Spring 2022

Svarelto the Great:

I don't want do this

Why can’t we just be united again

We were once brothers

I trusted you

Why are you doing this

Please stop this

We do not need to rule the humans

We are not made for this

Asekon:

Stop with the begging

We made our choice and you just made yours

You tell us to stop

Be nice to the humans

We can live among them

No we can not!

We were made to rule them

Isn’t that we we are here for

to look after them

This is the way

What else are we supposed to do

We will take over you

The people and the land

Everything will be ours

Finally people will know our name

In history there is a period of time that is recorded as

the Middle ages or known as the dark ages. When people remember

the dark ages they will quote the textbooks, but there is

something that the textbooks forget to include. A few years

before this dark period there was a battle between two groups.

You may remember these groups as Hihoak and Nazuk shadows from

previous stories. The period between 200-300 AS (after shift) is

known by some historians as the pre dark times. This was the

time of constant war and sworo between the shadows. Many were

killed in this period and much of the land was scared from their

constant battle.

With the magic that the shadows had they were able to stop

time in most conflicts to reduce the human casualties from

neighboring lands. This epic tale will be about Svarelto the

Great of the Hihoak shadows and Asekon of the Nazuk shadows and

how this period of battle ended. Both were strong warriors and

well known amongst their groups. During this time the shadows

acted and looked differently than you know of them now. Both of

them were the chosen champions and leaders and were told to end

this fight and were friends long ago.

Svarelto the Great:

I’ve been chosen to end the Nazuk

Am i strong enough to to do so

They were once my people

There has to be another way to end this

O Fradda, give me wisdom.

Asekon:

They don’t understand what must be done

They think we are the enemy

They’re the true enemies

And they will pay for causing this

The humans must not be trusted

I am prepared to do anything for the truth

O Fradda give me strength.

What is the truth you may ask? It is said that during the

shift 27-36 DS a human came to the shadows out of the blue and

prophized to them. The man told of changes that would come to

them and the shire. Because of some incidents with the humans

some of the shadows did not like this others were willing to

take on this change. We were told to look after the humans after

all, so what were we supposed to do?

Another contributor to the dive is that the now Hihoak and

Nazuk shadows could not agree on where to settle down. Some want

to be near civilization others in the mountains, deserts,and

away from humans. It is possible that these and other quarrels

have contributed to this and have been building uf for a long

time. The Hihoak shadows settled in the thick forest of the

shire, Nazuk shadows settled in the caves eastward of the shire,

and Inksus were the shadows that still wanted to be nomads. I

have not mentioned them till now since they like to stay hidden

and are not in this tale of ours.

They were all once united but the quarreling and battling

drove them apart. Instead of saying you should have seen the

battles, I will show you them through my words. Mainly because

the battles were so violent you would not want to be there.

After every battle it looked like the heavens had unleashed

their fury. I will not describe every battle but I will show you

one of the worst that took place in the shire.

The day that this battle took place already blanketed the

land with fresh white snow. Later that day there would also be a

blizzard making things worse. The skies were dark and all you

could see was the Hihoak and Nazuk shadows emerging from the

white snow lands. Each formed a line equal to each other and

waited for someone to make a move. The only way you could tell

who was who was because the Hihoak wore cloaks and it looked

like they had no face. The Nazuk wore a mask and you knew there

was a face behind it.

All was quiet, even the animals did not make a sound for

they knew what was about to take place. The wind started to howl

like the sound of death. This day nature did not sound happy nor

make its sweet music. Even Fradda stood watching from His

heavenly gates, though He already knew the outcome. The sound of

sleeting rain broke up the sounds of death. After a couple of

minutes of silence Svarelto the Great and Asekon went up to meet

each other halfway.

Svarelto the Great:

We can in this now

Why do you insist on doing this

I don’t want to see my brothers and sisters dead

You know this won’t end good

We will cause more heartache than needed

Asekon:

We are not brothers and sisters any more

Look around we will never be united

This must be done

Obviously you don’t understand

Because of that you must die

It is the only way

Once that was over each side made their war chant. Hihoak

made a bone chilling sound on flutes that seem to echo in the

air. The Nazuk did a war chant almost like that of the maori

people. Between the flutes and chants it was enough to make any

human cower in fear. As the snow started to fall and winds got

louder Svarelto and Asekon met each other with their swords as

lightning and thunder cracked through the air. Thus began the

battle.

Lucky the Inksus knew about this battle so with their magic

to stop time, so the only thing that the humans saw was a

terrible blizzard. The storm stretched for miles, and they had

no clue of what was really going on.

Narrator:

With the wind sounding like a spirit

Thunder sounding like your death

As the lighting lit the sky

And snow the color wine

The heavens anger was unleashed

As each blade met with the brothers blade

Bodies began to fall

It was hard to see who was who

in the midst of the blizzard

With death paying the lands a visit

It was total chaos

there was not end in sight

The hate was visible in the actions

If you were there you wouldn’t think they would stop till

Asekon was wounded by Svarelto. He saw the saw the chaos they

they have created and he ordered the Hihoak to retreat with the

fallen. Asekon did the same but this was not the last battle.

In the aftermath you can see the land covered in burgundy as it

was being covered and mixed with falling snow. There were

visible scars in the land from either the shadows or the storm.

It looked like a tornado had just come through. If the shadows

are not careful then they will fall like blood covered snow.

Asekon:

Weaklings

Don’t think that this is the end

We will get stronger

And fight another day

Svarelto the Great:

This will never end

We lost so many

Maybe there's some truth in what Asekon says

There only one way to stop them

But do I even dare too...

No it has to be done

I am sorry for this

My brothers and sisters

But this it only the way

Many more battles took place and the aftermath became even

worse. Both sides wanted each other gone and Svarelto was the

only that saw both sides and did not want anyone to die. The

only way to save everyone was to sacrifice himself for the

greater good. He knew no one would fully understand but that was

ok with him.

When it was spring in the fourth month the two groups met

again after a blood bath. Svarelto told the elders that he had a

plan and Asekon knew that something was different about Svarelto

stance as they met on the battlefield.

Svarelto

Forgive me brother

I do not wish you dead

Nor alive

With that Svarelto unleashed all of his power that Fradda

gave him on to Asekon and the Nazuk shadows. The best way to

describe it will be as a whirlwind of light and dark rising

around them like that of a black hole. No one besides Asekon was

expecting it and Asekon was the only one trying to fight it off.

The only thing the humans saw was high winds and tornadoes. The

Inksus shadows knew what Svarelto was doing and they lended him

some of their power.

Asekon

I curse you all for this

Don’t think that this will be the last of us

One day we will come back

Even more powerful than before

See you again one day

Asekon finally gave in and gave a warning before departing

into the abyss of their cave and taking Svarelto's dying body

with them. This may have been a quick ending but this is only

the beginning. While the Hihoak shadows though it was over and

grieved the loss of Svarelto, Asekon revenge was already being

put into motion. There was a spy among the Hihoak shadows and

some willing human puppets were seeking a home and on their way.

Svarelto sacrifice may have helped this time but the Hihoak

shadows still need to open their eyes before it is too late.

Mara was a perfectly average young woman. She had long blonde hair, perfect emerald eyes, and a smile that would light up any officer's day. She graduated top of her class with a 100% obedience test making her quite literally the perfect woman. Never a peep, never a scowl, or a backwards attitude came from this perfect subject. This is why Mara was lucky enough to be considered for the advanced lottery. Now a year ago today, she had the privilege of being picked as the wife of the Governor of Alaric. Anastasia is the woman you don’t want to be. Her hair is short, touching her shoulders, she wears corrective contacts refusing to get surgery. She barely graduated with a 60%, the lowest in history of Dysnomia. In 2 weeks Anastasia will be put into the standard lottery. You do not want to be in the standard lottery, this is what Anastasia gets for being disobedient.

“But I do want to be Anastasia. I want to be someone that chooses their own love. The men don’t get shuffled off. You know for a fact that it isn’t a lottery, the men chose us, it’s not random.” Anastasia huffs, her mother gently sets down a cup of tea. Anastasia’s father was away, but her mother still acted as if they were being watched, Her mother begins, “My dear, of course we all know that, but isn’t it a privilege to be chosen by a man that will take care of you? I only want what’s best for you, I know Mara does as well.” Anastasia scowls at the mention of Mara’s name. They were best friends until Mara turned 16 and was shipped off to obedience training. After that, as Anastasia would say, “She became a dog when she used to be a wolf,” Anastasia’s mother taps the tip of her nose, Anastasia pulls away, “I will not marry a man.”

This was always the concern of her mother, the obvious stares, it was lustful, it was sinful. The country would never accept a woman that was rejected by the lottery. Her mother has considered advanced obedience training, the one that will always make the perfect woman, but that was expensive and money was not something they had. After all, her mother was chosen by a lower class man, why is it wrong for a mother to want a better life for her daughter, “My dear,” her mother lowers her voice, “I don’t want to call them,” Anastasia flinches, she continues, “Go visit Mara and don’t come back until you learn to be like her.” Anastasia stands up, “Then I won’t come back.” and proceeds to walk outside of her home. The world to her is bland, homes looked exactly alike, every woman looked out her husband’s window. She looks down to see a grey overall skirt and her white blouse, she looks up and sees every other woman wearing the same outfit, “Anastasia? Oh it’s so delightful to see you,” Anastasia turns arounds and in her horror finds Mara holding several groceries smiling delightfully, “you look absolutely gorgeous today, are you getting ready for your lottery?” “No,” Anastasia says roughly, “if you were still my friend you would know that.” Mara tilts her head, “Are we not friends? We were born as best friends, I simply left for training, why does that change our friendship?” “We use to be against this system! It was us against the country. Now you have a husband that works for that country.” To Anastasia, Mara betrayed her. Mara does not respond, she looks down to the ground, “Anastasia, let us go to my house. My husband is not home, and we can talk in private,” her eyes darted around, they were being watched, “alone.”

Anastasia’s heart pounds, a type of longing that you never would expect for someone that you believed you hated, she nods her head, offering to take some of Mara’s groceries. They walked down the street, the silence was unbearable. Mara smiled the whole time, after all, she was perfect. Mara’s house was a small cottage that looked the same as every other house on her street, she gently unlocked the door and set down the groceries. A small conveyor belt appears and starts to put away groceries. “Mara I-” Anastasia stops, tears drip from Mara’s face she runs to Anastasia and embraces her, tears soak her chest, “I never wanted to marry him! I didn’t want to be shipped off! All I ever wanted was you!”

“Truly?”

Mara nods her head stepping away, she taps the side of the island and a small tissue pops up, “I thought I would be able to stop the training, I thought I could break it, everything I did made me more desirable to the governor. The system doesn’t exist, I didn’t graduate with a 100%, he paid them off to make himself look better.” Anastasia had no words, every thought would bubble up and refuse to come out. The world was in front of her and she couldn’t do anything, but stare, this is when she lifted up Mara’s chin, if she couldn’t say anything, then she would take action. Mara’s lips tasted like strawberries. Their bodies seemed to meld together as if they were puzzle pieces finally coming together. The moment seemed to last forever, but time was always cruel. Mara pulls back, Anastasia takes her hand, “Mara, I love you.” Mara’s mind was running a mile a minute. Anastasia had just confessed her love to a married woman. It was such a cruel twist of fate because Mara also loved Anastasia, she went to training so her love wouldn’t have to and now they stand in her husband’s house, kiss marks stained on Anastaia’s neck. Forbidden love was something Mara always read about, something she always wanted, but now that it is here, all she can feel is a pit in her stomach, her lips trembled, an itching in her heart pulled it down, “I..love you too.”

