The Ryman LegacySubstantial Side Story 2

By Mzyra

Choices

Journal number 3, entry 1.

My last journal was cut short by my sudden death at the hands of my sister; I have yet to retrieve it - we know Kimmy is around somewhere, but not yet where, so I have not ventured to her old house in case. When I died I certainly never expected to be resurrected, and if I had had any inkling that that could happen, I wouldn’t have expected to return to a house where my young nephew was older than me, had a teenage daughter and several robots. I never knew he had or would gain so much mechanical expertise…

Nowadays he’s the official city planner for Simfield and spends time, even when he’s not out at work, designing things on his special equipment. He’s certainly very intelligent – far more than I am – and hard working. I’m proud of who he’s become as an adult, even if I didn’t get to see his journey there.

He’s also surprisingly artistic – he can use his designing things to create portraits and scenes; the walls downstairs have several pictures of Tessa and even one of me: he said he wanted pictures of the important people in his life. You can imagine how touched I was, and partly amazed at how much he still remembered me despite all the years that have passed.

I was also quite shocked the first time I saw Tessa. I suppose I should not have been so surprised that there are aliens around given that my sister became a vampire (and that had certainly been a shock at the time), but to know that if you spend too long gazing at the stars with a telescope… The idea was horrifying to me, but apparently it does – or at least it can – result in a relatively normal child, and I would never complain about that.

Apparently Tom was thrilled even at the abduction, having overcome his aversion to the supernatural he got from having evil vampires for parents. I suppose aliens are okay (though abducting people is suspicious), but I wouldn’t be sold on the supernatural just yet myself.

Speaking of the supernatural, it seems that I was not entirely gone for all of these years; Tessa informed me over lunch that I had used to haunt their house before my resurrection and scared both her and her father several times, which is strange because I have no recollection of those events and I certainly wouldn’t have scared them if it really were me.

Tessa questioned me quite a lot on the subject, but I had little to tell her. I can recall nothing since that moment I died, making it feel like I was resurrected just a few hours later, though it had actually been more than three decades

I told her so when she asked and she seemed quite disappointed, but if anybody should be an authority on the supernatural it ought to be her father and not me.

But then she started telling me about other things since I died – not only were there vampires, aliens and robots, there were also witches and warlocks with one of Tessa’s friends’ mum being a good witch and another of her friends’ dad being an evil warlock. It’s like the world’s gone mad! I shouldn’t complain, however, since apparently it was thanks to two of Tessa’s friends who are the children of the evil warlock and the grim reaper (I’m not making this up!) combining their power which was what resurrected me. And Kimmy, of course. Oh, and they accidentally created zombies too. What’s next?!

On the subject of Tessa, unlike the very tranquil picture Tom’s drawn of her as a newborn baby, she’s quite a rambunctious great-niece, forever sliding down the stairs and chatting to her friends on the phone. I suppose she’s a fairly typical teenage girl really, but I grew up with Marina (who was very tough and responsible and wouldn’t take any nonsense), Nicola (who was quiet, nice and well-behaved) and Kimmy (who was a sociopath and god knows what else), so I’m not used to this behaviour. I suppose it comes from being an only-child whose father gave her everything she ever wanted, but at least she’s fairly nice.

I can’t say she’s particularly mature, however. Sometimes I can see some of her father in her – her curiosity about the afterlife and my experiences, for example, and her proficiency with the violin – but most of the time all she ever seems concerned with is socialising and her friends and has a tendency to throw tantrums if she can’t go and see them whenever she wants.

There’s one girl in particular who she calls a ‘friend’, but I’m increasingly certain they’re more than that – at first I found this a little odd, then realised that, given everything else, it really wasn’t. So, as I say, neither I nor Tom are bothered by her interest in girls (Tom’s told me a few of his cousins were the same), but feel the girl she has chosen isn’t ideal.

Not that we’ve successfully broached the subject with her. It seems this ‘Janice Andrews’ brings out the worst in her, but she seems extremely loyal to this girl and talks about her all the time, even though Tom’s told me that she’s gotten Tessa into trouble at school on more than one occasion.

