You know those nights, right? The wild ones. Raucous. Chaotic. Intoxicating. Or intoxicated, at least. For the life of me I don’t know how I got here. My mind is foggy. My head is pounding. It feels like my brain is literally trying to escape from my skull by beating its nonexistent fists against my temples, against my eyes. Screaming to be let out. At first my vision was blurry, lights and shapes swimming in and out of focus. In and out. Up and down. All around. Swirling about me like a nauseating, whirlwind carousel of sensory hell. It’s starting to come in to focus now, but the lights in this room are making my eyes sing with pain. It’s making the headache much worse. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hung over. My mouth. Jesus. It’s not just cotton mouth. This isn’t like cotton balls between my teeth. It’s a whole field of cotton. Rows and rows of it, springing to existence inside my lips, blooming and growing wild. Out of control. My tongue is shrieking for water. It feels as though it will shrivel up and turn to dust inside my mouth. It feels as though I’ve never had water in my entire life. And it’s not just the desert dryness, the taste! Oh god, the taste. It’s unbearable. Imagine if somebody if somebody took a whole bottle of cheap ass vodka, glass and all, a pack of cigarettes, whatever mess you scrape off of the bottom of your shoes, and a full, filthy ass diaper. Take all those things and put them in blender. Turn it on high and make a smoothie out of that rancid shit. Then drink it. That’s what it tastes like. Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. What is this shit?!? What is this metal thing on my wrist?!? Oh shit balls, there’s a chain... A fucking chain! Am I chained to a wall?!? Oh god no. No no no no no no... There’s a manacle encapsulating my left wrist. I’m in literal chains! Oh god...shit, don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re fine. Ah, FUCK! What the holy hell is this?!? Where am I? What is this place?!? I’m in deep, deep shit this time. Why is this happening? Why am I even here? Think. Think think think, you stupid bastard! Oh hell. Just breathe. Focus. What happened last night? Go back. Go back. Ok, well, I know I was at Barry’s last night. Barry’s is what you would call a dive. Yeah, a dumpster dive. A classic little shithole of a bar. Downtown, smack dab in the middle of the seediest part of my city. I go there because it’s close. Close to work. Close to home. That’s why I go there. So I don’t have to drive drunk. Not that I could anymore. I lost my license not too long ago because of that fucking DUI. About a month ago. So I couldn’t drive any more. Even if I wanted to. That was a bad fucking night. But this is worse. So much worse. Oh my god. Help! Fucking help! Somebody fucking help me, oh god, oh Jesus Christ, help!!! Oh fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Oh god no. This isn’t right. What am I doing here?!? The lights. Ah, man, my fucking eyes! Ok, the lights are fluorescent. Bright. Blinking like somebody having a god damn seizure. Shitty. But bright. And the walls...oh my fucking god! Is that...blood? That’s fucking blood! Ok, fuck. So I’m crying. That’s ok. That’s ok. You’re chained to a fucking wall that’s covered in blood. Anybody would cry over that. Right. Right. Ooooooook...deep breath. The chain is bolted into the wall. I’m not going to be able to pull it out and there’s no way I can get it off of my wrist. There’s a ratty twin size mattress on the floor. And, oh wow, ha ha ha ha... That’s just great. I’m betting those stains are blood too. What the hell is going on in this place? What was that noise? Shit. There’s a door over there. Heavy, metal, no windows. Rusted to shit like it’s seen better days but still impenetrable. Oh my god. It’s opening! Hey, help me! Over fucking here! Wait... A man just entered the room. Tall, lanky. A spindly ass string bean of a guy. And he’s wearing a black balaclava. Great. Classic. The only part of his face I can see are his eyes. Shining and glinting in the fluorescent light like two nasty blue gems set deep in his covered face. He’s not going to let me out of here. He’s the one who put me here. And he’s coming closer! Look, man! I shout. You’ve got the wrong guy I promise you! Ok. Ok. Maybe you don’t. What did I do to you? Did I fuck your girl? Oh wait... oh no. Man... did I... did I fucking run somebody over?!? A hit and run? Did I kill your girl? Your kid? Hey, hey, hey. Hey, man. We can talk about this ok? I’ve got money! I can pay you! Please just let me out of here! Fucking please! He’s...he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing at me! Ok, bro. You got me. Ok. I don’t have any fucking money! I’m sorry, alright! I don’t have any money. I can’t pay you. But I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry! I’m so fucking sorry. Just please, please let me go. He’s still coming closer. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him if I wasn’t chained to this fucking wall! Oh shit this is bad. I slump down the wall, sliding my ass against the dark brown stains, as if sliding my ass against old, dried shit. Crumpling on top of the no doubt bug-infested, blood stained, pinnacle of DNA evidence that is the twin sized mattress. He’s still fucking laughing at me. It’s starting to piss me off. He’s shaking and shaking and shaking with delight and mirth. So hard that his skeletal frame just might shake itself to pieces right here and now. He lifts up a single, slender finger and wipes away tears from his eyes. Oh, that’s rich! He says. A big inhale inflates his rib cage and he lets out an entertained, satisfied sigh. He’s crouching down now on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his knees as he brings himself to my level. He thinks I’m funny. He just said so. He also says he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know me? What the fuck? Then why the hell am I even here? I ask him. Oh, he says, I just like killing people.


I was really looking forward to visiting the Kurseong hill station in India. My friends Arjun, Sunita, Vijay and I had been planning this trip for quite some time. We had heard all about the haunted Dow Hill forest and wanted to see it for ourselves. Being the city dwellers we were, we made fun of the local superstitions and beliefs associated with that place and assumed that it was probably harmless. Just a spooky looking forest that had earned a bad reputation due to the overactive imagination of human beings. The myth that intrigued me the most was about the apparition of a headless child in Dow Hill forest. The local legend was that when walking along the path in the woods, you would sense a presence right behind you. But you mustn’t turn around. Because if you do, you would see the aforementioned headless child. And once you had seen him, your fate would be sealed. If you didn’t die of fright right there, the headless child would follow you for the rest of your life. It would either drive you insane or would compel you to kill yourself. The story goes that the boy was taken from his home and murdered. His head was chopped off. Since then he wanders the forest and attaches himself to anyone who sees him. This is what a fellow patron told us at the hotel where we were staying. He was probably over seventy and had been born and raised in Kurseong. He was visiting his home town and when he heard our conversation about wanting to go to Dow Hill forest, he politely asked if he could tell us a few things about it. I suppose he was trying to dissuade us from going, but his friendly warning only fed our curiosity and made us even more determined to go to Dow Hill forest and walk down that path. At night, of course. We thanked the kind old man for all the info and decided to head into town. We visited a few local tourist attractions but the thought of going into the forest is what made us salivate. I think we saw it a challenge. To be able to go to the Dow Hill forest, walk the “forbidden” path and prove that the local legends were balderdash. That night, after we had had dinner, we decided to head into the forest. We were walking along the path that cut through the middle of the forest and led to a road on the other side. Just a few hundred feet from there was a bus station. We would be there in time to catch the bus back to town. The night wasn’t especially dark. The full moon illuminated our path and we could see our surroundings quite clearly. We did carry flashlights, but they were unnecessary. The four of us walked together, telling stories , laughing at each other’s jokes. As we ventured deeper and deeper into the forest, we began to hear strange noises. Granted they seemed to be coming form a distance and we had to strain our ears to hear them, but they were there. I mean , we all heard them. Surely four people could not have the same hallucination. It sounded like someone wailing in despair and agony. This was followed by the sound of laughter. The natural flow of our conversation was gone. And it seemed we just talked out of necessity to prevent silence from engulfing us. I’m sure that each of us had begun to feel that the legends about the forests may not be so baseless after all. Arjun tried to lighten the mood. He began to share with us an anecdote involving him and a one night stand. He was facing us and walking backwards. Sunita was just telling him to be careful when he tripped over a rock and fell. He had sprained his ankle badly. We all cursed under our breaths. But Sunita was prepared as always. She pulled out a pain relief spray and a length of bandage from her back pack. Essentials that the rest of us geniuses had forgotten to pack. She sprayed Arjun’s ankle and wrapped it up. Vijay was bent down watching Sunita attend to our friend and made a few light hearted joke at Arjun’s expense. As they were occupied, I felt like something, or someone was right behind me. I turned around and there he was! The headless child. He was there for a fraction of a second before disappearing. He didn’t evaporate or anything, the way ghosts do in bad horror movies. He was there one instant and was gone the next. I let out a gasp. Vijay asked me what was wrong. I remained silent and kept on staring at the place where I had seen the apparition. He asked again. This time Sunita and Arjun too were on their feet. Arjun with a little help from Sunita. I decided not to say anything. Because I honestly didn’t know if I had actually seen the headless child or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I had been thinking about what the old man had told us all day. Maybe this was something my subconscious mind had just conjured up. Especially since I was already a bit nervous, what with all the distorted sounds we kept hearing. I told my friends it was nothing. We slowly made our way to the narrow stretch of road on the other side of the forest. We reached the bus station, caught a bus and by midnight, we were back at the hotel. Now that were back in familiar surroundings, the trepidation we had felt in the forest seemed silly. We joked about it and patted ourselves on the back for having “conquered” Dow Hill forest. I decided to put any thoughts of the headless child out of my mind as we went to bed. I was in my hotel room, in the middle of my nightly skin care