The Ex Archives

Part 2 to "Gothic Invasion." In an obvious satirical manner, two FBI agents investigate odd goings-on at the old haunted mansion.

               It was a lightless and inclement night.

Thunder rumbled, lightning slashed, winds drove, and rain hammered down. Two stoic government special agents motored along in their huge black SUV to the site of their investigation into a mysterious case that had made it into The Ex Archives. The stiff, strict female agent drove with a mechanical accurate motion while the laconic male held an official tablet ticking off a checklist in a menial sort of way. These two, the only two agents of The Ex Archives, constituted the secret unit acting as the country’s guardian, the first line of defense against those weird, bizarre, implausible, and unexplained cases ultimately set aside by the mainstream FBI.

Despite the FBI officially disavowed anything to do with The Ex Archives, the two agents needed to think that the proof was out there…    

 

                “Seeing we’re partners now, I have to tell you that it is a real honor to be partnered with you, Agent Scrawley,” said Agent Mundane from the shotgun position.  “At Covert U, my freshman class stayed all abuzz about you.”

                “Really?” asked Scrawley, rather proudly without taking her eyes from the rain-slicked street.  “I was a senior at that time, right? Was it my in-depth, convincing thesis on paranormal phenomenon or my perfect GPA that was so widely known among the freshmen?”

                “Not either, exactly.”

                “Really? Then what did I do to attract the attention of your class?”

                “Aaahhhhh, let me say truthfully,” Mundane smirked, “you were known as Callipygian Scrawley.”

                Scrawley didn’t answer for a few moments as the tires hissed on the wet road. She glanced to him.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

                “It means you have fine buttocks. I have to agree with the assessment still these years later not to mention your lovely hourglass figure.”

                “You’re being severely insubordinate, Agent Mundane!” Scrawley scolded. “I could turn you in for administrative admonishment for uttering that statement.”

                “But you won’t,” Mundane said smugly. “You like being told that sort of thing. I can tell along with the fact that you appreciate the fact I have a thing for you.”

                “I don’t!” She scolded, but she paused. “All right, Agent Mundane, you’d better mind your conduct. I’m your superior�"and I am older than you,” she clarified.

                “I adore older women. I had a crush on you at the university,” Mundane said. “Did you ever realize the fact and that you were my freshman surveillance project?”

                “You�"you tailed me as a project?”

                “Sure, you were the perfect subject. I took hundreds of photos�"that I still have�"especially those that show your perfect, ah, callipygian features.”

Suddenly, the SUV shuttered violently and a bright light flashed that made the agents look up and blink several times, but they shook it off and continued on all the same.       

                Scrawley turned the SUV down a tight, deserted street with a posted ‘No Outlet’ sign.

“I hate cul-de-sacs, there’s only one way in or out,” she muttered. “So, you were stalking me?”  

                “No way, Scrawley! You were an assigned reconnaissance project. I got an A-plus on my project because the instructor could tell from my report that no one could make up the details I witnessed you doing. I also need to inform you that I only date older women, especially those in a dominating position who display a severe toughness along with a delicate frailty.”

                “I don’t recall your records stating that you had Mommy issues,” Scrawley said matter-of-factly. “Though there was a reference to your nickname of Cookie Mundane which made me think twice about agreeing to become a partner with you.”

                “I made cookies for my class all the time, but I was also crazy sharp in planning ahead to create favorable outcomes. Like the fact I paid off The Drinking Man to make sure we were partnered�"finally,” Mundane said. He gestured out the windshield with a finger point. “Hey! This must be the place,” he glanced at the tablet in his lap. “Second Empire house on 666 Sycamore Court�"abandoned for twelve years as a Zombie Property and recently occupied by suspicious inhabitants�"possibly those we’re looking for. Slow down Scrawley; look at that young couple running back to the house, they look a bit, ah�"”

                “Alien?” She gave him a fleeting cursory glance before scrutinizing the pair.

                “No, I thought in love.” Mundane said, while staring at Scrawley wearing a silly self-possessed expression complete with googly eyes.

                She pulled to a stop across the street and put the SUV in park before she realized that he was staring at her. “Stop that Mundane, or I swear, I’ll�"”

                “What? Assert your authority? Please do!” He said, while watching the young couple swerve in through the broken front gate of the old mansion.       

                “Come on, let’s catch those two outside and pose our list of annoying pointed questions. Let ME do the talking,” Scrawley asserted.

                 Despite the overcast and diffuse light, Scrawley donned her sunglasses and Mundane followed suit. They quickly exited the vehicle and strode across the wet street. As if timed, they simultaneously reached into their long, black coats and extracted their IDs.