Even since I’ve been here I’ve witnessed the effect she had on Tessa – apparently she’s a few years older than Tessa and it’s almost her birthday, meaning that Tessa lies awake at night sometimes, worried that when her girlfriend becomes an adult she’ll forget all about her. I want to tell her that if this girl would forget about her that easily she’s not a very good friend or girlfriend, but I can tell it wouldn’t do any good. I’ve never been in love, but it seems to rarely go hand-in hand with good decisions.

Anyway, last night it was Tom’s birthday. I can’t get over the fact that he’s gotten old. It seems like just last week he was a child… And it was also shocking some of the people who were there – most I’d never met or even heard of (though May Raymond looks the female spitting image of Sean), but I met Sara – who I last remember seeing as a baby in Marina’s arms – now an elder and Mayor of Simfield! It boggles the mind, it really does.

But I was glad to see so many people at Tom’s birthday party – he’s clearly made a lot of friends, even if they’re mostly relatives. I did feel a bit sad that he’d never married, but apparently he isn’t, so I shouldn’t be either.

Even as an elder it’s a bit unnerving how much Tom looks like his father, albeit without the grey vampire skin. Count Christian’s grave is still in Tom’s back garden, which I find a bit creepy too. When I asked Tom what happened to his parents he said that their roof had fallen in, meaning that they’d both been stuck in sunlight, but I get the feeling he was lying to me, especially when I saw their house from a distance recently and it looks exactly as I last saw it and Kimmy and Christian would have been in their coffins anyway. I hate to think what this means the truth is, so I’ve been making sure that I don’t think about it. If it is suspicious as least his lying suggests that Tom might feel a bit bad about any part he may have played, which I’m sure is more than Kimmy felt about getting rid of me.

Tom’s not exactly pleased to look as old as he does. Tessa told him he could still pull off the same clothes he’s been wearing, but neither of us are certain that he can really. But he seems to stick with it so as not to draw attention to himself, but, like I say, I try not to think about why that is.

I’ve also been trying not to think about the fact that both my parents and all my siblings - bar one – have aged and passed away themselves. I’m hoping that maybe there was an afterlife I can’t remember and maybe we all hung out before I came back. But that might mean Kimmy was there too… Metaphysical questions are difficult.

But they wind up being what I think about on these long days when Tom is out at work, Tessa is out at school and the servo takes care of all the chores. I love my slightly odd and altered family, but there’s not much of a place for me in it. I don’t know any of the rest of the remaining family, I don’t expect I have any friends left around and I didn’t have many ambitions before I died, never mind afterwards. We had thought that I might be needed to counter anything Kimmy tried, but we haven’t seen or heard anything from her since she ran away, which I suppose is good, but I feel very bored and surplus to requirement.

I think I might go out for a walk around the neighbourhood, see how things have changed.

So Terry did.

Not all that much had changed really – most of Simfield was still empty – but there were a number more houses, especially near the sea front, and a building that wasn’t a house: Simfield Jail. Where had that been when he was younger? Still, they got there eventually…

And what was this place? Small and cute, it looked to be a café. Huh, a jail and a café: the first non-residential things to be built in Simfield. Odd priorities.

But Terry had walked quite a long way already and it was a warm day, he could do with a drink. Maybe he’d go in and see what it was like.

Inside it was even more pink than the outside and the only other occupants were a table of girls – one of whom looked to be an alien like Tessa, which was interesting – meaning that, had there not been a men’s bathroom Terry wouldn’t have been certain it wasn’t some women-only establishment. He guessed women went to cafés more than men did.

The service didn’t seem to be very good either. The women on the other table didn’t even have cups so if they hadn’t been served how long would it be before he was?

He considered the doors to the outside area. Maybe it would be nice and cool outside in the shade, he could move out there if a waitress or somebody didn’t come over soon.

He continued to stare at the door, partly out of pure boredom when something began to feel odd about the situation. He only realised what it was when somebody suddenly started talking to him.

“Hello Terry.”

And he half jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Oh, I- Sorry, I didn’t see you sit down.” He didn’t hear her either. What was she, a ninja?!

The woman in purple just stared at him with a slightly… sad look on her face.

“Um, can I help you? Or do you work here?” Maybe she was here alone too and wanted somebody to talk to.

“I’m not a waitress Terry,” she said, shaking her head, still looking a bit sad.