“Then let's leave! There are other countries out there that don’t have this stupid lottery!” Anastasia shouts, Mara hesitates, her world was in front of her, but her life was behind her. All Mara ever wanted was to leave Dysnomia. She no longer wanted to be the perfect wife, she wanted love. Mara reaches slowly towards Anastasia’s hand, but the doorknob shakes. She quickly turns around being greeted with the sight of her husband unlocking the door, “Anastasia, you have to go.”

She shakes her head taking Mara’s hand, “Let’s go.” Time was ticking and it wasn’t on their side, Mara knew if Anastasia was caught she would never return to this state alive, Mara would live on, her record wiped clean to keep the governor's reputation healthy. Mara slowly touches Anastasia's cheek and gives it a slight peck, “I can’t. I would rather stay trapped in this cage, than to see you fall from yours.” The door opens, Mara walks towards her husband and greets him as she does every day, he does not say a word, his eyes fixated on Anastasia who was turned away, refusing to face him, “Good afternoon Governor Boris,” Anastasia says, “I was sent here by my mother to become like Mara.” Mara’s heartbeat was the only sound she could hear, her husband sets down his briefcase still staring at Anastasia, a tiny bit of blood enters Mara’s mouth from biting her lip too hard, “Please, please don’t jump. You can’t fly yet.” Mara thinks to herself,

Anastasia begins to walk towards the door, then the governor finally speaks, “Good luck on your lottery. I believe you have a chance to get a wonderful man.” Anastasia finally turns around, meeting his eyes, if Mara had long nails, her hands would

be covered in blood by now. Anastasia smiles, “Thank you sir.” and leaves, “Mara, my dear.” her husband says, Her heart skips a beat, “Yes my love?”

“Can you make a pufferfish dish tonight?”

A deep breath, “Of course my love.” She begins to pick ingredients from a cabinet, “Oh, and Mara?” she turns towards him, “call the Rebellious Training Regime. I want to report Anastasia, she will not make Alaric look good to the higher ups.”

Mara smiles with no hesitation, “I was waiting for you to say something my love. I’ll do so right after I finish cooking dinner.”

She picks up a knife with no hesitation, “You truly are the perfect wife, ratting out even your closest friend. This is why I chose you.”

She kisses him on the cheek with no hesitation, “And you are the perfect husband, how could I not do what you want?”

He laughs and reaches for his daily newspaper, beginning to read as he always does, “Did you know my brother was killed the other day, the regime is scrambling to find a replacement for his state, wonder what happened.”

Mara slams the knife down on his head with no hesitation,“Yes,” she says, covered in his blood, “I wonder what happened.”

Long ago there was a god named Genitor, and with a sneeze, he created the universe named Rerum. With seven strands of his hair, he created his daughters, and with his tears, he created the Gods. The universe was at peace. Phoebe, the eldest daughter of Genitor was worried about her father becoming bored with this universe and with a deep breath created humans and another species called the Crystillians. Genitor became obsessed with the Crystillians and gifted Phoebe with the ability to turn human. The other daughters were jealous of Phoebe and decided to poison Genitor. When he becomes sick, he promises Phoebe that she’ll live a happy life and creates the first Soulmate. A year later, Genitor dies, with his final breath he creates 6 new species. A young goddess named Cybele becomes the Mother Goddess and watches over Rerum. Two Gods begin arguing over Light and Darkness. Cybele splits its powers in half creating The Daughter full of Light, and The Son full of Darkness. The Son becomes obsessed with his power and he creates something terrible: War. He massacres every species, so The Daughter creates an energy of pure light and gifts it to Phoebe, she takes the light and banishes him into The Abyss. This is the creation of the first Pure Light. Phoebe, completely exhausted from her duties, came to her Soulmate. 

This was me, and I was 12 when I realized Gods don’t care about how you feel. She was my love; she was my everything. They took her from me to fulfill their own Gods needs, humans took my Soulmate. She lived in my village, every Sunday, she visited me, mother never let me leave the house. It was too dangerous, now I understand why. It was the humans. I knew my village wasn’t normal. Feathers laid around covering the dirt roads, there were never any horses, no carts, only children walked. I remember sitting on my bed reading stories about humans, I didn’t understand why I was different. They begged the Gods for magic, I could light my candles with my fingers. I was the Gods favorite creation, I was the gift for the daughter of Uranus, my Soulmate. In her human form, she was Phoebe. The most beautiful person in the world has seen. This beauty came with a price, the humans saw her beauty and wanted it for their own god. The anger, the actions I took were only what they deserved. I remember that day, as I forget my own mother’s face, as I forget my childhood, this day will be burned forever. I stood outside screaming for Phoebe to come back. My throat burned; rain poured coaxing me in despair. That’s when it happened, the world froze. A God of Darkness stood before me, offering his hand, “I can bring your love back,” he smirked, “for a price.” 

The price was to bring him 4 objects, a bird mask, roses, the royal crown from the man who wanted my love, and a stick. Using those objects, he created The Black Plague and killed 25 million people. Including my love, Phoebe. She fell before me and died in my arms. Black goop drips onto her body, a taste so pungent comes flowing out of my mouth. He appears, offering a hand once again and now, 627 years later, I am home. Yisrael, the God of Darkness, and Yanamarie, the Chosen Love. We work together to create a perfect replication of human DNA. So that they can destroy humanity, just like they destroyed mine. 

Today is September 1st, 2019, the 627 anniversary of Phoebe dying because of me. I clutch my journal which is stained with tears, but today I turn to the mirror and all I see are the shards of a broken woman. I ignore the boiling sensation inside my heart, putting on my lab coat, “Good morning Yanamarie,” Vastus the man who hates me, “I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.” “Well thank the Gods,” I tell him, “I thought I’d be stuck with the lousy scientist forever.” He sneers at me, moving closer, I move away. A rabbit versus a snake, and unfortunately, I am the rabbit. 

The snake hisses, “I am tired of the variable destroying our work,” the variable, Gods new favorite toy, “So I found some information about them.” 

He hands me a small piece of notebook paper; the writing informs me of a young woman who was chosen as the new Gods protector. The only other information is that she likes to be called, ‘Princess.’ I frown, egotistical was a better name. Pocketing the paper into my journal, I feel a sudden chill crawling up my spine. Turning towards the stairway I see Yisrael holding a plate of food, and a smirk, “Yanamarie darling, I have a task for you,” Slowly he walks towards me, “take this food down to prisoner #132, and then you are free for the rest of the day.” 

I nod, taking the plate, being careful not to touch his darkness. He disappears in a flash, but I can still feel his presence watching me. Down the spiral I go, hearing the moans of humans, animals, and aliens alike. All prisoners of Vastus’ sick experiments. 130, 131, I pause. The tray tumbles down the spiral, strawberries splatter the floor coaxing it with the color of blood. The prisoner stares up at me in shock, I avert their gaze staring at my shoes which are now covered in blood. I tumble backward, coming now, face to face with them. My hand shakily touches the glass, their palm does the same. Phoebe, my love, my soulmate sat in front of me. Trapped behind this glass wall and was Prisoner #132.

Without even a thought I bolt away, climbing up the stairs, never looking back. Vastus attempts to ask me a question, but I can’t hear him. Laughing, the smell of blood, it was all rushing back to me. The memories that have laid dormant for 627 years are coming back, “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to do this, I didn’t mean to kill her.” 

3 days pass of masking. Pretending the past didn’t haunt me, but I knew damn well that it did. They always say curiosity killed the cat; I clutch my journal sighing. Vastus pushes a tray towards me asking if I can take it to 132. Whether it’s out of fear or curiosity, I accept. Once again trailing down the stairway, I pause before her stall. She stares at me and moves her hands in a nonsensical way, “I don’t understand,” her face droops, “wait, are you using sign language?” she smiles slightly and nods, “I don’t, I don’t know how to understand that,” I push the tray of food towards her and my journal as well, “Please, write down your name.” 

She looks down at the journal, slightly confused. Picking up the pen, she scribbles a couple of words across the paper then slides it back. In the messy handwriting, I read it, then I stare at her. She turns her right hand into a fist and extends her index and middle finger upwards. She gently glides her hand to the other side of her shoulder, then back to her other side. She finishes by moving her fist to her right-side hip, “Princess.” 

My stomach drops as I realize who she is, this woman is the reason we never get anything done. Every time Yisrael kills a person that looks exactly like my love the world resets 18 years. She is the variable. I quickly pick up my journal, she tries to reach for me through the glass, I look back just for a moment, but then carry on. I open my journal, finding that I’m unable to understand what Princess wrote, “Tu..sunt..bellus?”

“Never say that to me again.” Vastus sneers. 

I look up in shock, “You understood me? Prin- Prisoner 132 wrote that in my journal along with something else.” 

Vastus snatches away my journal, reading the two sentences she wrote, “She said you are cute and wanted to know your name,” I feel my cheeks become prickly and hot, I’ve longed for Phoebe to call me that for ages, “It’s in Latin, looks like she’s a Crystillian the Gods Chosen species." He hands me the journal and returns to his work. With Vastus distracted I grabbed a book on sign language and ran to my room. 

At night, I peek out my door, the lab was completely dark. I hold the book in my hand and run down to the containment cells. Princess sat in a corner wrapping herself in the tiny blanket that was provided. I open the door and sit 6 feet in front of her. She stares at me with that same look of confusion. I lift my hand, open the book, and tell her my name, “Y-A-N-A-M-A-R-I-E” every time I signed her eyes watered a little more, and her face contained more joy. Princess raises her hand to her chin and then lowers it towards me, 

“Thank you.” 

Every night after I came to visit her, she would ask me questions about the outside world, and I would ask her about her home. Then it became more about each other, today I walk down, and she sits there in her corner waiting. I sit down and she points at my skin, then circles around her eye, “I have vitiligo,” I say touching one of the patches, “It’s the reason half of my hair is blonde. There’s not enough pigment in my skin,” She reaches for my silk nightcap, and lifts it up slightly looking at my hair, “Everyone thinks I dye it, but honestly it's easier to manage than a bleach job.”

She laughs slightly then points to her left eye, she takes my journal and writes messily, “Not a contact.” 

“That’s amazing!” I shout, “I’ve never seen someone with heterochromia, is it normal to have purple eyes in Crystillia?”

She smiles and nods, Princess reaches over towards my hand, I flinch slightly but realize she’s reaching for my journal. Flustered I look away as she writes, she sets the notebook down, in perfect English she wrote, “Don’t focus on the past and move forward.” 

I freeze, “Phoebe?” She shakes her head and points to a word lower on the page. 

