This one scared Me. Creepy 6

[tempered-rose.livejournal.com]

Title: What Hides In Plain Sight Will Get You in the Shadows, Part 6
Characters: Martin Kelly, Kenny Dalglish, Conor Coady
Summary: Martin Kelly gets teased about his tolerance for all things supernatural. But does he have good reason to be afraid?
Words: this part: 1,959; Total: 8,841
A/N: Okay, from now on, it’s going to be a lot creepier. Consider this a warning that there's going to be some dark themes put in here now--which I hope you already knew, but if not, I'm saying it now. I hope you guys don’t get too freaked out. This chapter is dedicated to Louie because she made me feel better yesterday and that was quite a feat considering :) Thank you Louie, I love you bb <3 And for the rest of you, thank you for your comments. I love you guys <3333333 And by the way, this part scared ME. Just soes you know 0:-)
Previous Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five




Martin jumped in the chair he sat in when his alarm went off at nine. The Bible slid off his lap, but he managed to catch the chain of the rosary before it slid off his thigh. He held the chain in his hand while he yawned and shifted in the chair. He was tired, very tired.

Slowly, he shuffled across the carpet and turned the alarm off. He yawned and stretched while he rubbed the back of his neck. It was going to be a long, long morning. He made his way towards the bathroom and flipped on the light, still lethargic from not having slept properly.

He muttered to himself as he pulled his toothbrush across the counter.

“Taking a nap when I get back. Hell with staying all day. Kenny will understand.” Martin muttered and jerked the lid of the toothpaste off so that he could smear some across the toothbrush. He glanced up in the mirror as he began to furiously brush his teeth.

He felt a little sore in his back, but he just chalked that up to tension from sleeping in the chair all night. Martin ignored it and finished brushing his teeth. He then splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up. It only partially worked. The cold water made his skin feel splashed by tiny knife-pricks of awareness. Martin yawned again and finished up in the bathroom.

As he passed the nightstand, he picked up his phone and started walking towards his closet. He sent a short text to Conor and then tossed his phone across the room onto the bed. He pulled a random pair of jeans and a shirt from the closet and got dressed quickly. He gave himself a once over in the mirror and he sighed.

“You look like hell Martin.” He told himself and shook his head. He sighed while looking into his own eyes.

He was considering the idea of simply calling in ill, but he shook his head. He would definitely be benched for sure in the match if he didn’t even show up. Martin sighed. Why couldn’t he have just gone to training on time yesterday? Conor was lovely, but they hadn’t had to have sex that early in the morning.

Martin turned to leave the closet and stopped at the door into the bedroom when he saw something on the floor. He frowned that he almost had stepped on something when he froze stiff. Sitting square in the floor was his phone.

Swallowing, Martin bent down to pick up the device with shaking fingers. The phone was cool to the touch, normal. He tilted his head and looked it over but nothing was otherwise wrong it with it. It was the same familiar device he had used to send a text only a few minutes before.

He put the phone in his pocket and swallowed hard.

Calm down Martin. It’s in your head, it’s okay. He told himself as he picked up his IPod and other things he would need for training.

As quickly as he could, he did the rest of his morning chores faster than he normally would have. In his haste, he didn’t eat breakfast and almost left Macsen outside in the back garden. While he was in his hurry, Martin couldn’t stop trembling as the paranoia began to grow inside of his mind. He reminded himself to take calming breaths and that everything was going to be okay.

Despite trying to remind himself that he was supposed to be professional now, he still stopped by the front door and left the rosary on the table just inside the door.

Martin swallowed hard and locked the door behind himself. Then he started for Melwood.

It wasn’t until he was stopped at an intersection did he realize something. He hadn’t had to turn off any lights apart from the ones he had had turned on that morning.

Any sense of calming effects he had put on himself faded with that realization.

Martin jumped back to his surroundings when the car behind him honked. Somehow he managed to move down the street until he found an empty car park. He killed the engine and just sat still in his car. He was so far inside of his head that he didn’t even realize how bad he was trembling, nor could he begin to control the tremors.

Martin fumbled for his phone and just barely managed to punch in the keys to call Kenny. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with his gaffer, but he was in no shape to do anything today.

“Kelly?”

“Y-yeah, b-boss it’s me.” Martin’s voice shook as badly as his whole body was. “S-s-sorry, b-but I-I-I c-can’t,” he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself enough to finish the phone call, “can’t c-come to training today.”

“Are you drunk or otherwise hungover?” He could hear Kenny’s skeptical tone.

“No sir.” Martin replied firmly. At least that he could manage. “No. J-just a b-bad morning. D-don’t f-feel well at all sir.”

Kenny stayed silent for a few minutes before Martin could hear the weary sigh on the other end of the line. It was a heavy sigh and Martin waited for the condemnation to pass.

“Kelly, this behavior won’t be tolerated for long. Take today, but make sure tomorrow you are sorted. Otherwise further disciplinary actions will have to be taken. Do you understand?”

Martin nodded. “Y-yes sir. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Martin.” Kenny sounded firm, but patient. Concerned, even.