“Um, do I know you?” How did she know his name? How could she know him and be so young when his own siblings were dead of old age? How many people did Tessa’s friends go around resurrecting?

“No, you don’t really know me, but I do know you. I know all about you, Terry.”

Right, that wasn’t creepy at all… But how was that possible? Maybe it was some kind of trap by Kimmy, though it would have to be very well thought out and she never used to be like that… “You realise that sounds suspicious, right?”

She nodded. “I don’t blame you for thinking about Kimmy right now, but this is nothing to do with her. And to prove that I haven’t just got information from her; you used to read Tom Buffy the Vampire Slayer books before bedtime as a form of resistance against Kimmy and Christian. And you wish Tessa would stop seeing Janice but are afraid to say that to her in case she gets angry or upset. Good choice, by the way.”

He looked at her for a minute or two, trying to figure her out. There was one answer he wouldn’t be surprised at since he came back… “Are you psychic?”

“Um… that’s a good way of thinking about it I suppose. I could explain the whole thing, but… That’s not why I’m here Terry. I’m here for you. To make you an offer, more precisely.”

“An offer?” What did Terry have that anybody else could want? What did she know about him that had lead to this? It was weird thinking that somebody could read your mind and know all about you…

“The thing is, Terry… You’re not happy here. You’ll never be happy here.”

“What do you mean? My whole family’s here! Where else could I possibly be happy?”

“The family you were born into, yes. But not a family of your own. The best you could ever hope to have in this neighbourhood is possibly a wife, but you will never have children of your own here.”

“How can you possibly know that? Surely it’s my choice!”

“It’s predetermined. Think about your… shape. No matter how hard you work out here, how little you eat, you will never shift that stomach. No matter how much you may want them, you will never be allowed to have children here. You were never going to be.”

“You can tell this with your… psychic-ness?”

“Yes. Originally I accepted it, but then all that rubbish stuff happened to you… I want to make you happy Terry, I feel bad about everything you were put through.”

Did this woman just imply she’d been around since Terry was a child? Were psychics immortal?! “What makes you think I’m not happy though? I have Tom and Tessa-”

“I know you love and care about them, but you only live once Terry and you cannot tell me that deep down you don’t want at least 6 grandchildren. And in order to have grandchildren you have to have children, and in order to get them you have to leave.”

“So… What’s this whole thing you’re proposing then? I leave Simfield, move somewhere else and start a family? That’s all you’re saying?”

“Essentially, though there are a few more… rules. I don’t think you’d dislike any of them though, they’re generally pretty positive and compatible with your personality and general outlook.”

This sounded suspicious all of a sudden. “What kind of rules, specifically?”

“Well, off the top of my head, there’s a rule by which there have to be at least three pregnancies per generation – there are four generations including you – and then there are kind of mini-challenges within it; having a garden gnome that can be stolen and retrieved, flamingos on the lawn, supernatural family members – as if you don’t have enough of those… It’s that kind of stuff. The primary thing is the family though and we both know that that’s what you’re all about. I promise I’ll try and stop you having any more suffering than you’ve already had, but I don’t foresee anything coming up that way.”

“… If you’re telling the truth that does sound kind of nice… A house with a white picket fence and children running around… But… I can’t just abandon the family I already have to run off and do stuff like that!”

The woman sighed and muttered something that sounded like ‘You nice sims always make this so difficult’! before properly speaking to him again. “Look Terry, your parents, Marina, Sean and Nicola are all gone. You have a ton of nieces and nephews running around, but they’re all older than you, meaning that you’ll sit around watching your only remaining authentic relatives age and die before you yourself do and there’ll be none of your own children to follow you. I know there’s Tessa and everyone else, but at that kind of distance you don’t even count as a relative! And most of them don’t know you anyway. You wouldn’t be abandoning anyone. Tom would understand.”

“Okay, look. Even if that were all true and I might be interested… You say you know and understand me, but you should know I can’t just leave now – Kimmy’s alive and around again and who knows what she’ll do?!”

“Kimmy’s not your responsibility, Terry.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t be, but I know her better than anybody except possibly Tom and I feel responsible to make sure that she doesn’t hurt anybody else. If I leave while she’s still on the loose that really would be abandoning the family in the worst possible way. If you’re as psychic as you say you are, you must understand that.”

