A few days later, Marilou became great friends with Smithy. He would live in the manor alongside her and enjoy giving her jump scares. They went along very well. With Isaac and Lilith, it was something else.

Isaac preferred to greet his sister, with a shy smile. The eldest didn't speak to her much, but for some odd reason, he seemed awkward. Marilou didn't have a clue why.

Was it because of the complicity she gained with Smithy? Was he jealous? Would he, for the first time in his whole life, awkward with the fact that Marilou was talking to someone else than him?

Anyway, the young girl didn't really notice it either. Her friendship with Smithy grew great throughout the days, as they became great friends. Obviously, the fact she was a friend with a man that was supposed to be dead, underground, could trouble anyone who truly thought about it.

Since he revived, it meant that he was supposed to be dead. The simple fact that she discussed with a man from the eighteenth century was doubtful, considering the age difference. Yet it didn't seem to bother either Marilou nor Smithy.

Every time her parents would surprise her speaking with nothing, they'd arch their brows. And every time, Marilou said that she was speaking to herself, although the doubts were getting higher.

Lilith, her, felt alone. She didn't need Smithy-well, not for now. If she had to be honest, never would she tell Marilou or Isaac what she planned to ask him.

The spirit trusted Isaac more than Marilou, for a reason that concerned her. His presence reassured her. Why? She couldn't tell, but it was this way.

Marilou had that aura that sent a shiver along her spine. The manner her bright blue eyes gave a huge mystery, with her frail body and her  coal coloured hairstyle. The girl looked like a witch, in some way. Pretty critical.

As Marilou stepped through the corridors, her chin lifted and her gaze on Smithy, she startled as she heard the noice of a key entering the door lock. Pulling herself out f her trance, the teenager stared at her feet, not daring to say a single word. When her parents barged in, they looked at her, a smile playing on their lips.

- Are you okay, Loulou? Her mother questioned, dropping the grocery bag to the floor

- Staring at the floor won't help your hunger! Her father added, dropping his bag as well

Marilou shifted to them, speechless. Smithy hid behind the door, not wanting to be seen. Obviously, her parents would freak out while seeing an eighty five year old looking man in the mansion.

- Yes-yes, I was distracted, sorry...She admitted, playing with the truth as she smiled nervously

Fortunately, Shannon and Philip stopped inquiring her, bringing the bags to the kitchen. Marilou's throat tightened-she always hated to lie. Yet, the teenager didn't have the courage to speak to Smithy.

She wouldn't forgive herself. Yes, Marilou was the pro to attract problems. Smithy was the alive proof-well, alive, not like the three hundred and five year-old Lilith. The young girl followed her parents in the kitchen, eager to have something to eat.

***

Smithy remained in the old dusty room, trying to hide his frequent coughs. His aged body after his resurrection was in shape, and he was fitting in.

His white hair was coated with white dust every time he took a new step, and he was surprised by how much there was. The man burhsed his fingers along the shelves, having difficulty breathing.

His breathing was a bit heavy, as his boots were hitting the ground. He didn't know how much time he would need to stay in there, but he hoped that Marilou would come over soon. They were good friends, after all. She wouldn't let him down.

Lost in his thoughts, Alfred sat on the couch, scrutinizing around him curiously. His hazel eyes watched around with a ferocious determination, as if it was all a puzzle that he had to solve and to print every detail. The man had never seen such an ancient manor, although he was born in the eighteenth century.

He didn't dare pronounce a single word. Not even whispering. For him, cutting a library's silence was taboo. He felt at peace-he didn't know why, but he did.

Yet, Smithy cleared his throat loudly, swinging his legs back and forth, his expression childish and innocent. He saw himself when he was younger, strolling through the alleys. His malicious laugh, his angelic face, and the bond that he shared with his friends at that time...

He used to be a trouble maker, yet his naivety made everyone believe he was innocent. In the present, he could feel his shoulders lumping down. He didn't have anyone, now. He was a nobody.

Marilou was all he had left. Smithy was condemned to live eternally for a reason that Lilith had chosen. The man wanted to know why, help with it, then rest in peace. His emotions were hitting her like a tsunami, yet he didn't let it show.

It wasn't worthy of him. Well, not of the king he used to be, at the time. Basing himself on his emotions wasn't a good idea- his identity of a dead king brought back to life stopped him. He couldn't let his emotions take over his life.

Hearing sounds in the corridor, Smithy startled. What would he have to do? Who came to him? Most of all, what did this person want from him? Hesitating, the man hid behind a closet.

His heart pounding and his breathing shaky, Alfred waited. Then waited. Seconds passed. Then minutes. Looked like they couldn't end at all. With his point of view, naturally. When the sounds grew lighter, he started to relax. Was Marilou searching for him? He hoped so.

- Marilou? He tried, peeking his head out of his hiding spot

- Yes, it's me, where are you, Smithy? The young girl questioned, her arms brushing the shelves

- Here, behind the closet...He responded, getting out of it slowly

When she noticed him, the teenager squinted her eyes and looked at him up and down, critical. After a few seconds of silence, she affirmed:

- You didn't have to hide, Smithy!

- Well, yes! He retorted as he shrugged, Imagine it would've been your parents!

Desperate, Marilou sighed and walked towards her room, Smithy following her. A few weeks before, they decided that he'd sleep in her closet or under her bed. That way, he would be safer.

Discussing about everything, her voice low, Marilou stopped walking. A voice resounded at the other way of the corridor. A scream. A scream that made them shiver, by the way.

- Marilou, who is this man? Her mother asked in a shake voice.

The concerned one froze, throwing the man a look of concern. "Oh shit."