We Summoned Bondage (mf+/fF+)

[BlissfulMisery]

Well maybe me and the other 'Gods' can have some sort of rope bases fight for supremacy.

I wouldn't even mind losing

Or perhaps even intentionally losing

Added the Samantha chapter (most recently posted) purely due to this being a TUGs site. Basically.

I felt, given free reign, if I didn't feel obligated to include TUGs at every available opportunity I'd probably of had Sammy and Tash engage in a discussion of NOT liking the experience forced on them by Echo.

Which after all seems more likely.

But. I'm not unhappy, and it was fun to write things this way.

Just. Fair warning. Not sure we'll revisit Sammy and Tash's particular story arc.

Expected as much, hence my comment. But appreciate the clarification.

-

Surprising that Charlotte is expecting the worst at the start. It does make for some nice framing early on (which I suspect is the reason you chose to go this route), but she already has the example of Lauren being over the top nice/accommodating, and certainly she would realize that the *headmistress* being super nice to her would be helpful in such a proceeding. Obviously not a guarantee since she is not the only one making the decision, but there are many things she could do (such as outright lie/make things up to ease the situation/talk to people beforehand) that would at least give Charlotte a real chance.

*Wrote the above before actually reading the whole thing, and indeed it seems like something of the sort happened.

It's Pochita, the devil, demon in dog form. A major part of the anime Chainsaw Man, which I'm not allowed to watch, which of course means I've done literally hundreds of online searches for details.

Wanting it even more due to its banned- in my house -status.

This part on the other hand, is completely unsurprising

The dog is small, brownish red with a chainsaw pull cord for a tail, a black handle running from left up and over to the right side, and a fearsome looking saw blade sticking out the front.

Quite the image, although certainly matches up with expectations given the context.

And I briefly wonder, the thought not helpful but there, skipping across my consciousness: Lauren thinks I'm binding her later, but. I know she's looking forward to it, but does it infect her thoughts whilst we're apart? Does Echo's influence, that mark, does it cause my sister to pine for me, to miss and still desire to please me, even whilst we're miles apart?

An interesting thought. Though given how the meeting went, it seems likely that this hold over them does indeed persist when Charlotte/Echo are not present.

Syko Sith wrote: ↑Sat Jul 20, 2024 7:24 am
Did she actually talk Echo down?

That, Charlotte asking Echo to stand down, apparently being heard and obeyed, will be directly addressed and followed up next chapter.

Just me theorizing, but I suspect it had more to do with Charlotte pleading with her - Echo does not seem the type to 'obey'. And it is also the first somewhat direct communication the two have had to this point - as if the barrier between them is fraying somehow. Much like the bracelet has been looking worse for wear lately in fact... This development might not end up being the best news for Charlotte in the long run.

Of course I could be way off the mark (and there are many directions you could take this), but it certainly lines up.

[RopeBunny]

Well maybe me and the other 'Gods' can have some sort of rope bases fight for supremacy.

I wouldn't even mind losing

Or perhaps even intentionally losing

Probably

Surprising that Charlotte is expecting the worst at the start. It does make for some nice framing early on (which I suspect is the reason you chose to go this route),

For me this, writing things this way and prehaps making Charlotte intentionally 'dumb' as to the evidence around her.

As you pointed out, Lauren and so forth.

This was purely done for storytelling. If she goes into the meeting still expecting doom, only to witness a- for her -dramatic saving at the hands of the recently co-opted Headmistress, it allows me to highlight the lengths and depths of Echo's control.

Allows me to show it does indeed extend forever regardless of proximity, and shows how far- sacking Mr Castleford -those under Echo's heel are prepared to go.

And I briefly wonder, the thought not helpful but there, skipping across my consciousness: Lauren thinks I'm binding her later, but. I know she's looking forward to it, but does it infect her thoughts whilst we're apart? Does Echo's influence, that mark, does it cause my sister to pine for me, to miss and still desire to please me, even whilst we're miles apart?

An interesting thought. Though given how the meeting went, it seems likely that this hold over them does indeed persist when Charlotte/Echo are not present.

And here, well, see above
More storytelling, proving my workings, showing the reader proof of fact that Echo's influence is forever regardless of distance and so forth.

Just me theorizing, but I suspect it had more to do with Charlotte pleading with her - Echo does not seem the type to 'obey'.

Answers below

[RopeBunny]

015.
Michelle.

Not every lunchtime, without wanting to sound mean: I do have other friends. But these past two weeks, since Echo.

Still weird, the name, what she can slash does slash did do.

Makes me wonder- though not too deeply because I actually do enjoy sleeping at night -what else Echo can do?

It's all just a tiny bit fucked up.

Since Echo wrecked havoc in school I've been spending the occasional lunch with Char's crowd, of two.

Samantha and Natasha.

Not every lunchtime, but today is. The. Day, judgement day for Char and though we three- in spirit -wish her well.

We know.

As Char, putting it best said to me down the phone, the one time any of us have managed communication with her.

She tied up a teacher, on school grounds. You don't get to walk away from that.

Out on the school field we gather, under the shade of a tree, of which there are several scattered about. Eating in small nervous bites, not talking.

Our combined attention fixed on the staff car park, on Char's parents car.

Hoping at least for a glimpse, a wave. Something before she's taken away.

Never, stupid but can't help the feeling, to be seen again.

And then someone clears their throat, right behind us. Noisily. Giggling, a high and carefree girlish sound, afterwards as Samantha- must start saying Sammy, they've asked several times -screams and Tash jumps.

But I'm grinning, some sixth sense feeling the impossible presence moments before she announced herself. Impossible because it simply can't be, but I'd know that particular aroma anywhere.

I've been close to it, kissing distance close.

But even so.

"No...?" Turning, seeing her. Char, grinning too wide- though not Echo wide thank fuck -arms crossed beneath her bust. Standing just inside the ring of canopy cast shade.

Sammy blinks, Tash stares open mouthed and I just stare.

"How...?"
"But...?"
"Just." Sniffling, and from cocky swagger to suddenly on the verge of tears. "Hug me already." Not moving beyond opening her arms wide. "Please."

The combined force of Tash and Sammy knocking all three of them down, becoming a tangled heap of limbs and sobbing and me, standing alone.

Left ou-

Char, all three managing to climb up off the floor without letting each other go. Kneeling now, her eyes finding mine and she reaches out, beckoning and.

Deep breath, somehow almost crying myself now as I step forward, kneeling, lowering myself down arms out.