routine when I felt like I heard the pitter patter of little feet. The sound seemed to be coming from the bathroom. My heart racing, I rushed to the bathroom and turned on the light. There was nothing there. It must have been some kid in the adjacent room, is what I told myself. I went to bed and tried to force myself to sleep, telling myself again and again that there was nothing in Dow Hill and that what I had seen was a figment of my own imagination. We stayed in Kurseong for another two days and the whole time, I kept hearing things. If it wasn’t the sound of little feet running around in my room, it was the sound of a child’s laughter right next to my ear in the lobby. The looming sense of dread I felt became all too real when we were about to check out and I offhandedly asked the front desk manager if there was a child in the room next to mine and he told me that room had been vacant for several days. I told myself once again that I was just letting the rumors about the forest get to me. After we landed in New Delhi, I went to my parents’ house to pick up my dog, Nova and then went back home with her. I had missed my good girl. Once I was in my own home, I was sure I would stop imagining weird things. But that was not to be. What had followed me to New Delhi wasted little time in making it’s presence known. That night as I cooked dinner, Nova sat in the hallway playing with her chew toy and watching me work. As I listened to music and chopped veggies, I felt what I thought was Nova pawing at my calve. But then I looked up and saw her still sitting just outside the kitchen. I jumped back in shock and fear. I would have dismissed this too as a product of my imagination, had I not heard the same pitter patter of tiny feet in the hallway and Nova barking her head off in the sound’s direction. The strange occurrences soon became a part of my life. One evening, I was in my study trying to get some work done, when my pen inexplicably fell off the desk. When I reached down to pick it up, I heard the sound of tiny, bare feet running out of the study, accompanied by a child’s giggle. As if a toddler had just played a prank. Nova, once again began to bark like crazy. I petted her, more for my own comfort than for hers. She looked into my eyes as if to tell me that something was very, very wrong. As the days went by, the activity only escalated. I was terrified of being alone in my own house. I made sure Nova was by my side at all times. In the shower, I could see through the steam, the silhouette of a small child right outside. And of course, Nova’s growling would confirm that something really was there. When I went to sleep at night, I could sense someone standing right next to my bed. I have a few friends who have kids. They’ve often told me how they’ve been scared shitless when they woke up in the middle of the night to find their kid silently standing next to them. Now I could relate. Except, unlike them, the kid next to my bed was missing his head. When I cooked, did my laundry, got some office work done etc I could see something just at the edge of my field of vision. Objects that I *knew* I hadn’t touched Nova couldn’t reach would be moved. Sometimes, when I got ready for work in the morning, I could see little hand prints on the mirror. At first I tried to ignore it and didn’t show any kind of reaction when it appeared or moved something. I thought if it didn’t get some kind of reaction out of me, it would lose interest and might go away. I was wrong. The spirit was in no mood to be ignored. One evening I was in my study and the thing was running around as it usually did. I heard a thug as if someone had bumped into my reading chair. I didn’t even look up. The child didn’t like that. In the next second, I saw the antique clock I kept on the fireplace mantle levitate, then come flying at me as if someone had thrown it. I ducked out of the way just in time and the clock crashed into the wall behind me. Not only did the spirit refuse to be ignored, it had shown me that it could cause harm if it didn’t get it’s way. It was like a child throwing a tantrum at being denied a toy. Only this was even more terrifying. I could hardly get any sleep, as on most nights, I would be lying awake in bed. I was constantly paranoid and looking over my shoulders. As a result of this stress, my performance at work began to suffer. My social life too had taken a beating, as I wasn’t exactly the most fun person to be around. I considered moving, but I knew that the headless child would only follow me. I didn’t want to tell anyone for fear of being thought of as insane. One evening, my best friend, Sunita came over. She said she had noticed that ever since we got back from our trip to Kurseong, I wasn’t acting like myself. That I seemed constantly stressed. She asked me to tell her what was wrong. I felt a huge weight being lifted from my chest as I told her everything. Sunita listened patiently and told me that she believed me. She said that that night in the Dow Hill forest, she too had felt a presence behind us, but she didn’t look. Sunita has an aunt, Rekha, who calls herself a medium. She claims to have had encounters with spirits and has helped them move on. When I had first heard about this, I laughed it off. I called these stories ridiculous and suggested that Sunita’s aunt see a psychologist. But now, when Sunita suggested that we ask her for help, I agreed. Rekha and I spoke on the phone and she agreed to come to my place and see what she could do. The following Saturday, Rekha walked around the house, examining every nook and corner. She seemed deep in contemplation. Finally, after about 30 minutes, she told me there definitely was a presence in the house, that of a little boy, but she sensed no malice from it. Only sadness. I let out a harsh chuckle and told her about the incident with the clock. I asked her why someone who had no malice in them would do such a thing. Rekha replied that prolonged grief can often give way to anger. The spirit was probably in great pain. She repeated that she sensed no malice. She also said that she couldn’t just make spirits move on without finding out what they want. I thanked her and she left. I didn’t know about the spirit, but now I felt anger rising in me. This “child” had made my life hell and he’s the one who was in pain? I was a prisoner in my own home while he had free reign! What more could he possibly want? It was now after dark and I decided to do some reading. I sat in my reading chair and tried to focus on the book. And that’s when I saw it. A tiny headless form in the corner of my eye. I think my annoyance overcame my fear and I instantly turned my head and looked at it. Standing just a few feet from me was a toddler, in a pair of brown pants and a white shirt and with no head. I just stared in awe and terror. Then I noticed something. His fingers. They were so tiny and looked so delicate. His size and the way he stumbled when he walked suggested that he was no more than three years old. How did a child so young lose his head? Who would have the heart to do such a thing? As these thoughts crept into my mind, I began to feel sympathy. I held out a hand towards the little boy, even as my body shook with nervous energy. The child walked towards me and touched my hand with his. And as he did, I was engulfed in a bright white light. I opened my eyes to find myself back in Kurseong. I was sitting on the grass next to a huge house. I looked down at my hands. Only they were not *my* hands. They were the hands of a toddler. I saw my hand, or should I say the toddlers hand, reach out for a stuffed bunny and play with it. From the house, a woman emerged. She had a bright, warm smile. Her clothes were very old fashioned. She picked me up and kissed my cheeks. She called me her little bear and asked if I was having fun. I heard a small child say “yes, mamma”. Then I heard another voice, a man’s voice from the house. He was asking the woman to come look at something. “Mamma” put me down and went back in. I saw myself continue to play, look at the squirrels, hear the birds. I felt safe and happy. Then suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed me by my arms. I was being carried off in a hurry with a hand place over my mouth to keep me from making a sound. I felt the stuffed bunny slip out of my hands. I was placed inside a sack and I couldn’t see what was going on. I felt myself being pushed around harshly and heard angry voices talk in a language that I did not understand. I felt tears pour out of my eyes. Finally I was taken out of the sack and saw myself surrounded by trees and a bunch of scary looking people. I realized this was the Dow Hill forest. I was right next to the path that my friends and I had walked. The men talked amongst themselves, but when one of them heard me whimper, he slapped me so hard I fell down. They continued to speak in the same angry awful tone. They would often look at me or point towards me and I knew that I was the subject of discussion. I then saw one of them pick up a large knife, like a machete. He lifted it high above his head and then brought it down on me. I was once again engulfed in a white light and his time when I opened my eyes, I was back in my study. The child was gone. I felt sobs shake my body. This is what had happened to that poor child. Some dastardly sub humans took him from his home and killed him. But why? Was he kidnapped for ransom and killed when the parents couldn’t pay? Or were the men extracting some kind of sick retribution? Whatever the case may have been, this child was brutally killed and was now unable to move on. Nova had heard me sobbing and came close to me. I hugged her as I cried. I remembered the woman who called him “little bear”. She must have been his mother. I could *feel* the innocent, tender emotions this child felt for her, even as he showed me what had happened to him. I realized that I wasn’t dealing with a demon, but with a lonely little boy. One who had been snatched away from loving care and then deprived of life. I decided I would not try to rid this house of him. If he wanted to stay, he could. I tried to do some research onto his murder, but I haven’t found much. It appears that his killers were never brought to justice. I wasn’t able to get used to the child’s presence in my home immediately. That took a while. But slowly, I accepted him as a part of my life. I even brought some toys home. Soft plushies - bears, dogs and bunnies, just like the one he had. I kept his toys in a small spare bedroom I had. Soon after, the child’s activities became very mellow. I can still hear his little feet running around but it no longer feels menacing. Just the sound of a toddler playing. And his activities usually remain confined to and around the room where I’ve kept his toys. Even Nova seems to be getting along with our little guest. Sometimes, I can see her wagging her tail at empty space, or lying on her back with a doggy smile on her face and pawing at something and I know that he’s there. I guess he likes playing with my dog too. I’m optimistic that having a home, a place where he no longer has to wander, where he isn’t feared or reviled will help him heal. And then maybe someday he’ll be able to move on. But until then, I share my home with a little boy with no head.


