“Fuck this place,” Bruce muttered from the passenger seat of the charger. He leaned forward, looking at the dark sky above the tattered, single-floor home. It looked like a doll house, worn to the seams. Chipped, wooden siding clung tentatively to the frame under a wood-tiled, overhanging roof. The tiny yard was encased by a picket fence that looked like it might disintegrate at any moment, held together by vines and battle worn flowers. Bruce shuddered.

A muffled rattle filled in the interior of the Charger. Bruce, Zer0 and Aury collectively furrowed their brows.

“Look,” Zer0 declared. “We’re stuck. Do you know what to do?” Aury pressed his lips to the side. “What about you, short-pants?” Bruce sneered. “Exactly. And we all know who knows.” She pointed at the house like she was popping an invisible balloon. “So, the choice is easy. We can fuck around, or we can find out.” Another muffled scratching sound rang out. It sounded like a freshly declawed cat furiously scratching against the carpet. A second sound followed like someone trying to smother a snoring dog. Bruce and Aury looked at Zer0. “Fuck off!” she said at the leering pair.

“She’s right,” Aury sighed, casting an apprehensive look at Bruce.

“Fuck this place,” Bruce muttered under his breath.

The trio emptied the from the car and made their way up the sidewalk, passing cautious glances at the short building that didn’t match the other houses on the block. A soft wind rustled off-tuned wind chimes that clanked from the chipping, whitewashed porch. Zer0 looked down and caught eyes with a tortured-looking garden gnome and grimaced away, turning the vibrating cardboard box with her. Muffled sounds rang out. Aury and Bruce looked over their shoulders. Zer0 sneered and shook the box giving it a wild-eyed glance.

Bruce shook his head in forced disgust at the sounds, stopped in front of the door, and realized he’d been duped. The other two were standing several paces back, leaving him the only one in striking range of the door. He furrowed his brow at the traitors, raising his hands as though to ask “that the hell is wrong with you guys?” Zer0 gestured him forward with a head motion and Aury looked away, rubbing his neck with a screwed-up face. Bruce shook his head again. “Fuck this place,” he muttered raising a fist to knock. But before he could rap his knuckles against the ancient wooden door it swung open with an exaggerated creak that grated against everyone’s teeth. Bruce inhaled and coughed into his hand as the smell of rose, lavender, and particularly bitter, orange invaded his lungs.

He turned back. He was so visibly offended his face looked like someone was tugging on his ears from behind. Zer0 egged him forward with her head again, this time her face joined the shove. If she glared any harder, he may have needed medical attention.

Guadalupe Benicio De La Cruz Flórez lowered his gaze, curled his lip, and marched into the house. And, embiggened by Bruce’s bolt of courage, the others trailed in behind him.

Every piece of furniture in the would-be dollhouse was adorned in at least one lace doily and a thick layer of dust. Bruce did a double take at the row of cloaks with arms drawn to a bell and the collection of three-quarter-length coats outfitted with ruffles. He looked behind him, sharing the puzzled look.

“Pray enter.” A deep, drawling voice resonated through the house, almost shaking the flecking paint from the walls. “Do remove your coats, however. We are not barbarians.” Bruce rolled his eyes as the other two shared a look. The muffled scrubbing noise rattled out again. “Is that a gift for me? Oh do open the box.”

“No one wants that,” Bruce answered.

“Is that sir Flórez I hear?” the voice announced with a perk. Bruce Grimaced. “You’ve not graced my court in some time, Guadalupe.”

“Bruce.”

“Oh, do humor an old woman.”

Bruce snarled as he started jerking at the sleeves on his poorly fit canvas jacket. Aury and Zer0 quietly followed suit.

They hung their jackets next to Bruce’s, on the tall coat rack just behind the door and bounced into a little jog, struggling to keep pace with Bruce, who was walking like he was headed to battle.

The narrow hall opened into a dank room that looked smoky despite the lack of any flame or candles. The sun shone hazy through the thick lace curtains, catching dust particles that danced in the beams.

“Duchess,” Aury said, as they entered. Zer0 unknowingly performed a subtle curtsy.

“If it’s not my favorite trio of ecto-hunters,” the woman drawled from a slightly elevated platform where she sat in high-backed chair. She was dressed in a black, lace-lined dress that would have brushed against the ground as she walked if it wasn’t for the platformed Mary Jane shoes. Powder-white flesh poked through fishnet stockings as her free leg swung, perched and crossed at the knee. “And to you, my lovely,” she added, aiming a subtle head nod to Bruce.

“We need information,” Bruce announced. Zer0 cleared her throat and Aury took a step forward.

“Please,” Aury added.

“I’m happy to see you’ve not changed,” the Duchess said to Aury. Her soft face became stern but still interested as she looked at Bruce. It looked like she could take a bite out him. “You too, my love.” Bruce sneered. That scrubbing sound rang out again. “This is why we’re all here, is it not? Information.”

“Something’s going on,” Bruce declared. “And you’re the one who knows things.”