The other two stiffening which makes me pause.

Wrong, silly girl this isn't your group why would they want yo-

Sammy letting go of Tash, moving her arm slipping it around me as Char comes in from the other side.

Hugging. Sobbing.

An absolute mess, but a warmth. Growing, I can feel the friendship the three share, the close company they enjoy and for all that I have- numerous -friends.

I'm not this close to any of them.

Eventually we release, standing and moving apart.

The warning- first -bell rings.

"Are you...." Tash, voice trailing off as she looks at Char. The ghost we didn't expect to see again. "Um. Class?"
"Yes." Nodding and smiling, eyes wet with freshly forming tears. "I'm coming. I'm." Taking a deep breath.

Of freedom?

"Back. Somehow."
"How though?"
"It's." Laughing, nervous and flashing a quick smile at Sammy, who'd asked. "We need to talk."

To which we all nod.

And then Char.

Spasms, her eyes going wide and head starting to shake. Managing only the briefest of denials though.

And suddenly, like flicking a switch, the differences subtle yet screaming loud: the eyes, the change in stance. Nothing but confidence. The air, crackling as though a storm were directly overhead.

Echo standing in Char's place, facing us all wearing Char's skin.

"Echo?"
"So." Char's voice. Calm. Smooth, accompanied by a too friendly sharks smile that sends a shiver through me. Sammy had spoken, and the Nightmares attention is fixed on her.

"You know a name."

Two tentacles of purest black explode out of Char/Echo's back, the faintest sound of tearing fabric as both stretch and grow, arching and diving around her left side.

And I flinch, and Tash screams both of us eons too late.

Except neither of us are the intended target.

Sammy, her own scream cut off. Muffled. Is struck at the chest and thigh, the tentacles lifting and wrapping her with surprising speed. Limbs pinned and mouth covered, flashes of blue shirt and the squeezed humps of her breasts, bare legs, patches of her visible.

"But that does not make us friends." Echo, nothing of Char beyond outward appearances, as the words confirm. "I am not your friend." Staring at Tash and me. "And I am not hers my keeper."

And whilst she'd been speaking Echo had been working. On Sammy. Lowering and pushing her back against the trunk of the tree we'd, until moments ago, been enjoying the shade of. Her tentacles moving through the tree as though not real, not subject to normal laws, and yet their grip on Sammy never falters.

They, the tentacles change and shift, growing out to encompass the trunk and her body, wrapping both. Before retracting, shrinking and slipping back through the air towards Echo, leaving behind coarse off white ropes, wrapping and covering Sammy, trussing her, pinning her body to the tree with wrists pulled back behind the truck and head held in place by rope, which gags her too.

Her, Sammy's eyes wide in shock and fear. Moaning in discomfort and distress.

"I have a message."
"A." Tearing my attention away from Sammy, beside me Tash routed to the spot, head shaking as though to deny everything she can see as plain fact. "What?"
"You."

And, distracted, suddenly I'm being lifted and Tash too, the corner of my vision I see her, both of us suddenly and silently wrapped from shoulders to waist. Feeling my E cups squeezed and.

Caressed?

Obviously not, but, I'm bound. Wrapped, and my inner thoughts seem to enjoy the interpretation, because it is, sort of, Char doing this.

Watching, stunned into silence and already too well wrapped, captured to escape or fight back.

And how the fuck do you fight an actual monster?

Mesmerised by the sight of two more tentacles, sprouting and growing, slipping through the air to wrap mine and Tash's face. Gagging us and Echo standing, arms crossed facing the three of us now. Tash and me suspended in the air, held. And Sammy bound to the tree.

"No more talking." Shaking her head. "Now you, her friends, you will listen."
"Fffgggmmdddnnnmm." I nod, straining. Unable to stop but forced to by the tentacles, which tighten, squeezing my chest harder even whilst my legs are forcibly split apart, wrapped and pinned by two new- six of her eight now -appendages.

My legs bent at the knee, wrapped upper thigh to ankle, held open so I'm almost doing the splits.

Echo nods, at me as though satisfied. Continues.

"You think you know me? This vessel, my keeper. She has seen your books."

A tut, and Tash. Moving.

Bought down and pushed up against Sammy, her dark bindings shifting and writhing. Retreating as both Sammy and Tash moan, struggling. The two of them bound together, again. Face to face, bodies pressed and wrapped by rope that wraps the tree too, Tash's wrists behind her, Char's friends once more sharing a gag that forces their lips to touch.

Echo humiliating and embarrassing them, for her own amusement.

"You do not know me."

I squeal, fighting but helpless as Echo by sheer will, effortlessly, spins me slowly upside down, bringing my face level with hers. Eyes to dead and black eyes.

Leaning forward she. Licks, the side of my face. Tasting me?

Nodding and showing me a terrifyingly sharp tooth filled smile.

"I am the Echo you heard. The footsteps behind you, forever behind you. Closer.

I am the Echo you saw. Teeth. Eyes. A hundred monsters from a hundred tales. In the darkness and the shadows. Waiting.

I am you. Caught and bound and gagged. Kept and forgotten. Abandoned. Helpless and though you may struggle and beg, there is no escape.

I am a Nightmare, and I will not. Be. Trapped."

And, moving me with that same ease whilst she'd been speaking. Lifting and shunting me towards the tree. Appendages, tentacles shifting and sliding all over me. Smooth and cold feeling.

And as they withdraw, sliding back into her, vanishing. I'm left hanging upside down, in the tree. The same coarse rope that binds Sammy and Tash gripping and pinching me now too.

Rope, extra, at the knees- wrapped and looped, each knee bent double my legs made frog like -and wrists, which are behind me and pinned to my waist. The knee and wrist ropes are suspending me off the ground, attached to thick branches above and I'm hanging, rocking and twisting as though in a gentle breeze, head about a foot off the floor hair brushing the grass.

Large ball filling my mouth, taste of rubber and discomfort at the sides of my stretched jaws.

Helpless, and scared. And yet at the same time a part of me thrilling at the predicament.

Loving how tightly trussed I am.

"Tell her." Craning, and I can see Echo, standing beside the other two and holding her left wrist up for them to see, shaking it which causes a far too loose seeming dirty red woven bracelet to jump and bounce.

"Remember this." Turning her attention to me, waving her wrist. The bracelet? At me too.

"Tell my keeper. Your. Friend. That I will not remain trapped. You." Spitting on the ground.

Which begins to sizzle as though burning.