( Part one ) I was born different from the others. I was born with an inability to lie. I was born in the main village of my tribe. Everyone is born in the main village. But my thirteenth birthday is approaching, which means I may not be able to live in this village any longer. Let me explain. My world, K’setra is ruled by one High King. He governs six smaller tribes, including mine, the mountain tribe, Sikhra. Every year there comes a day which we have come to call, Cira, where all the children who turn thirteen that year are brought to a ceremony where the King’s representatives come and inspect and interview them. Then they might be sent to a different sector, or even a different tribe. Some are taken away and never seen again. Only the luckiest, and the richest are allowed to remain in our beloved village. There are several different sectors to every tribe. Agriculture, fishing, hunting, military, healing, philosophy, factory, and construction. Whatever the Inspectors see in you, they’ll send you to a sector where you’ll be mentored for a few years, and then maybe sent on missions, or deported, and so on. It is a cruel system, and many curse the High King behind his back. But those who are too outspoken are killed. My thirteenth birthday arrives, and with it a sense of dread among the villagers, because my birthday happens to be the day before Cira. My friends visit me. There is determined Chase, who is basically my brother, loyal Storm, who would never leave anyone behind, and sweet Hazel, who can think the best of anyone. We wish each other luck for the following day, where afterwards we may never see each other again. We reminisce about old adventures. We reassure each other with empty words. That night we all sleep in my small house. They are the only family I have, and I want to spend every second of my remaining time with them. The next morning dawns bright and cold, and I wake abruptly. I turn and I see little Hazel cuddled up next to me, her soft brown hair fanning out behind her. I raise myself up a little on my bed to see across the room to where I had set up a few blankets on the couch for Chase and Storm. I only see Storm splayed out across the blankets, her mouth gaping. I frown, and get up carefully, trying not to disturb Hazel. I wrap my simple grey cloak around me and step outside, closing the door behind me. I shiver slightly and head to where I know Chase will have gone. My little house happens to be near the cliff edge of the mountain our village is on. It is a little cabin-like house with wooden rafters, and chipped doorway. A little farther down is a large jumble of boulders at the very edge of the cliff that we call Rockfall. The cliff faces another mountain which is usually capped with snow. It is a beautiful sight, especially early in the morning when we can see the sun rise and sparkle on the fresh frost. I spot Chase sitting on a large boulder farther down the Rockfall, staring at the sun rising beyond the mountains. I clamber down, and perch myself beside him, watching our breath billow into a single cloud in the chilled mountain air. He looks at me, his blue eyes filled with tears. I suddenly realize how young we actually are. How undready we are to face the world on our own. I hug him very close, each of our sorrows melting into a cloud that flows around us, and obscures the sun. I pull away from him. He whispers to me “ I don’t think I’ll ever see you again. They’ll tear us apart. I can’t do it. I can’t live without you guys. “ Hot tears burn my eyes and my breath shakes. I take his hand and say quietly “ I’ll find a way, Chase. I’ll find a way to keep us together. I promise. “ Hours later I find myself standing in a long line of thirteen year olds in the old marble pavilion in the center of the village where the Cira takes place every year. A silent crowd faces us, the families and friends of those who stand pale beside me. We wait for the King’s inspector to arrive, my long black hair whipping around me in a cold breeze. I nervously catch Hazel's eye, my stomach churning with apprehension. Suddenly our tribe leader, Neta steps onto the pavilion. She observes us with sad eyes. She takes a deep breath and begins her usual speech. “ Each and every one of you have spent thirteen good years here with us in Sikhra village. You have made us all proud, and though you may move on, your memories will linger here. We will not forget your triumphs, nor will we forget your laughter....” The speech drones on, and I can feel my nails digging into my palms, and my heart thumps loudly in my ears, drowning out even the others' quiet breathing. I shut my eyes, trying not to believe that this is happening. I open my eyes, unnerved by the sudden hush of the crowd. My heart leaps up into my throat as I see the inspector walk onto the stage. He wears an elaborate red uniform laced with gold thread in intricate designs, and tall leather boots. He has cold eyes, pale skin, and high cheekbones. His hair is streaked with grey and combed back on his head. He surveys us silently for a moment before he speaks. “ As you know, I am here to inspect you for placement by order of the High King. We shall start with--” He glanced down at a long list that Neta gave him. “ Abraxhi, Nikola. Step forward, boy. “ I felt a surge of sympathy for Nikola. I was never really friends with him, but I cannot help but feel sorry for him, as he steps forward, shaking from head to foot. After a careful interview, Nikola is sent to farming. Not bad. I know Nikola comes from a family of good farmers. I silently wish him the best as he walks off of the stage. The Inspector continues down the list. They all walk up and give the interview, some I know well, and some I do not. I feel terribly sorry for each of them. Finally: “ Hakahn, Storm “ Storm gives a small whimper, and her hands tremble. She steps forward and suddenly a voice shouts “ Storm! Stop! “ We all turn. It’s Chase. He’s stepped out of line, and is holding tight to Storm’s arm. She shakes her head at him, almost imperceptibly, her amber eyes wide. Chase looks up into the Inspector’s face and yells “ You are not taking her away! I won’t let you imprison and enslave her like you’ve done to the others! We’ll never serve you and your dictator!” Chase turns to us and screams “ FOR FREEDOM!!! FIGHT THE OPPRESSION!!! FIGHT THE KING!!! “ Nobody moves. Despite the peril of the situation, I find myself awed by Chase’s incredible bravery and loyalty. The Inspector’s face is impassive. Suddenly he turns to me and says “ Vera. “ My breath catches in my throat. I forget about everything. “ Do you feel the same as your friend Chase, here? “ My breaths are fast and shallow. I know that I cannot lie. I know that I will not be able to protect my friends. I take a deep breath and open my mouth. “ I do. “ The Inspector's face hardens slightly. And he speaks now with a sharp bite in his voice. “ Yes, Vera, I’ve heard all about you of course, darling, the only Truthsik here in a century. The girl who is unable to tell a lie, yes very dramatic, I know. “ My heart flutters like a caged bird, sensing what is about to happen. “ Too bad “ says the Inspector “ That being truthful cannot save you. “ Suddenly he lunges for the sword hanging at his belt. I scream, a terrible fear blossoming inside me and I leap toward Chase and Storm, knocking them aside a second before the sword slices through the air where our heads had been. We land hard on the marble floor. I am only dimly aware of Hazel’s distant screams and the chaos that explodes in the rest of the pavilion. All my attention is on the Inspector who walks calmly toward us, dragging the tip of his sword on the floor, leaving a single delicate cut in the marble. Without warning he swings the sword up and screeches “ IT’S TIME TO DIE, TRAITORS!!!” I kick up at him, hard, my mind filling with panic. I grab Storm and Chase and we roll sideways, and again we only just miss the sword as it smashes down. I’m on my feet again, and I pull Storm with me. I scream at Chase “ GET HAZEL!!! “ I drag Storm to the edge of the pavilion and my eyes fly through the terrified crowd, searching for a sign of Chase and Hazel. Suddenly they appear running toward us. I grab Chase’s hand and we sprint out of the crazed pavilion.


