Farrow & Barbol Prequel (Complete)

    You’re a young mother, and you’re alone. You had made the decision to keep your baby, and everyone made you feel like it was the stupid idea. The father ran away, and to the security of his parents who assured him, you were the one at fault. You turned to your parents, and they gave you about as much as help as you expected. You quit school and worked all the way through your pregnancy. 

    You were lucky enough to find the job that you got, and despite your condition, you took every shift you could get. No one seemed to blink twice except for the shift manager over you.

    “Are you sure?” He asks. He’s young, probably just a few years older than you, but because his mom is a big wig with the company, he has this lord of the manor job. 

    “What do you mean am I sure?” You ask him.

    He glances at your stomach and then back at you. “Don’t you want to rest at all?”

    “I’m never going to get to rest,” you scoff at him. “I might as well get used to it and make money off of it.”

    He smiles shyly. “If anything should happen just call me. Ok?”

    You wonder if he's sympathetic or demeaning. Well, it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t register on your things to care about scale. You had bought furniture for the baby’s room, and you needed to go make the down payment to take it home. You had purchased it from an antique store, the woman inside was selling them for a steal. It included a chest of drawers, massive wardrobe, a vanity, as well as a bed frame you could use, and she even threw in a bassinet for free. Everything was white and lovely with roses carved into the wood. You loved it at first sight and knew it was something you could use forever. You had to give her the down payment today, or she was going to sell it to the next in line.

    “Checks will be ready by the end of my shift right?” You ask him before you turn to return to work.

    He looks up, a little wide-eyed by he smiles. “Yeah of course.”

    You smile back. “Good. I’ll need it!” You slip on your work vest and head back into the store. 

    You work all day, but in the back of your mind, you imagine how you’re going to do the room up. You keep imagining layouts, and you smile to yourself, seeing yourself asleep in the lovely bed while the baby sleeps in the bassinet beside you.

    As you get off work, you go to pick up your check, but there’s nothing there. You catch the shift manager, you want to say his name is Henry or something. “Hey,” you grab his arm. “Where are the checks at?”

    “Uh,” he hesitates. “They haven’t been signed yet. They will be at the end of the day.”

    You stare at him in disbelief. “I...I needed that today!”

    “I know, I’m sorry,” he leads you into his office and closes the door. “Here,” he takes out his wallet, and he hands you his credit card.

    “What?” You scoff at his offer and slap the card from his hand. 

    “No, please, I mean it,” he kneels down to pick the card up, and he holds it up to you again. “Whatever you need, go get it.”

    “I don’t need pity!” You snap at him. “Least of all from you!”

    The look he gives you makes you realize that he’s not demeaning you at all. If anything he’s empathetic to your situation. “It’s for furniture,” you admit to him.

    “And?” he chuckles. “Please.” He takes your hand and makes it clasp around the card. “You’re the hardest worker we’ve got here and for no reason other than blind stubbornness.”

    You chuckle and smile at him. 

    “I’ll pay for it. If you want I’ll even help you move it.” He releases your hand, so you’re holding his card.

    You shake your head. “Why are you doing this?”

    “Does it matter?” He asks. 

    “I’ll pay back every cent,” you insist. “I’ll keep the receipts I’ll even sign a contract if you want me to.”

    He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, please. Considering this a gift.”

    “I will pay it back,” you say. “I will.”

    You go to the antique shop and pay for the furniture, you smile with pride at it, excited to get it home. The owner has you write down your address, and she calls her movers. You go home and sweep up the empty floor. Your parents have given you the guest house out back, it’s more like a renovated shed, but it will be better than nothing. 

    Once the furniture is delivered and set up, you feel as if you can actually do this. You touch your belly and sigh. “It’ll be ok little one.” You feel them kick and you smile. 

    Your phone chimes and you answer it. It’s your boss, Henry or whatever.

    “How did it go?” He asks.

    You take a picture of the furniture and then a picture of the receipt. “Thank you again. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

    “How about a date?”

    You feel as if your baby has eaten your lungs. “A date?”

    “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to, but I’ve been too scared.”

    “You do know I’m pregnant right?”

    “I do. I don’t care.”

    You’re not sure how to respond. You feel a little dazed actually. Even the guy who knocked you up didn’t want you, and you were pretty sure he’d fuck anything. You look back at your phone and his responses. You remember his face in his office and his gentleness towards you.

    “Maybe,” you tell him. “Tomorrow. Let’s start out as friends and see what happens.”

    “Sounds good. I’ll plan some things and let you know.”

    You set your phone aside as your heart races. You lay down in the bed and gaze up at the ceiling. For a moment, you think how nice it will be to have a father for your baby. You take a deep breath and sigh.

    “Please,” you whisper. “Please send some to guard her, someone to love her and guide her.” You feel tears slip down your cheeks. “I want her to be safe.” You sniffle and rub at your eyes. Someone then hands you a tissue. “Oh, thank you,” You sit up and blow your nose into the tissue.

    You then freeze. You twitch and look at the hand that lingers there. It is black and spindly, the fingers are long like spider’s legs. It waves at you then slips back under the bed.

