It’s all fun and games…Until Root gets sucked into another murder documentary.
The bull frogs croaked, crickets chirped and the residents of Inked and Feral Farm were settling down for the night. Except it didn’t quite sound like Root and Marrow were enjoying an evening full of peace and restoration. Not, when Root loved her murder documentaries to wind down.
“Fridder-Frat was last seen at 4 a.m. leaving a friend’s party. According to witness statements, the fairy was flying in an erratic pattern as if sauced on pixie dust…” The deep voiced narrator announced as Marrow walked into the small cabin.
Glancing over at Root with a raised eyebrow, he leaned against the doorframe between the living room and their greenhouse kitchen. His left ear perked toward the small vintage tv.
“Forty-eight hours after his last known sighting, Fidder-Frat’s body was found discarded in a ravine ten miles away from his childhood home,” the announcer continued.
Root leaned in toward the screen, as if she waited to see a photo of the poor fae. A blurred image flashed on the screen. Censored for the viewers, like Root, to guard the mental health of those who watched. Root sighed in slight misguided disappointment.
“And you say I’m taking the whole duck army thing too far. At least they hunt Ideas and not you and Twil,” Marrow chirped.
His tone had been so abrupt, Root about jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t expected her husband to be inside so soon after sundown. After all, it was about time for the ideas to start flying, and he and Twil had a long standing competition between them…Although Twil considered it more like war and she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Thats different. This documentary is research! You are taking out innocent creatures with your duck army,” Root argued as she stood from the couch.
Marrow narrowed his eyes. His malicious and mischievous smirk showed brightly through the soft fire lit space. His penchant for chaos softened slightly in the warm light, as if maybe he might have conceded….if the documentary hadn’t upped the ante.
“ It wasn’t until the faetopsy that it was revealed, Fridder-Frat’s wings had been removed postmortem,” The narrator added, unhelpfully.
Root winced. Her argument wasn’t quite strong enough when compared to the actual murder documentary she had been watching. Marrow locked on to Root’s discomfort.
“Research for what exactly?” Marrow asked. The suspicion, thick in his voice.
Looking around their cozy space for a comfortable place to rest her eyes, Root hid her telling grin and shrugged. Of course, she had an answer, but she felt like making Marrow suffer a little for his quick and misguided assumption. Her eyes fell on the small bookshelf next to the living room door and her husband.
“Investigators quickly began to build a case against Fridder-Frat’s ex, Twinkles. Who witnesses have claimed on several occasions to threaten Fridder-Frat with much more extreme threats, such as this one from an anonymous source you are about to hear,” The narrator began.
As the narrator paused for cinematic effect, the tv screen changed. The narrator was no longer sitting behind a grainy desk but now a blurred and censored scene depicted an anonymous guest waiting for their cue to speak.
“Um-I knew Twinkles through our sorority. She rushed last year and at first I didn’t understand why everyone was against her,” A sniffling, distorted voice floated through the air from the TV, “But one night we were all playing truth or dare, and she had a little too much pixie dust punch, and I’ll never forget what came out of her mouth.”
Root’s eyes grew wide as she realized the show was only going to provoke her husband further. Her eyes shot to the remote she had abandoned on the couch half way between her and Marrow. In horror Marrow seemed to read her mind.
“She said she loved Fridder so much, she couldn’t wait to have to clip his wings. Their souls were bound together and she’d only be free when he stopped fighting her,” The anonymous witness provided and Root and Marrow made a mad dash for the remote.
Root grabbed the remote first only to be tackled to the couch by Marrow. His large hands enveloped hers as Root held on to that plastic device for dear life. Her desperate gasps for air and his irritated huffs fell in tune to the outside country sounds.
“And what made you so sure she was capable of following through with the murder?” The narrator asked in the recorded interview. His voice and tone, not distorted like the witness.
Root bucked her hips and sent Marrow barreling toward the arm of the couch. The only thing that kept him from going over the edge has been his iron clad grip on that remote. Root bared her teeth as she used the small advantage of Marrow’s surprise to reach one single finger toward the power button.
“Well it started with her obsession over murder mysteries–” The anonymous started.
A bright, thin white line collapsed the images on the vintage tv just before it clicked off. Marrow’s arrogant smile seemed more distracting to Root, over her immediate disappointment that her research had been so short lived. Both creatures gently released the remote and stood face to face.
“So I can’t hassle Twil and the Idea Sprites, but you can stay in and plan my murder,”Marrow asked with a slight smile. If he believed the words he spouted, his face didn’t reflect it.
Root crossed her bony arms across her chest. Her pale skin highlighted in a bright and brilliantly pink blush. She rolled her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, and audacity.
“For the record, I have managed to plan your death a total of four times without getting caught— and you do not have wings!” Root defended herself.
Marrow’s eyes narrowed, his smile falling slightly as he realized just how close he came to disappearing over the years. Judging by the way he immediately bit his tongue in hesitation it was clear to Root, Marrow was now taking her seriously.
“My book research and my vengeance are two separate things, but if you don’t leave my bestie alone, I can change my mind,” Root added, with a mischievous grin of her own.
“Fine, you have made your point. I will retire my duck army,” Marrow conceded as he held his palms up in surrender before falling back onto the couch.
Root let out a relieved sigh and joined him. Automatically, Marrow leaned over, offering up his shoulder for the smaller fairy. Her head rested on his shoulder, as Root took back the remote she had just angrily discarded.
A small crackle sounded through the air, as the tv flashed back on with the same line of blinding light.
“...Serial killer known by many as The Brother Plucker, had left a victim alive,” The narrator sounded off once more as Root snuggled in close to Marrow.
“I love, watching violence together!” Root said soft and content as the show played on.
The sounds of the farm were back to their normal ebb and flow. Crickets sounded, frogs chirped, and Root and Marrow finally settled down for the night. Even though the whole time, Marrow couldn’t help but wonder if Root was silently planning his murder for the fifth time.