My heels spoke with every step. Thoughts bounced off the walls as I ran, reflecting back onto me. I halted in front of the cage and pounded on the small black button like a barbarian. To anyone else at any other time I would have looked insane, but this was a far from sane time. Come on...come on.. God! Just open! *Ding* Ugh finally! A small can of pepper spray in one hand, along with stacks of paper in the other. My heart was hammering out of my chest. I stuck my left foot through the door, almost tripping on my other. Then I heard distant yelling of what sounded like someone racing almost as fast as I was to get to the second floor. The door closed. I was safe. For now. *Ding* 9... *Ding* 8... *Ding* 7... *Ding* 7... Wait. *Ding* 7.. *Ding* 7.. huh? The dinging ceased a few seconds later as I was just about to cover my ears from the incessant noise. I felt the cage stop with a loud thud. No! No! No no no no! This isn't happening. Not now. Not with him battering against my mind. I searched the numerous buttons lined against each other and my eyes eventually landed on an button outlined in red, with what appeared to have a small phone on it. My finger rapped against it. No answer. Of course! This had to happen now! I thought with disdain. After a few more minutes I eventually gave up. My feet were already sore from what seemed like miles of running. I came to the conclusion that I was going to be here for awhile, and might as well get comfy. My papers floated to the ground and I pocketed the small can. *Ticktock* *Ticktock* I looked around the cage and searched for the sound. *Ticktock* *Ticktock* As I was starting to tire from the din. I nodded my head up, closed my eyes and heaved a long awaited sigh. A slight shine of white gripped my eyes. My eyelids fluttered open. A clock on the top? I pondered. What is this? The Ritz-Carlton? I clocked my head and peered at the two arrows. 11:22 PM. 38 minutes is fine. I stepped to the side of the cramped cage and crouched down. It felt surprisingly soft. Carpet. Carpet? Strange. Well I suppose that's the least of my worries. It was a shade of light purple, adorned with a seductive gold trim. I plopped down once more with my knees against my chest, I wrapped my willowy arms around and began to contemplate what to do next. Let's go over what we know. I was running. I was waiting. I was stuck. I buried my head into my small frame and dug my nails, well more like claws, into the carpet. Just then a thundering *Boom!* shattered through the floor. I've always hated rain. At least the lights remained. Claps of thunder and lightning could be heard from the south wall. I glanced to the door hoping someone. Anyone. Would somehow magically pry open the doors. However, I knew deep inside the only thing prying those metal doors was that wretched creature. My spine crept over as I brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. Exhaustion was holding my hand, I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to escape this prison. God knows how long it's been. I glanced up at the oval timepiece. 11:37 PM. I took a glimpse of the entrance of the enclosure. A small vent caught my eye. I crawled over to it, careful not to send my papers sprawling, and perched in front of it. My eyes skimmed over the uneven surface, I trailed my delicate fingers across it. It was opened, but only just enough to hear sound, not to see anything other than the tan panels. I gently put both hands on it and pushed. Other than the slight creak it made, it was silent. Good. Silent is good. I pushed with more force, but nothing. I pushed a final time as another creak escaped its lips. It wasn't giving anytime soon. I took my hands off feeling a bit defeated, but was soon cut off by a *Pitter patter* The rain lightened up, a gleam of hope ran rampant across my vision. This way I can hear his steps. I took my hands up to the wall and stood up feebly. Fatigue consumed my body. A sudden high-pitched scream echoed through my bones. The walls started to rattle, causing the small clock to come crashing down. I yelped, but quickly covered my mouth with my hand. Afraid to cause any more ruckus. I hoped the previous noise was enough to dull my own commotion. He’s getting closer. I bent down and carefully picked up the shards. Once I had picked up almost all of them -the others to small to see- I set them down in the corner opposite the vent. Afraid to cut myself, I looked down and cautiously crossed the floor to the other side. At first it was barely noticeable but then it started to rock me. The rattling was back. From what you ask? Well, it could be an earthquake, but I had an inkling it was much worse than any natural disaster. I squatted down and laid my body there as best as I could. The elevator being quite small -even for me- was a challenging task to do. The rattling stopped. Then the two lights at the entrance burst. My hand reached up to my face to block it. I felt glass piercing my fragile skin. A piece dug into my leg and through my navy blue jeans. I clenched my jaw and waves of agony rolled out from under it, across my entire head, and even down my neck. There were multiple small shards stuck in it. A few even managed to catch on my cheek. As an unearthly cry filled the room, I let out my own cry of dread. I was too terrified to care if he had heard. Just as sudden as the cry the rattling begun once more, but this time I felt the elevator start to drop. He was climbing the ropes. Each tug could be felt across my entire being. I started to count each one. At about fourteen I heard a what sounded like faint breathing. I held my breath terror-stricken. At nineteen he stopped. A breeze shifted through the room, and with that sent a bitter shiver up my spine. He was here, and there was no denying it.


I live alone, I've lived alone for many years. Most of my family has passed away, and when they was alive I was the black sheep in my family. I was the outsider in school, always being tormented about my fuzzy hair, my yellow teeth,my ''poor'' clothes. I got use to it. I've gotten use to people being horrible to me. Just like I've gotten use to being alone. The rain on my roof keeps me sane, I relate to the rain with how it grows slowly and steady and becomes heavier, how it pours and sounds angry, the way the sounds knock on my roof and home don't scare me anymore. I use to be so scared of the rain and thunder. But I now relate because like the rain I use to be sad and pour and pour tears, and like thunder I use to howl of anger and want to knock on people's roofs and keep them awake, like they made me. I relate to the sun with how bright and hot it feels, at times I've been happy in my life, that at times I wanted to be bright and smother other's with my heat of happiness like the sun. And the moon is a peaceful reminder, that a new day awaits me, and I don't feel so lonely anymore because I found comfort in the weather. Even when a tornado and hurricane hit my side of the world, I don't feel sadness anymore because, like tornado and hurricanes I too have wanted to be one and destroy things. I relate to nature in many ways. My cat Lonnie, understands me better than most and curls up to me at night after a long day at the restaurant, and having people curse and throw their food at me. Lonnie is a reminder that animals are sometimes better than us humans. But I also have some human friends, their names are Daniel, Molly, and Billy, they bring me comfort, they come over often... we have tea and sometimes eat shitty frozen pizza and gossip. Daniel likes green tea and often tells me how pretty I am and gives me hugs.. he's a nice guy. I'd love to be with him but I think he kind of likes someone else more. Molly is the prettiest and nicest girl I've met, she and I do each other's makeup, we chit chat about guys her favorite food is cookies and we often make them together. And then there's Billy he's the group's comedian, he's always making me laugh after a long work at the restaurant. He's a cutie and loves pizza. We normally hang out after I get home from work, their waiting usually at my house. They comfort me and tell me to keep hanging on, even when I've become so depressed. Besides Lonnie their my best friends.. but I don't tell anyone about them because I'm afraid other people would take them away from me, and be their best friends... I don't wanna lose my best friends. ''Mrs. Love I'm afraid you have schizophrenia, I'm gonna refer you to a specialist.'' The doctor spoke. ''But doc, please don't take away my friends , I swear there is no voices in my head.. they're the only people I've ever loved, you're the crazy one. *I'm afraid to live without my ''friends'' doctor...