“Don’t worry about Kimmy, Terry. That situation is… under control.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have… plans for her.”

“That hasn’t actually clarified what you mean.”

“Basically, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her, she’ll be no threat to anybody.”

Terry stared at the woman, uncertain if she was crazy or stupid or genuinely had some kind of ace up her sleeve, which if she was an immortal psychic she might, but… “I’m not sure you understand what you’re getting into there. I know you’re psychic or whatever, but if all you can do is read minds, that’s not much protection – you can’t be in several places at once. And Kimmy did kill me – she can be seriously threatening.”

To Terry’s frustration, the woman just rolled her eyes and smiled wider. “I told you, I know. And I’m sorry about the whole death thing. But even if you’re not going to take my word for it – Kimmy’s not a vampire any more and she won’t become one to make sure she doesn’t get killed the same way twice. She’s a regular – if slightly sociopathic – sim and I have… my ways. I can be extremely persuasive.”

“… O-kay….” Terry responded slowly, still unconvinced.

“Look Terry, the Rymans have other problems on their plate that don’t include Kimmy and you can’t help them much with those, you’ve been out of the loop for too long. Consider this like… retirement to a long and happy life. Er, technically, due to a time anomaly, you’d actually start off younger in your new home, possibly even young enough to go to college this time.

But you don’t have decide right now, you can go home, talk to Tom and Tessa and anybody else you feel the need to, check out the details and make your mind up. But it’ll be better if you do. And anybody who cares about you should be happy for you to do this too.”

Terry got up and went to leave, thinking things over, when suddenly the woman ran up to him.

“Er, this may sound odd since you think we’re strangers, but please can I get a hug?” all of a sudden she looked very child-like and hopeful and Terry didn’t have the heart to turn her down. It was a surprisingly long and tight hug and Terry was certain that he heard her whisper “I’m going to make you so happy, Terry Ryman” before she eventually let go. She even looked a bit like she had tears in her eyes. “Now get out of here quickly or everyone’s going to want one!” she whispered with a smile.

*********

Kimmy wandered the dark streets of Simfield alone. She’d walked all the way from where she was living downtown, but she hadn’t really planned ahead. She’d been bored and wanted to see something familiar, so had wandered out towards her old home. Seeing that they’d built a jail was pretty entertaining. Apparently one Marina’s children was in there for murder – she hoped Marina had lived long enough to see that and feel all the sadness and shame that she probably would have done.

It also occurred to her that she might be able to get Tom put in there for killing her – and Christian – but then she could probably be put in there for the same thing. It’d make more sense to get less legalistic revenge in her situation.

Then Kimmy spotted somewhere new. Shabby brickwork, a beat-up old sofa for people to smoke on, no windows and loud music she could hear from the outside – who’d built a dive bar in sweet little Simfield? She had to check this out…

It must be new; Marina would have set up a citizens’ council to get it removed due to its moral indecency, Nicola would have worried about its effect on the impressionable little children and Sean would have complained about its impact on house prices in the area. Kimmy loved it already.

Ah, it was everything she expected. Even better, in fact – normally places like this would be seriously dirty on every surface and even the ceiling, but this place was new – it gave the impression of being dirty, but had yet to actually accumulate it. Rebellious and anti-social yet practically spotless? Oh, it was close to heaven. Though she doubted they’d invented a grilled cheese smoothie to be served in bars yet, but a girl could dream…

And of course the place was practically empty. There was a bartender but she seemed practically comatose even while stood there and there was nothing particularly surprising about that in Kimmy’s experience.

This would be the perfect place to plot angrily against her brother and son, whilst getting as steadily wasted as she saw fit. And none of her nice little family members would dare to come in somewhere like this, she was sure.

She picked up one of the drinks on the bar – the bartender didn’t even look at her, almost as if she couldn’t see her – and sipped it. She’d never been one for alcohol before; it did provide a good excuse for why you were getting into fights with people, but personally she didn’t want an excuse other than being her; she’d hate for people to think that somehow she didn’t mean the insults she used. This drink tasted very… alcohol-y. Almost like medicine.

That was another good thing about this bar – no men around who’d take her drinking as a sign that they could hit on her, though that also meant that she couldn’t make any men suffer for trying to hit on her… There was always a grey cloud to every silver lining.

