Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 4, 2007 18:27:53 GMT -5
Title: The Escape
Cast: Esmé Squalor, Carmelita Spats, Jerome Squalor, Vice Principal Nero.
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Series of Unfortunate Events characters or places mentioned therein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler.
Rating: PG (for language).
Genre: Drama/Action/Romance
Story-Type: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Summery: This is my version of how Esmé Squalor, Carmelita Spats, Jerome Squalor and Vice Principal Nero escaped the fire at the end of The Penultimate Peril. I also apologize if the ending seems a little out of character for Esmé. I was listening to HIM the entire time I was writing this, and I also happen to be a huge fan of Esmé/Jerome, so go figure.
***************************************************************************************
Esmé Squalor tore the blindfold from her face and gasped in horror at the fiery scene playing out before her.
“Carmelita!” she screamed. “Get away from that window!”
“What?” asked Carmelita Spats, who was still unable to see anyone or anything due to the blindfold that she was stubbornly refusing to remove. “Who said that?”
“Carmelita,” Esmé said again, this time more calmly so she wouldn’t frighten the little girl, “I want you to remove that blindfold and step away from the window. You’re going to see some very scary things when you open your eyes, but just concentrate on moving towards me.”
“I told you before that those cakesniffing orphans were lying!” Carmelita argued.
Esmé was losing patience, but she did her best to stay calm. After all, she was going to need to in order to get them both out of here alive. “No, they weren’t. I took my blindfold off and the hotel is on fire. Please, darling. Stop arguing and just do as I say.”
“No!”
Esmé looked around in desperation. The flames were growing hotter, getting closer. She shivered. Was there no one left to save them? “Carmelita,” she said. “On second thought, don’t move. I’m coming over.” Slowly, Esmé put one foot forward, followed by the other, and repeated the process until she had reached Carmelita and snatched the blindfold from her eyes.
“The hotel,” Carmelita gasped, looking around at the flames that had managed to engulf them both so quickly. “It’s on fire…”
Knowing an “I-told-you-so speech” was the last thing on her list of Things to Do Right Now, Esmé racked her brain desperately in order to come up with an answer. If only that one Baudelaire brat— the girl, the oldest sibling, the one who was always inventing things on the spur of the moment in order to get her and her equally bratty siblings out of danger —was here, then she could come up with an invention to save them. But she wasn’t here, and neither were the other two. And Olaf, what about Olaf? Probably off somewhere looking for that blasted sugar bowl. Esmé could have scoffed at the very thought of her ex-boyfriend’s name if she weren’t so busy trying to think of a way to escape the flames of the burning Hotel Denouement. She was still trying to come up with a solution when a piece of the above floor caved in and nearly nailed both her and Carmelita before Esmé pulled her out of the way and over to safety.
“We can’t stay here,” Carmelita sobbed.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” Esmé snapped, angry at herself for not being able to think of a way to save herself and the daughter she never had. “Damn you, Olaf…”
“Esmé!”
It was a voice she knew well. She looked up. “Jerome!”
Jerome Squalor was sprawled out on his stomach on the second floor, stretching his arm as far as he could through the hole made by the piece of floor that had caved in before. Vice Principal Nero was sprawled beside him, offering one of his hands as well. “We found a way out,” Jerome explained. “The rooftop has already collapsed, so we’ll have to swim for it.”
Carmelita shook her head in fear. “But I don’t know how to swim,” she said shakily.
Vice Principal Nero was far too desperate to think of making fun of someone who didn’t know how to swim, which isn’t a very nice thing to do even if that person happens to be Carmelita Spats, and instead he offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry,” Nero told her. “I’m a strong swimmer, so you can ride on my back.”
Esmé turned to Carmelita and offered the terrified child a comforting smile of her own. “It’ll be okay,” Esmé said. “You go first.” And before Carmelita could refuse, Esmé picked her up and shoved her toward Nero and Jerome, who each took her by one hand and swung her up onto the next floor. Then it was Esmé’s turn, and soon enough Jerome was leading everyone towards the remains of what had been the rooftop sunbathing salon only a few hours earlier.
“Climb on, Carmelita,” Nero instructed, bending his knees so that she could climb onto his back.
She did.
“You too, Esmé,” Jerome said, motioning with his hand for her to climb onto his back. She did so, and to his surprise without a single argument. “Now, is everyone ready?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Nero replied, giving Jerome a confident smile.
Jerome nodded and turned back to the window. “Let’s go,” he said, and together he and Nero leaped from the sixth-story window of the Hotel Denouement and into the ocean.