    Your mouth hangs open, and you’re not sure what to do. Were you hallucinating? Were you dreaming?

    “Oh great, now you’ve scared her!” A voice rumbles.

    You jerk, looking in the direction of the wardrobe.

    “You spoke first! If anything, you’re the one that’s more worrisome. She was crying, what was I supposed to do? Make her get up?”

    “Yes! She’s fine, she can walk.”

    “She’s heavily pregnant,” the voice under the bed sighs. “How cruel are you?”

    “Cruel enough to know she doesn’t need a terror right now!” The wardrobe snaps back. “You could have killed the baby scaring her like that you know?”

    “Excuse me,” your voice cracks. “Wh-who is there?”

    The wardrobe clicks its tongue. “No, you’ve done.”

    “Sure,” one of the long hands reaches out from the foot of the bed and points at the wardrobe. “Blame it all on me.” The hand then stretches out to you. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

    “What the fuck?” You gasp quietly. 

    “You’re scaring her more!” The wardrobe snaps.

    “I am introducing myself!” The hand holds itself open. “I’m so sorry. We’re both being rude to you. I’m Farrow, and the asshole in the wardrobe is Barbol.”

    The wardrobe opens, and you gaze in horror as something huge steps out. Their head is shaped like a hammerhead shark, but their body is hulking and massive and covered by thick, black fur. Their eyes glow on either side of their head, and they turn and look at you.

    “What the fuck?” You scream and throw the first thing you can grab at them.

    They catch the stuffed animal and look at it before setting it down gently on a chair. “No need to be afraid,” it growls.

    The creature under the bed rises from below. Their body is long like a caterpillar, and there are glowing eyes all over their body. “You’ve done it now.”

    “Fuck me, fuck you,” Barbol snarls.

    “I am very confused!” You yell out, clinging to one of your pillows like a shield.

    They both turn and look at you. “You’re confused?” They both ask with varying inflection.

    You panicked, and that’s what had come out. “What’s going on?” You start to sob.

    “Oh, sweetie,” Farrow comes to you, putting his arms around you. “We didn’t mean to scare you! I know how we look, but we’re very gentle.”

    “You asked for us,” Barbol snarls.

    “I didn’t ask for monsters!” You blurt at him.

    He tilts his head. “You did. Just now.”

    You blink the tears from your eyes. “What?” You whisper. “You mean...for my baby?” You cover your belly. 

    “We heard your cry for help,” Farrow’s spindly fingers brush your hair from your face. “We came to do what you asked.”

    “But...I wasn’t…” you glance between them. “How is this real?”

    Barbol sits on the foot of the bed. “It’s a long story, lady.” 

    You sniffle and rub your eyes. “I wanted my daughter to have a father. I wasn’t asking for boogiemen in her closet.”

    “Sometimes the boogeyman is better,” Barbol growls, his voice is gentle though. 

    Farrow wipes at your cheeks with a tissue. “I mean...that’s true,” you nod. You look up at Barbol. “So, what are you?”

    “Some worlds run alongside this one. Close enough to touch but never actually exist together.”

    “It’s Down,” Farrow replies. “From here our world is Down. And there aren’t always nice things that come through. Sometimes there are dark things that come into your world and are intent on doing great harm.”

    “And you two?” You point to them both. “What do you want?”

    “To keep those things at bay,” Barbol answers. “We go bump in the night, so nothing happens.”

    “And...and you’re going to do that for my daughter?” You ask.

    “Of course,” Farrow murmurs, two hands knead your shoulders. “And we’ll protect you as well.”

    “You look like a baby yourself,” Barbol huffs. 

    You chuckle. “Kind of.”

    “And you’re alone like this?” He growls. “Bullshit.”

    You smile at him. “Not for long. This one will be out and about shortly.”

    Your phone chimes and Barbol looks at it with a grimace. You answer it, seeing Henry has replied with some ideas for the date tomorrow. You smile softly, and Farrow taps your cheek.

    “What’s this?”

    You shake your head. “Guy from work.”

    “Do you want me to kill him?” Barbola asks.

    You snort and shake your head. “No, of course not!” You send him a message in returning, selecting one of his options. “He’s been very nice. In fact...he’s what gave me hope my daughter would be loved and safe.”

    “Ah, romance,” Farrow chuckles. “But, if he does hurt you-”

    “I’ll kill him.” Barbol grunts.

    You smile and nod. “Ok. Deal.”

    As strange as it is, you already feel close to the two strange creatures in your room. Farrow stays under the bed while Barbol inhabits the wardrobe. You used to be afraid of such things as a little girl. The monster under your bed that turned out to be an old shirt or toy, or, the beast is the closet that was just a jacket fallen off the hook. Now, there was actually something there. They were real, and they were friendly. 

    During your date with Henry, which is thankfully his real name, you end up having a good time. He starts the date off with ice cream, stating that if things go wrong you at least had ice cream and nothing more needs to be said. After that though, he takes you to a movie. You hold his hand during it, falling asleep because it’s boring as hell. After your nap, he takes you out to eat. He’s very nice, and he’s charming in a dopey sort of way.

