island of Islay!" - he pointed out unenthusiastically.

- "Aye...the home of the whisky distilleries..." - replied Morgan.

- "I sure could use a drink!" - he sighed.

- "And I need to fix myself up a bit" - Morgan gave her clothes a disgusted look - "The 'Trout Fly' guest house is nearby, yah'll have yer whisky there an' I'll hit the little girls room."

- "Fine by me."

Gabriel parked his bike outside the small guest house at Charlotte street. "Let me carry this for you" - he grabbed her bag. "No, no need!" - she didn't let go of the bag - "What's wrong with yah? Stop actin' like a bloody gentleman!" He let go. "Suit yourself." I hope that Tape recorder I just managed to slide in there will do some good, he stated to himself quietly.

Morgan halted briefly at the lobby and turned to Gabriel. "You go on, order yer drink, and I'll go tidy myself up."

- "Sure, go ahead." Gabriel paused in the dining room entrance and watched her as she took something - keys? - from the guy at the reception desk and disappeared down the hall. He quickly followed. Now, that's not the ladies room! He smiled. 'Tidy myself up'... You're not exactly the type, Morgan... She went up the stairs, and unlocked room number 6 on the second floor. Havin' a room here already? - Gabriel wondered - Hey, I shouldn't complement myself so soon... She got that room for other reasons. He pressed his ear hard against the door, hearing only her muffled voice. She's probably talkin' on the phone. He heard her footsteps approaching the door and swiftly hid around a corner of the corridor. Yeah, here she is, alright. I hope my dumb luck played for me once again, and she didn't look inside her bag... yet. Gabriel hurried down the stairs and waited. Morgan approached the reception desk again to hand out the keys. She also was - Damn! - opening her bag! - Ah - Show time...

- " Wow there! Reception! " - Gabriel yelled from the top of his lungs - "Were you just gonna keep me waiting here for hours or what?"

He leaped to the reception desk, bumping deliberately into Morgan. Morgan's open bag fell to the floor, its contents spreading all over the place... Gabriel knelt down...his recorder was back in his pocket safe again, turned off, before anyone could perceive what just happened.

The reception guy looked frightened, staring at Gabriel over his desk. "Calm doon Sir! I dinnae git what yah're talkin' 'bout!"

- " What? " - yelled Gabriel angrily - "Ya don't even remember what I asked you to check out for me?"

- "Ah - Sir - I -"

- "Oh, just forget about it!" - Gabriel waved his hand crossly and helped Morgan to put her stuff back into her bag. "I'm sorry, Morgan - I'm just too damn tired, I guess..."

- "Yah'll pay me back later..." - Morgan smiled - "Don't yah worry 'bout it."

For some reason, Gabriel didn't like the tone in which she said it. They turned to the dining room.

- "Warm up a seat for me , will ya?" - Gabriel told her - "Now it's my turn to go into the little boys room..."

He checked under the two toilet doors to make sure that no one else was there. Then he locked the toilet room's entrance door from the inside, and pulled out his tape recorder. He rewound the tape and listened. Morgan's voice was muffled, and it was hard to make out the words - the first sentence was heard clear though - "Ne Obliviscaris!" He rewound so he could hear it again. It sounds like some kind of code or a password, decided Gabriel, She identifies herself for some one. He pressed 'Play' again. The rest of the conversation wasn't just muffled, but also definitely not in English. Among the foreign words he could recognize the names "Knight" and "MacAlister". Damn, cursed Gabriel, she's talkin' in some foreign language. And it sounds like an old foreign language. I'll have to get this translated somehow...

 

Last update: October 24, 2007


Print this page or access the printer friendly version
Bookmark with:
Bookmark this page with del.icio.us Delicious   Bookmark this page with Digg Digg   Bookmark this page with Facebook Facebook  Bookmark this page with Reddit Reddit  Bookmark this page with StumbleUpon StumbleUpon

« prev | next »