The two men and two women hit the water with a vengeance, a phrase which here means “so harshly that it felt like they had just landed on an endless glass platform and shattered it”. Moments later the four of them resurfaced, coughing and sputtering from the amount of water that had gotten into their lungs when they hit the bottom. Esmé’s heart was beating so rapidly that she could almost hear it, and as she glanced over at Carmelita, Esmé saw that Carmelita was shivering as she clung desperately to Nero’s backside. Esmé could hear Jerome grunting as he struggled frantically towards Briny Beach, which was far enough away from the Hotel Denouement to keep them out of danger’s waiting arms.
When they finally reached their safe place, Jerome and Nero carried Esmé and Carmelita ashore. While the women undressed, Jerome and Nero took a walk further down the beach to give Esmé and Carmelita some privacy. It was a hot day, and so their clothes dried quickly, and by the time the men returned the water in their hair and clothing had completely evaporated.
For dinner they caught fish that they cooked over a roaring fire and then went to sleep without saying much of anything. In the middle of the night Jerome awoke to find Esmé gone, and when he looked around he spotted her sitting alone at the edge of the shore, staring out at the ocean. He went over and sat beside her.
“Can’t you sleep?” he asked.
The only answer he received were the waves crashing against some nearby rocks.
“Why did you do that?” Esmé asked finally.
“Do what?”
“You know perfectly well ‘what’,” Esmé said.
“No, I don’t,” Jerome insisted. “I swear I don’t.”
“I can understand why you saved Carmelita. She’s just a little girl. But me?” Esmé turned to look at Jerome and he saw immediately why she had failed to do so before— she was crying.
He made a motion with his hand to touch her face, but she turned away before he could. “Esmé…”
“Don’t,” she said. “Please. You’ve done more than enough already. I don’t deserve your kindness…”
“What are you talking about?” Jerome asked.
Esmé didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ve come to a decision,” she went on. “Tomorrow I’m taking Carmelita and heading into the Mortmain Mountains. Supposedly, that’s where the last safe place is located. When I lost Olaf, I lost everything. The only thing I have left is Carmelita, and from what she’s told me she has no one to care for her either.” Esmé stood up and looked once more at Jerome, who was staring back at her in silent shock. “Please, Jerome. Do both of us a favor and don’t come after me.” She turned and headed back over to where Carmelita and Nero still lay sleeping by the extinguished campfire.
The following morning Jerome awoke to find a note written in the sand that he recognized as Esmé’s handwriting where a long stick had been laid next to it. The note read simply:
Promise me.
~E.S.
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The End
Cast: Esmé Squalor, Carmelita Spats, Jerome Squalor, Vice Principal Nero.
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own any of the A Series of Unfortunate Events characters or places mentioned therein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler.
Rating: PG (for language).
Genre: Drama/Action/Romance
Story-Type: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Summery: This is my version of how Esmé Squalor, Carmelita Spats, Jerome Squalor and Vice Principal Nero escaped the fire at the end of The Penultimate Peril. I also apologize if the ending seems a little out of character for Esmé. I was listening to HIM the entire time I was writing this, and I also happen to be a huge fan of Esmé/Jerome, so go figure.
***************************************************************************************
Esmé Squalor tore the blindfold from her face and gasped in horror at the fiery scene playing out before her.
“Carmelita!” she screamed. “Get away from that window!”
“What?” asked Carmelita Spats, who was still unable to see anyone or anything due to the blindfold that she was stubbornly refusing to remove. “Who said that?”
“Carmelita,” Esmé said again, this time more calmly so she wouldn’t frighten the little girl, “I want you to remove that blindfold and step away from the window. You’re going to see some very scary things when you open your eyes, but just concentrate on moving towards me.”
“I told you before that those cakesniffing orphans were lying!” Carmelita argued.
Esmé was losing patience, but she did her best to stay calm. After all, she was going to need to in order to get them both out of here alive. “No, they weren’t. I took my blindfold off and the hotel is on fire. Please, darling. Stop arguing and just do as I say.”
“No!”
Esmé looked around in desperation. The flames were growing hotter, getting closer. She shivered. Was there no one left to save them? “Carmelita,” she said. “On second thought, don’t move. I’m coming over.” Slowly, Esmé put one foot forward, followed by the other, and repeated the process until she had reached Carmelita and snatched the blindfold from her eyes.
“The hotel,” Carmelita gasped, looking around at the flames that had managed to engulf them both so quickly. “It’s on fire…”
Knowing an “I-told-you-so speech” was the last thing on her list of Things to Do Right Now, Esmé racked her brain desperately in order to come up with an answer. If only that one Baudelaire brat— the girl, the oldest sibling, the one who was always inventing things on the spur of the moment in order to get her and her equally bratty siblings out of danger —was here, then she could come up with an invention to save them. But she wasn’t here, and neither were the other two. And Olaf, what about Olaf? Probably off somewhere looking for that blasted sugar bowl. Esmé could have scoffed at the very thought of her ex-boyfriend’s name if she weren’t so busy trying to think of a way to escape the flames of the burning Hotel Denouement. She was still trying to come up with a solution when a piece of the above floor caved in and nearly nailed both her and Carmelita before Esmé pulled her out of the way and over to safety.