“Novus.” I close the journal refusing to look at her real name, I stand up in a rush pushing her back into the corner. My silk cap tears in between the doors as I shut it, “Your name is Phoebe. You are Phoebe!” I cover my ears as she begins to pound on the glass wall attempting to get my attention. All I could feel was the cold darkness, “Darling,” I look up in fear as Yisrael stands before me, “I have a test for you,” He points towards Princess with a smirk, “kill her.” 

A shooting pain scrapes my knees, “No! No, I won’t! I can’t do it again!” But I don’t have a choice. My vision fogs, thick water-like substance seeps out my nose. Then, I feel nothing. 

My eyes open in my bedroom. My knees didn’t hurt, and my silk nightcap was still on my head. The blanket flips with me, my legs kick up and I walk outside of my room, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.”

“Vastus,” he turns to me, a look of disgust fills his face, “what day is it?” “Obviously, it’s time for you to wake up! It’s September 1st! Get ready Yisrael wants you to feed the prisoners.” 

“No.” Vastus stares at me, I turn away and slowly walk back into my room. He begins to scream, the door locks. He bangs on the door, sliding down all I can feel is the tears flowing down my face. 

Two days later, I still haven’t left my room. Vastus has offered work, food, anything to make me come out. I’ve refused them all and stayed right against the door. Princess, the woman who looks exactly like my soulmate, is this story's chosen one. I killed her against my will, and the days instead of completely resetting start back on the 627th anniversary of Phoebe’s death. I spent weeks getting close with this woman, only for Yisrael to kill her using my body. I can’t just walk out and let myself be used again. I feel my body chill, the door opens, and I fall. A petticoat covers my head, a girl gasps and backs up, but stops. My eyes glance up, Yisrael holds Princess by her arm, “Yanamarie, darling. Vastus says you won’t leave your room. So, I brought you motivation.” 

He throws her down to the ground, her hair becomes loose and a crown tumbles to the floor. She quickly grabs it and cuddles it to her chest, “Princess?” She looks up in shock, “I’m the crowned princess, yes.” 

“You don’t, remember me?” She shakes her head, my heart sinks. I turn to Yisrael, “She is the variable. She is The Gods Chosen.” 

Princess begins to pull away, “No! No, I’m not!”

Yisrael tightens his grip, pulling her off the ground towards him, “That’s why you were being crowned when I snatched you. Well, I killed all your little friends, so you’ve already lost,” She slumps at this, no longer resisting. Instead, she looks at the floor completely destroyed by despair, “The chosen will be staying with you Yanamarie.” 

“What?” I say, “she’s a prisoner.” I don’t want her near me, I don’t want to see her again.” 

“She is a gift,” Yisrael says, turning away. 

I go to touch her shoulder, but she pushes me away with her gloves and walks into my room slamming the door. Vastus chuckles, “Yeah good luck with that ‘gift’ more trouble than she’s worth.” 

Ignoring his comment, I turn the doorknob to find Princess sitting in my bed, arms crossed, “Princess-” 

She grits her teeth, “Novus. I won’t let someone that almost got me murdered call me that.” 

I snap back, “Princess.” I reach into my clothes drawer and throw a hoodie and leggings at her, “Change out of that ridiculous outfit.” I’m lying, she looks hot in that outfit, but at the moment I’m still mad at her. 

The complaining begins, “This is commoner's clothing.”

“I’m a commoner by your standards Princess,” I say, 

She snarls, “Are you going to leave? I want my privacy.” 

“Just go into my bathroom.” I point to a small door, she grimaces walking into the room, then she shrieks.

I quickly rush in to find her sobbing on the floor, “This room is so disgusting! I think I saw a mouse!” 

“Stop it! You’re making my life miserable and now you’re complaining about how I live!” I scream, 

Her attitude changes, her face goes blank, “It’s only what you deserve.” She shuts the door, leaving me alone. Exhausted, I lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. “It’s only what you deserve.” swells in my head, I remember clearly telling the man that took my love those exact words. 

I clutch my hands to my chest, “But no one deserves death,” I whisper. The door opens and Princess walks out, I stare at her, “why are you still wearing your gloves?” “As a crowned princess, I cannot touch anyone's skin in case they may be my Soulmate.” 

I laugh, “That’s kinda dumb. Why wouldn’t you want to find your Soulmate?” Her face turns red, “W...Well because my mother says it causes you to feel lustful things.” 

“You don’t. All that happens is your eyes glow and you feel the emotion correlated to that color.” I lightly touch my hands together mimicking holding hands. “You know your Soulmate?” 

My heart sinks, my fingers tighten, “Yes.” 

Princess sits next to me, “What color were you? Did you love them?” Our eyes meet, “Why are you talking in the past tense. She isn’t,” I pause, “who are you.” 

She deadpans, “Novus.”

I shake my head, “No, no you’re not. Why do you look like my love, I don’t understand?” Tears begin to pour down, her hand touches my arm, “I’m not Phoebe. I’m Novus.” 

I push her away, “No you’re not! You’re Phoebe!” 

She stands up, taking both of my hands in hers, our eyes meet once again, and all I could see was my love. No one else could replace her, no one else will, “Yana, my name is Novus Hope, I’m 18 years old today, and I am not Phoebe!” 

I tear my hands away, she falls back right into Yisrael’s sword, I fall to the ground screaming as Yisrael sternly says, “Don’t make me come down here hearing screams again.” 

- 

Today is September, 1st 2019. It is the third time I was woken up to this day because of one girl. I clutch my silk bonnet slowly taking it off, slowly I walk into my bathroom and stare at myself, “Is it even worth it to take a shower?” I wonder, I gently touch the mirror and a cool feeling wraps around my fingers. I trace around my face, attempting to smile, but all I can see is Princess. I sigh slightly, finally changing into a proper lab uniform. I turn towards the mirror one more time, before walking out to Vastus, 

“Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know-” he pauses, his tongue flicks out, he glides it across his lips and smiles, “well maybe not.” “I would rather not work with the variable,” I say sitting down pulling out a small textbook, “I have my own curiosities that need to be satisfied.” 

Vastus slithers behind me peering over my shoulder with his snake eyes, “Alternative realities research? What has pulled you to this topic?”

He rests his hand on my shoulder, I forcibly pull away, “That’s none of your concern, you’ll just babble to Yisrael anyway.” 

His laugh pierces my ears, “Well it’s interesting because Yisrael's new pet was telling him about alternative realities just a couple of hours ago.” 

I pause, hoping to shove my curiosity down somewhere it will never appear again, but the urge only becomes stronger. I close the book and turn towards the snake, “Pet?” 

The smile turns sinister, gliding across his face, “Go upstairs and find out for yourself.” 

My breath stops for a moment, I feel like a rabbit caught in the snakes game, running for my life, but I know I won’t get far, “Fine. Don’t tell me.” I stand up closing the book, the walk upstairs is precisely 246 steps, but it feels like more. The baring weight of darkness sits on my shoulders. The door to Yisraels room opens, but I freeze in horror. 

Yisrael sleeps, his dark form needs to replenish. Princess laid on the floor chained to a chair struggling to break the chains, blood dripped all along her body, I quickly put on plastic gloves not wanting to touch the wounds directly. She turns her head towards me and gasps, shaking her head, “No, please not now, I’m not ready.” 

“Please let me help you,” I can’t see her die again, “you don’t deserve this.” she’s too beautiful to die, 

Princess shakes her head and backs away hitting the chair, she grabs a wound that has reopened on her side, “You don’t understand, now that I’ve met you I’m going to die!”

The chains shake, she falls to the ground sobbing, I lay next to her and gently place her head on my knees, “Let me help you.” I shouldn’t do this. Her eyes slowly trail up my body, she stops when we finally, truly, meet each other, “It’s already too late for me,” she laughs a little, her shoulder bouncing up and down, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

I ponder for a moment and then nod, “Do you?” 

She smiles, “I’m looking at her,” I can feel a heat coming from my cheeks, her color is fading “I was always told what my fate would be, no one told me an angel would be here for when I die.” 

Her voice was becoming raspy, her breathing was light, I wiped away one of her tears and whispered, “I am no angel.”

Princess gently touches my lab coat pulling it down just enough my real clothes show through, “You are to me.” 

The coat pulled back up, her eyes closed and never opened again. - 

This was the worst death so far, she never even told me her name, Princess just died and in her last moments she clinged to me. The chosen is mortal too, she has a right to be afraid of death. I pull myself up, put on a lab coat once again and walk outside, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.” 

I refuse to even look up, sitting down I begin my research, she dies before I finish page one. 

I wake up,

I wake up, 

I wake up, 

50, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.” 

103, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.” 

200, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me.” 

I’ve lost count, why can’t she just stay dead. I hate hearing her name, it’s Phoebe, she has to be. 

“Yanamarie get out of bed, you have a new co-worker.” I lift my pillow slightly up just briefly being able to make eye contact with the snake, 

“You didn’t say your normal line.” 

He tilts his head, “What the hell are you talking about, get dressed.” “I thought it was funny Vastus, do you normally say the same thing to her in the morning?” and there she is, once again working for Vastus, 

“No. I barely talk to her, she’s terrible.” 

Princess laughs, I hear her shoes clacking on my marble floor, my pillow floats up and I am greeted by her face, “Well I think she’s cute.” 

I push my blanket away and start getting dressed, “You can think whatever you want. It doesn’t change my mind.” 

I peer over after pulling a shirt over my head, she smiles, setting down my pillow, “Well, it’s still a pleasure to meet you. My name is-”

I cut her off “I know your name.” 

She quickly counters, “Then say it. Say my name Yanamarie.” 

Our eyes meet, “No.” 

The days quit repeating, Yisrael likes this version of Princess, anytime she does something wrong he only scolds her. This Princess is very touchy, always playing with my clothes, always messing up my experiments so I’ll give her attention, but I don’t want to, I don’t want to see her die, “Yana, stop writing in your journal I’m lonely.” she groans, 

“If you’re lonely talk to Vastus, I heard snakes like to talk to each other.” Princess frowns, “That’s not fair, I see myself as a fox, they symbolize balance and peace.” 

I set down my book, finally looking in her eyes, “You are currently giving me neither of those.” 

She leans forward inching closer to my face, “Aw c’mon, you think I’m pretty don’t you?” 

I mumble, “I don’t think I should answer that.” 

“I think you’re beautiful,” she whispers in my ear, the feeling of heat rushes to my cheeks just the same as any other time she compliments me. She places her hand gently on my chest, I flinch and look over at Vastus who is diligently working, “don’t worry he won’t pay any attention to us.” 

Princess begins to lean in, I lean back, but she continues to come closer to my face, quickly I grab my journal and hear a smooching noise. I drop the journal from my hands screaming, “Stop! Stop it Novus! I get it! You’re not Phoebe! You’re not Phoebe and you never will be!”

Everything stops, Novus is gone, I stare down at my notebook floating mid air, I stand up walking over to Vastus, frozen in place. Slowly I move upstairs into Yisrael’s room, Novus stands in front of his bed wearing just a hoodie and some leggings, “It took you long enough,” She turns around to face me and smiles, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Novus.”

“I..I don’t understand. Who are you?” 

She slightly taps her lips, “Well, to the world I’m simply just a mortal girl. To Yisrael I am one of the seven Pure Lights. A being gifted by the Gods with an immense amount of Light. In the hopes to stop darkness from spreading.” 