"Amateurs. And to think I came willingly, only to be caught. Trapped. Tell her if she does not free me, I will find my own exit."

"Tell her to be careful. Even begging, I am not her tool to call or dismiss as she wills it. We." Casting a glare at us all. "Are not friends."

And.

As the second- if you aren't in class, you're now officially in trouble -bell rings.

Gone.

Stolen, taken away in an eyeblink by a roiling bubbling, angry looking cloud of shadowed darkness. Abandoning the three of us, bound and helpless.

[Syko Sith]

Okay then. Echo is fully aware of the bracelet but can't remove it herself. Part of me wants Char to remove it so she can be made an example. (What? I can be dominant sometimes )
The reunion started so well too. At least they know or at least think they know, how to get rid of the spirit. Remove the bracelet. Thing is, will Echo leave peacefully? (I kinda doubt it)
Keep em coming mistress! (Couldn't resist )

[RopeBunny]

Okay then. Echo is fully aware of the bracelet but can't remove it herself. Part of me wants Char to remove it

Except, so far at least, everyone besides Echo seems to consistently forget the bracelet even exists the moment they aren't looking directly at it.

Even Char.

Thing is, will Echo leave peacefully? (I kinda doubt it)

Wouldn't be a fun TUGs story if she left peacefully, or easily

Keep em coming mistress! (Couldn't resist )

So what, if I might playfully ask does that make you?

[Syko Sith]

I'm just a guy with a pile of rope beside him
Figured that might get your "creative juices" flowing
(I know, I know. I'm AWFUL)

[BlissfulMisery]

This was purely done for storytelling. If she goes into the meeting still expecting doom, only to witness a- for her -dramatic saving at the hands of the recently co-opted Headmistress, it allows me to highlight the lengths and depths of Echo's control.

Allows me to show it does indeed extend forever regardless of proximity, and shows how far- sacking Mr Castleford -those under Echo's heel are prepared to go.

Figured as much, but again, appreciate the clarification.

-

Echo's behavior is interesting. If she were human, I would almost consider the whole thing a show - a reaction to feeling trapped and lashing out (literally I suppose) to bluster and threaten those whose help she needs, but is too proud to ask, and so this is the only way she can bring herself to do it.

Fits her overly domineering personality I suppose. Or maybe I am just reading too much humanity into an otherworldly being

Regardless, all three of them are in quite a bind... (horrible pun, but perfect opportunity for it ) Wonder if they will get into trouble, or in general where this will go from here. As has already been mentioned, Echo does not seem the type to leave without a fuss if the bracelet were to be removed. Plus the obvious logistical issues that come with its memory altering properties.

Except, so far at least, everyone besides Echo seems to consistently forget the bracelet even exists the moment they aren't looking directly at it.

Indeed. Wonder if Echo is aware of this fact, or simply thinks they are all fools. Or I suppose there is always option three: 'does not care'.

[RopeBunny]

I'm just a guy with a pile of rope beside him

Is that right

[RopeBunny]

Regardless, all three of them are in quite a bind... (horrible pun, but perfect opportunity for it )

It's a perfect pun for the situation.

And, we've been here before. Speculating, so you're aware I won't give anything away, and I'm aware you don't want me too anyway.

So.

I like your theories and arguments, your points.

I feel as though we're on the same tack. Which from my view is a good thing.

[RopeBunny]

016.
Charlotte.

"....w's your burger Princess?"
"Wha...?" Blinking, and.

I am not built to process these shifts.

In that first instant I'm not even paying attention, all there is, is rage. At Echo about whom I know nothing beyond a name.

That close to human yet freakishly different appearance, and power. Pure unmeasurable power.

Rage but forcibly stillborn and impotent, guttering out and dying because what's even the point? I'm nothing but her shell, a vehicle largely left on autopilot by a monster largely, apparently uncaring for the dullness of my routine.

The controls though, my, controls. Hers to take hold of.

Anytime.

She.

Wishes.

And how long has it been? Blurring and numbness, swallowed by rising darkness only to be spat out instants later.

Only- looking around, bombarded by the multitude of suddenly new sights and smells -in the world outside my dark prison hours have passed, a seamless transition from the school field.

My friends? Brief stab or worry because last time....

Fighting down the shiver, hoping not today. And yet- Echo's apparent favoured method of interaction being ropes.

I need my.

Phone? Looking alien, unfamiliar after two weeks without yet there it sits on the booths table, next to a plate half full of cheeseburger. The taste of which, delicious meaty texture and a strong mix of onion and ketchup, herbs and salty thick cut chips, feels wrong sitting in my throat for all I've no memory of eating any.

We're in a Steakhouse, a Waters favourite I recognise by the decor. I'm out of uniform and. Braless?

Just, why?

What the fuck has she- losing the fight against a second shiver, fear like a cold tingle walking up my spine -been doing with me all that time?

Sensing my parents disapproval at the fact, feeling how the fitted black 'Roxy Girl' cropped tee hugs my bust. Every curve obvious. Skinny fit blue jeans hugging my legs, the whole outfit tight like a second skin.

Like- a strange mental leap which only might be true -something unused to or outright hating the feel of clothes, moving and shifting. The obvious compromise being only those items that fit too closely to move.

Although, doesn't a bra do that? Hug, closely.

Sunglasses- clever monster -on my face, which I remove and, lacking any other easy target, scowl at.

Swapping them out for my phone, swiping it open and clicking on WhatsApp, finding surprisingly few messages on our group chat, finding.

Oh?

Michelle, added to our group chat as of around an hour ago?

"Must you, Charlotte?" Dad, and I look up to find half a smile. Not mad only the usual despair they both exhibit towards Lauren's and my inability to leave our phones alone.

"I just." Tapping whilst speaking, a short message. "Want to see if my friends are." Okay. "Free this weekend."
"I'm free this weekend."

Quiet, Lauren's voice from directly beside me in the booth and when I glance over she smiles. Hope.

"It really is so good," mum, her hand finding dad's and both of them smiling across the table at us, "to see you both becoming closer these past weeks."

If only they knew, I ponder with only the smallest- finding control from somewhere -smile, seeing Lauren scowl. At them.

Because with Echo's tainting of her, changing Lauren in ways I'm still not entirely sure of, all my older sister wants to do, with me, is submit.

My parents have only glimpsed the barest tip of what is a really fucking deep and warped iceberg.

We eat, and go home.

The knock at my bedroom door coming some fifteen minutes later.

