1 Tesla Court, Beaker Castle
For the umpteenth time, Nervous Subject sat down at the lie detector, the unfriendly halo of electrodes cold against his skull.
Nervous did not remember a time when he had gotten up from this procedure without getting his requisite electric shock, as Loki Beaker always seemed to engineer the tests such that Nervous never escaped the electricity.
Sometimes, Nervous wondered if Loki had a sadistic streak, and secretly enjoyed seeing his poor test subject squirm.
No. Nervous was sure that Loki had a sadistic streak. Loki’s wife, Circe, was no different. This boolprop had been going on for too long, so there was no denying that.
Alas, there was no time to muse any further, for Loki was ready to start his next round of torture, no, experimentation.
“OK, Nervous, I need you to answer this question with a lie. Did you like the dish Circe cooked yesterday?”
“Yes, I really loved it…” The inevitable electricity blasted through Nervous’ calm facade. But this time, his helpless scream took on a slightly different note.
“AAAAAAARGGHHHHHHHHH… THIS HUUUURTSSSSS… HEELPP MOOOMMYYYY… AHHHHHHHHHHH,” was his agonized cry, before passing out.
“Nervous? Nervous! Oh boolprop, my test subject just passed out again! So early this evening! By Odin’s beard, now I have to look for a way to get him back to his senses quickly, or the other tests scheduled for tonight would be delayed! Well, at least now I know I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like Circe’s gyros…”
13 Dead End Lane, Specter Yard
Meanwhile, elderly Olive Specter was having a quiet dinner with her teenage niece, Ophelia Nigmos. Specter had been Ophelia’s legal guardian since she was orphaned at nine years old. The two were not particularly close, but enjoyed a positive cordial relationship.
“HEELPP MOOOMMYYYY… AHHHHHHHHHHH!!” This inexplicable scream pierced Olive Specter’s mind, shattering her concentration while listening to Ophelia’s routine account of her academic progress.
“Nervous?” Specter muttered aloud to herself.
“No, I’m not nervous. Are you alright, Aunt Olive?”
“Yes… of course you’re not nervous, Ophelia. Don’t worry, I’m just thinking aloud.”
Ophelia looked askance at her aunt. Silence reigned at the table, as both women concentrated on finishing their meal.
Specter was deep in thought. “But I did hear my son screaming for help. And I know where he is now! I’ve been looking forward to this day, ever since he got taken away by those social workers in Midnight Hollow. Now he’s here in Strangetown! In the same neighborhood! But he cried for help, that isn’t a good sign. I should probably go take a look.”
As Ophelia was leaving the dinner table, Specter called out, “I’m going out dear, I’m late for the dinner party at Aunt Isabella’s house. See you later, Ophelia.”
“See you, Aunt Olive,” muttered Ophelia tentatively, as she made a quick exit with her plate. First that bizarrely random “nervous” remark, now an “Aunt Isabella” that she had never heard of? Why would Aunt Olive bother eating a full dinner at home, if she were really invited to a dinner party? Was Aunt Olive going senile? Ophelia shrugged. Maybe she was just worrying too much.
It might have been dangerous for an old woman to walk alone at night, on the deserted dark streets of Strangetown. But Olive Specter focused on her inner senses, which led her up the hill to 1 Tesla Court.
Through the multiple archways, Specter glimpsed a red-headed woman crossing from the living room to the dining area. Specter gritted her teeth, as she marched up to the entrance arches. What was this woman doing to Nervous?
“Let me in!”
“Good evening, Ma’am. You are…?” Circe Beaker was clearly not expecting any visitors at this hour.
“Doesn’t matter. May I come in?”
“Ma’am, I do like to know who you are first.” It was getting hard for Circe to be polite to this shrewish old woman.
Specter tried her best not to glare. “My name is Lerato Muenda. Can I come in now?” Specter’s late mother’s name was the first to come to mind, when a pseudonym was required.