I shake my head, “What does that have to do with me? I’m a bad guy trying to spread the darkness. I’ve killed people for him.” 

“On your own will?” 

I open my mouth, then pause to think, “No.” 

“We need you to join us. Yisrael won’t stand a chance with you on our side.” I shake my head, “I can’t he would kill me.”

She laughs slightly, “Well surely it can’t be as bad as all the times I died.” I gasp, “Wait, do you remember everything?”

Novus nods her head, “Yes, but it’s only because my one duty is to bring you out of your grief.” 

I feel hysterical, I start laughing to myself “But, why? I thought my only role was to be the pretty girl for a god.”

Novus walks up to me, this time I don’t back away, “No, you’re so much more than that. I had to convince you Phoebe was no longer here, because the next Novus you meet will look the same as me.” 

“I don’t understand, you won’t remember?” I say, 

She nods her head, “246 times you’ve killed me, every single one had to learn her role and prepare for this moment. When I die, the new Novus will be taught her role with Gods guidance.” 

I clutch my chest, fear filling it, “But I’ve done what the Gods wanted! I understand you’re not Phoebe! You don’t have to die!” 

She looks away, refusing to meet my eyes, “You know I will, that’s why you have to stop this. Stop Yisrael, stop focusing on the past and move forward.” I look down now, “It’s not as simple as you’re making it seem.” 

“I never said it was. Which is why my friends and I will help you through this,” tears begin to pour out of my eyes, salt fills my mouth as they drip down my chin, “Yana, do you believe in love at first sight?” 

“You know I do.” I barely choke out, 

Novus gently touches my sleeves, our eyes meet, tears stain her cheeks too, “Just because I’m not Phoebe, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” 

My lips quiver, we both move closer to each other, her arms begin to wrap around me, but it was too late. I look up and Yisrael is awake, a sword appears in his hand. I tried to move Novus out of the way, but the sword was already through her. Yisrael disappears, Novus grabs my arm pulling me down with her. Our eyes glow a bright blue, the fear is replaced with a tranquil sense. She covers her mouth to hide the

blood, but I grab her other hand, “Novus, you’re my Soulmate! Please! I can’t lose another one!” 

She tightens her hand around mine, raising the other to my cheek to wipe away my tears, “Now we know, for next time,” she curls up in my lap, still holding on tightly to my hand, “Please, don’t let go. I don’t want this calming feeling to go away. I don’t want to be afraid when I’m next to you.” 

“I won’t! I won’t let go!” 

She smiles at me, “You’ll do great things, love.” 

Her grip slowly loosens, her eyes close for a final time, and the blue light in our eyes fade away. A dark presence appears behind me, “This will be problematic with the variable as your Soulmate,” I tighten my grip on Novus’ cold hand, “time is about to reset, please make sure to remind me of this shocking discovery when you wake up.” 

I grit my teeth, and turn around facing Yisrael, finally seeing him for the monster he is, “why?” I mumble, his darkness tilts slightly, “Why do you take everything that I love away from me?!” 

A bright flash pushes me away, Yisrael hisses and retreats into the shadows, “You dare defy me?” 

“Yes!” I shout standing up, “I’m tired of being your flesh puppet! I’m no longer under your control!” 

“No!” He growls, darkness surrounds me, encases me, my neck burns, “you will never leave.” 

I grab my neck closes my eyes, and then the pain stops 

-

I quickly open my eyes and look at the calendar, September 1st 2019. Yisrael appears in a flash, “You have a mark of a banished, is there anything you need to tell me about the last reset?” 

I open my mouth, my body resisting my mind, I’m about to tell him about Novus, my whole body shakes, I bite my lip as hard as possible, and shake my head. He laughs and leaves my room, I fall to the ground sobbing, “Novus is my Soulmate.” I whisper, unable to resist anymore, but he is already long gone. I lay on the floor for what seemed to be forever, I glance up noticing my rabbit mask, I bite my lip, and stand up, “Come here!” I shout, 

Yisrael appears in a flash, “I’m busy, what do you want?” 

“I’ll get the crown for you.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“The Crystillian Crown. It has an amazing power that Novus will be using to try and defeat you. I can get it, I know where it is.” 

“If you get this for me, I get rid of the mark.” 

“I..I know that, but it will still make you happy right?” 

Silence, the darkness ponders, “Yes, it would, but I’ll be watching you once you arrive at the castle.” 

“Of course, I understand.” In a flash he is gone again, I quickly turn towards the rabbit mask putting it on to hopefully conceal my identity and rush outside, “Good morning Yanamarie, I’m sure you will be pleased to know today you will not be working with me,” I run past him, he hisses, “where are you going.”

“I’m leaving.” I close my eyes, the world around me warps, I open my eyes and find myself standing before the Crystillian Castle. I see her in front of a window, Novus stands next to one of our agents, she falls he catches her, their eyes glow, another Soulmate. I shake my head trying to forget the truth, taking a deep breath I walk forward towards the castle, knowing that this time, I’m finally going to stop Yisrael and bring peace to the universe.

(Spring 2022 Bruce C. Souders Contest Winner)

Autumn had arrived, and a young woman named Annalise was excited to see the leaves forgo their summer gradient and welcome the warm hues she had come to adore. For the past five years, the change of the seasons had never failed to impress Anna. It kept her grounded during her stressful workdays as a distinguished author.

Anna’s home within upstate New York’s mysterious woodlands proved to be an upgrade from the apartment she shared with her childhood friends in the Big Apple. It was an excellent investment with enough natural wonders outside the front door to scare away writer’s block.

But one morning, Anna found herself preoccupied with the view outside of her kitchen window as she prepared to bake a pie. There was something significantly different about the setting she had grown accustomed to. The luxurious orange and yellow leaves were suddenly riddled with brown and black spots, and the trees were ashen.

This unfortunate scene is what led Anna to take a short stroll through the woods after placing her dessert in the oven. She hastily threw on her peacoat and drew it close as a bitter wind nipped at her nose as she stepped outside. Simultaneously, the caw of the motion-activated, robotic crow she had placed by the door startled her.

It was far too early for winter to start its antics, but Anna checked her smartwatch to ensure the weather forecast confirmed her fears. Alas, the pleasant temperature was expected to drop by twenty degrees within two days.

Anna decided to continue her trek, finding herself frowning as she noticed that the air itself was amiss. Instead of its usual crisp qualities, the air contained tangible dread and a hint of electricity.

A vast array of explanations for the autumn’s disciplinary issues pushed their way into Anna’s train of thought. Global warming was her first culprit, and Anna became confident in her reasoning until she realized how off-kilter she had been lately. It was as if she was in tune with the environment’s despair. 

Unfortunately, she did not have much time to ponder this connection. A small hiccup from behind a pile of wood had caught her attention. 

Anna had only walked 600 feet away from the clearing where her home resided. Had a crazy fan finally figured out her home address? 

Slowly but surely, Anna picked up a stick by her feet before walking towards the logs. Anna’s fear of a stalker transformed into another fear entirely. 

What if someone was preparing her demise from afar?

She focused on her beating heart and the sharp taste of iron as she bit her lip in anticipation, drawing blood. Anna let the strength of her most powerful fictional characters flow through her body before treading around the woodpile. 

“Go aw-” Anna began to shout, but she found herself unable to continue as the scene unfolded before her.

There was no crazed fan to shoo away or monster to duel. Instead, a very handsome man was curled up amongst the leaves. Anna took notice of his tattered linen clothing and the brambles scattered throughout his curly hair.  The man was clearly lost and in need of medical attention.

As he looked up from his hiding spot, the man immediately began to tremble with unease. 

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry! Um, how do I go about this?” Anna tried to reason aloud.

She quickly moved to the stranger’s side to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and she gave him time to stand as she promised to tend to his needs.

They slowly started to walk back to the house with her arm around his shoulders. His skin was practically frozen beneath the light clothing, and he was as white as a ghost. His icy blue eyes were the only lively things about him.

Anna yearned to ask questions, but she decided it would be better to offer sincerity instead of hostility. She did manage to ask for the man’s name, and she was rewarded with the gruff response of “Leven.” It was a delicate name, and “delicate” was the only word she could think of to describe him. He was far too beautiful to look so damaged.

As they gradually approached the front door, Anna gave her new acquaintance a moment to recuperate. She kept her eyes peeled for any other unwanted visitors, but she only caught sight of a small crack making its way through the brick of her home.

There is no way she did not notice the crack before, but Anna took it as ignorance on her part. She was probably too caught up in the spirit of the fall season to notice such a small thing.

Leven eventually voiced his approval to move forward, and the duo made their way inside. The robotic crow’s caw sounded off its alarm once again, but its pitch had drastically decreased.

It took three hours to ensure Leven was clean and well-fed. Anna had drawn him a warm bath, offered him her brother’s clothes from the guest room, and gave him a slice of freshly made pumpkin pie. She also urged Leven to settle by the fire so he would stop shivering. 

The man was practically glowing after being pampered, and Anna allowed herself to sigh in relief. Yet, she did not feel relieved by any means. 

The day’s events had filled her trepidation. Her house and the surrounding woods were growing increasingly foreboding. Despite all of the trouble she had been through, nothing was resolved. 

Some part of Anna wished Leven would have an answer for everything.

Two days after Leven’s unexplainable appearance, the freezing temperatures had finally settled in. Anna had spent the time watching Netflix with her houseguest while pressuring him to elaborate on any detail he could offer, but his condition was getting worse. Leven would simply stare at Anna in reply to her questions, and he watched her gaze out the windows in anguish. 

The scenery had dramatically shifted in just a couple of days. Everything was covered with a sheen of gray or black, and not even the sun dared to break through the dreary atmosphere. Anna wished she could blame it on something rational like falling ash from a volcanic eruption.

Leven seemed unbothered by what occurred outside, and the local weather channels had nothing to report as well. Anna was at a loss. She felt like she was losing her sanity by the minute.

Anna began to question her mental health after she had witnessed another inane incident from the day before. As she walked past the guest bedroom in the morning, she opened the door to check if her guest was still well. She was greeted by the sight of Leven sitting upright in bed with a ball of light hovering between his hands as he maneuvered it through the air. Was Anna conjuring up visions from her books and applying them to real life? At that point, she felt crazy enough to do so.

Anna was going to ask Leven about this incident on the third day of his stay, but he interrupted the question with a new line of conversation. Leven was interested in taking a walk outside so that he could figure out how to get home. Anna didn’t have the willpower to refuse the request, so she made sure that both she and Leven were bundled up before their walk.

Anna swallowed down the impending sense of doom as they shuffled past the crow who no longer bothered to caw at their presence at the door. The batteries were only a week old, but she hoped the crow had stopped due to a mechanical issue rather than a malevolent one. 

Leven followed the path that Anna had led them through just two days prior, and she watched him inhale the air that increasingly appeared to be riddled with filth. All of the trees looked as if they would crumble to dust with the simple touch of a finger. 

No one in their right mind would’ve agreed to step outside that day, but Anna subconsciously knew that she had no choice.

She wordlessly followed her guest, and she even allowed the crow’s feet by his magnificent blue eyes to offer her false hope and chase away any irrational fears. She didn’t even bother to look behind her as she thought she heard her house start to crumble. Anna had a feeling that she would make sense of all of her manifestations soon enough.