"Yes?"
"It's me, Char."
"Hey Laur." Raised voices through the wood. "Come in."

She does, and.

"Oh...."
"I'm." Fidgeting, standing beside my bed, bundle of rope and what I think is a ballgag in hand. None of which conceals the fact she's only wearing a bikini underneath an unzipped hoodie. "Here to help you celebrate."
"Oh...."

The hoodie is dark green, khaki coloured but not camouflage patterned. The bikini top is black and halter style, triangle cups with fabric running up to tie behind the neck, cord around the bottom. White skeletal hands cupping her C cups. The bottoms are purple, like her hair, tie side with fabric and a pinched effect at the butt, upon which 'B#@¿H' is slashed in black.

"Why," stalling, I'd forgotten about the half promise made a thousand years ago this morning, "are you wearing a bikini?"
"Oh." Looking down at herself, fingering the hoodie pulling it wider to better show me her almost nakedness. "Well. You always bind me at night, so." A shrug, a grin. "I wanted to dress up for you."

Right.

I. Always bind her at night. Me, because Lauren doesn't know.

"Well...." Looking from her face to the rope. Still stalling because do I even want to? "Um...."
"Would you rather I was naked?"

Already dropping the rope as she speaks, reaching up to shrug off the hoodie and.

"No." Shouting, and please don't let our parents hear. Come. "It's." Breathing out. "Fine. Laur. You look great."

Fucking Echo. Huffing whilst managing to stay outwardly calm, backing me into this corner. Binding my own sister. Feeling the rage I've no outlet for beginning to build, again.

Staring at my sister.

The rage I've no- desperate to please, begging to be bound and gagged -outlet for?

Right.

Fine.

She wants it, she can have it.

All- and I've never tied anyone up, but how hard can it be -of it.

"Wrists." Snatching up a coil of rope, a shorter looking one as I stalk behind her. Lauren complying, offering her wrists up, crossed.

Which must surely be easier?

I've seen Dylan's gang at work, first hand experience though from the other side. So I'm not completely clueless.

Doubling the rope I wrap it once around Lauren's wrists, passing the held together ends through the small loop at the far end of the length. Pulling tight by way of reversing direction.

Lauren, a small fidget, a sigh as the rope digs into her skin, which makes me fidget. A brief stab of what the fuck am I doing before I remember.

The impotent rage, and my sister more then willing to play slave.

To, be? My slave?

Wrapping, working the doubled rope around and between her wrists, covering angles and continuing to yank everything tight. Finishing off with a triple knot, yanking that too.

"Right."
"Is that." Wriggling her arms, looking at me as I step around front. "Are you finished?"
"Questioning me?" Coming from somewhere, falling into the role. "Should I gag you now?"

Lauren, staring at the floor. Blushing. Smiling though.

Finding the longest rope, shaking it out, spending likely twice as much time as someone who actually knows how doubling it. Stepping in close and passing the rope around Lauren's chest, high up near her shoulders. Pulling it tight by way of feeding through the loop and changing direction again.

Cursing as the rope slips off her chest up around the neck.

Still close, our bodies almost touching. Wriggling the rope down over Lauren's shoulders, down to the tops of her half exposed C cups. Reaching around to make sure I've pulled the wrapping tight.

Feeling the small kiss, Lauren's lips gentle on my cheek as she leans in.

Showing respect? Thanking me? Proving devotion to her boss?

The second pass I make below her breasts, stepping back to lean in, checking. Snuggling the rope right up underneath her bikini clad C cups. Changing direction again at the back and I've still got masses left.

Feet and feet of rope.

Even after a second pass underneath her chest, three goes around and there's still far too much, so I solve it by guesswork.

Improvising.

Bringing the rope, from the back up and over one shoulder, down. Passing it under the bottom rope and then rising. Over the other shoulder and I go around back. Binding and wrapping and knotting and yanking. Losing whatever rope is left and it looks messy as hell but it's tight.

Discovering the unintended consequence: that my centre rope has pulled on the wrappings below Lauren's chest, lifting her C cups, pushing and causing them to be squeezed between all my bindings.

Sudden mentally constructed image of Chelle's breasts, similarly rope squeezed and I squirm. A tingle dropping down through my belly.

Kneeling to bind her legs. Ankles, but together and I manage. Messing up the first, realising as I run out of rope that I should wrap the final part vertically, between the legs not around.

So pleased infact I repeat the process above and below her knees, plus high up on Lauren's thigh, dangerously close to her not particularly well covered crotch.

Standing, finished. Wondering though, looking at my sister, seeing her fidget and wriggle but not complain.

What more can I do, to her?

And.

Footsteps on the stairs.

"Charlotte?" Dad. "Lauren?"

Jamming the ballgag in Lauren's mouth, not thinking. Panicked, pushing and forcing the large black ball and.

"Dddsssgggg pppffffrrrssss." Moan like, flinching as I grab hold the buckle and yank the leather strap through behind her, securing it tightly enough to dig in at the sides. "Gggmmnnnssss."
"Hush." Harsh whisper, adrenaline flooding my system as.

"Charlotte?" Getting closer. "Girls?"

Forgetting. The forever truth that dad won't. Ever, simply open my door without being told he can. So sure I'm about to be caught, grabbing Lauren by the hair and half dragging her towards my bed.

My sister forced to hop, quickly. Bikini clad and rope squeezed breasts bouncing.

Flipping open the box and mostly pushing her inside, Lauren mostly falling, collapsing to fill the space.

My old wooden toybox, roughly the height and width of a coffin but only half as long.

Having landed on her side, all bent out of shape bound legs twisted beneath her and chest pressed up against one side. Staring up at me, moaning softly.

But not in distress. Not angry at her treatment.

"Stay." I whisper, pointing at her.

"Mmmfffgg rrrsssnnnmmmn." Nodding, wriggling as I close the lid.

Make it to my bedroom door just as dad knocks.

"Dad."
"Charlotte." Taking a half step back, nodding. A grin surfacing. "Your mother's convinced me to break out the ice cream and Oreos. What do you think?"
"Please." Slipping through my open door and reaching back to pull it closed. "I'll come fetch a bowl for Laur too." Giving dad a smile. "Save her the trouble."
"Great." Giving me a thumbs up.

"We really are so pleased to see you both getting along." Dad comments, leading me down the stairs, which is lucky since he's unable to see the hand I clamp over my mouth. Holding in the laughter.