“Yes sir. Goodbye.” Martin’s voice faded distantly as he hung up the phone.

He hated to disappoint the team, especially the gaffer, but this was something else entirely. This just wasn’t a team or a player that was going to be leering down at him or could possibly hurt him a little. This was something darker, something he couldn’t name except by calling it ‘other worldly’ and that didn’t seem to do it justice.

Martin swallowed as he looked at the phone. He needed someone to listen, someone who wouldn’t judge him or think he should be institutionalized. The lads would be at training now, or almost just. He couldn’t call Pepe; the goalkeeper was always early and training was a serious thing for him.

He couldn’t call his mother. With the taste of disappointment fresh in his mouth, he remembered the trip to his mum’s the day before. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be around him. That didn’t mean he didn’t like it. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into his mother’s bed and let her hold him until he fell asleep like he had done when he was twelve. Back when she at first hadn’t believed him and had murmured soft things about how no monsters would get to him there. He wanted her magical protection again, but this time she wasn’t willing to offer it.

Martin picked his phone up and pressed the number he had on speed dial. Conor would think he was mad, perhaps he was a little, but he needed someone to listen. Conor was his best friend. The two pieces fit.

The phone rang in his ear a few times before on the last ring, Conor finally answered.

“This better be an invitation to be a booty call Kells. Otherwise, why are you ringing this early on a Friday?” He could hear Conor’s tired voice and in another situation, he would’ve smiled just then. But this was all sorts of different.

“S-sorry to bother you,” Martin swallowed, “but I need to see you.”

“…this isn’t for, you know what, is it?” Conor asked hesitatingly a moment later.

“No.” Martin answered shortly before softening into a pleading tone. “I just…I just need someone to listen. And…you…well, just please Conor?”

He could hear shuffling on the other side of the line before Conor answered. “Yeah, of course. Where are you? I’ll be there. You know I will.”


It wasn’t long before Conor arrived into the vacant car park. He was walking, Martin briefly assumed he took a bus or something. The how he got there wasn’t so much important as the fact that he was there. For that, Martin was very grateful.

Conor spotted the car and came to the passenger side quickly. Martin had unlocked the door as soon as he’d seen him coming.

“What’s going on Martin? Aren’t you supposed to be at training now?” Conor asked as he got in. “Won’t the—”

Conor stopped speaking all together and his eyes widened in surprise before narrowing studiously. “What’s going on? Why are you pale? What’s happened?” He demanded quickly.

Martin swallowed nervously.

“I need to tell you something. Something about something that happened to me when I was young.” Conor frowned in confusion but Martin continued anyway. “I…I know you’ll probably think I’ve gone mad, but…well, I just need someone to listen.”

“I’ll listen Martin. But if you’ve done anything illegal...” Conor’s tone faded into one of warning.

Martin shook his head quickly and a trace of annoyance came into his voice. “I’m not drunk! I’m not on drugs! I’ve not done anything illegal! This is worse than that! Can’t you people see that?”

Conor’s frown stayed in place.

“What is worse than that, Kells? Come on, what is going on Martin?”

Martin shifted in the seat and felt the same irritation on his back as he had earlier. He frowned. That should’ve faded if it was just how he’d slept.

“I’ll tell you everything, but first, I need you to answer something for me.”

It was Conor’s turn to sigh in annoyance. “What? You’re confusing me so much right now Martin.”

Martin swallowed nervously and shifted forward a little away from the back of the seat.

“I just need you to look at my back and see if there’s anything there.”

Conor’s eyes narrowed further. “What are you…fine, whatever. Just turn around and let’s get this over with, yeah?”

Martin swallowed and shifted forward in the seat while turning to show his back to Conor. He could feel Conor’s fingers make quick work of pushing his shirt up over his back. As the material passed a certain point on his back where the irritation was the strongest, he hissed a little. His hiss covered up Conor’s exclamation of surprise.

“Fuck, Martin! What have you done to yourself?!”

Martin swallowed and closed his eyes at Conor’s words. “Does it say anything this time?”

“‘This time’? What do you mean ‘this time’?! This has happened before? What did you do?” Conor asked, voice rising in shock.

“Conor, answer the question please.” Martin asked, amazingly, he thought, calmly. He kept his eyes closed and took several deep breaths.

“It says ‘I’m back’. Who’s back? Martin, what the hell is going on? How did you carve that into your—why did you carve that into your skin? Are you cheating on me? Did somebody else do this? What the fuck is going on?!” Conor asked. With every question he got more and more out of sorts. Martin slowly, carefully lowered his shirt and turned back to face his friend.

“I’m not cheating on you. I didn’t do this. And I’ll be relieved really to tell you everything. But can we go somewhere else first? This carpark is starting to get to me.”

Silently, Conor nodded. Martin knew that the boy didn’t quite believe that he hadn’t written the words into his flesh himself, but it figured. It hadn’t been the first time he had fallen asleep and woken up with marks scratched into his skin.

It was just only the first time in ten years that it had happened.