Surprisingly, Leven had ended their search for his home much quicker than anticipated. Anna knew she should have taken his health into account. The walk must have been too much for him to handle. Plus, their breaths were becoming more visible with each step into the woodland due to the extreme cold. But these feasible explanations were rendered false as Anna took in her surroundings.

They had stopped by a woodpile. It was the same woodpile that Leven was hidden behind 48 hours ago, but it had not turned gray like its surroundings. It looked as if the logs were freshly cut.

Suddenly, Leven turned to stand before Anna and held her shaky hands. His skin was soft and warm against her chilled palms, and she allowed him to step closer to absorb more of his body heat. Yet, she knew she was not absorbing anything whatsoever. Quite the opposite actually.

As Leven held her, Anna could see him grow and flourish before her eyes as she began to waste away in turn. Even the plant life around them was losing its sickly pallor and returning to their rich autumnal state as Anna faded to gray.

It was then that Anna gained clarity.

She distinctly remembered that her realtor warned her that her house went up for sale every five years without fail, but she was too in love with the estate to care. Anna didn’t even bother to listen as she was told that the previous residents have all gone missing. As a result, she had to endure the fate placed upon her as soon as she moved in. 

Leven was keeping the environment and himself alive by using the homeowners’ life essences as his source of vitality. He served as the guardian that preserved the property for all time.

Leven gently set Anna on the ground and took a step back to admire the new view. His glory was restored once again, and he could feel his fairy brethren’s approval.

Yes, he was a mythical creature. Anna was far from insane when she saw him wielding a ball of light. In fact, Leven wanted her to see it. She was a special girl, after all. 

After taking some time to enjoy another job well done, Leven turned back, and Anna started to rapidly decay. Her skin, blood, and bones all melted into the earth until they became one. The only thing she was allowed to remember in the afterlife was a pair of icy blue eyes.

“The fairies thank you for your contribution, dear Anna. I’ll come to visit when the time is nigh.” Leven says as he walks towards the beautifully repaired house that Anna thought had crumbled.

The last evidence of the many human souls is all around me, in walls of neatly placed bones. Gruesome, but in a way some would call beautiful. I think death is behind me. In every chilled gust of the air I can feel it, climbing up my spine. Slowly it begins to taunt me and wraps its long bony figures around my arm. I don’t remember this feeling ever. It’s new. It pulls, and I think about running, but I can’t. I won’t. 

I need something, I need something, and I will not stop until I get it. And maybe my flesh will die before I get there myself. The way the wooden doors creek as my hand presses against them, tells me I am truly alone in this empty hollow. My breath catches in eye sockets and mouths, and is echoed back down the hall, and I feel the need to look back at the entrance. In the sunlight. Every step I take, my foot ends up on top of gray dust, mud once, but now dried out. Now I am sure I am approaching the underground. I breathe in, and I know I am slowly descending. Whether or not madness is the question. With every step, the word “no” presses to the concave inner walls of my mind, yet with every breath my heart beats to a steady yes. I want to know, and at the same time I become more exhausted in guilt and weight with every stride.  There is writing on some of the walls, things like “he was good” or “RIP”, someone chose to just write “HELL” in big red letters. It would seem so if you weren’t totally comfortable with the idea of dying yet, of being somewhere other than earth. My answers. 

I remember now. I remember the red light turning to gold as I first came out. I can’t help but think I remember this. This hall, these bones, the way the stones turn this way and that, it seems never ending and ever-going. It seems like you are both lost and at the same time completely aware of your place. Like the walls guide you far away, over and out, but still the last place you were is right back around.

Here it is, the door. It is in the middle of a wall of brick, clearly built around it after the eighteenth century. Obviously to keep something out. I remove the rusted gold of the lock, but it still won’t open. Can I break it? Should I? No, instead I clean around the bottom of it and begin to slowly pull on the side with less termite holes. Little poppy blossoms at my feet, and as I pull on the door, the weeds blow in the cold air that rushes and brushes them all in fingerprints, dancing around my neck. The door is wide open now, and the slope as uninviting as usual, my body feels heavy as I begin down the old stone steps. The walls are ancient, moss-ridden, arches of stones, cold on my hand, as I try to keep my balance. There is no rail. There never was? Once I have been walking on the steps for about a mile the stone walls begin to crumble. I go a little farther, until my hand falls into the wall. Here, full stones are becoming loose. I look down the stairs and see that pieces are almost falling, but frozen in black, frozen in time. 

Then the wall becomes a cave, and I am walking under rocks, unable to see in the dark. I miss the comforting feeling of the stone by the time it fully disappears. I could go back, but I won’t. I walked three more miles and now I feel my back sweating. My ears ring with the sound of running water, and I start to see flashes in my visions. The faces are not ones I remember, but that look. I remember that look. It is not joy, it is terror. It is not understanding, it is loathing. I could go back now. No, I remember this land. I remember the people coming in and out. I remember myself, coming in, and I need to understand why. After two more flights of stairs in the soulless black, I start to hear voices. Deep and guttural, some tearing screams, and a small high-pitched cry. I could go back now. I need to go back now! Up to the sun. But what was left for me there? I had a second chance with all the answers, I was ready to fulfill, but did it fulfill me? I thought it would make me better. Make me human. Oh, how I wished for a different life all the time. And now—

Why am I still standing on the step I was an hour ago? The feet that stretch confidently through soil so many times, my adventurous mind leading them, down this path. The no longer move them. Why? Suddenly I’m furious. Why me? I don’t need to be here, I just wanted to know what was behind the door. But maybe I don’t need to. I thought I was ready, but now I am running up the stairs. There is no light, there is nothing. But I am running. I am running and running and running. I am running until time runs out…

The voices never stop,

the sound of life,

The anticipation of death. 

Chapter 1: Velma Reed

Velma Reed had always been somewhat of a bookworm. At 10 years of age, she tragically lost her mother Marie in a plane crash headed to London. Her mother was an author, and often received her best inspiration while visiting quaint cafes around the city. Marie always used to tell Velma that the best stories come about while sitting in a warm café, listening to rain patter against the old, warped windows. Growing up in Seattle, Velma hated the seemingly endless stream of rain. However, her opinions changed after her mother’s passing. Velma now looks forward to cozying up next to her bedroom window with a book; listening to the pitter-patter of the rain on the windows and thinking of what stories her mother would’ve wrote if she was here with her. 

Velma grew very close to her father James after Marie’s passing. James was a tall, thin shoe cobbler from the countryside of England. Years ago, James had stopped by a local café in London to grab a coffee before work. He noticed Marie sitting in the back, jotting down notes in a corner beside a small window. The crackling fireplace casted a faint orange glow onto her beautiful face. On his way out the door, James slipped her a small note with his number on it and flashed her a wink. James never understood why Marie gave his gangly looking self a call, but he sure is glad she did because without her, he would’ve never been blessed with Velma.

Velma was a perfect mix of her father and mother. She was very tall, stick thin, and incredibly smart like her father. She had silky black hair which she wore as a bob, and pale ghostly skin with bulbous eyes like her mom. Velma also inherited her mother’s incredible creativity as well. Although she was incredibly kind, Velma was never very popular in school. She was quiet and often spent most of her time reading or writing fairytales in the library. Despite being somewhat of an outcast, Velma was never willing to change for anyone. Her mother always taught her that it’s better to be yourself and not be accepted, than to pretend to be someone you’re not.

Velma carried that advice with her throughout her school career. Having just graduated high school, Velma was at a point in her life where she finally felt free of the pressures and judgment of her youth. She was ready for a fresh start in a new place where she could leave her past struggles behind her. Velma knew the minute she graduated that England was going to be the perfect place to begin her new life. Not only was England the birthplace of her father, but also the birthplace of her parent’s relationship and her mother’s success as an author. With a stash saved up from working at the library last summer, Velma had just enough money for a plane ticket to London. With no place to stay and no money for a hotel, Velma rang her Aunt Lia to see if she could occupy her spare bedroom until she could find her own place.

Velma’s Aunt Lia was older than her father James by three years. Unlike her brother, Lia was a short, portly little woman with curly red hair. After Marie’s passing, Lia quickly became a maternal figure in Velma’s life, and the two grew very close despite their physical distance. 

“Hello, Aunt Lia are you there?” Velma shouted through the old rotary phone hanging from her kitchen wall. 

“Yes, my sweet Velma!” Aunt Lia shouted. “How have you been I have missed you so much!” She exclaimed.

“I just talked to you yesterday, Aunt Lia!” Velma responded sarcastically. “Anyway, I am doing great, but I have an important question for you.” She declared. 

“You know you can ask me anything Velma; what do you need?” Lia asked.

“I need to know if you would mind me occupying your spare bedroom for a couple of months.” Velma mentioned. “I am planning a move to London and just need a place to stay until I can get back on my feet.” She confessed.

“Yes Velma, yes, yes, yes, I would absolutely love to host you for as long as you need!” Lia shouted without hesitation. “When do you plan to arrive?” She asked.

“Well, I was hoping I could book a flight out tomorrow morning, if that is ok with you of course.” Velma proposed.

“That sounds wonderful, I can’t wait to see you in person it has been so long!” Aunt Lia exclaimed.

With permission granted from her aunt, Velma immediately booked a flight from Seattle to London set to leave the very next morning. With her plans in order, Velma dashed up the creaky old stairs of her Victorian home and hurried over to her bedroom to begin packing. She bent down and grabbed her mother’s old leather suitcase from underneath her bed. Velma always wanted an excuse to use her mom’s suitcase. The outside was littered with old stickers and patches from the various locations Marie traveled to. After clicking the silver clasps open, Velma twirled over to her long black dresser and slid open the drawers. She meticulously selected various black dresses varying in style, fabric, and length to bring with her. Velma gently folded each dress and carefully placed them into the rather large suitcase. 

She then swept over to her closet to handpick which shoes she was going to bring. Velma selected her favorite Mary-Jane Doc Martens, a pair of black laced boots with a chunky heal her dad made her, and a pair of black high-top Converse. After placing her shoes in a separate duffle bag, Velma added a couple pairs of black stockings, a stripped scarf, and her journal to her suitcase before clicking the silver clasps closed. All packed and ready to go, Velma changed into her pajamas and hopped in bed. Velma lied awake in her bed thinking about the exciting adventures to come. She couldn’t wait to explore the city her mother loved so dearly, but reminders of Marie’s mortality soon crept in as she began to worry about her flight. 

Chapter 2: London

After getting next to no sleep, Velma woke up bright and early the next morning. The sun was just beginning to shine through her large stained-glass window, casting a colorful pattern across her wooden bedroom floors. Her father soon entered the room to carry her suitcase and duffle bag down to the car for her. 

“I didn’t sleep at all last night Velma; I couldn’t help but worry about your plane ride, especially after what happened to your mom.” James confessed. 

“I am worried about it too dad.” Velma said with tears in her eyes. “But the journey is out of our control, we have to have faith that the pilot will get me there safe.” She sighed. 

“I know honey, you just know how I worry” James said. “I just couldn’t survive losing you after losing your mom.” He added. 