So, she thought sitting down, plotting. It wasn’t like she had much else to do with her time now anyway, except sit around and age. And eat grilled cheese sandwiches, but she could only do that so much without gaining weight – and she wasn’t doing that and being anything like her stupid little brother.

First things first: where things went wrong last time. Bloody Christian bloody Mamuyac! This time no marriage and definitely no pregnancies. Forget men altogether, in fact. She’d rely on herself as much as possible. This was also useful because she didn’t have to make any effort to get Christian’s grave back or resurrect him – the stupid man could rot forever for all she cared.

Right, so she would get revenge on Tom and Terry. The most obvious way was through his daughter Tessa, but surely she’d know something about her grandmother by now, at least enough that she wouldn’t just come over to visit or whatever if she was offered sweets. It’d have to be kidnap or something and the girl had friends, so that would be difficult even if she stayed around her school instead of the house… Kimmy thought hard, staring at the floor while trying to get comfortable on the hard bar-stool. Gouda, she’d never had to think this hard about anything before, it was annoying.

She glanced around the room for inspiration and was immediately distracted as she almost burst out laughing.

She looked away and tried to refocus her mind. Apparently she wasn’t the only one in the bar and apparently the other occupant had had far more to drink than she herself had because the stupid blonde was dancing like an idiot, falling over or stumbling every few seconds.

The urge to go over and berate and humiliate the girl was overwhelming, but Kimmy had to fight it – if she drew too much attention to herself word might get around and that wasn’t what she wanted. She just had to sit and focus… Form a plan about kidnapping her son’s precious daughter…

But then drunken blonde made the severe mistake of coming over and sitting right next to Kimmy. Gouda, she was wearing like an inch of make-up too. Kimmy felt physical pain in her stomach as she fought the urge to ridicule this idiot and everything she stood for. The same part of Kimmy was feeling disappointed that there wouldn’t be much of an audience if she did, so maybe she could hold off.

“Heeeeey!” the girl called cheerily to her over less than a metre’s distance, “Are you going to finish that drink?”

Kimmy just narrowed her eyes at her.

“Hey, did anybody ever tell you that wearing sunglasses indoors isn’t half as cool as you think it is?”

“No, as a matter of fact they didn’t,” Kimmy returned in a playfully friendly voice. “Did anybody ever tell you that you dance like a dead animal that has an electrical current put through it and the amount of alcohol and make-up on you makes you look like a desperate clown who got rejected by all the other clowns, probably on the basis of your completely retarded dancing, as well your stupidity, ugliness and… smell.” She only just stopped herself adding ‘So there.’ on the end and waited for what she’d said to sink in to the drunken empty-headed blondes’ mind so she could appreciate the hurt look on her face.

But, to her annoyance, there wasn’t one.

“Heeeeey, I know you! You’re Kimmy Mamumermermer…ac. Right?!”

“Firstly, it’s Mamuyac and secondly I ditched that name and the man it came with, so no. And thirdly, how the hell do you know who I am?”

“Duuuude! You’re like a legend still at Simfield High School! At first it was just ‘cause everyone said you were the most craziest pupil ever, but then the whole Twilight thing came around again and some of the girls got it into their heads that you were like Bella because you married a vampire and had a baby… You’re like a celebrity to us!”

A celebrity, huh? Kimmy guessed she could live with that, but the whole sparkly vampire Twilight thing would need quashing sooner or later.

“But duuuude! What happened to you?”

“Huh? Oh, I died-”

“Naaah! Not that – I mean, look at you! Seriously? Those trousers? With that shirt? God, we had teachers dressed better than you! You look awful! I mean, at least when you were a vampire you might have been scary, but now you just look stupid and ugly! Wait until I tell everyone about this!”

And now Kimmy was annoyed.

She cooled herself down – it would be a lot harder to tear someone’s throat out now. “Gosh, remind me why I should care what some drunken, drop-out, airhead bimbo thinks about who I am, what I do or how I look? Please, I’ve killed better people than you and I thought he was an idiot. As far as I’m concerned you’re the scum of the universe and might as well be dead already.” Why did Kimmy care what she looked like? She blamed Christian and that ‘sexy’ outfit he’d given her. She’d gotten used to caring how she looked and now she couldn’t stop. Damn you, Christian Mamuyac!

