The Underworld Vagabond NaNoWriMo 2024 Novel

Prologue

The Lambert house finally fell silent at two in the morning when the last of the guests settled down for the night. The men on Laurie’s father’s side of the family fell onto the spare beds and sofa when the last of the drinks were finished off. The women retired much earlier, albeit to cry amongst themselves over the sudden silence left behind by Laetitia Lambert. Laurie’s parents stayed up as much as they could as they camped outside their daughter’s bedroom. If anyone was going to get hit the hardest out of the loss, it would be her.

All but one room was deathly quiet as the night purged on. The bedroom itself, where Laurie Lambert was huddled in her duvet covers, stifling sobs and hiccups as she tried to keep her voice down. Yet it was impossible when her greatest hero died mere days ago, without so much as a warning or even a look to let her know that their time together would be cut short before Laurie would make it to secondary school. Laetitia really did try to hold out as long as she did. She wanted to see her granddaughter in her oversize school blazer and school bag like all the other First Years that started out their tenure in big school. She made it a point to her daughter – Laurie’s mother – to be the first with a copy of the photographs taken of the little girl when the time came. And that was all before she would go to university, with Laetitia pinning her name down nearly a decade early for the same privileges. Her mother often joked that Laetitia should go ahead and adopt her granddaughter for herself.

Those jokes will never be made again. Lydia Lambert would now and forever remain Laurie’s biological mother. Laetitia will never have the chance now that she was six feet under the Lambert estate. And Laurie couldn’t stand a single bit of it.

The hours willed away painfully slow. Laurie felt sick from the crying and was restless beyond belief. There was no way she was accepting this any time soon. Her grandmother. Dead. Passed away life a fleeting breath in the wind. It made her angry. Upset. A flaming cocktail of the two mixed vigorously inside her chest. She moved and writhed around on her bed, fighting off her feelings through her movement. The second she would stop and more would flood out of her. Hours passed while she was locked in this torturous game of fighting off grief and choked tears.

Eventually she threw herself out of bed and snatched Laetitia’s master book before escaping out of the house in a grief-stricken sprint. She hopped over the gravel driveway and bolted through the reeds of grass and cattails before collapsing by the water’s edge of the stream that sat by the pavilion at the end of the garden. After wiping her face and peeling the strands of her blonde hair off the sides of her head where her tears stuck them together, she began to open up and flick through the book.

Trolls. Gremlins. Faeries. Elves. Dragons. Banshees. Mermaids. Kelpies. Even the Morrigan and a plethora of other legendary creatures and monsters. Drawings and illustrations. Alphabetical and runic inscriptions and letters. Descriptions. Anatomical diagrams. Maps. Loose sheets of diary entries and recounts. The amount of information was so immense the binding of the book was beyond fragile. Laurie would always remember fondly of the stories her granny Laetitia would tell her. In lieu of the shallow Disney princess stories that often PG-ified the original stories, Laetitia told Laurie her own personal tales of excitement and danger of the realm that the world was partially built on. Folklore. Myths. Legends. The Underworld. The place where all things in the encyclopaedic book that Laurie clutched to in her moment of vulnerability. Laetitia was a scientist. A realist. Though she also often journeyed outside the box more than what most people would care to admit, let alone do so for themselves. Her trips to the Underworld were lessons, lessons built on lessons from their own individual time, and lessons passed down to Laurie. Something that modern stories only wished they could do without needless, hollow messages that prove nothing, Laetitia would say. The book Laetitia wrote in – the same one Laurie was never going to let go of, even when it remained nestled on her lap – was all the stories she would listen to. They must have been repeated over and over again beyond a million times but Laurie would never get tired of them.

The stories Laetitia carried with her throughout her life, right up to her death in all literal sense never held more weight than now for Laurie, who held the heavy book up to her chest as she cuddled it between her arms and legs. Centuries of superstition and folkloric traditions recorded in that book yet none of them could bring her beloved grandmother back to life. Not in this world. Maybe not even down there either. The thought of both sides made Laurie sicker than anything.

The early sightings of dawn began to peek over the horizon, a hazy orange glow slowly filtering in through the clouds. It must have been around six, maybe seven o’clock by now. Autumn didn’t really know when to host its dark mornings. It always seemed to pick its fancy whatever the mood called for. Regardless however, Laurie had been up all day yesterday, and now she had managed to stay up all night, and yet she still showed no sign of resting.