“I know things that affect me, young sir Flórez, but it’s a reach to believe I care about things that impact others,” The Duchess’s eyes apathetically blinked as she glanced at the box.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. He took the box from Zer0 and walked with it to the center space in front of the Duchess’s court. He shook it. The box scrubbed, rattled, and muffled again.

“A gift for me?” she mused. “You shouldn’t have.”

“What have you heard about the Victorian,” Bruce spat.

“We parted ways some time ago, sir Flórez, but you knew that.” The two blinked at each other, their stare becoming icy. Zer0 and Aury exchanged uneasy glances as they both gulped. “Besides!” the Duchess finally broke, waving a lazy hand like she was shooing a fly. “Even if I wanted to know, we no longer speak. History can be weighty.” The box scuffled again. “Oh, do show me my gift.”

Bruce shook the box. “Guess what it is,” he said through a devilish smile.

“Is this a way to speak to your elders, sir?”

“I’ll give you a hint.” Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Two demons were sent to get it.” The Duchess’s eyes narrowed. “They attacked Z in the process.”

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“Where?” she pressed.

“Willow Street Elementary School.”

She uncrossed her legs, recrossing them and adjusting in her seat. “A medium being attacked by demons in a vortex is nothing new, my love.”

“It was daytime,” Bruce added. The Duchess’s eyes flashed, taking in all three of them before landing squarely on the box. “And they had names.”

“Open that box,” she hissed.

Bruce squatted, never breaking eye contact with the Duchess. He set the box down with a firm thump which was not at all necessary, then stood.

The box shuffled again before the flaps popped open, a tiny green fist triumphantly thrusting through, spewing profanity the whole time.

“The fuck’s wrong with you mushroom eaters? Lock me in a box, ya sideways muffins.” A leg swung up and over the edge, dragging the bean-stuffed bottom and another leg behind it. It wiggled as he struggled to get out. “Got half a mind to bollocks the lot of ya, I do. And why do you call this thing a bear? Little cloth claws. Sounded like I was scrubbin’ pans, trying to scratch my way out of there. And if you think I’m trustin’ even one of you lot again…” His voice trailed off as he looked up.

The Duchess slowly lifted a single eyebrow as her chin raised and she looked down on Pepper.

If the little bear had an anus, he would have shat a bean.

“You’re beautiful…” he breathed.

“Of course, I am, dear,” the Duchess responded. She looked at Bruce. “I’m intrigued. I have some questions for you, good sir…” she trailed off.

“Culpepper, m’lady.” Pepper stuttered. “Bartholomew Culpepper.”

“Sir Culpepper,” she echoed. “You’d grace me with answers, yes?” The bear nodded. “And you wouldn’t lead me astray, would you, sir?” Pepper’s head shook so hard his little ears slapped against his face. “Lovely. Tell me. Who sits on the throne?”

“Queen Victoria, m’lady.”

“And how long has she graced the throne, sir?”

“Longer than my twenty-three years,” Pepper answered. Zer0 and Aury glanced at each other.

“Twenty-three?” Zer0 mouthed. Aury shrugged.

“And tell me, good sir Culpepper,” the Duchess continued. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“No, mum,” Pepper lamented. “My sister. Well, she was hungry and. Well, I sometimes nick what we need.” He wrung his green mitts together. “It was her birthday, you see. And… It was just a little dolly; a porcelain one. I know I shouldn’t,” he said, standing up straight. “But I did. Next thing I know I’m being joshed around by these dollymops… er… fine… uh. Fine folk.” He adjusted his stance. “They said I was in a bean baby. Next thing I knew I was stuffed in a box and fighting for my life. Then I was here lookin’ up at you, your grace.” He shuffled his feet. “I dare say it was worth it, mum.”

“A Victorian taken from his era and held in place by love for someone else,” the Duchess said. She looked at Aury. “I don’t have to tell you how powerful an artifact that can be, do I?” Aury blinked, his eyes narrowing. “Two named demons, in the daylight, and an anchor point in time,” she mused. “What’s missing?”

“I’ve been called every week for a month,” Aury spoke up. “They’ve been getting more intense, Duchess.” She settled into her seat, never losing her perfectly poised look. “They were minor possessions at first, but now they’re impacting wider places.”

“You fear a Century’s Turn?” she said, making hard eye contact. She blinked away. “This is the way of things,” she sighed. “The Victorian era may be coming to a close. And an anchor artifact? That could be a powerful weapon in a dangerous game. But who are we to denote the way of things, Crixus? Are we not pawns in a queen’s game?”

“Change is fine,” Aury answered. “Balance is all I want.”

“Fuck that,” Bruce spat. “They attacked Z.”

“A knight, then?” the Duchess announced. Bruce’s lip curled. She looked at Zer0. “And a bishop.” Zer0’s eyes swept the ground. “Even if I could raise a hand against my cousin, you know I couldn’t help. Outcast or not, my place is not one of action. But I could offer a bit of advice.”

“That’s all we ask,” Aury responded.

“Then I suggest you speak to the Greengate.”

“The Greengate Gang?” Pepper sputtered. “Thems not the folk to bustle with, I’ll say.”