                “Do we need to confer over our plan before we make contact with the citizens?” Mundane asked.

                “No. I am very good at impromptu interrogative conversations to assess dangerous situations and extract vital information, but Mundane, pay close attention to learn and follow my lead if all hell breaks out,” she said.

                “Damn! She is foxy and displays real pluck,” he said admiringly. “Hmmm, I don’t sense any malice from these two, but�"” He cut it off as she glared at him because they were drawing up close behind the young pair.

                “Ah, miss! Young man!” He shouted to announce their presence. She glared again, and he knew he’d better tightly compress his lips and stay quiet.

                “Agent Scrawley,” she said forcibly. They both flashed their IDs, and she gestured to him. “This is Agent Mundane.”

                “May we speak to you for a moment?”

                “YEOW!” The black cat shrieked and ran off the porch. Mundane jumped back with a girlish, “Yikes!”

                “Don’t let the cat bother you, Agent,” said Goth Boy. “He always does that when someone comes to the door. Normally, I would decline an interview with the authorities, but I’m feeling chartable today, so I’ll acquiesce. We’ve spoken with some so-called investigators before, so why are you two here and how could we possibly help you?”

                “We are investigating an Ex Archives case�"”

                “Ex? Like former wives, husbands, lovers, and so on?”

                “No, no. We investigate cases the bureau has set aside because they’re too fantastic or simply forgotten, so do us a favor, cooperate, and maybe we’ll leave you alone.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes, definitely maybe,” Agent Scrawley said, and with an impatient sigh, she continued. “We have detected dangerous unexplained emanations radiating from this location. What can you tell me about them? How many are there in your assemblage? Do you employ mind control? Where’d you come from in outer space? Do you come in peace?” Agent Scrawley asked rapid fire.

                “Huh?” the girl asked with a screwed up face.

                “Very good at conversations you said?” Asked Agent Mundane to Agent Scrawley; then noticing the interlock the teenagers had in their fingers, he took over. “Hey kids, are either of your mommies home?”  He asked in baby talk.

                “Kids? Mommies!?” Shouted Goth Boy quite visibly appalled.

                “Sorry about him, not quite right,” Agent Scrawley said, tapping her head and looking really pissed. “Young man, are you a chimney sweep with all that soot around your eyes there or striving to remain incognito�"which means�"”

                “Indeed, I know what that means, agent. This is my chosen personal appearance. It’s called Goth.”

                “Fer surrrrrre, I happen to adore the look,” said the Valley Girl.               

                “Ooooohhhhhh! I see,” Agent Scrawley said, taking down a note while taking in the girl’s totally non-Goth appearance. “You must be a submissive brain-frozen human slave under their complete and total dominance.”

                “Woo-woo! I love it when you talk sexy!” Exclaimed Mundane. “You got handcuffs? I can be submissive.”

                “Keep it in your pants, lover boy,” said Scrawley visibly annoyed. “We’re on a mission.”

                “Yes, Ma’am!” Mundane said, snapping to and glancing at his checklist. “Are you acting under your own freewill or are you surprised by your own irrational actions? Do you, at times, utter an inexplicable indecipherable language? Have you found any recent punctures or possible bodily penetrations�"?”

 He smiled at Scrawley, but she only made sternly irked eyes while gesturing him to continue.  Goth Boy and Valley Girl seemed like they were getting nervous, and not nearly as brave they were at first with an underlying look of panic in their eyes. The black cat made another appearance and began to scratch on a weathered porch baluster.  They all turned to the noise, except Agent Scrawley who whirled about with a coat-billowing flourish while reaching for her holster in reaction.

                “Hold on there, Pistol Packing Mama!” Agent Mundane said, with a hand on her forearm. “Only the cat.” He removed his hand, took a breath, lowered his list, and decided to wing it. “So what’s the story with you two? Do either of you live here?” He scanned the old house. “Though it doesn’t seem like this house is habitable overall�"I hope I’m not insulting you�"”

                “He and his family are living here�"I mean they’re planning on fixing it up. They are endowed with the craft so to say,” Valley Girl explained. “Is there anything wrong with that, Agents?” 

                Mundane and Scrawley looked at each other. “No, of course not. Do they belong to a construction guild? You know, for compliance with building, zoning codes, and so on? Renovations shouldn’t be haphazard, you know? Your family could flounder into a renovation disaster.”

                “Ah, no, they’re not in a guild,” Goth boy said. “But we research everything online. We’re big Googlers.”

                “Is that the name of your species, Big Googlers?” Scrawley asked, backing a step away.