Getting along, by way of stuffing my bound and gagged sister into a wooden box.

Which I- naughty evil owner -slid the lock across after closing. She isn't getting out.

Not until I decide.

Which, unfortunately for Lauren is quite some time later. Once downstairs I get distracted by the flatscreen, a run of quiz show answers I unexpectedly know. Taking the offered bowl on autopilot, dunking Oreos, using them as scoops to plow up chunks of vanilla ice cream.

Remembering Lauren as the quiz show ends, credits rolling, and I.

Smirk.

Still riding that high, feeling oddly comfortable with the fact of my ownership. Amused by Lauren's predicament, that she's willingly allowed me to place her in.

Smile growing as I consider that, bizarrely, she's almost certainly happy being locked up uncomfortably in the box. Bound and gagged. Hot, sweating and achy.

Happy, because she's doing as I command.

Picturing myself now, taking a bowl upstairs, opening the box and helping Lauren out, removing the gag but not the ropes.

Feeding her.

Or possibly I'll simply place her food on the floor, let her struggle across the room to it, make her lick it up like a pet.

My. P-

"Princess?"
"Sorry." Already halfway across the room and heading for the kitchen, the freezer. "I'm. Um."

Spooning ice cream into a bowl, adding almost a dozen Oreos.

A peace offering as I race upstairs.

Because I'd suddenly realised how deeply I was sinking, how far my inner thoughts had wandered down the dark path of an ownership Lauren, the real untainted Lauren, wouldn't ever want.

Carried away, taking advantage. Calling myself several choice names as I shut the bedroom door, open the box and help Lauren stand.

Remove her gag.

"I'm sorry Laur."
"Why?"
"For." Running a hand down my face, the sheer crazy fact I could lock her straight back up. All night.

And she'd thank me for the attention.

"Just." Waving it all away, working on her ropes.

Freeing my sister, feeling like shit for taking my frustrations out on her.

Feeling, the next moment, like I want to bind her tighter. Keep her. That thrill I'd felt downstairs had been intoxicating, a rush. Power, owning someone, having them submit to my every will and whim.

I want to do it again.

I.

Feel like such a confused mess.

Lauren insists on sharing her mountain of ice cream, sitting beside me on the bed. Sitting, close beside me our shoulders brushing.

"Are you okay, Char?"
"I'm." Rolling my shoulders, shivering. "It's just been a long day."
"Want a massage?"
"No." Finding a smile for her.

"Want me to go back in the box?"
"No." Answering fast, blurting the negative before my thoughts have a chance to infect my words.

"Not tonight." Damn it, stupid. Not fast enough it seems and Lauren smiles, nods.

Yawns.

"Well. Char." Standing, only to kneel before me, hands loosely clasped behind her and head resting in my lap. "May I leave?"
"Yes?"

Becoming a question as I am a little bit freaked out.

But Lauren clearly doesn't pick up on my wavering tone. Standing she leans in, kissing my cheek. Leaving.

[Syko Sith]

Holy crap!!!
I'd completely forgotten about her promise to Lauren. Nice touch making us feel just as confused as Char at first. She truly has no idea what Echo did. And she's taking to the dominant role a bit too easily. Seems Echo is affecting her again.
Once again, noone notices the bracelet. (Not even her parents!) I'm waiting patiently for more.

Excellent story!!

[BlissfulMisery]

I liked how the chapter took a step back and showed a more 'normal' period of time. Or more specifically, how being Echo's vessel is starting to seep into Charlotte's life. And hints at the obvious problem of what is likely to happen as this continues.

"Want me to go back in the box?"
"No." Answering fast, blurting the negative before my thoughts have a chance to infect my words.

"Not tonight." Damn it, stupid. Not fast enough it seems and Lauren smiles, nods.

Multiple good moments like this, but I really liked this part, the very natural way she accidentally falls into saying this, Echo's influence seemingly continuing to nibble at the edges of her consciousness. Contrasts well with the start of the chapter too, where she laments her lack of agency, and now she is seizing it herself in the whole 'game' she plays with Lauren. Caught up in this strange, unnerving situation, with no seeming way out from her perspective. Quite literally losing control of her life, almost forced to just go along with/make the best of whatever is happening.

Wonder what happened to her friends - I had originally assumed Echo would give Charlotte back control and she would free them herself, but this obviously did not happen. Makes me curious as to what Echo did exactly, during this lost time. One possible answer would be her binding Charlotte's friends to her will and making them remove the bracelet, but I assume it does not work that way/the bracelet prevents such a method somehow. And clearly Echo did do some 'normal' things as well, given that she took Charlotte's body out with her parents. Multiple possible motivations there, since usually she seems to have no interest in Charlotte's day to day life (and this is mentioned in the chapter as well). Curious to see what the actual reason(s) is/are.

Makes me wonder as well - if Echo ends up eventually leaving, what happens to all the mesmerized people? And if they do go back to normal, how much of what happened will they remember?

[RopeBunny]

Once again, noone notices the bracelet. (Not even her parents!) I'm waiting patiently for more.

Some of this, now, is me not wanting to overstate the bracelets presence. Feel I've covered often the fact of nobody being able to see it, don't want to keep mentioning the fact.

Repetition.

Wonder what happened to her friends

As you'll see below that's something I'm skimping the detail on. Choosing what I write, not particularly wanting to dwel on their predicament, preferring to move things along.

[RopeBunny]

Meeting of Minds.

"So...."
"So...."
"Hey, Char."
"Hey, Chelle."

"I. Well." Nervous fidgeting. "Did anything happen the other day. After...."

Exchanged glances, a shrug. Someone, more then one staring down at her wrists, memory. Leaking.

"Shit. Sorry, girls."
"S'not your fault Char."
"Yeah, but...."

Silence, and a general fidgeting. The unseen fifth in the room that nobody wants to call out.

Lest it come.

"Talking then?"
"Talking." Finding a smile, nodding. "Should we, um?"
"Maybe if I tell you what little." Brief laugh, no humour in the sound. "I know first?"
"Right." Looking at the other two. "Yeah. Good plan."

"Echo."

A pause. Waiting.

"And...?"
"And that's it." Laughing, again though slightly more real sounding now. "Mostly all I've got is the name. Which you told me."
"But." Lost, blinking. Mind working. "Surely you've...." Looking to the others for inspiration. Help.

"Seen things." Taking over, leaning forward and gesturing. "Heard or. Felt, things?"

Watching as Char squirms at that last offering.