“Of course, Ms Muenda. My husband will be here soon. Would you mind a cup of coffee?”
As Olive Specter took her seat on the sofa, she caught a glimpse of the back wing of the castle. Industrial-grade scientific machines… and a fence surrounding a basement chamber.
Specter would have expected a tall scientific device to be poking its head out above the fence, but there was no way of telling what, or WHO, was in that basement.
Her reverie was cut short by Circe returning from the back room with a blond man.
“Hello Ma’am, my name is Loki Beaker. You’ve probably met my wife, Circe, already.”
“Yes, and is it true that you’ve adopted a boy with the nickname ‘Nervous Subject’ a long time ago?
“Umm, that’s true. Is that why you’re here?” Loki furrowed his brow, which made him look monstrously eyeless.
“Yes, I’m his mother. I want him back, NOW!”
“Calm down Ma’am, your son is currently not here,” Circe’s voice was tinged with saccharine sweetness. “He’s too valuable to us, we can’t just give him away to any random person who knocks on our door.”
“You haven’t even got a door, and I’m not just a random person. I’m his fringin’ mother, and I know you two evil scientists are hurting him. I will ask it politely one more time: Would you two please return my son to me, his own mother? I’m giving you two choices, either you give him back now, or else…”
Loki grimaced. “Ma’am, it has been a pleasure meeting you, but now you’re forcing me to do something I don’t like. Get out of our house, before I call the police!”
“Hmmph, but this ain’t over yet. Just wait and see.” Specter stormed out without looking back.
After Specter was a safe distance away, Circe stared at her husband. “Call the cops? Are you nuts?”
Loki laughed. “I know we can’t, but it’s not like we need to. What can a miserable old woman like her do?”
Olive Specter’s heavy heart made the long walk home seem even longer. The first thing she did upon reaching home was to check her niece’s bedroom. The sight of Ophelia’s sleeping form relieved her, as Specter closed her niece’s door and proceeded back to her own room.
Specter proceeded to pry open an old wardrobe that she scarcely used, dragging out an old pedestal with skull engravings. On top of the antiquated structure sat a device that resembled a landline telephone. Specter knew that it would only work via her other connection, as an electrical cord to a mortal telecommunications company would simply not do the trick.
She picked up the skull phone’s receiver, and dialed a number from memory. She then muttered a name under her breath.
A humanoid form appeared in a poof of red smoke. Specter had expected a gray zombie, but there stood a very familiar-looking sim that seemed to be made of regular flesh and blood, just as she last remembered him.
Specter sensed a blankness in the man’s eyes. She hesitated for a moment. Would a being of flesh and blood be of any use for her purposes? Only one way to find out…
“Earl E. DeMise. My dear, I haven’t seen you since, well, you know… Hahaha.”
Earl E. DeMise glared at Specter. Now was the moment of truth.
“Earl E., dear, clean up my bathroom.”
Without hesitation, Earl E. entered the bathroom. He began brushing the toilet, shower and basin, till they were spotlessly clean.
Olive Specter washed her hands with glee in the freshly-cleaned basin. It was impossible for her to hide the look of exhilaration on her face.
Note from the Authors:
According to Specter’s in-game memories, as a young woman, she was due to marry Earl E., but he left her at the altar.
Other fans believe that Specter is completely innocent, but extremely unlucky, because all who get romantically involved with her seem to die an untimely death. As for the service NPC victims, a jinx on Specter’s house, rather than Specter herself, is considered to be the culprit instead.
2. In terms of pure gameplay, most of the DEFAULT dead sims in Specter Yard would cause game corruption if any attempt is made to resurrect them. Therefore, to make this scene possible, the authors used SimPE to extract the physical appearances of the dead sims, then made “safe” clones of them in CAS.
What is Olive Specter up to?
Should Loki and Circe Beaker be worried?
Which Strangetown families would appear in the [next chapter]?