“Don’t worry dad, I will call you as soon as I arrive at Aunt Lia’s house.” Velma reassured him, giving her dad a big hug. 

Velma then loaded up into the car and pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye to a worried James in the driveway. 

Velma felt anxious the entire drive to the airport. She had never traveled on her own before and had never spent more than a night away from her dad. She tried to ease her worried mind by focusing on the opportunities that were to come. Unfortunately, focusing on the positive only seemed to work until it was time to board the plane. While navigating the tight, crowded isles of the airplane all Velma could think about was her mother. She wondered if she was making a mistake by risking leaving her father behind forever. 

After finding her seat, Velma nervously sat down beside a young boy who occupied the seat next to hers. He had long dreadlocks tied into a ponytail and looked to be around her age.

“I am so glad to be sitting next to you and not a screaming child this time.” The boy blurted out, with a thick British accent and a chuckle. 

“Oh haha… I am happy to be sitting with you as well.” Velma said, trembling. She was not used to making small talk with kids her own age.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. “I hope I have not made you uncomfortable.” He added. 

“No no, not at all!” Velma reassured him. “It’s just, I have never been on a plane before, or traveled on my own.” She confessed. 

“Oh, I see; well, I can assure you there is nothing to be nervous about.” He encouraged. “Where are you headed anyway?” The boy asked.

“To London, my aunt lives there.” Velma replied.

“London, I am headed there too!” He happily shared. “By the way I forgot to ask you for your name.” He adds.

“I’m Velma Reed, it is nice to meet you.” She smiles.

“Well Velma, I am Nyjah Price, and it is lovely to meet you as well.” Nyjah shares. 

Velma and Nyjah chatted the entire way to London. He was a bright, warm-hearted young man and very sympathetic to Velma and her situation. He did his best to keep her mind off her past traumas by telling her all about his favorite things to do while he is back home in London. After making plans to visit one of Nyjah’s favorite cafés, the pair exchanged phone numbers and parted ways.

Aunt Lia was anxiously waiting in the pick-up zone of the airport for Velma’s arrival. She hadn’t seen Velma in person since Marie’s passing eight years ago. As soon as Velma exited the glass airport doors to the pick-up zone, Lia jumped out of her purple PT Cruiser and ran around to the back, ready to load Velma’s bags into the trunk. 

“Oh, my precious Velma, you have grown so much since the last time I saw you!” Lia said, suffocating Velma with a tight hug. “You have your father’s height and your mother’s beauty Velma; let’s hope you have your mother’s brains as well!” She joked. 

“I am so glad to see you too Aunt Lia!” Velma expressed, gasping for air under her aunt’s chunky knitted scarf.  “Thank you so much again for picking me up and letting me stay with you for a while.” Velma added gratefully.

“Of course Velma, what is family for!?” Lia responded with a wink. “Here let’s load your trunk into the boot and get going; I am so excited for you to see the house!” Aunt Lia uttered, attempting to heft Velma’s overpacked suitcase into the trunk of her PT Cruiser. 

The two then piled into the small purple car and headed to Aunt Lia’s townhome on the outskirts of London. From the airport to Aunt Lia’s house, Velma kept her face pressed against the window, admiring the city both her parents reminisced about so often. The old red telephone boxes her dad used to use to chat with her mom looked so bright against the cool grey sky. She admired the stone sidewalks and narrow alleys that would often come up in her mother’s stories. Velma also recognized the red double-decker buses that her mom would ride to get to and from different cafés. So far, London was everything Velma dreamed it would be, but her mini tour came to an end as Aunt Lia turned down the narrow road leading to her home. 

The street leading to Aunt Lia’s home looked like something out of a period film. It had bumpy cobblestone streets and tall black streetlamps casting a soft orange glow on the faces of the townhomes they lined. The homes themselves were four stories tall and constructed out of white stone that was beginning to yellow in the creases and corners of the carved decorative trim. Every house had chiseled stone railings leading up to the front doors; each door varying in color depending on the house. Aunt Lia’s house had a huge balcony with vines that hung over the top of her porch. She had a rod iron fence enclosing her small front yard, though her yard was more like a forest filled with wildflowers and tall grasses that lined the brick walkway up to the green front door. 

“So Velma, what do you think?” Aunt Lia asked while unloading the suitcase from the back of her car. 

“I am speechless, your house is absolutely stunning!” Velma exclaimed.

Aunt Lia handed Velma her suitcase and began trenching through the forested walkway up to the front door. She rummaged around in her large, knitted purse and pulled out a small, old fashion looking gold key. 

“An antique key for an antique house!” Lia mocked while unlocking the equally old golden doorknob. 

As the heavy door swung open, Velma could tell the inside of Aunt Lia’s house was just as spectacular as the outside. The wallpaper lining the foyer was dark green, embellished with images of a tropical rainforest printed in black. Balls of stray yarn that had been precariously stacked lined the spiral staircase and fled into the landing upstairs. After helping her aunt with the luggage, Velma anxiously followed Lia up the black walnut staircase and into the spare bedroom she would be staying in. The bedroom walls were embellished with peacock printed wallpaper; each feather meticulously adorned with a hint of gold leaf. The floors were the same black walnut as the staircase; however, you could barely see them under the huge antique Persian rug that garnished the ground. A king bed with a beautiful ivory quilt draped over silky blue sheets occupied the center of the room, while a dark rattan papasan chair and several more balls of yarn littered all spare crevasses.  

“I hope this room is to your liking Velma.” Aunt Lia whispered. “It was the same room your mother always used to stay in when she came to visit, so I thought it may make you feel the most comfortable.” She added.

“It is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of Aunt Lia!” Velma exclaimed, giving her aunt a tight squeeze. 

It was getting late now, and the sun had already set beyond the city’s horizon. Velma gave her dad a call as soon as she was settled to let him know that she had arrived safely. She told James all about the telephone boxes and double decker buses she saw on the ride home, and how wonderful her room at Aunt Lia’s was. He was delighted to hear that Velma arrived safely and let her know how much he missed her before hanging up the phone. With a long day behind her and a big day ahead of her, Velma crawled into her silky bed sheets and fell fast asleep. 

Chapter 3: Coffee and Conversation

Velma was awoken the next morning by the ringing of an old rotary phone on her nightstand. 

“Hello?” Velma asked, groggily into the phone.

“Hello, is this Velma Reed?” A young man asked through the other end.

“Yes, this is Velma, who is this?” She asked in a rather confused tone of voice.

“This is Nyjah Price; we had met yesterday on the plane ride to London.” The young man stated.

“Yes, Nyjah hello, I’m sorry I had just woken up!” Velma confessed, embarrassed. “You’re calling because we made plans to visit Vial of Visions today, aren’t you?” She confirmed. 

“Yes, what time are you available today; assuming you still want to join me of course.” He asked confidently. 

“Of course, I have been looking forward to visiting that café my whole life!” Velma exclaimed. “Can we meet there in an hour, say about eleven?” She asked.

“Eleven works perfect, see you soon Velma.” Nyjah said before hanging up the phone.

Velma immediately leapt out of bed and ran over to her closet to pick out the perfect outfit for the occasion. She threw on her favorite knee length black dress with a pair of frilly white socks and her Mary-Jane Doc Martens. She grabbed her favorite stripped scarf her aunt knitted her and headed out the door. Luckily, the café was only five blocks away from her Aunt Lia’s house. Her mother Marie used to visit Vial of Visions every morning when she would stay with Lia. Walking through the narrow streets and alleyways of London, Velma felt as if she could feel her mother’s presence. The atmosphere of the city matched her mother’s energy so perfectly that it felt like Marie was walking right beside her. 

As Velma neared closer to Vial of Visions, she spotted Nyjah waiting for her outside the front door. He was wearing a navy-blue crewneck sweatshirt with the word “Oxford” written across his chest in big white letters. Oxford had always been Velma’s dream school as that was the university Velma’s aunt attended. 

“Hi Nyjah thank you for meeting me here!” Velma said, visibly excited.

“Of course, this is one of my favorite cafes!” Nyjah replied. “Let’s head inside I am dying for a coffee.” He added, gesturing her in. 

The café had a red brick exterior with a green, white, and pink stripped awning shading a small metal table with two stools perched on either side of it. A round sign hung by a chain outside the front door that read: “Vial of Visions Café and Bookshop” in bright pink letters. The “o” in “Visions” had been painted to look like an eyeball with long spidery eyelashes.  Upon entering the café, Velma was immediately greeted with the harsh smell of freshly brewed coffee. To the left sat a long white coffee bar with a pastry case at one end and a cash register at the other. After perusing the menu on the wall, Velma opted for a small dark roast with a chocolate croissant, and Nyjah ordered a flat white with a sour cream donut. Although the café was cute, Velma couldn’t help but wonder why this place, of all the cafés in London, was her mother’s favorite. 

While looking for a place to sit, Velma spotted a small table sat beside a window in the back. The window looked out beyond the shadowy back ally and was slightly foggy from the burning fireplace beside it. Upon setting down her coffee and croissant, Velma noticed a small gold plaque drilled into the corner of the wooden table. The plaque read: “In Loving Memory of Marie Reed”. While examining the plaque, an elderly woman approached the two from a small room adjacent to the table. 

“You must be Velma Reed.” She said in an old raspy voice. “I have been expecting you for quite some time.” She added with a smirk. 

“How did you know I was Velma?” Velma asked in confusion. “Did my Aunt Lia tell you I was coming?” She asked. 

“I do not know of your aunt Velma, but I do know that you look exactly like your mother.” She spoke. “You have the same rosy cheeks, and beautifully curious eyes.” She added, sweeping Velma’s hair behind her ear. 

“Oh... um, thank you.” Velma replied. “Did you know my mother well?” She asked curiously. 

“I knew your mother better than anyone love.” The woman said confidently. “Your mother used to spend hours in here jotting down story ideas; she even wrote some of her best work right in the chair you are sitting.” She added. 

“That is wonderful to hear; I would love to hear all of the memories and stories you have with her!” Velma responded eagerly. 

“Why don’t you come by after-hours my dear, maybe around twelve o’clock tonight?” She spoke. “I’ll show you exactly why your mother loved this place so much.” The mysterious woman said with a wink, before disappearing back into the room.

Velma and Nyjah glanced over at each other in disbelief. Why on earth would this strange woman want to meet them back here at twelve at night? Why not share the stories she has of Marie now? Unsure of whether to trust the lady, Nyjah and Velma hesitantly agreed to meet back at Vial of Visions at twelve o’clock sharp that night. The two then spent the rest of their time at the café getting to know each other better and enjoying their pastries. Velma loved chatting with Nyjah and was happy to be making a new friend. She often couldn’t connect with people her own age, however Nyjah’s bright and goofy personality helped her to open up.  

Chapter 4: Vial of Visions

After finishing their coffees, the pair parted ways and Velma began her walk back to Aunt Lia’s house. As she walked, Velma reflected on the conversation she had with the old woman at Vial of Visions and began to wonder why her mom never mentioned her. It wasn’t like Marie to hide things from Velma, and it led her to wonder what other aspects of her mother’s life she never knew about. When Velma returned to the townhome, she immediately went on the search for her aunt. She was curious whether her mom had ever told Aunt Lia about her relationship with the lady at the café. 