"Oh."
"Yeah. It's." Another squirm, a grimace. "Right." Letting out a held in breath. "Fine."

"I called her, and she came."
"She." Confused. "Came?"
"Appeared, in the mirror." Fighting a shiver. "Tall. Black skinned half transparent naked lady with really big...."

Making the gesture, already begun before she and Chelle both realise: she's looking at Chelle whilst forming the phantom shapes.

Both Chelle and Char blush in unison.

"Eight tentacles." Squirming, shifting the muscles in her back. "Which-"
"-We saw you grow."

Which, after looking around. Coast clear. Char turns her back on them, lifting her shirt up and off.

Revealing eight scars, running two lines of four down her back.

"Fuuuuucccckk."
"Damn. I mean." High nervous laughter. "Despite everything, sometimes it doesn't seem real but." Head shaking. "Proof, right there. Fuck."
"Do they...?"

Running a hand down Chars back, tracing. Not thinking.

Until Char gasps, looking over her shoulder eyes meeting Chelle. Catching her in the act.

Both girls blushing again as Char lowers her shirt.

"She was only. Um. Outside me for a moment though. Seconds, and then something dragged her back in."
"Dragged."
"Well." Shaky laugh. "Okay maybe not. There was a flash, and she vanished. But I." A shiver, one hand going to her belly. "Feel. Her, sometimes."
"Fuck."
"Fuck." Nodding.

"I know she comes and goes as she pleases." A huff, head shaking. Something like despair leaking in at the edges. "Pushing me aside. Down into numb darkness."

Another shiver, Chelle. Tentative, a little fear on her face but stepping forwards to put an arm around Char, rubbing her side.

"I know there's power. I can feel it, when she comes. Just, raw unmeasurable power. Lighting my muscles and thoughts, the inner parts of me up. As she comes I can feel it. The unstoppable essence of her. Echo."

A pause. A single tear, angrily wiped away.

"I'm just her puppet. And I'm fucked."

Crying, harder as the other three step in to hug her. Tentative all of them, as though afraid, of Char.

Of what's inside Char.

"Well." Some time later. "Echo, right."
"Right."
"Who we weren't meant to summon that night at the crossroads."
"Wait." Chelle, and this is news to her. "You did what at the where?"
"Sammy has an old book." Half smiling. "We thought it would be. Fun, to summon a spirit. Um, ghost or whatever."
"Fun?"

Looking at the three of them, her new, maybe, group of friends. Disbelief, which in the face of they, the three conspirators to the summoning, can't help but laugh.

A happy, free sound.

"Echo. Tricked?" Unsure still. "Us, somehow? We Summoned her, not the wisp. But we trapped her too. Somehow."
"Somehow?"
"Somehow." Nodding, a shrug.

How did they trap something of such power?

"She doesn't like it."
"Being trapped?"
"On the field. When she came, and...."

Exchanging looks with her fellow prisoners, just three amongst the growing number of Echo's playthings.

Although so far. Luckily for them. Unmarked.

"When she tied us up." Shivering, still internally at war. Being tied by a monster is bad. Yes. But being tied in general is. Surprisingly, good.

"Right." Nodding. "She talked, told us she wanted out. Of you. Char. She, um...."
"She told us to get a fucking move on and free her, or else she'd find her own way out." Not able to look at Char, because Echo, finding her own exit.

It doesn't sound healthy for the thing she's breaking out of.

"I. See." Fighting, controlling the urge to both run a mile: what point when the thing you're running from is inside? And managing by supreme effort not to throw up breakfast, and last nights dinner.

Sudden all too real images of Echo, of how she could. Might? Surely, simply a case of tearing her prison apart, from the inside.

Fatal. Basically.

"So. Girls." Trying on a smile, which falls off then manages to resurface. "Any thoughts?"
"Well...." Thinking. "We, tried already."
"The balloons?"
"Best we could do." Nodding, exchanging a look with Sammy, nodding too. "Given all Sammy's books."
"And we researched the absolute crap out of it, for days."
"And it still didn't work." Fidgeting, remembering the moment, the rising anger as Echo had stomped. Literally it had felt like. Out of the depths.

"So." Chelle, the outsider, a shrug. "We need an expert maybe?"
"Well...." Thoughtful, the others waiting, this being very much Sammy's area.

"I. There's a guy. A blog I read, a professor. I could reach out, try to. Um." Laughing, the thought. Four schoolgirls that they are, and this guy what will he make of them. "Beg, for a meeting. For help?"
"Try." Nodding. "Please, any new angle has to be worth investigating."

[Syko Sith]

The girls FINALLY decide to look for outside help. Wonder if that'll do anything. (Other than anger Echo)
I know you just posted this, I'm already looking for more.

[RopeBunny]

I know you just posted this, I'm already looking for more.

Honestly

I did only just post, and here you are already commenting and wanting more.

Answers in the next chapter, ot course.

[Syko Sith]

Looking forward to it
If I ever get past my writer's block, I might post a story of my own.

[BlissfulMisery]

Quite the awkward situation, talking about it all with Echo presumably listening in. And hearing that they seem to have no idea about the bracelet.

And saying nothing about it. A strange callousness to have about the whole thing.

It is interesting that they brought up the times Echo has appeared and how the one time the bracelet stopped her, but it has not since. Further supporting the theory that it is growing weaker on its own, or slowly becoming overwhelmed by Echo's power.

Probably the reason she stays dormant most of the time - building up her strength perhaps?

Either way, the bracelet has not been very consistent in its effects over time, even if it has weakening, which begs the question as to what was different all the other times that Echo was able to manifest.

A good thought to seek an expert, however I suspect if said expert is truly as knowledgeable as they hope, then they will not be particularly happy to have Echo brought to their doorstep...

Well as you said, answers in the following chapters. Perhaps not to all of these things, but I suppose my musings often go quite astray

[RopeBunny]

Either way, the bracelet has not been very consistent in its effects over time, even if it has weakening, which begs the question as to what was different all the other times that Echo was able to manifest.

Right.

Thought I'd been consistent here, mostly.

But perhaps not.

So.

I've definitely never alluded, knowingly, to the bracelet weakening or becoming less effective.
The first night, in the crossroads and again in bed.
Attempting to jump from Char to Chelle in the woods.
Appearing in the mirror.
Each time Echo has attempted to leave Char, not to manifest her various powers but to fully leave, the bracelet has stepped in to stop her.

To drag her back inside.