“I’m not a drop-out,” the blonde protested, “I’m an important trans-continental ambassador! I just… like a drink sometimes. And I don’t mean to be insulting or whatever – don’t get all defensive – I just think you could be doing so much better for the ‘Kimmy Ryman’ name! It makes me sad to think about all that potential for stuff going to waste.”

Ah, a nice person. The kind of idiot who does charitable things for free. This had become interesting, she thought as she let any remaining anger drain away. “So what is it that you think I should be doing for my name?”

“Ah man, you could be a hero!”

“…Being a hero isn’t exactly my thing.”

“No, no – there’s this other country I’m linked to and things have been really bad there ever since there was a big nuclear explosion and they need people from places like this to go and help sort things out!”

Kimmy laughed hollowly, “Look, you’ve clearly taken to this Twilight image thing too seriously – that sounds like exactly the kind of nice charitable crap that is so wrong for me that, to put it in your language, if it were clothes it’d make this outfit look good by comparison.” She got up to leave the conversation and emphasise her point.

“Okay, okay, I didn’t put it very well. It wouldn’t be going out and feeding the homeless or whatever, you’d basically just get a job and by working and earning money you would improve the whole area! You’d be doing what most people do every day, but people would practically worship you for it! They’d build your statue in the streets, you could do no wrong! Anybody you snubbed would be snubbed by everybody else because you did it. Anything you wear everyone else would wear because you’d be such a famous trendsetter! You’d have your own cult of personality with less than half the effort! Now tell me that that wouldn’t suit you!”

Kimmy laughed slightly. That was a good image. It was all very well not caring what other people thought when you knew they probably either didn’t care or didn’t like it, but when you knew they did care and would desperately emulate you as the height of society… That was something she could get behind. “I suppose you’d have me there, it does sound nice…”

The two women laughed together for a moment, which was odd – Kimmy didn’t think she’d ever laughed with anyone else before, she’d only laughed at people.

“And of course, that would be all very well- if I trusted you,” Kimmy altered her stance as the blonde’s smile faded. “You’re aren’t half as drunk as you’ve been pretending to be – nobody as drunk as that is as coherent as you became, so you’ve been playing it up and if you’ve been lying to me in one way…”

The blonde gave up her drunken pose and facial expression. “So what? What I was talking about is still there for you.”

“Ha, you say that. Once upon a time I was told that all children love that parents – that can happen, but it’s far from guaranteed. And I think that little scenario you painted for me isn’t guaranteed either and I think you know that anyway. And while I respect your not being as nice as you seemed, I don’t like it.”

“So you don’t want to do it?”

“Well, my future’s pretty open actually, so maybe we can talk again – after I’ve dealt with some unfinished business around here,” she turned to leave. “Ask somebody else to start it off, then I might go later and replace them, it probably wouldn’t be hard if it’s some stupid naïve do-gooder.” She reached the door and held the handle, “Oh, and get some acting lessons while I’m gone – you need them.”

She pulled on the door. She pushed on the door. Okay, they were pretty heavy doors, but she wasn’t that weak; “Hey, what idiot locked the door? We can’t get out!”

Kimmy looked at the blonde, who didn’t look panicked in the slightest. “’Fraid I can’t let you go Kimmy. I made a promise about protecting the family from you and I have more plot going on here than I can handle already, I don’t need you stomping all over it with your vengeance trip.”

She stared at the blonde. “Who the hell are you?!”

But then the room began to spin. Kimmy felt hot and sick and she couldn’t focus her eyes. “What have you done to me?”

“Spiked your first drink. Honestly Kimmy, you should know better, but you were never really that bright, especially not as bright as you think you are.”

Kimmy wanted to hit the stupid bitch for daring to mess with her, but she knew she was at least a few metres away and Kimmy couldn’t figure out which black surface she could see was the floor. “Why?!” she shouted – she’d never seen this blonde girl in her life, what had she ever done to her?

“Well, you see, the thing is Kimmy… I like a challenge, and I believe in justice. Oh, and you know that situation I was telling you about?”

“I wasn’t really giving you a choice.”

Coming Soon…ish!

Terry Heaven

An OWBC

Kimmy Hell

An Apocalypse