“You’ve been gone a long while, young sir Culpepper,” the Duchess soothed. “I’ll let your new friends fill you in on the goingson between then and now, but I can assure you: The Greengate gang is no longer the band of ruffians you remember. They’re a whole new breed of dangerous.”

“A bunch of pompous asshats,” Zer0 scoffed.

“A rook, then?” the Duchess added with a smile.

“Thank you for your help, Duchess,” Aury added.

“I didn’t help,” she asserted. “And if anyone asks, you’ll do well to tell them that. For both our sakes. As for you, young Culpepper.” The bear grasped himself about his haunches and adjusted his beans so he could stand as tall as possible. “Your charge is to assist this group in their mission.”

“Yes, mum,” Pepper stated. “But… uh… What’s the mission, exactly?”

“Only the most important mission, child. The world must change. Powers must be exchanged, and houses must rise and fall. If it is in fact time, our job is to ensure the world survives that change.”

The band of four gathered themselves exchanging glances and turned toward the door.

“That wasn’t so bad, eh Bruce?” Zer0 whispered.

“Do me a kindness, sir Flórez,” the Duchess announced as they moved to exit. “Make sure you’re the last to leave. It’s a shame when you exit my court, but I do so enjoy the view.”

“Fuck this place…”

---------------------------

“Well, I got questions.” Pepper said as they walked, coatless, into the windy city air. Exiting was more important than comfort. “Hey!” he said, jumping out of the way of the swinging screen door. “I’m still back here. HEY!” He jumped again, almost being trampled by a grumpy Bruce.

“Well, if you get out from underfoot,” Bruce gruffed.

“I’m not a cat, ya overstuffed badger. Maybe if you watched where you trampled.”

“What questions do you have?” Aury interrupted, stopping at the end of the stoop, and investigating the grey sky.

“Two,” Pepper stated. “Well, maybe three. First.” He adjusted his mitt as though it was a single digit. “What’d the pretty lady mean when she said I’d been gone a while? What’s going on?”

“You died,” Bruce said flatly. Zer0 shot him a look. “What? It’s true. Best to just get it out. You’re dead, Pepper. Based on your memories, probably a hundred twenty, a hundred thirty years ago. It likely happened when you were grabbing that doll. That’s how we found you. Your soul was bound to a porcelain doll. But the doll broke and, when we opened the box you were in, your soul found that beanie baby. So now you’re a bear.”

“Jesus fuck, Bruce,” Zer0 added.

“What??”

“I’m dead?” Pepper breathed. The group stopped and looked back. The neon green bear’s ears drooped as his unblinking button eyes swept sidewalk in front of him. The three exchanged hushed glances. “A hundred years,” he whispered. “That means everyone else is gone too…”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Bruce said, the stitches of his mouth pursed to the side.

“Ah fuck ‘em,” Pepper announced. He started walking again. “’Cept for my sister—god rest her soul—wasn’t a single bugger out there worth a damn. Dance on their bloody graves, I should. Hope they remember me too.” Zer0’s eyebrows raised so high they may have jumped off her face.

“That’s a good way to handle it, I guess,” Bruce said, his eyebrows rising to meet Zer0’s.

“Number two,” Pepper said, adjusting his paws to make it look like two fingers were extended but instead it looked like he was doing the Vulcan solute through a mitten. “Are we really fixing to cuff with the Greengate boys?”

“The Greengaters aren’t a street gang,” Zer0 said. “They were back when you were… uh.. alive.” She winced.

“It’s fine, love,” Pepper asserted, his little legs blurring as he fought to keep up with the three humans.

“But not anymore,” she continued. “Now they’re part of one of the Frays.”

“Frays?” Pepper echoed.

“Factions of hunters,” Bruce added. “They focus on era-based spectral incursion. Depending on the era from which the supernatural force originates, a particular Fray is called in to handle it. Within the larger Frays are smaller houses called Mobs. The Greengate Gang started as enforcers on the streets of London. After a run-in with some nasty possessions, they changed their aim. Now they’re one of the most powerful Mobs in the Victorian Fray.”

“Bunch of pompous asshats is what they are,” Zer0 spat.

“And we have to talk to ‘em, eh?” Pepper continued. He caught eyes with Aury. Aury stared, blinked, and opened the door the charger with a sharp jerk. “He’s not fond of that lot, I gather,” Pepper added with a nod.

“Aury has history,” Zer0 said, before she opened the front passenger door.

“Don’t we all, love. Don’t we all. Oh!” Pepper scurried in front of Bruce. Bruce stopped and looked down, hand on the door handle. “And three,” he said. “Seems we’re gonna be spending some time together, you and I, old chap. What say I get a ride in that cozy lookin’ pocket on your thigh, huh? Seems a shame something bear shaped shouldn’t have a bear in it.”

Bruce opened the door. “Get in the damn car.”

“Alright, alright! You don’t need to be so gruff. Don’t know what’s twisted your nickers.”

The charger wobbled under the weight of the four and hummed to life. It pulled onto the empty street as the Duchess removed the finger holding the curtain open and a shadow with green eyes flashed its yellowing teeth and disappeared into the sewer.