ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ (
infomodder) wrote2015-09-12 01:24 pm
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Entry tags:
ic contact 2 mask or menace




"Gone fishing."
[ so don't leave messages to ruin the after fishing glow !!!
your one stop shop for not leaving him alone, previous contact post can be found here ]
you are never sorry to me for any reason this is our design
Will Graham drops by the shop after dinner, believing he's going to find nothing unusual. He turns on the light in the back room and meanders to the cupboard he expects to find it in. The penmanship catches his eye, has him carefully weighing the package in his hands before he lifts it to listen, as if there is something more sinister inside. Well, no ticking. What's the worst that could happen?
He uses a plastic knife to cut it open over the table employees use to take their breaks.
...the table that he watches become sullied and its own crime scene when, in what feels like slow motion, a finger falls out of the package and rolls to the very edge of the table.
Holy shit. At least, he thinks a moment later, it hadn't come out of his stomach.
He doesn't debate calling the police; Will puts on a pair of gloves used for dealing with live bait and does his own mild investigation. He won't be getting any prints off of these, that's for damn sure. After a few minutes, Will places the finger in a small Ziploc baggie, the package itself in a larger one, and marks the time and date. Then he looks at what security footage there is to be found, frowning as he replays the only part that could have been his mysterious finger wagger over and over. It's black and white and shoddy and of course there's no audio, but he's unsettled by the fact he has no idea who's under that trucker hat.
Walter White? Is this Jesse Pinkman's finger? Would he hurt him in such a way? Could be White, could be some nobody's finger (some likely dead nobody), could be a sign.
Will takes off his gloves and burns them in the sink. He sets his evidence on the counter while he painstakingly cleans the table so not even the tiniest trace of blood would show. Then he rolls up his evidence in a trash bag, puts it in another trash bag, seals it all with a strip of duct tape, writes Will's - picking up Saturday on the tape, and gently places it at the back of the shop freezer. Then he shuts the shop down for the night. He checks in on the live bait, gives the place the once over to make sure it's properly tended to, turns out the light, locks the door, and refines the plan of what to do about such morbid and mysteriously sent gifts.
He may bring it to official attention...if he can't find any of the answers on his own. Because this feels personal in ways that aren't just it being sent to him with his name. This feels like a sign and a challenge wrapped in one neat, disturbing package. This feels like a two person show, no desire of a larger audience carrying badges and guns and authority.
He'll give himself the weekend to use his own means, to secure a lab for a few hours if he needs it. He'll give himself the weekend and take it to a higher power after if it feels right. For now, Will's just leaving human remains in his shop freezer and going home.
After he picks up some ice cream, their house does go through it so quickly these days.]