                At that moment, a movement in the window caught Mundane’s eye. He caught a glance of what he could only describe as a ghoul, but then again, he reassessed Goth Boy’s appearance.

                “I take it your family is Goth as well, and they’re home�"ah, here now?” He asked. “May we speak to them?”  

                “Ahhh, mmmm,” As Goth Boy stalled, Scrawley studied the Valley Girl.

                “What’s your part here? With this�"so-called boy?” Scrawley asked while pointing at him.

                “He and I are together. Ya’ know, a couple.”

                “Obviously,” Mundane said. “How long have you known him?”

                The girl gazed away from their patiently waiting faces. “About six hours.”

                Scrawley and Mundane eyed each other and nodded a silent concurrence.

                “Considering that, you may go if you don’t want to be part of this investigation. The situation could get messy. You may see things that may haunt you for a lifetime,” Mundane said.

                Goth Boy and Valley Girl looked at one another, and the agents saw their hands squeeze tighter.

                The girl paused to reflect, but said, “No, I won’t go, I’ll stay, but�"wait!” She quickly reached into her pocket. Scrawley’s hand flew to her inside pocket, holding it there poised, and only releasing her pistol grip when the girl drew out her MePhone. “C’mon, I want a selfie with you agents.” She wrestled Goth Boy up close to her and with an exquisite swirl they swiveled around so the agents would be in the picture. Scrawley and Mundane turned and covered their faces as she snapped away.     

                “All right then, may we go in?” Scrawley asked, with a turn and gesture to enter the huge weathered door. She whispered over her shoulder to Mundane. “Stay on your toes; I’m really getting the heebie-jeebies from this house. This is the heaven-sent case I’ve been looking forward to.”

                “This is the view I’ve been looking forward to,” he said, looking at her behind.

                “Get your mind out of the gutter and back on the case, Agent Mundane,” Scrawley hissed.

                With Goth Boy leading the way, the four of them stepped inside the old mansion. Agent Scrawley gazed about taking in the classic gothic horror furnishings. They scanned the cobwebby chandeliers and dusty portraits of men at war hanging on the peeling wallpapered walls. Agent Mundane drew up close and cocked his head to study a still life of fruit, but he jumped back when the Maltese Falcon on the mantle reached out and nipped his ear. A couple statues stood about in the living space with a bust on a pedestal that looked like Julius Caesar. Scrawley let out a long, low whistle of appreciation.

                “I’m jealous of your digs here,” she said.

                “Yeah, I really like what you’ve done with the place,” he said, pinching his ear.

                Suddenly, the agents froze and bristled with a long, drawn-out, bone-chilling moaning.  “wooOOOooo, WOOOOoooOOOO! Woooooo.”

                “What the hell is that sound?” Scrawley asked, turning about trying to locate its source.

                “Sounds like�"I don’t want to sound presumptuous here�"ghosts to me,” Mundane said, uncommonly cool.
                “What Mundane?”

                “You know, spooks, ghouls, wraiths, specters, spirits, apparitions�"”

                “I know, I know,” Scrawley said, “I’m the expert here, remember Agent Mundane? I just couldn’t hear you over that racket.”

                “Yes, ma’am!” He said, making lovesick googly eyes.

                “Not to worry agents,” said Goth Boy, “that’s just my dad snoring.”

                 “OOOooohhhhh,” the agents chorused.

                Scrawley snapped out of it. “Could you wake up your parents, so we can�"talk to�"them?”

Mundane eyed her with a questioning expression.

                Unexpectedly, the black cat let out a “Yeow!” and jumped in through the window by the Caesar bust that made the lace curtains billow. Instinctively acting on her intensive agent training, Scrawley reached into her coat, whipped out her .45, and fired off three shots in rapid succession: “Bam, bam, bam!” The cat continued to run across the room unharmed, but Julius Caesar’s head slowly cocked to one side with three closely spaced holes in the median of the bust’s upper torso. With a crunch, the head fell to the floor with a thud, rolled across the floor, and stopped, resting close to their feet. The Roman emperor’s blind alabaster eyes stared blankly up at them from the odd angle.  

                “Sorry about that,” she said, holstering her smoking gun, but the damage was done. The four stood there in silence, gazing down at the decapitated Caesar like those attending a wake for a close acquaintance.  

                “That was a rather unseemly bit of firework, Annie Oakley,” Mundane said, in an outburst that broke the somber mood.  “Well, this certainly changes the hue of this investigation. Scrawley, am I going to have to take your gun away?”

Scrawley gave him a sour-puss face.