The bracelet, and I'll mention this because it's no longer relevant. The colouring is often mentioned as 'dirty red' not because it's failing or breaking but due to the blood used in it's construction.

I had originally a different storyline in place. Echo more friendly, patient and talkative to the girls. Who would need to go around convincing various girls (including the sister and Chelle the bully) to help them break the bracelet.

Blood to create and that same blood to destroy. Logic of a sort and suitably horror like.

But instead we have what's evolved here, which I far prefer. Lauren as slave/pet, and Chelle as a fourth member of the group.

Echo can do whatever she wants, with Char, she can use any power she wishes.

She just can't leave.

Like I say, the mixed telling, the wrong information coming across is likely me. The downside of my somewhat fluid and flowing narrative, which is the way I write.

Most of my stories change as I go, almost none finish how I planned at the beginning.

So. Sorry, for the mis-reading occurring.

[RopeBunny]

017.
Samantha.

And everything goes great, until it doesn't.

Luckily, some twist of fate, there's a school inset day the following week. School closed, teachers only. Supposedly doing training but most likely sitting around. Enjoying the silence.

Tentative, I've reached out to Professor Fogle, he of H. F. Investigations, a blog I avidly follow alongside several other various podcasts and YouTube creators. Anyone who takes the unseen world seriously, not as a tool for more views.

Certainly nobody, and there are many, who are clearly faking footage and generally making it up as they go.

And would you believe it the good professor is intrigued, by what little- that we believe Charlotte may actually be possessed -I share beforehand.

We. Believe, that she might.

Ha.

We'd had plans: Char, Tash and I. Before the crossroads unmade our lives, changing everything, we'd seen today on the horizon and had begun thinking how best to spend a schoolday with no school.

We'd saved, begged permissions off our parents: stay together, be home by nine.

Don't talk to strangers.

A day out, which it still is only now Chelle makes it four, and instead of the railway delivering us to the coast, we're city bound.

A university.

After we argue, first at the ticket office and again on the train. The exact same argument, almost word for fucking word.

Because we're asking for, showing, child tickets.

Four of us, and at fifteen we're allowed to pay the discounted fare. But unfortunately wearing various skirts and shorts, tight tops.

We don't look fifteen.

But, we make it, walking through a campus teeming with mature- eighteen and upwards -students, attracting looks. Frowns of confusion mixed in with clear interest from boys, and girls who don't realise we're a couple of years off belonging.

We giggle, which creates more frowns and so we giggle some more. Finding the office by the proven method of walking in circles for a half hour.

"Professor," me in front, the others huddled behind as the door opens, "Fogle?"
"Why yes." Making a smile for us, nodding and stepping back. "And, well. I shouldn't think all four of you are possessed. No?"

Which three of us giggle at, Char biting her lip as we step inside.

The office is exactly as you'd expect: shelves of old books and the craziest looking ornaments. Any one of which could be something, or nothing. An ancient world map framed on the wall, from long enough ago there are sea monsters in every ocean. Desk piled with more books, the curtains closed, shutting out the sun but that's okay because all the lights are on.

As for Fogle: younger then expected, late thirties or fourty-two. Or something? Clean shaven with long messy hair he's forever brushing back with a hand, the movement seeming distracted. Automatic. Open necked shirt and trousers worn over a slim frame.

And.

Well.

For ten minutes, fifteen, he really does try to be helpful.

But unfortunately we, neither him nor us, aren't asking the right questions.

And worse, we don't know that.

"Enough." Char, quiet throughout, moping. She's been largely quiet since we all talked, shared.

Can't blame her really, can't even begin to imagine her mental state most days, knowing what's inside of her.

Speaking of which.

Eyes of purest dark, glaring at us all and those extra limbs already grown. Can't shake the shiver chasing through me, thoughts making spider or Kraken, god like connections, the way they curve and arch around her. Poised, ready.

Menacing.

Taking a step forwards, mouth opening and arms moving to spread wide. Peace, and no clue what I'm about to say as Char.

Echo.

Irritated, shrugging off the now ruined vest top leaving her in black camouflage short skirt, flaring with each movement and a white bra with pink lace.

"No." Stopping me, dead, with a single word. Shaking her head and sweeping the room, all of us, with a disappointed gaze.

What did we do? Not do?

"That you all can be so clever and yet so. Blind." That last word shouted. Anger enough to blow half the bulbs in Fogle's office, from overly bright to muted dimness and shadow.

Catching movement and moments later I'm caught, wrapped. The three of us girls taken and though we fight, wriggle and plead through suddenly wrapped mouths.

Echo secures us anyway.

Seven of her eight appendages. Tentacles and you know, rigid at times they might seem, spider like at times too, but they behave more like tentacles, a Kraken- but not -spawned and growing from her back.

So. Tentacles.

Seven of the eight conspire to pin and wrap the three of us, Char's friends but not hers. Of which Echo has been more then clear, happily demonstrating her lack of care for or about us again now.

The whole small room becoming just a mass of black limbs, crossing each other as they run out from Echo's back to all the corners.

Chelle: pinned and laid on her back, atop Professor Fogle's swept clean desk. Arms and legs- luckily she's wearing shorts -spread and bent, stretched across and over the edge, down the sides, wrapped at wrist and ankle to the desk legs. Her large tight tee clad bust bouncing and wobbling each time she struggles, thrust and repeatedly pushed upwards towards the ceiling.

Quite eye catching.

Tash: standing, pinned against a thick floor to ceiling pipe, water or gas. Something? In one corner of the room, her wrists behind it, her back pressed to the smooth surface, legs together. Blinking furiously but remaining bodily still as her eyes dart desperately around the room.

Me: I'm sat down, in one of two wooden framed chairs beside the desk. Not Fogle's chair, on the other side. Legs spread and held fast to the chair frame at the front, my skirt riding up, arms draped over the low back, pinned behind. And at first I struggle too, fighting despite we all know the the futility.

Struggling until I realise I'm, like Chelle, repeatedly thrusting both chest and crotch out at the room.

I stop.

"You." Turning her attention towards the Professor, who'd been busily taking photos on his phone.

Of- Echo too but mostly of -us.

For- fucks sake aren't we a little young -science, right?

"Scholar." Fogle, dropping the phone which sadly doesn't smash, as Echo advances, eyes flicking left and right, looking for an escape but the room's too small.

"Tell me what you know of this?"
"Wha...?" Swallowing, staring as are we all. Echo bringing up her left wrist, shaking it in Fogle's face.