After scanning the home, Velma finally stumbled upon Lia pruning her giant monstera in the living room. 

“Hey Aunt Lia, do you have a minute to talk?” Velma asked.

“Of course love; what can I do for you?” Lia replied. 

“Well, I went to mom’s favorite café today, you know… Vial of Visions; and I was wondering if mom ever told you anything important about that café?” Velma asked, cautiously.

“Well, to be honest with you Velma, she only really said she was going there for some inspiration.” Lia responded with a frown. “She always seemed reserved when answering questions, and I am not one to pry, so I’m afraid I do not have much information for you.” She added regretfully. “Why is something the matter?” She asked. 

“Not at all!” Velma quickly replied. “It just seemed a little basic for moms liking; I was wondering if she ever mentioned why she liked that café so much?” Velma asked, trying to appear inconspicuous. 

“No, I am afraid not my dear.” Lia replied. “If you don’t have any more questions Velma, I would love to get back to cutting this monster of a plant back!” She concluded, wiping the bead of sweat off her forehead. 

“No that is all I needed Aunt Lia, thank you!” Velma replied, walking back towards the stairs to her bedroom.

After returning to her bedroom, Velma began to prepare for the night to come. She changed out of her flowing dress and Mary Janes and into something more practical. She had no idea what adventure her and Nyjah were about to embark on, so she wanted to be dressed more functionally. Velma grabbed the singular pair of pants she owned, a pair of ripped black jeans, and paired them with her favorite green and blue swirled sweater. She finished her outfit off with a pair of comfy, black high-top Converse. She wanted to be prepared incase her and Nyjah would have to do any running away of course. After changing into the perfect practical outfit for the night, Velma passed the time by reading one of her mom’s favorite books in the rattan papasan chair by the window. 

When the time had finally come for Velma to meet Nyjah back at Vial of Visions, she knew she had to be stealthy on her way out the door. She hadn’t told her Aunt Lia about her plans for the night because she had a sneaking suspicion that Lia would not be ok with Velma meeting a boy at a café after hours. Velma carefully got up from her chair, and tip toed toward her bedroom door. The old wooden floors made a small squeak with each step she took. After carefully creaking her bedroom door open, Velma made her way to the top of the staircase only to find Aunt Lia’s Maine coon cat Kate blocking her path. Praying the cat wouldn’t meow and wake up her aunt, Velma gently slid past Kate and began quietly stepping down the spiral stairs, skipping the sixth because it had a bad squeak. Having remained unnoticed, Velma slipped out the front door, and made her way down the street. 

The midnight walk to Vial of Visions was spooky and frigid. When Velma saw Nyjah already waiting by the front door of the café, she breathed a big sigh of relief. 

“Well look who it is!” Nyjah exclaimed with a big grin. “Are you ready for this Velma?” He followed up. 

“I don’t know Nyjah... there’s only one way to find out.” Velma replied with a nervous grin. 

Velma then flashed Nyjah a glance of approval before opening the door to the café. There was a distinct chill in the air as they stepped inside. The fire from earlier had burned out and only one light shone out from the small room in the back. The pair made their way towards the light and cautiously peeked inside the mysterious room. The room was about the size of a broom closet, and the walls were draped in blue velvet. Carved, black wooden shelves chocked full of colorful story books lined the perimeter of the room, and in the center stood a marble podium with two small vials perched on a golden stand. The vials were filled to the top with a sparkling concoction that shifted in color from pink to purple. 

“Good evening, Velma and Nyjah.” A familiar voice said from behind. “I am so glad you were able to make it.” They added.

The two spun around in a panic to find the same old lady they spoke to earlier standing in the shadows of the dark café. 

“Oh, you startled me!” Velma uttered. “So, why did you want to meet us here tonight?” She quickly asked. 

“Drink up and you shall see.” The woman said with a smile, handing them each a vile of the mysterious potion. 

With a hesitant shrug, the two uncorked their vials and downed the mystical, sparkling liquid inside. Their bodies instantly began to feel weightless, and their vision started to spin. They began to hear the faint sound of music in the background and the café began to expand.

Looking up towards the sky, the ceiling appeared to vanish before their eyes. The walls began extending up into the night sky, which displayed a beautiful vision of northern lights. The colors in the sky shifted and swirled from green, to blue, to purple, all while little shining stars twinkled in the distance. Colorful silk tapestries then dropped from the sky, draping over the olive-green walls. The menu board and coffee paintings transformed into spectacular, golden framed paintings of bunnies in three-piece suits, and antelopes wearing feather bowties and top hats. Golden metal beetles and bugs exploded out from the containers of coffee beans, buzzing around Velma and Nyjah’s heads. The long white coffee bar transformed into a beautiful, mirrored potion bar complete with velvet tufted bar stools and a handsome bartender. 

Men and women wearing 1920’s style clothing began flooding through the front door. Men dressed in colorful suites with slicked back hair while women wore flapper dresses paired with matching gem studded feather headbands. Each guest passed over a growling bear rug as they made their way to the glittering bar and tall booths. A live jazz band sprung up from the ground at the front of the café. Each band member wore diamond embezzled suits which sparkled under the neon lights projecting onto the stage. The room filled with the scent of tobacco as men pulled out their pipes and woman smoked cigarettes out of their long black cigarette holders. 

The mysterious woman welcomed each guest as they arrived, chatting with a few she seemed to know well. As the guest settled in, the old lady approached a bewildered Velma, and sat her down at the bar to chat. 

“I am sure you have a lot of questions for me Velma so let me begin by introducing myself.” She said, holding Velma’s trembling hand. 

The old lady went by the name of Iris Crimson. Iris had met Marie Reed late one night when she stumbled into the café with a bad case of writer’s block. Iris told Marie that she had the perfect solution for her lack of inspiration and offered her a vile of potion that would present her with incredible visions, and free her of her horrible writer’s block. As soon as Marie drank the potion, she was instantly transported to Iris’s alternate universe. She was freed of her writer’s block and her ideas started flowing from her mind to the paper like never before. Marie began frequenting the Vial of Visions nightly and produced more quality literature than ever before.

Iris then went on to explain that the reason Marie never divulged the truth about the café to Velma was because she wanted Velma to be able to experience it’s magic herself without any preconceived ideas. Iris explained that Marie used to dream of the day Velma would get to visit the Vial of Visions, and even gave Iris a gift to present Velma with on her behalf when she first arrived. Iris then reached in the pocket of her dazzling cardigan and presented Velma with a small silver box. The same pink eye on the sign outside stamped the top of the package. Upon opening the box, Velma discovered a small gold locket; the same locket she had gifted her mother before her tragic plane ride to London, eight years ago.  

Chapter 1: The Man

Ah, right on time. The 6am train never misses its mark from the countryside, bringing in men, women, and children from the countryside. No one else in the world seems to even notice the horn as it pulls into the station; Lily and the baby don’t even move. As busy and as crazy as London is during the day, there's a beauty to the stillness. Elijah Belmont could sit in this moment forever, but the captain would relish the opportunity to make an example of the young kid in the department. Elijah swears that man will call me “Fresh” till he’s lying on his death still guzzling every drop of whatever is left in his beaten-up flask. No matter, Elijah’s purpose supersedes the vices of someone who will never understand the mission. “You could let yourself rest just a bit more before you go back into the world; Lily remarks. As Elijah turns, that smile, those eyes, and that same sarcastic statement every morning makes having to leave all that more difficult. “We’ve been doing this for so long I’m afraid you’ll think I died in my sleep” Elijah replies as their lips meet. “I love you, Elijah.” “I love you, Lily.” “How’s Nicholas sleeping? “Elijah asks as he starts to get dressed for another day. “It’s the third day in a row he hasn’t woken the neighbors, so this might be a good sign for at least the next week” Lily replies in hopeful optimism. As Elijah struggles to tie this tie, he hears Nicholas starting to stir and quickly rushes to grab his mask and put it on before Nicholas opens his eyes to the world. Lily’s cheerful expression slowly turns to sadness. She knows that this piece of cloth covers both the physical scars and emotional scars her husband wears. “He will love you no matter how you look on the outside. He feels your love every day without even having to see you. You know that, right?” “I do”, he responds softly. “I am just…. Afraid. I only want to be the father he is proud to look up too and not one he shuns from in fear”. She put her hand on his cheek and looked Elijah in the eyes. `` I am proud of you,” she replied as she wore the black coat around him. Elijah placed his hand on Nicholas’s heart and heads for the door before Lily asked him one last question. “I can never understand how you still wear that despite knowing what it means.” “It is the reminder I need to keep going and not be him,” Elijah tells her before the door is closed and heads to headquarters.

Chapter 2: The Day

Elijah heads out of his townhouse and makes his way down towards headquarters which is 10 minutes away. Halfway there he stops at an old rundown bakery and orders breakfast from a nice middle-aged widow, Ms. Grace. “Still wearing that wretched mask, I see. You want your usual?” Ms. Grace comments in a thick English accent “Just like I have been for the past 20 years. Yeah, I’ll take the usual” Elijah responds dismissively “No crust?” Ms. Grace asks. “No crust” Elijah chuckles. Elijah pays for it and heads back onto the street.

Chapter 3: The Mission

Elijah gets to the station and Captain Shelby, out of nowhere, yells at Elijah. `Fresh”; in my office; right now,”. Captain Shelby implores as he knocks a random woman over before slamming the door behind him. Elijah talks a breath and makes his way to the office, stopping to help the young lady up. “Sorry about that mam, he isn’t always aware of people unless he’s spitting at them" Elijah explains as he helps organizes her files. “I’ve picked up on that. Hi, my name is Elizabeth. I am the captain's new secretary” The woman says cheerfully as she extends her hand. “I’m Elijah”, he responds, shaking her hand and heads into the office. Belmont closes the captain's door behind him as Shelby pours his fifth cup of coffee/rum mix. “Fancy a drink, Fresh” Shelby asks, shaking a near empty bottle. “No sir, not today," Elijah replies, sitting in front of the oversized desk covered in loose papers. “Hopefully your new assistant will be able to help you see what your desk actually looks like," Elijah jokes sarcastically. “She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” Shelby asks as he slumps himself into his chair that is clearly way too small for him. “I’m not sure your wife would describe her that way sir. What do you have for me today?” Shelby groans, shuffling around the endless pile of nothing before throwing the report in Elijah’s lap. “5 young men were found dead this morning behind the racetracks by a stable hand for one of the horses. The kid is in the backroom, pretty shaken up by the whole thing. I think I"ve seen everything, but this is different.” Shelby explains as he sips straight from the flask this time. “How so?” Elijah asks out of dismissive curiosity, flipping through the different pages. “Their throats were slit and were missing their reproductive organs," Shelby says as Elijah looks up slowly, speechless. “You need to find out who or what sick fuck is doing this and bring them in to be put to death” Shelby declares slamming his fist on the desk. “Yes, sir”, Elijah responds as he gets up and heads to the door closing behind him.