The Machine “Turn that off, Billy, it’s time for bed.” Billy turned away from the hologram projection on the wall, still showing a clip of a cheetah running through tall grass, to see his mother. She wore a grey nightgown, her hair disheveled. Billy thought she looked exhausted. But he wasn’t tired at all. He didn’t know why she always insisted he go to bed so early. There was nothing to wake up for in the morning anyway. “Fine, mom. But first I’m going to go see dad in his work room.” “I don’t know why he’s still wasting time in there with that stupid machine. But okay, you can go see him, and then after that it’s straight to bed.” “You got it. Goodnight, mom.” Billy clicked off the projector and began to move toward the hallway, a long narrow passage leading away from the living room with doors on each side. He could have reached his dad’s work room with his eyes closed, he spent so much time pacing back and forth through the apartment. He hasn’t been allowed to leave in more than four years, ever since the epidemic broke out. His mom always told him he was lucky to be healthy. But stuck in this one-floor apartment, 20 stories above ground with no windows to the outside world, he didn’t feel lucky. The one window they had before gave him a view of the city. He used to look out and see hundreds of grey buildings shooting out of the dark surface like spikes. He would imagine the thousands of other kids sitting there looking back at him. He looked toward where the window used to be, but now it was filled with a large, black box that protruded into the apartment. It was where the drones would drop off food and other necessities. The city had installed this drone delivery system after the epidemic began, because it was no longer safe for people to go outside without hazmat suits. The virus that spread throughout the city was fatal not only to humans, millions of whom had died, but it killed all of plants and animals it touched, leaving the city a barren wasteland. Billy barely had any memory left of the grass and flowers and trees that had once filled the city. He was still able to watch nature scenes in his projections, but it wasn’t the same. Looking through the half-open door into his dad’s room, he envied the man. As part of the engineering team tasked with maintaining the drone delivery system, his dad was allowed to go outside. He had to wear a bulky, full-body hazmat suit, but it would still be worth it. Billy imagined the excitement of walking around somewhere other than his apartment. “What are you doing there buddy?” his dad turned around to see Billy looking in through the door. The short boy standing in the doorway showed boredom in his face, with a hint of sadness. “Just watching you work,” Billy mumbled. “It’s better than going to sleep.” “Well it is time for bed, Billy.” “I know. But I’m not tired. Can’t I watch you work for just a few minutes?” “I guess a few minutes won’t hurt anyone. Besides, I think I’ve had a breakthrough with the machine.” An excited smile crept onto his dad’s face as he looked back at the machine, a hulking metal box the size of a refrigerator with a large opening in the front. Flashing blue lights inside the box lit up the tangle of thin wires lining its walls. Suddenly Billy perked up, with an unusual tinge of excitement in his voice. “Really? Does it work now? Can you travel back in time?” “Well, it’s still too dangerous for a human test, but I think I may have solved an issue that was preventing the wormhole from staying open. I still need to perform a series of diagnostics to test out its stability, but if all goes well I think I should be able to give it a try by next month.” “Next month? But that’s so far away.” “It’s worth taking my time Billy. This may be my only chance. If it malfunctions, I could get stuck in the wormhole, or trapped back in time.” “Where in time would you be trapped?” “I’m only planning to go back five years, to 2055. That way I can kill the virus at its source before it spread into an epidemic. That could save millions of lives.” “But couldn’t you go back farther if you wanted? To see what the world used to look like in the old days?” “Well, theoretically, yes. If it works for 2055 it should work for whatever year I plug into the controller.” He glanced at a black remote sitting on his work table with a series of buttons and a dimly lit blue display screen. “But for now my only goal is to stop the epidemic so things can go back to the way they were before. Anyway, that’s enough questions Billy. It’s time for bed.” “Ugh, fine.” Billy sighed, dejected. The machine had momentarily excited him with a curiosity he seldom feels. Everything else in the apartment was old and boring, with no opportunity for any sort of adventure. But he knew his dad wouldn’t let him use the machine. He would say it was too dangerous. Billy dragged his feet back out the door, his dad following him and flicking the switch to turn off the light in the work room. “I should be going to bed too,” his dad said under his breath. “I need to sleep on this. Need to consider what the breakthrough could mean before I move to the testing phase.” Wanting to ask another question but deciding against it, Billy shuffled through the hallway into his room, one door down from his dad’s work room. He closed the door, turned off the lights and plopped into his bed. It was pitch black in his room as he stared up at the ceiling, but Billy couldn’t fall asleep. He wasn’t even tired before, and now his mind raced with thoughts of the machine. Could it really take you back in time? Where could you go? What would the world look like? Minutes passed, and then hours. Billy had no idea what time it was, but he still couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep. His imagination soared with all of the people and places he could see if he tried using the machine. His dad said he had a breakthrough and solved the issue, so shouldn’t it work now? Billy’s curiosity became too much for him to bear. He crept out of bed and pulled on his slippers. Then he quietly opened the door and tiptoed over to the door of his dad’s workroom. Slowly, he turned the doorknob, careful not to let it make a sound. Then he cracked the door open just enough for him to squeeze inside and gently closed it behind him. The room was dark except for lights from the machine, still flashing bright blue. He used the dim glow to find the switch and turn on the main overhead light. It lit up the whole room, but Billy’s eyes remained fixed on the machine. Staring at it now without his dad working on it, the rectangular box didn’t look so complicated anymore. All he needed to do was grab the remote, get into the machine and press a few buttons. But what if his dad was right and it didn’t work? What if he got stuck somewhere? Billy felt a moment of hesitation. Then he thought about the last four years, trapped in his apartment, no one to talk to and no where to go, and realized it couldn’t be much worse. He gathered his courage and grabbed the remote from the table. Grasping the remote with his left hand, he took three steps forward until he was face to face with the machine. Before stepping in, he looked down at the watch on his hand. It read 2:00. It was two in the morning. Billy knew his dad wakes up at six, so he had to make sure that wherever he went, he got back before then. He lifted up his left foot and placed it into the machine. Holding onto the side with his right hand, he pulled himself into the refrigerator-sized box. It was cramped, but his fully body fit inside. He took a quick glance around at the wires and lights before looking down at the remote. There were ten buttons with small white numbers, a green button that read ‘GO,’ a red button that read ‘RETURN,’ a spinning dial and the display screen. With his fingers he tapped the buttons 2-0-2-0. Then spun the dial, not sure what it was for, and pressed the green button. Suddenly, the lights and wires disappeared. For a second, everything was black. And then he began to spin. As he rotated faster and faster, he saw flashes of blue light, then green and yellow. Billy closed his eyes and screamed, not knowing where he was or where he was going. The next thing Billy knew, he had been dropped outside somewhere onto a concrete sidewalk, landing hard on his feet. The bright light blinded him. “WATCH OUT!!!” Just as Billy turned to where the shout came from, a bicycle crashed into him. It knocked Billy to the ground, and the remote flew out of his hand onto the sidewalk. He looked up from where he lay on the ground and saw a boy who looked around his age, but with darker skin and shorter hair, had fallen off the bicycle. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! I tried to stop!” The boy stood up and walked over to examine Billy. “Are you okay?” “Yeah ... yeah I’m fine.” Billy touched his arms and legs and nodded back at the boy. “Where did you come from anyway? I could have sworn you just appeared out of nowhere.” “Uh ... I ... I don’t know. Where am I?” “What do you mean where are you? You’re in D.C., stupid.” “D.C.?” Billy looked around, and with his eyes adjusting to the light, suddenly he saw the world around him clearly for the first time. He was awestruck. The sidewalk where he sat stood on the edge of a wide field of bright green grass. He had never seen anything like the vast, green field that lay before him. Tall, bushy trees lined the field, and he could see groups of people walking on sidewalks on both sides. He followed the grass into the distance and his eyes came upon a large, white obelisk shooting into the sky. “What’s that?” Billy asked “Uh, the Washington Monument,” the boy studied Billy. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “I told you, I’m fine.” Suddenly Billy remembered the remote and shot up, running over to where it had fallen. He picked it up, and it appeared to still be intact, nothing broken. “What’s that thing?” the boy asked him. “Just a toy I dropped. Don’t worry about it.” Billy tucked it into his pocket and thought for a second. “This is my first time here. Can you show me around?” “Sure, I guess so. I was just riding around, I’ve still got some time before my curfew. What do you want to see?” Billy looked around, unsure of what else there was to see but amazed at the color green he saw everywhere. “All of the grass,” he said. “And the trees.” The boy looked puzzled. “All of the grass? Well I suppose I can take you to see this whole area, this is called the National Mall. Here, hop on these pegs on the back of my bike.” As the boy pulled up his bike and got on, he pointed to two short poles that jutted out of each side of the back wheel. Billy put his feet on the pegs and grabbed the boy by the shoulders. “What’s your name, anyway?” the boy asked him. “Billy. My names Billy.” “Nice to meet you Billy. I’m Michael. Now hold on tight while I take us around the mall.” Michael began to pedal. They started off slowly and then sped up as Michael pedaled faster. Billy felt the wind blowing his hair back and he squinted his eyes and smiled. He looked around at the green grass. He saw people sitting and reading. Two kids with gloves on their hands threw a ball back and forth. He saw a bird fly by and looked up at the bright blue sky. He felt a rush of excitement run through his body. “This place is incredible!” Billy shouted. “Eh, it’s okay. It gets too hot and humid sometimes, and there are lots of mosquitoes.” “But you have all of this grass! And the wind! I can’t believe you get to live here!” “Sure, whatever you say,” Michael responded. “Here come look at this.” Michael slowed down and stopped the bike next to the edge of a wide pool of water. Billy looked down and the pool stretched a long distance down to a rectangular, stone monument with columns across the front. Kneeling down to the water, Michael plunged his hand in and then quickly splashed the water so it sprayed all over Billy. “Hey!” Billy was surprised but laughing. He reached his own hand down into the water and pulled it back out. As the pool settled he saw a reflection of his face looking back at him, pale, round and smiling. Then a noise came from Michael’s pocket. He pulled out a small device and looked at it. “It’s my mom. She says I have to come home now. If you ever want to find me, I live near the corner of 10th Street and Franklin Street, Northeast. I usually hang out in the park there. It was nice to meet you Billy.” Michael got back on his bike and pedaled off, leaving Billy alone by the water. He wasn’t sure where to go. He walked back over to the grass and sat down. Crossing his legs in front of him, he picked blades of grass and put them in his lap. Minutes passed as Billy played with the grass, and then he remembered to check his watch. It read 3:00. It had only been one hour. But still, Billy thought he had enough excitement for one night and decided he should try to get home and back in bed before his dad wakes up. Pulling the remote out of his pocket, Billy paused for a second before pressing the red “RETURN” button with his thumb. Suddenly, Billy vanished from the grass. Thrust back into the spinning vortex that had brought him there, Billy felt unsettled, but not as scared as before. He closed his eyes so it would go by quicker. The next thing he knew, he was dropped back into the machine with a force so great that he fell out and toppled onto the floor, landing with a thud. “What was that noise?” He heard his dad shout from his room. His heart pounding, Billy quickly returned the remote to the table, snuck out the door and closed it behind him. “Just me, sorry dad! I was going to the bathroom and tripped on my way back.” “It sounded loud. Are you okay?” his dad’s voice coming from his room sounded calmer but still slightly concerned. “Yes, I’m fine. Goodnight dad.” “Okay, goodnight Billy.” Feeling relieved, he opened the door and returned to his room. As he laid down, his heartbeat slowed and his mouth rested into a soft grin. Exhausted, Billy fell right to sleep.