    After the date is over, he takes you home. He kisses your forehead and smiles at you. “Please,” he says. “If you need me for anything, call me.”

    You nod. “I will, thanks, Henry.” You kiss him and when you pull back his face is blood red. You giggle and kiss his cheek. “I had a great time tonight. Maybe we can do it again after the baby.”

    He frowns. “I can help you,” he says. “After the baby, during the baby. I want to help you. You’re such a hard worker, and you’re so stubborn,” he laughs. “I admire how brave you are.”

    You shake your head. “You don’t need this Henry. You can have anybody. You don’t want me.”

    “But I do,” he clasps your hands tight in his. “I’ve liked you since that day you stormed in an demanded a job.” He grins. “You scared the absolute shit out of me, and I’ve admired you ever since.” He kisses your knuckles. “I’ll love the baby too like she was my own.”

    “I-” you hesitate and duck your head. 

    “Give me a chance, and I’ll prove myself to you,” he whispers.

    You blink away the tears and nod at him. “Ok,” you murmur.

    A few weeks after that, you’re giving birth. Henry is there with you, clutching your hand tight as you push and push and push. You scream and cry and cling to his hand for dear life.

    “I love you, you can do this. I know you can do this,” he tells you.

    Soon, you’re holding your baby in your arms. She screams her head off and looks like a mushy lizard, but to you she’s beautiful. You then offer her to Henry, letting him hold her. He cries when you do, but he looks happy.

    He moves you into his home while you’re resting in the hospital. You wonder if Farrow and Barbol are ok and hope they make the trip well. You feel safe knowing they’ll be there when you take the baby home.

    After getting settled with Henry at his home, you go into the room he’s made for the baby. The furniture is in place, and there are things all over he’s bought for her. You smile, realizing this man is too good to be true.

    “Are you guys here?” You ask.

    The wardrobe opens, and Barbol slips out. “You didn’t tell us we were moving,” he huffs.

    “Sorry, things happened so fast.” You bounce the baby in your arms. “I wanted you to meet her.”

    Farrow shoots out from under the bed in a bolt and hovers over you. He looks down as you move the blanket away from her face. 

    “This is Harper,” you tell them. You hold her up, letting Farrow hold her first.

    He gazes at her in awe and shock. He touches her cheeks, and she burbles softly, grabbing onto one of his long fingers and squeezing. Farrow sniffles and Barbol takes her from him.

    “Don’t cry on her! With all your eyes you’ll drown her.” He clutches Harper close. “Hi pretty girl,” he growls. “You have a perfect mommy, she asked for us to stay with you.”

    Harper sneezes right in his face.

    You and Farrow both try to keep from laughing. He glares at you, not spattered all over his face. He wipes it off and continues to hold Harper in his arms. “You’re going to give me trouble, aren’t you?” He growls at Harper. “Don’t worry, I can take it.”

    As Harper grows, Farrow and Barbol stay by her side. Sometimes at night, you stand by her door and listen to her talking and playing with them.

    “I don’t want to go to bed,” she says.

    “And why is that?” Farrow asks.

    “I love you guys, I want to stay up with you,” Harper pouts. “Can’t we just keep reading, Farrow?”

    “Even my eyes get tired, darling,” Farrow says.

    “Then my and Barbol can keep playing!” Harper insists. 

    Barbol snarls as she grabs her up and throws her into bed, all the while she giggles and tries to stay quiet. “You have to go to bed. We aren’t going anywhere,” Barbol assures her as he tucks her in.

    “You promise?” Harper murmurs.

    Barbol kisses her cheek. “Where else would we go?” he grunts. “What other little girl would have us?”

    Harper giggles more. “Only me!”

    “That’s right,” Farrow says. “Only you.”

    Henry comes up behind you, and you gasp. “She’s sleeping just fine,” he says. “She’s always a good girl about going to bed.” He kisses the top of your head.

    “I just like...watching her,” you lead him away from the door, so he doesn’t hear Farrow and Barbol talking.

    Harper draws pictures of them, and Henry loves all her stories about her imaginary friends. “Farrow likes your books, Daddy,” Harper tells Henry one day when he asks her why he found his books under her bed.

    “Oh? Does he?” Henry laughs.

    “He says he thinks Lord Demir is bluffing when he says he’s going to kill Emperor Amit,” Harper says as she colors.

    Henry looks stunned. “Oh,” he blinks a few times. “Is...is that right?”

    “He says Emperor Amit will probably kill him before too long. He doesn’t suspect Demir is going to be a problem.” She then shrugs. “It all sounds kind of silly to me!”

    Henry stares at you, only someone who actually read the books could speak that much knowledge on them. I know Farrow is an avid reader, so I’m not surprised he’s told Harper the basics of the books he’s reading.

    “Mythri is really cool though,” Harper says. “That’s Farrow’s favorite character.”

    “And who does Barbol like?”

    Harper grimaces. “He hates those books! He doesn’t like anybody, Daddy!” She laughs like he should know better. 

    “Well, as long as he likes you I’m ok with that,” Henry says as he colors with Harper. 

    Harper grins up at him. “Oh, they both love me. It’s ok, you don’t have to worry.”