Laurie remained chained to the ground beneath her. Her lower back felt tingly from how still she sat by the edge of the stream. When the stiffness persisted to the rest of her body, she decided she couldn’t take it no longer and got up. Though as she raised her gaze up from the ground, she stilled herself again as she laid eyes of herself. “She,” who had been watching her from the shadow of the trees behind her, now met her eyes.

The twin girls locked expressions. Laurie was petrified. She knew who she was. What she was. She was a Fetch. Page five hundred and forty-six of Laetitia’s Underworld memoirs. The doppelganger that snatches the image of its visage and drags them to death.

The tears ramped up again as she tried to back away, yet fear planted her in her spot. The “other” meanwhile, was slowly advancing towards her. “She” walked across the grass like she was clipping through it, her footsteps neither affecting nor invisible to the ground.

Laurie’s face contorted into all manner of peril and dread, guarding herself as she used every fibre of her tiny, fragile being to will the omen away. She shut her eyes and whimpered when “She” stood toe to toe with her. “She” had a blank face, but through Laurie’s reluctant look back at her, she saw no harm intended behind it.

“She” must have been silently asking politely to take away the life of a girl who had yet to reach her eighth birthday.

But the eyes of the doppelganger became clouded in sadness. Not to mock her ‘victim’ but to mirror her. “She” held her hands out. She didn’t urge Laurie to take them. Instead, Laurie felt compelled by her own volition to do so.

Laurie was resigning herself to death. After losing her grandmother and by default, everything she loved about life, how could there be a way out?

The icy phantom hands of her doppelganger only grazed Laurie’s fingertips. In a single intake of breath, colours and sensations washed over the little girl and in another beat, she fell to the ground.
Just as the sun rose over her still form, the doppelganger vanished, and Laurie awoke.

Cold. Confused. Changed.

_{Word Count: 1317}

Scene 1: Just Another Tuesday Innit?

Navy clouds rolled in on another cold evening over the dead streets of Under-London. Straggling souls returned to their ethereal homes in the burial site nearby as they laid themselves down for respite while the candle lamps lit up the burial site. The red fence around the perimeter was cast in a rusted shine, as were the opaque shadows drawn by the wanderings of the denizens of the dark world. However they wouldn’t linger for too long and soon neighbours would drag them into their homes to lock their doors, bar their windows and hide away as the familiar screech of a predator re-entered their midst.

It was back again. It sniffed the air before screeching, pounding its claws along the cobblestone road as it desperately chased the smell of flesh. The scent hit its deformed nostrils like a drug, edging it closer and closer towards that unquenching need for food, that unstoppable want for a bloody pleasure. The thought of diving its face into the viscera of an Underworld-born victim made its pale and degrading hair stand along its back and arms. Saliva flooded its chest, its tongue washing over its jaws as it howled in anticipation. Its instincts latched onto a few snacks boxed in by the walls of their house on the left.

It built up adrenaline in its hind legs as it got ready to pounce and crash through the walls but then another smell snuck by its nose. Another whiff and all of a sudden the creature faced away from its original target while a new look of pure lust overtook it. This new aroma… It was intoxicating. It was sweet. It was foreign. It was alive.

The aroma had a voice that sung down the silent street on the other side of the Square. Turning the corner, the lamps made way for hers truly, her figure now taller and dare say stronger than she was nine years ago. Her hands were in her pockets as she walked down the aisle with confidence in her heavy-duty boots, the years of experience she had flowing through her like a rotating wheel. Her hair, now platinum from the prolonged exposure, billowed behind her softly. Her voice got louder as she approached where she needed to be.

“There’s no place like London~”

She stopped and breathed in the cold air around her, her breath visible as she exhaled. Her blue eyes opened to her surroundings and grinned wolfishly when she spotted it. The creature looked back at her, confusion lacing its expression though not too much to overturn the excruciating hunger it was experiencing.

It was her. It was coming from her.

Locked on target, it lunged for her.

“Oh boll-!”

She rolled out of the way where it crashed into some wooden stalls behind her. She dusted herself off as she steadied herself back onto her feet.

“Fuck sake! I haven’t even said ‘hello’ yet and you’re already looking at me like I’m fresh out of the oven!” She rolled her eyes. “You wendigos are a gluttonous bunch, you know that?”

Even if it wasn’t capable of reasoning to begin with, her words went unheard when the creature tried for a second attempt, this time managed to nick her shoulder with a claw as she went to dodge. Trying to make equal ground, she sprung back around and tackled it to the hard stony pavement. They wrestled with each other before she managed to kick it in the stomach and bounce back. A strangled screech from the creature’s mouth was followed by another aggressive pounce. She moved just in the nick of time before the creature had the chance to take her head off.