                “What was that noise? What’s the trouble here?” A loud voice said, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

The two agents jerked about in reaction. Mundane grabbed Scrawley’s pistol arm apparently to keep her from firing off a few more warning shots. She glared at him, and he smirked while sneaking a peek down her shirt. They saw a well-dressed, relatively normal man standing in the archway where the cat had disappeared. Scrawley noticed that Valley Girl covered her mouth in surprise and oddly stared at the newcomer’s feet.  The man wore normal business shoes that left footprints in the dusty carpet, so Scrawley couldn’t twig why the Valley Girl looked at his feet.

“Hello, agents�"I assume you are agents by your clichéd dress and appearance,” the man said. A woman and young girl also came into view. “Let me intro-duce myself, my name is Mike Smith with a ‘Y’�" if you’re taking notes.”

“Isn’t Smith pronounced with a long “I” when it has a “Y”? Mundane asked. “I wouldn’t want to mispronounce or misspell your name.

“Of course that is correct, agent. The “Y” is in “Myke,” the fellow replied straightforwardly.

“Yes, of course,” Scrawley said and introduced themselves.  “We are for a matter of fact investigating a case from the Ex Archives involving a detection of a strange radiation from here and several unexplained nocturnal sightings of weird phenomenon.”

“Oooohhhh, a strange radiation and weird phenomenon you say?” Myke Smith said. “Those other agents visited us but found nothing.” His eyeballs oddly swiveled around in their sockets at the woman and girl who flanked him, and his nose wiggled and his ears twitched. “I wouldn’t know of any weirdness you might be referring to. We’re only humble citizens, occupants of this fine, fixer-upper domicile. So surely, you must be mistaken.”

“Don’t call me, Shirley, my name is Scrawley,” said Scrawley. “I’m an expert and have been investigating weird phenomena for some time now and believe I’ve hit the mother lode of weird here, so come clean while you can.”

“Yes ma’am, I can believe you are a brilliant investigator with much talent and abundant resources at your disposal,” his eyes went wonky again causing Scrawley’s trigger finger to twitch.  “As an upright servant of a proper society, I am sure you and your partner Agent Money there perform a magnificent service of brainless, worthless busywork that is well worth your over-priced salaries.”

“Now, just wait a *^%$*@# second!” Mundane shouted using a couple gloriously foul execrations. “My name is Mundane!”

Myke Smith ignored his angry retort and inched closer to the agents whispering some gibberish to the two woman close by. Scrawley noticed that Goth Boy had inched closer to the three leaving Valley Girl standing solitarily by the hearth.

“Of course, my mistake.  I am sure you garner much enjoyment investigating and arresting citizens you deem as unbecoming to your impossibly high standards.”

“As I am sure your group there probably garners much pleasure, if your kind truly can experience such a thing, from taking over the Earth and subjecting Earthlings to brain-erasing procedures,” Scrawley shot back. “Am I right about why you four are illegitimately present here within our jurisdiction�"namely Earth?”

“Cease and desist! I’m a lawyer,” the female occupant said, speaking for the first time. “I believe you are making false accusations, entering our domicile without our express permission, and intruding on our privacy, all without reading us our Miranda Rights.”

“Oh, oh,” Mundane said to Scrawley behind a cupped hand. “A lawyer! She’s correct, even interstellar aliens have rights.”

“To hell with them and their rights!” Scrawley said imperiously.

 She reached into her outer pocket and drew out an oblong device about the size of a phone.

“Oh wow. You’re taking a selfie of this tense situation�"far out!” Said Valley Girl in her sing-song voice.

“NO, SCRAWLEY!” Mundane yelled. “You don’t know the ramifications of using that thing! It could fray the fragile fabric of the space-time continuum!”

Nevertheless, she held it out, pressed the button, and expanding circular heatwave-like rays vacillated out of the device towards the four suspicious figures causing a tremendous body-crushing sensation.

 Agents Scrawley and Mundane lost consciousness.

 

***

 The Ex Archive’s huge, black SUV shuttered and the pair of agents reawakened inside blinking from a bright flash of light. Approaching the turn onto Sycamore Court, they glanced at the “No Outlet” sign.

“I hate cul-de-sacs, there’s only one way in and out,” Scrawley said. “So, were you stalking me?”

Staring at the tablet on his lap, Mundane paused in his work on a resume of events for a case he couldn’t recall at all.

“Ahhh Scrawley? These events here�",” he said, pointing at the tablet, “and this case we’re driving toward�"is it the only case we’ve been partnered together on or is this some kind of prank?”

Scrawley silently gazed at him with a confused expression and then glanced in the rear view mirror.

“Whoa! Where’d you come from?” She asked the figure in the back seat as she menacing reached into her coat...        

   

TO BE CONTINUED!