In the year 2140, humanity had received our first message from the stars. It was an accidental message, a leaked signal from the beginning of the radio era from an up and coming civilization. Humanity had begun using direct signals instead of less efficient broad signals, so this planet would never see us unless we called out to them. We learned that they called themselves the Dukra, and they were so full of hope for their future. Their solar system had 7 planets, 4 of which were rocky, and 2 of which showed signs of liquid water. Being that they were 110 light years away, our first message would not reach them for 110 years, and it would take 220 years before we would hear a response. Researchers developed a message that would be easy for a younger civilization to translate, and then, using a powerful radio beam, our message was sent in their direction. Humanity sat by, waiting for a reply while they watched this new civilization grow. They listened to the transmissions, which weren't always peaceful, but it was clear this species was doing the best they could. The news was regularly flooded with images from this new world, amazing sights with glowing blue animals, purple plants, and a red sun which appeared large in their light orange sky. Their people were also much different from humans. They had tentacles reaching out from all sides which would allow them to roll instead of walking like a human, and the tip of each tentacle had a fluff of fur which protected their skin from the ground. We don't know much about their senses, but our researchers know that they can see and hear because their transmissions include audio, video, and another stream of data which hasn't yet been decoded. Some believe we haven't decoded this data, because we lack a sense that this data carries, we don’t know what that sense could be, so the researchers are unsure how to translate it. After watching their civilization grow for 98 years, their high pitch guinea pig-like voices became normal to us, and it felt as though they were already close friends. We knew much about them and their civilization, and we saw a lot of similarities between us and them, but we also saw a gradual increase in their hostility. It seemed that many in this civilization disagreed with the aggression, but a tipping point had been reached, and a few that held power were determined to fight. The dam of peace had been broken, and with it, the waters of war rushed forth. With the vastness of space on their doorstep, instead of claiming land on other worlds, the Dukra chose to fight their own kind for small patches of land on their planet. With the signal delay, this war had happened 110 years before we were seeing it, so our scientists could do nothing to help them. As we waited and watched, the radio signals from this planet rapidly lit up with images of our fluffy tentacle friends lying on the ground in pools of their own dark green blood. The organic buildings they constructed lay in piles of rubble while explosions blast around them. Chaos was now all that they knew. We wanted to tell them that this universe held more than they could possibly imagine, we wanted to guide them to reignite the hope that we once saw in them, but our message would need 12 more years to reach them. Their weapons grew stronger as their population weakened. It was clear that they had fallen far from hope. Three years after the chaos began, it ended. There were a few more passing signals until 2243, but they contained only audio, no more video or third signal. The spectral imaging of their atmosphere showed that the elements they exhale had vanished. They were gone now, and in 2250, our message fell on a dead world. Once again, humanity was alone in the cosmic darkness. We had stored all of the recordings from that time, and although our friends were gone, human researchers continued to study this data. They learned that the Dukra would vibrate a certain frequency depending on their emotions. The third signal contained this emotion vibration data. They would gently shake with joy, and vibrate faster with fear. In the end, when the bombs were being dropped, they were all very afraid. The only ones without fear were their leaders. They had undoubtedly seen the videos of their wars, and felt the fear of their people. And although they had seen the pain and destruction they were causing, they still chose to continue. The emotional signals from their leaders showed greed, lust, and confidence. They continued to fight, because they believed there was a chance they could win, but it's impossible to win when you're fighting yourself.


She walked past her room and to his. Standing at the doorway, she leaned against it and smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched as he rolled around in bed, whining for her to come over and give him the cuddles that he was promised for doing such a good job with chores. She watched as his face lit up when he saw her and reached his arms out for her. She couldn't help but let out a chuckle but that stopped when she was brought back to reality by the unusually loud rain droplets hitting the window. It was windy that night. The coldness settled quite well with the silence, giving her the eerie sense of loneliness. She sighed and walked into the kitchen. Going to the fridge, she got herself a bottle of water. Opening the cap, she felt a chill run down her spine. She stopped and looked towards the entrance of the kitchen and she saw him again. She just gave in and decided to enjoy these little..... Moments of flashbacks that she was having. It was all bright and happy now with him right there. She couldn't even hear the rain. She smiled with tears brimming her eyes, seeing him in the memory. He walked to her from behind and scared her once before holding her close. Giving her kisses on her cheeks, he told her how much he loved her and how much he missed her while he was at work. She watched herself (in the memory) turn to him and give him a tight hug. She always did that whenever he had a long day and just needed to relax. She played with his soft hair, whispering to him how grateful she was to have him and how proud she was of him. Perhaps, she didn't notice it then but she definitely did now. The little falter in his smile. She placed the water bottle back inside the fridge and went to the study room. Their work room. She sat down at her desk and looked to the side where she saw him working. Another memory. He always looked attractive when he worked. It was no denying that him focusing was definitely something she could admire for days. Giving her a sweet smile, he reached out and held her hand with one of his own as he continued to work with the other. He was just caring like that. She leaned over to take a peak at what he was doing and he covered her eyes. Whenever he told her that peeking was bad, she would just pout. This always sent him into a mini panic. He would stop whatever he was doing and just go hold her. He knew it comforted her and it really did. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. She wanted to be in those arms again. She wanted to feel the comfort and warmth again. But she couldn't. She had lost it. Forever. Going into the living room, she could almost hear the words slipping past her lips with no control. She wished and hoped that she could take very single one of those words back but she couldn't. She regretted it and she still does. She remembered how he just had a small smile on his face as he listened to her yell at him for not switching off the lights and fans when they were not in use. Of course, this had ticked her off at the time but now, she knew why. He probably loved it. He probably loved the fact that he would get to hear her yell at him one last time before he would be gone. Regardless, she was mad at him now too. She was mad at him for not telling her and for hiding it from her that he would be gone soon. Very soon. She felt her knees buckle aa she fell onto the ground, sobbing. One of her hands covered her eyes as she let out a heart broken yell into the void. There was no one to tell her that everything would be alright. She didn't even get to say her goodbye. She didn't get to tell him how much he meant to her and how much he did to save her. From the world and herself. She didn't get to tell him how grateful she was that she had met him. She didn't get to tell him that he was the sunshine in her life. He probably didn't wish for it to happen on her birthday. He probably felt so sad and angry at himself too. She felt so useless for not being able to comfort him at that moment of time. She felt worthless for not being able to see it or even sense it. Her nails dug into the wooden floors as she felt the pain coursing through her. One of her hands came up to clutch at her chest. She could feel the heaviness in her heart. It brought her down. She remembered the times he told her to not lose hope but now that he was gone, she had no hope left. He took it with him. Her smile, her laughter, her joy, her happiness, her entire life was gone with him. He was gone. She was not prepared for this farewell.