“Looks like someone’s in their funny half hour!”

She grinned as she gauged the challenge before her. Getting to its level she arched her back before scrambling across the ground, getting ready to tackle the creature once again. Both forces met in a heavy collision when they sprinted like the wild animals they were, with Laurie wrestling the wendigo’s arms behind it while said creature thrashed and gnarled in her grip. Laurie’s advantage came to a swift end though when she moved around too much and threw herself off when her back made contact with a wooden beam, giving the creature that split second it needed to break out of Laurie’s hold and throw her overhead into a stone wall ahead of them. Laurie grunted and groaned as she writhed along the freezing ground before she wrangled control of her body to stand upright, salvaging just enough time to dodge another pounce from the creature. Sounds of frantic movement, chaotic screeching, wood splintering and bricks cracking followed suite.

“Christ…” Laurie huffed as she stretched herself out, wiping sweat and grit off her brow. Her head lulled forward in fatigue and she suddenly saw her shadow move below her feet, rearranging itself until it looked like it was staring back up at her. She knew what that meant and she grinned deviously at it.

“You just read my mind…”

Straightening herself up, she held out her arms and the familiar surge of intensity flooded through her veins and out burst dark, powerful thorns that ripped through her wrists, sliding out of the slits in her fingerless gloves as they whipped themselves around and smacking onto the floor with each swift movement. With fleet planted and muscles flexed, she made another charge at her rival, this time swinging the thorns in the creature’s direction where it took quick slices to its shoulders and back. The wendigo, feeling the pain from Laurie’s fury, stumbled backwards and sideways in hopes of getting away, without success. The thorns trapped the creature’s limbs in their sharp and dangerous restraints as Laurie lunged and howled towards it, delivering a mighty kick to its chest, knocking the wind clean out of the creature where it then slumped to the ground without further resistance.

“Phew! Fillet of Laurie is off the menu after all!”

She hauled the unconscious wendigo across the town, the sounds of its nails catching on the pavement as its claws trailed behind its defeated form. Laurie breathed heavily as she dragged it slowly but surely to the far side of the town where stood an old and decaying well, sat atop a large mount in a field just on the other side of the edge of the deathly town.

She hoisted it up over her shoulder, aided by the pull of the thorns before dumping the creature over the well and watching it plummet into the chasm below, a satisfying bang as it landed down the long and unclimbable channel.

Laurie covered up the well’s entry using the rocks surrounding it before sending her thorns back into her wrists, vanishing back into her arms and healing the slits they made earlier. She stretched out her body once more before letting out an incredulous sigh of relief.

“He’ll have a good time in his new home down there… Where he belongs,” Laurie mused aloud, sure of herself that her shadow would be listening.

She began backtracking across the town, whistling a satisfying tune to herself. She noticed off the corner of her eyes that people were beginning to emerge from their homes, some more cautious than others. She smirked as she walked past the inhabitants of the ghost town, waving to them like nothing happened and bowing as she marched proudly down the road.

“You’re all welcome by the way~!” She hollered as she commuted. “Best make your wishes in another well though, unless you want them wendigos to grant them for you!” A snicker followed her dark humour.

She vaulted up and over the stone wall by the entrance to the town – even though there was a gate that she easily could’ve walked through – and howled triumphantly before her presence faded into the fog of the world outside. Nearby villagers watched her disappear into the not sunset as she walked off onto the country road.

“That went better than I was expecting, to be honest,” she commented. “Granny made them sound like I’d be as good as flesh stew on sight. Well... Maybe one day!” She mocked shamelessly.

She knew her shadow was listening to her by how it looked like it was pooling peculiarly at her feet while she kept walking. Laurie continued to stride down the road with the flare of eight years’ worth of experience in her steps. It was neither hard nor easy to believe that she had spent all that time down there. Eight years of learning, exploring, learning, running, exploring, fighting, humouring and learning about the Underworld. It all felt like a minute compared to the long years Laurie bided her time with when she first drafted up plans to carry on her grandmother’s legacy.

Entering the forest ahead of them, Laurie cackled joyfully as the faeries watched on curiously. They had seen her traverse their territory before, but they couldn’t possibly fathom the unbridled joy in the wanderer’s steps.

The pitch of her laugh and the springier steps in her feet could only point towards something exciting. Or worse.

With Laurie, there was no telling what could happen. Just as Laurie wanted.

_{Word Count: 1549}