“We can’t stay here,” Carmelita sobbed.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” Esmé snapped, angry at herself for not being able to think of a way to save herself and the daughter she never had. “Damn you, Olaf…”
“Esmé!”
It was a voice she knew well. She looked up. “Jerome!”
Jerome Squalor was sprawled out on his stomach on the second floor, stretching his arm as far as he could through the hole made by the piece of floor that had caved in before. Vice Principal Nero was sprawled beside him, offering one of his hands as well. “We found a way out,” Jerome explained. “The rooftop has already collapsed, so we’ll have to swim for it.”
Carmelita shook her head in fear. “But I don’t know how to swim,” she said shakily.
Vice Principal Nero was far too desperate to think of making fun of someone who didn’t know how to swim, which isn’t a very nice thing to do even if that person happens to be Carmelita Spats, and instead he offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry,” Nero told her. “I’m a strong swimmer, so you can ride on my back.”
Esmé turned to Carmelita and offered the terrified child a comforting smile of her own. “It’ll be okay,” Esmé said. “You go first.” And before Carmelita could refuse, Esmé picked her up and shoved her toward Nero and Jerome, who each took her by one hand and swung her up onto the next floor. Then it was Esmé’s turn, and soon enough Jerome was leading everyone towards the remains of what had been the rooftop sunbathing salon only a few hours earlier.
“Climb on, Carmelita,” Nero instructed, bending his knees so that she could climb onto his back.
She did.
“You too, Esmé,” Jerome said, motioning with his hand for her to climb onto his back. She did so, and to his surprise without a single argument. “Now, is everyone ready?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Nero replied, giving Jerome a confident smile.
Jerome nodded and turned back to the window. “Let’s go,” he said, and together he and Nero leaped from the sixth-story window of the Hotel Denouement and into the ocean.
The two men and two women hit the water with a vengeance, a phrase which here means “so harshly that it felt like they had just landed on an endless glass platform and shattered it”. Moments later the four of them resurfaced, coughing and sputtering from the amount of water that had gotten into their lungs when they hit the bottom. Esmé’s heart was beating so rapidly that she could almost hear it, and as she glanced over at Carmelita, Esmé saw that Carmelita was shivering as she clung desperately to Nero’s backside. Esmé could hear Jerome grunting as he struggled frantically towards Briny Beach, which was far enough away from the Hotel Denouement to keep them out of danger’s waiting arms.
When they finally reached their safe place, Jerome and Nero carried Esmé and Carmelita ashore. While the women undressed, Jerome and Nero took a walk further down the beach to give Esmé and Carmelita some privacy. It was a hot day, and so their clothes dried quickly, and by the time the men returned the water in their hair and clothing had completely evaporated.
For dinner they caught fish that they cooked over a roaring fire and then went to sleep without saying much of anything. In the middle of the night Jerome awoke to find Esmé gone, and when he looked around he spotted her sitting alone at the edge of the shore, staring out at the ocean. He went over and sat beside her.
“Can’t you sleep?” he asked.
The only answer he received were the waves crashing against some nearby rocks.
“Why did you do that?” Esmé asked finally.
“Do what?”
“You know perfectly well ‘what’,” Esmé said.
“No, I don’t,” Jerome insisted. “I swear I don’t.”
“I can understand why you saved Carmelita. She’s just a little girl. But me?” Esmé turned to look at Jerome and he saw immediately why she had failed to do so before— she was crying.
He made a motion with his hand to touch her face, but she turned away before he could. “Esmé…”
“Don’t,” she said. “Please. You’ve done more than enough already. I don’t deserve your kindness…”
“What are you talking about?” Jerome asked.
Esmé didn’t seem to hear him. “I’ve come to a decision,” she went on. “Tomorrow I’m taking Carmelita and heading into the Mortmain Mountains. Supposedly, that’s where the last safe place is located. When I lost Olaf, I lost everything. The only thing I have left is Carmelita, and from what she’s told me she has no one to care for her either.” Esmé stood up and looked once more at Jerome, who was staring back at her in silent shock. “Please, Jerome. Do both of us a favor and don’t come after me.” She turned and headed back over to where Carmelita and Nero still lay sleeping by the extinguished campfire.
The following morning Jerome awoke to find a note written in the sand that he recognized as Esmé’s handwriting where a long stick had been laid next to it. The note read simply:
Promise me.
~E.S.
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The End