It was 2am when Pot presented himself at Owen’s bed. It was a queen-size bed, which is rather a large bed for a 7-year-old boy. However, it did not look out of place in Owen’s considerable bedroom. The bed was decorated with a Harry Potter duvet, which complimented Owen’s Harry Potter pyjamas. Pot is a sprite. He is 2 feet tall with the same anatomy as a human. A constant grin stretched across his sharp facial features. His whole being appeared to be made of an icy translucent white light. It was as though he was being projected. “Wakey wakey,” whispered Pot directly into Owen’s ear. Most children would scream at the sight of a ghostly sprite within face-biting distance, but not Owen. Here is a child that has spent the entirety of his seven years within his own head. A head that contains magic, mythical creatures and all manner of fantasy. This is a child who needs to be called at least three times by his mother before his focus leaves the world of fantasy. A child who received the magic set he had craved for Christmas. As an only child of affluent parents, he got most of the presents he wanted. This wasn’t some high-street rubbish, this was the best magic set that a father, desperate to please, could find after several weeks of searching. He went on to perform the magic. Of course, such a child has no interest in instructions so his parents were required to look away as Owen made the coin ‘magically’ disappear. “Child, I’m looking for a skilled warrior to help me in my quest to uphold the good and vanquish the bad. Do you know of such a warrior?” said Pot. Owen managed to lift an eye lid. “Aye. I could be a warrior. I know kung fu.” The grin across Pot’s face stretched implausibly further. “You’re amazing. I could tell from the moment I saw you that you have the potential to be a great hero.” Owen lifted his head. His cheek was connected to his pillow by a string of saliva. He managed to lift the second eyelid. “Who are you?” “Great question. I am Pot. The Sprite. I fight on the side of goodness but I cannot do it on my own. I need the help of a great hero such as yourself.” Owen managed to get himself completely upright. He started to feel the chill and so stretched for his comfy grey dressing gown. When Owen pulled the hood over his head it made him look like a wizard with long grey locks, which covered his own shaggy tussled blonde hair. Owen started life with blonde hair. If he was like the other men in his family, Owen was around a year away from his hair darkening and settling into mousy maturity. He turned on the light, which illuminated his loft-converted bedroom. It was the largest bedroom in the house. It was situated on the other side of the house to his parents, which was beneficial for his mother and father as they couldn’t hear his yells as he played with his toys, of which there were many in all areas of the room. The walls were decorated with space-themed wallpaper but you couldn’t see much of it as it was covered with movie posters. Owen had a good look at Pot. He stretched out to shake Pot’s hand. Pot moved backwards just as Owen’s hand reached Pot’s fingers. Owen’s fingers passed straight through Pot’s fingertips as if they were a hologram. “Are you magic?” asked Owen. “Another great question, young adventurer. I am indeed magic. I believe you are magic too. In a way. And I believe you have the necessary characteristics required to defeat the agents of evil. There is one such monster present here tonight. Are you brave enough to help me defeat this beast?” Owen straightened himself and tied the belt on his dressing gown before saying, “Let’s do it.” “The creature we must defeat is a grizzly bear. Each monster has a weak point that we must exploit. This monster is particularly fierce...” Pot noticed that Owen was fidgeting and wiping his clammy palms on his dressing gown. “You’re not scared, are you?” “No. I want to fight. It’s my destiny!” “Wow! You’re a natural. I’m very impressed. The grizzly’s weak point is being confronted by his own reflection.” Without hesitation, Owen said, “I know what we can use! There’s a mirror on my wall.” “Fantastic idea, but do you think it will work?” “Yes,” said Owen and without having a clue, “it will absolutely work.” Owen dangerously climbed on top of three toy boxes that he had stacked and gently removed the mirror from the picture hooks that were embedded in the wall. He was doing so well. He reverse stepped down from the boxes but just as he was going to place the mirror against the wall it slipped from his grasp. The frame hit the floor. Cracks spread up the mirror on impact. To stop it from clattering on the floor and waking his parents, Owen dived at the falling mirror and cushioned the fall with his hands. Large shards of mirror fell out of the frame. Owen carefully withdrew his left hand. It was unhurt. He then withdrew his right hand to discover it was spurting out blood. Shock started at his feet and raised like a wave throughout his body. “Let me look at that brave lad,” said Pot. Owen stretched out his arm and pointed his bloody fingers towards Pot. He turned his head away. Tears surfaced in his eyes as he suppressed his wails. Owen felt a sensation like no other he had felt before. His hand felt moist and warm, hot even, but not painfully so. Owen managed to turn his head and face his outstretched arm. In disbelief, he brought his hand close to his face. The blood had gone. “Not so bad after all. Warrior,” said Pot. Owen took his focus away from his formerly injured hand and squinted his eyes in the direction of Pot. He looked different. It was as if he was a whiter white. As if he had gone up on the scale of whites at a fancy paint manufacturer. Farrow and Ball would say he had gone from “strong white” to “Wimborne white”. “Get the mirror ready. Hold it out in front of you,” said Pot as he placed his hands on the bedding. Owen did as he was told. He placed one of his socks over his hand and picked up a shard. He began to feel nerves. “In 3, 2...” Owen noticed that Pot was somehow now able to clutch the material of the bedding. He also began to wonder how a grizzly bear could fit under the bed. “1!” Pot drew back the bedding. Owen winced with his sight partly obscured by the shard of mirror that he held outstretched in front of him as if it were a shield. He glanced with one eye but couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was his Winnie-the-Pooh soft toy, which he hadn’t seen for so long that he had forgotten that he ever had it. Owen looked at Pot to see if this was some sort of joke. For the first time Pot’s face was not adorned with a grin. He looked serious. Scared even. He started to realise that this was some sort of game that Pot had set up. He had a choice: confront Pot and say that this was just an old Winnie-the-Pooh toy; or play along and battle Winnie as if he was a real grizzly. Only one of those choices would lead to fun. “Charge,” whispered Owen as he lunged towards the stuffed toy bear. He wrestled with the bear. Rolling around on the carpet with the toy animal clutched in his arms. He rolled this way and that while trying to keep an eye on the sprite to gauge if he was impressed. “Careful, stay away from his jaws,” advised Pot. Owen wrestled some more before kicking away Winnie. The bear landed in a seated position. Owen brought the shard of broken mirror up to the bear’s eyes. “Shield your eyes,” said Pot. Both Owen and Pot covered their eyes with their arms. They froze in that position for a few seconds and then in unison looked up at the bear. Winnie remained unanimated. Pot’s enormous grin had returned. “That was amazing.” Owen crawled over to Winnie. He carefully lifted the bear’s right arm. He let go. It flopped down by his side. “He’s dead.” “You truly are fulfilling your potential as a great soldier. You did it.” “Is that it? Have we defeated evil?” “Well... we have defeated that one evil monster.” “There’s more?” asked Owen. “You have probably had enough adventures for one evening.” “No. I can battle on. I have stamina.” “Well there is one more monster nearby but we would need to lasso it like a cowboy capturing a wild stallion. And in order to create a lasso we need rope and I just don’t think a 7-year-old boy would have a rope in his bedroom.” Owen scanned the bedroom in the hope of seeing some rope. He couldn’t. “Perhaps we fashion a lasso,” said Pot. Owen looked around. “Could we cut up the curtain and use the fabric?” asked Owen. “Although, it is of course a great idea, we just don’t have the time. We need something that is already a long rope type piece of fabric.” Pot looked towards Owen midriff. “I’ve got it. Let’s use my dressing gown belt.” “Warrior lad, you are a genius. I’m very impressed.” Pot explained to Owen how to make the lasso in great detail. He told Owen how to place into an ‘s’ shape and then pinch and wrap the rope into shape. He pulled it tight as instructed. “Tell me about the monster,” said Owen. “Look over there. He is on top of the wardrobe.” Owen looked over and knew straight away that the sprite was gesturing to the Buckaroo mule. Owen did not have an inkling where the mule’s box was, or indeed any of the other contents of the box such as the saddle or the small plastic lamp that you dangled from the saddle while avoiding the buck. “He is a violent and very powerful beast. Although you have shown great strength, it is going to be very difficult for a boy of your age to out-muscle the monster. I suggest you secure one end of the lasso.” Doing as he was told, Owen placed a chair atop his bed, which he proceeded to climb. He precariously bobbed around on top of the chair as he unscrewed the star-decorated light shade and attached the belt loop, which he had been instructed to make, to the light fitting. He pulled it tight. Pot was clearly pleased with Owen’s effort. “Now, we only have one attempt to capture the awful beast, so you must test the lasso. Put the loop over your head and down around your neck.” Owen obliged. “Pull it tighter... Tighter still... Tighter...” As the boy had been tricked to tie the noose tight enough around his neck, the malevolent sprite mustered all his might to push the chair off the bed, leaving the boy dangling and helpless. As Owen kicked out his legs in all directions, Pot assumed the lotus position beneath the child. Pot began chanting. Owen tried to scream for help but he couldn’t force any sounds out of his mouth. He was confused and couldn’t understand. At the moment of Owen’s demise, the light that filled Pot’s being drifted upwards leaving his small remains in a heap, a bit like the leftovers from a snake when it sheds its skin. The cool white light entered the boy’s deceased body. The boy’s eyes opened. He lifted his arms and grabbed the light fitting. He was able to exert enough strength to lift his body in the air to stop the strangulation. He unscrewed the light fitting and fell backwards onto the bed. The boy mostly had the same appearance as he did before his untimely death. Except he now had a slight ungodly glow about him and a grin that seemed unhealthily large. The boy sat up. He loosened and then took the belt from around his neck. He chuckled as he threw the belt towards the inanimate plastic Buckaroo mule. He stood, took off his dressing gown and straightened his pyjamas. He put on a pair slippers. He bent down and picked up the pointiest bit of broken mirror that he could see. He walked over to the bedroom door and opened it. In a perfect imitation of Owen, he shouted as if in distress.