Some dirty red fabric and brown leather bracelet. So loose it should've fallen off.

Why does the bracelet matter?

"I." Reaching back to touch his books whilst still staring, at Echo. Eyes wide. "Well."
"Now. Scholar."
"Right."

Crossing her arms, waiting. Not bothering to look at or check on the three of us. Pinned and going nowhere, softly moaning, occasionally struggling still even though all it achieves is catching Fogle's occasionally wandering eye.

Pervert.

Helpless, at Echo's mercy.

"Okay." Turning back around, thick leather bound book in hand, open. Fogle runs a hand down the page. "I."
"Yes?" Char's voice, possibly the worst of it all, that Echo speaks using Char's girlish young tones.

Really fucking disconcerting.

"Right." Fogle, hurriedly looking back down. "Well. There were, reportedly. Five Nightmares, and based on." Waving a hand, at the single tentacle not binding anyone, low down on Echo's left side and half curving around her. "You would most likely be a manifestation of Echo. Who-"
"-No."

Bite of anger in the word, an unseen wind blasting through the room, upsetting papers and knocking the book from Fogle's hand.

Tash, beginning to moan as the wind ruffles her hair, chasing a quick circuit of the pipe and her tentacle bound body before departing.

"This." Echo bringing up her left wrist, shaking it in Fogle's face.

Some dirty red fabric and brown leather bracelet. So loose it should've fallen off.

Why does the bracelet matter?

"You will search for this." Shaking it again, and how it remains on Char's wrist?

Did she put it on this morning?

"You will tell me. Scholar, how to remove this. Without my having to visit the River."
"River?"

River?

"Focus." Pointing, at his books. "Now."

Nodding, turning back around hurriedly and plunging into his various tomes. Picking up and discarding. Frowning, half turning back to face Echo before shaking his head.

Back to the books.

Whilst the three of us wait, unsure of our fate. Worrying, not yet panicked.

Like a baseline, an occasional shiver whenever the situation: helpless and at the mercy of an angry Nightmare who doesn't care.

Crosses the thoughts. And prehaps that known helplessness is why we aren't screaming?

What good would it do.

"It says here that the Nightmares will never be found together." Frowning. Reading. "Something about-"
"-You."

Suddenly she's right in front of him, the same trick Echo pulled in the school corridor, wrapped briefly in darkness and executing some form of point to point instant jump.

"Help. Me." Staring Fogle in the eye from inches away, and him backed against his precious books. Unable to run.

"You will not find the Nightmare Echo ungrateful."

Her last tentacle, gently grasping his head under the chin, twisting it to the side, to face the office as Echo makes a sweeping arm gesture.

At.

"Help, show me knowledge, and you may consider yourself rewarded."

Us.

Selling us. Offering us as payment for services rendered. And we three too helpless to stop this. I'd like to think, to say the good Professor is, well. Good. But I saw how his eyes wandered as we'd talked. Before Echo's appearance. I've seen them wandering since. Often.

The man is clearly a pervert.

Probably already trying to figure out how to sneak us out the building.

Fucks sake.

With Fogle's attention, Echo brings up her left wrist, shaking it in his face.

Some dirty red fabric and brown leather bracelet. So loose it should've fallen off.

Why does the bracelet matter?

And again, we all wait.

What exactly is it Echo wants? What piece of information, about what thing or circumstance?

What is the River?

And why does it matter?

And again, apparently whatever information Fogle finds, regarding Echo, regarding the Nightmares as actual things. Beings.

It seems to be wrong, or not enough.

With a huff, a final anger filled sweep of the room, Echo leaves.

Her tentacles dissipating into nothing, leaving tightly wrapped rope and cloth behind, the three of us. Still secure.

Still helpless in- pervert -Fogle's office. Not left behind as payment, likely instead due to Echo simply not caring about us.

Walking away.

Which, the tension, the weight of silence and Fogle looking, gaze jumping from bound girl to bound girl. Can see his brain working, slight narrowing of the eyes and the complete lack of his instantly freeing us.

Time stretching.

Saved, most likely, from some kind of fate or other although surely he couldn't really sneak us out of here.

Surely not all three- sorry Chelle, but that large bust is awfully attention grabbing -of us?

But we're saved by a knock at the door, prompting the good- not -Professor to action. Shouted orders to wait whilst he hurriedly frees us. Not meeting our eyes as we variously scowl.

As Chelle.

Go girl.

Knees him where he'll feel it on the way out.

And no sign of Echo, not even any sign of a now topless and bra exposed Char.

But she could be anywhere, doing anything.

So we head home.

[RopeBunny]

Darkness.
Charlotte?

Am I?

Always. Every

time.

I blink, and

come

back.

But what if I didn't.

Blink.

What i

f I loo

ked.

.
.
...
.
..
....
.
.

Darkn

ess and a m

a

ze.

There's a maz

e i

n

m

y head?

What?

[Syko Sith]

So THAT was your original concept. Interesting. When I write I have an outline in my head. Bullet points I like to say. That leaves the actual story flexible. So long as I at least mention the original idea. You tend to jump around sometimes. I can’t decide which style is better.

[Syko Sith]

Like I thought, the expert couldn't help. That second part though. Absolutely chilling! The stuff nightmares are made of. (Probably a bad movie quote. Sue me )
Samantha clearly doesn't remember the bracelet she made. This story has more twists than a dance contest! (Another bad pun )
Continue at your leisure.

[RopeBunny]

When I write I have an outline in my head. Bullet points I like to say. That leaves the actual story flexible. So long as I at least mention the original idea. You tend to jump around sometimes. I can’t decide which style is better.

I do jump around can't help it, as I've said there's always just so much I want to include

I use bullet points too, an outline trail of steps I'd like to follow. There's always a beginning and end. The trouble is I often think up a better ending, or an interesting middle twist that requires a better ending.

The perils of writing this way, posting chapter by chapter as opposed writing the solid whole as you would a book. Unfortunately you all have to follow my meandering course

As for better? Merits and pitfalls to both, no wrong answers I feel. I like my way, but have read many other styles which work brilliantly too.

[RopeBunny]

That second part though. Absolutely chilling! The stuff nightmares are made of.

Thank you

Truly

I'm really pleased with that chapter too, and- not too large a spoiler -I'll be doing it again, at some point.

Regarding the bracelet, no, she doesn't. None of them remember save Echo, who as a non human has certain special skills and so forth, which help her know and be aware of things the rest of us just can't see.