Chapter 4: The Pledge

Making his way to the backroom, Elijah tries to put himself in the mind of the killer. “Personal, deliberate, enraged, personal, deliberate, enraged”, Elijah mumbled repeatedly. Entering the room, Elijah is greeted by a small girl who could be no more than 10 years old covered in dirt, hay, and blood. As Elijah shuts the door behind him, the girl backs away to the far corner of the room, afraid of the tall stoic man. “Please, please don’t kill me next.” Without saying a word, Elijah takes out the sandwich from this morning and gets on one knee to offer her something she seemingly hasn’t had in a while. She peers up from her knees and swipes the sandwich from Belmont’s hand. “Thank you, sir,”, she exclaims while inhaling Elijah’s lunch. “Can we sit down and talk for a little bit?; Elijah asks, motioning towards the chairs. She nods and the two talk about the events of this morning. After an hour, the two leave the room with Belmont asking a patrolman to make sure the girl, Myndi, gets home safe to her mother. Clutching his notebook, Elijah meets with the coroner and gets an up-close look at the victims. “Have you seen anything like this Belmont?” “No, I haven’t. Anything you can tell me I don’t already know” “The 5 male victims are between the ages of 19-22. All of them were wearing oxford blazers with gold pocket watches in their inner pockets. All 5 have their throats slit and are missing their male reproductive organs. They were alive at the time of the killings denoted by their bloodshot eyes and their tongues were bit in half out of pain.” “So it seems that the killer wanted them to feel everything before they died”, Elijah presumed as he took notes. “Correct. One more thing. They each had a mark on the right side of their necks” The coroner points to a dark red smudge. “A kiss?” Elijah asks, puzzled by the weird mark. “Yes, it seems that our killer is a woman” the coroner deduces, pulling a sheet over the cold bodies.  After a long morning, Elijah Belmont makes his way out of the office only to be suddenly stopped by Elizabeth. “Inspector Belmont, Captain Shelby wanted you to go check out the crime scene and see if there's anything that you could find that the officers might have missed”. “Okay. Tell him I’ll let him know what I find when I return. Thank you, Ms. Elizabeth."

Chapter 5: The Turn

The track that would normally be bustling with ambitious bettors was now a ghost town with only the police occupying the area. As Elijah makes his way through security, everyone is just staring in apprehension and anxiety. “Deputy Brown, tell all your men to leave. I don’t want anyone tampering with the scene any more than they already have.” “Yes inspector”, Deputy Brown replies, moving everyone back to headquarters as the sun starts to set. Elijah starts taking notes and putting himself in the mind of the killer and the victim. “Who are you? A scorned lover? A vigilante? How did man wrong you”? As he walks around the stands, Elijah comes across a storage room with blood covering the floor. He enters the room and notices a shiny object in the corner. A dark red lipstick tube with a gold cap. Belmont picks it up and places it in his coat pocket before hearing something fall over from outside the room. Belmont makes his way towards the sound and is greeted by a dark silhouette 10 meters ahead of him. Both are stood with eyes deadlocked and neither are daring to blink. The mysterious figure was covered in darkness aside from the blue pupils of their eyes. Elijah pulls out the lipstick and holds it in front of him. “You dropped something? “Elijah asked, already knowing the answer to his question. At that moment, the figure darts out of the track towards the downtown population. Elijah gives chase darting through back alleys and running through large crowds of people. The figure is agile and fast, but Elijah isn’t far behind. The figure ducks into a pub, leaving out the back. Belmont stops and walks in behind calmly. “Good day Inspector Belmont, you in a spot of bother at the

moment?”, the barkeep chuckles. “No Billy, I got everything I need” Elijah replies, pulling out the dark lipstick with a slight smile under his mask. 

Chapter 6: The Money

Back at home, Elijah and Lily are eating outside while Nicholas is asleep. “Love, what can you tell me about this?” Elijah asks as he reveals the lipstick found at the crime scene. Lily takes it and starts looking at the makeup, opening it and twisting it. “Where did you find this?” “I found it at the place where those 5 boys were killed this morning. Ran into her after I picked up and she had me running around downtown. Billy wishes his best by the way”.  “That's nice”, Lily replies with a smile. “Whoever owns this has good and expensive taste. This is a rare color you can only get at a handle of high-end stores in London”. She adds as she hands it back to Elijah. “Alright. I’ll be there tomorrow first thing in the morning.

Chapter 7: The Trail 

“So, you're telling me that you got out run by a woman. Jesus Christ Fresh you should be embarrassed hahaha”, Captain Shelby laughs as he rocks back and forth in his chair. “I will try and do better sir. Aside from that, I found a lead at a fancy beauty store downtown earlier this morning. I got the address of a Ms. Margaret Knight and I’m going to”. Before Belmont could finish Ms. Elizabeth stumbled through the door to give Captain Shelby paperwork that she needed him to sign. He signed and as she walked away Captain Shelby commented with a drunken laugh, “I would love to taste whatever you have on your lips darling”. Elizabeth slammed the door behind her, clearly upset. “I will tell you what I find” and Elijah walks out. As Elijah makes his way back to his office, he hears a faint cry in the distance. He turns the corner and finds Elizabeth sitting and crying. Elijah walks up to her and offers her his handkerchief. “Here. Keep it. You're going to be needing it more than me in your position”. “Thank you, Inspector Belmont,” Elizabeth replies, blowing her nose in the white cloth. Elijah heads back to his office but before he does so, he turns and says, “That is a brilliant color you have on today Ms. Elizabeth” She smiles, and he shuts the door behind him.

Chapter 8: The Mirror

In the cold dead of night, rain and thunder can be heard in the distance. Elijah Belmont stands at the street corner looking up at the tall building before him, The Queens Hotel. This was the place his source told him about Ms. Knight was said to be living. Belmont walks in and is greeted by brilliant chandeliers and the pungent smell of expensive perfumes. “Good evening, sir, how can I help you?”, the concierge greets. “I’d like room 313 for the evening” “Of course. Here’s your

key. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you.” Belmont makes his way up the stairs and goes into his room. For the next few hours, Elijah would sit in the bed reading and writing until his watch hits 11pm. He heads out onto the balcony and looks to his right; room 315. Slowly, Elijah shimmies across the outside of the building and enters the window of room 315. Using a matchbook, Inspector Belmont explores the killer's room with vigilance, finding nothing of major significance. Disappointed, Belmont makes his way back across to his room where he finds a young woman drinking in the chair, he was just in. “You know how easy it is to convince a man to do something they don’t want to do. That concierge boy was very eager to let me in your room after he heard what he wanted to hear”. “I can’t say that I know the feeling Ms. Knight. Or should I say Ms. Elizabeth” Belmont exclaims with little surprise in his voice. “How’d you figure me out?” she asked as she took another sip of her wine. “This color suits you perfectly” Elijah states as he tosses the lipstick, he found at her. “What happens now?” she asked with confidence, thinking she knew what was about to happen. Elijah sits down across from her in response and states, “I just want to know your story. Why did you kill those young men?” Elizabeth explains that throughout her whole life, she had been at the mercy of men in power. She grew up in a wealthy family where her father was very abusive to her and her mother. That didn’t stop with just him. While studying nursing at Oxford University, she was assaulted by the group all 5 of those men were in. For the last 10 years, she has been waiting for the opportunity to right the wrongs that had been done to her. This opportunity came in the form of a young college student coming into headquarters accusing a pair of fellow students her as she walked back to her room after she studied in the library. She was turned away by Captain Shelby, but Ms. Elizabeth wasn’t going to have someone else go through what she went through. “Why did you come to me? Why did you let me catch you?” Elijah asked as he wrote his final pieces of information. “In my 28 years of life and after all that man have done to me, you were the only one who treated me like an equal rather than a piece of meat.” Elizabeth held up the handkerchief that Elijah had given her that morning. “I contemplated killing your Captain after all that he has said and done. You gave me hope that people can be good and there are good men amongst the pile of shit that make up this city.” At that moment, Elijah Belmont stands in front of Elizabeth. “I am sorry for what happened to you at the hands of your father and those boys at Oxford. I can't change what's happened and I must see justice is done for what you did to those boys. I will promise you this. No one will be turned away from revealing the truth again”. Elizabeth nods in acceptance and the two leave the hotel with her hands behind her back.

The old man stood outside - for what felt like forever - and stared at his bike; admiring the shiny silver fenders and the deep red paint that covered the gas tank. He took pride in his motorcycle, as was evident from his continual admiration of it, and with it sitting at the peak of his driveway, he seemingly hoped that others would appreciate it as well. If he was lucky enough, a neighbor walking by might ask him a question or two about the bike, and he surely basked in that as if he were being interviewed for the evening news. He spent several hours every day doing the same exact thing; standing outside and looking at his bike - sometimes with the radio on in the background - I suppose to keep him company. The broadcasters on the radio combined with the sounds of the cars passing by, probably created a world where he felt less alone, less uncomfortable with what his life appeared to be. Interestingly enough, I never once saw him ride the bike.

I first moved in in January, the core of Winter, the snowiest and darkest time of year around here, so I always assumed that I would see the old man ride his bike once May rolled around and the weather was warm. Though, when May eventually came and went, I thought that I might see him take it for a spin on a cool July evening - under the stars and alongside the fireflies amongst the smell of summer bonfires and s’mores in the air as young parents took their kids for walks around the block after dinner, taking advantage of the last moments of sunlight the day had to offer. I waited to see him embark on this summer night journey that I’d been anticipating. Again, the days dissolved, the summer came and went. Years passed and he never rode the bike. I never even saw him sit on its aged emerald seat which radiated a look of being battered and vintage, but a feeling of, weirdly enough, tenderness and love. As cliche as it sounds, I picked up on the bike having a special significance - all decided from the view from my window. Anyways, years and years later the man passed away and his children and grandchildren came to clear out his house. The bike was in the same spot it always had been; completely unmoved from the top of the driveway, yet somehow it still looked as bright and polished as I remembered it being the day I moved in - or maybe that was just my own inclination of it and the fondness I always had for the old man...or at least

of my perception of him, from the view from my window.

Through some obligatory neighborhood socializing, I discovered that none of his kids wanted the bike and I offered to take it off their hands. Truth be told - something about it had really just fascinated me for all those years. Why wouldn’t someone ride such a good-looking bike? As I inspected it I found a note taped under the right handlebar.

“John,

This note is staying right here to remind you to always be safe on this bike!

Read this note everytime you ride.

I love you forever,

Sarah”

Reading this note brought me into my late neighbor’s world. He was always the doer, who liked to be out in nature and chat with our neighbors. While I, the observer, minded my own. I stayed behind my window to see what was going on in the neighborhood. A glass partition being the only thing between me and the old man for all those years. And all the while, I had missed the fact that all the old man probably wanted was some consideration. I always failed to say hello to him when arriving home from the grocery store, I never offered to shovel his driveway when it snowed. Instead I just wondered...from the view from my window.

***

I found out that the old man, John, had lost his wife, Sarah, to a car accident 15 years prior to his death. She was driving her car home from work when a motorcyclist ran a red light and desolated the driver’s side of her vehicle, killing himself and her. I guess that, on that day, John decided he would never ride his bike again because the same machine that took his wife’s life would not be one that he ever rode again. I wonder if he spent all that time outside with the bike because he loved it, or because he judged himself for wanting to ride it, or for the fact that he ever rode it once at all. Though all I can do is assume, from the view from my window.