Charlie sat on the annoyingly uncomfortable fancy sofa, failing to loosen his tie. “Carter, do you know why my mother drags me around to all of these gatherings?” He leaned his head back onto the couch and turned to look at Carter, his hired bodyguard, who was standing against the wall of the right side of the couch, keeping Charlie and the nearest door in his line of view the way he always did. “Still following the rules, huh? Y’know, I’m sure you’re a lovely, hilarious, person underneath all that brooding.” He paused, but Carter just blinked at him. “Why is that a rule, anyway? I mean, my mother is paying you to keep us safe, in my opinion she just needed someone else to babysit her untrustable son, but anyway, I basically just annoy you all day, so why don’t you get to annoy me? You should at least be allowed to tell me to shut up sometimes.” Carter did start to laugh at that, and Charlie got excited because he looked like he was finally going to break that rule and say something to him. “My goodness that took forever. So sorry to keep you waiting, boys.” His mother, the Lacy Charis, announced as she burst into the room. The tall woman paused in front of a mirror behind the couch to straighten her hair, and as Charlie stood up he muttered one more thing to his friendly body guard, “I am going to get you to talk one of these days. When do you think it’ll happen?” Carter just smiled back at him, “Shall we?” his mother called. Charlie hid his disappointment well, but not before letting out another defeated sigh. He stood up and walked around the couch to his mother’s side, failing to swat her hands away as she tried to fix his tie. Then, finally, she took his arm and they glided out the door together. Lacy never seemed to walk, she simply glided across the floor, letting her dress or skirt flit around her ankles like leaves in a gentle summer breeze. Carter walked behind them with his boss, Mr. Hartmann, silently watching the pair complain about the obligatory fancy luncheon they were hosting. Mr. Hartmann jabbed at him with an elbow. Focus! His eyes seemed to scream. The event wasn’t meant to be a big spectacle, simply a meeting of friends and investors, but there were too many significant people present for it to not be a public spectacle. There were cameras and reporters clogging the driveways, attempting to force their way through the crowds and police keeping them at bay. Carter kept his distance as he followed Charlie around the room, but as soon as he noticed the silhouette in the window he was sprinting to his side. Carter got to Charlie not a second too soon, as the boy began to turn to see what the problem was, the window where the silhouette was moments before was shattered, and debris flew inside like it had been shot from a gun. Carter pulled Charlie out of immediate danger, dragging him away from the fray before the initial screams had stopped. It didn’t take long for Charlie to follow without question, he knew it would be better for everyone if he did. As they rushed down the hallway, another explosion rang out, knocking them both to the ground. Carter recovered first, being used to similar situations, and carefully pulled Charlie with him in a swift change of direction. Instead of heading towards the “panic room,” or as Charlie liked to refer to it, the “oh shit room,” they darted for the garage. They avoided another explosion father down the hallway in a section they would have run through, and once they got to the garage Carter flung open the door to the least flashy and conspicuous vehicle in sight. He didn’t check for keys, and instead hot wired the car then and there. Charlie silently watched from the passenger seat, processing each of the events from moments ago, and the one currently happening. It wasn’t until Carter started driving that either one of them spoke. “What... the... FUCK!” Charlie exclaimed, turning his head on Carter, who drove away from the mansion like it was his job, “Where the hell did you learn to do that?” The car is what he’s freaking out about? Dammit Charlie, someone just tried to blow you up! Repeatedly! Carter thought, “I can hot wire more than a car.” Was all he replied with for the time being. Charlie blinked in shock again, Carter’s voice was definitely not what he was expecting. He wasn’t what Charlie was expecting. It’s... kinda hot. He thought, looking straight out the windshield. “Not gonna ask about what just happened?” Carter cautiously asked, glancing at his passenger a few times. Charlie shook his head, “If you knew you would have let me get blown up.” Carter’s brow furrowed, “Well... not necessarily...” Charlie stared at him with a deadpan expression and Carter turned back to the road, pursing his lips. If I do tell him... Once they were a few miles away from the mansion and it was confirmed that they weren’t being followed, Carter let himself not drive like a crackhead. Charlie had leaned his seat back slightly and appeared to be trying to get some sleep. Smart. Carter thought. He drove them into the next town over, parking in the driveway of a small diner. “In the mood for lunch?” He asked. Charlie shrugged, “I could use some food.” He was getting his usual playful air back, but there was definitely more intensity his reactions to everything, as if he were analyzing everything that everyone did. Before they got out of the car looking too disheveled and recognizable as out-of-place, they took of their ties and sport coats, leaving them in the backseat and unbuttoning the top few buttons of their shirts at an attempt to look more natural. With an exchanged nod they got out of the car and walked inside, seating themselves in a small, two-person, booth. “So. What’s the plan?” Charlie asked calmly, picking up his menu a few inches off the table. Carter watched him for a second before responding, “Well we don’t really know what that whole ordeal was about, so I figured we could head to my buddy Nick's house. It’ll be safer to try and contact your mother from there, and no one will know where we’re going, so we can lay low for a little while if we have to.” Charlie nodded, “Sounds good.” “Hello, what can I get for you today?” the waitress politely asked when she walked up. “Small stack of pancakes and a glass of water, please.” Charlie smiled, handing her his menu. Carter did the same, and when the waitress walked away he began speaking again, “Charlie, there is something else you should know if you’re going to blindly trust me again.” “I’m not blindly trusting you,” Charlie replied, “but go on.” He swallowed, “I can manipulate certain forms of natural matter.” A moment of awkward silence passed, “There are others who can, too, and I’m pretty sure one or more of them just tried to kill one or both of us.” Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay... why do you say that? And can you give an example, or something?” Carter wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not, “Uh, yeah sure.” He focused on his water glass, forcing warmth into the liquid it and causing it to steam. Then he drew the heat back out and let the glass condense. “Oh,” Charlie sat back, any and all of his doubts diminished, replaced with a large variety of other questions. Carter offered a weak smile, “I think it might be part of the reason you - we - were attacked. It’s kind of like an underground society that’s at war with itself. Those of us that know each other either get along or don’t, and sometimes conflicts arise.” “But?” “But I’ve never heard of anything quite like this before. It’s too risky, if someone discovers one of us then we’re all damned, and attacking with that many cameras around, on top of all the people who were there? I don’t know, something just seems off.” Carter responded. It made sense. There was no fire or gas or anything like that during the explosions, it was more like the debris was being expelled from its initial place by sheer force, which, Charlie realized, it was. “How long has this been a secret?” He asked. Carter looked nervous to respond to the question, “I don’t really know. I’m 26, and the oldest person I know with the ability is 40-something I think, so I guess at least 40 years.” “Uh-huh, and, um, what exactly is it that you and these other people can do?” “Oh, it’s actually pretty simple. We can control different natural elements on a molecular level. The most useful and therefore dangerous is earth, plants and shit, because you can use basic iron ore molecules to pick just about any important lock.” he explained, “The fire element is a little more complicated. Rather than being able to manipulate molecules, we can alter the heat levels, temperatures, of most things, excluding most inanimate solids. It’s what I can do.” Charlie nodded, then the waitress came back with their food and asked if they needed anything else with a very polite smile. Carter declined, watching Charlie’s body language as he thought about everything he had just been told. After all, it’s not every day your body guard comes out as a superhuman and reveals that you’re a potential target for other superhumans. Why did I tell him all of that? WHY DID I TELL HIM ALL OF THAT?! Carter thought, What happens if he decides I’m insane? How can I keep him safe then? Then it hit him, Oh no. I told him just about everything... they’ll want me to kill him! “Well, now that that’s been cleared up. Tell me something about you.” Charlie said, trying to change the subject. Carter narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “...Why?” “Well, you already know just about everything about me from following me around for two years. And you’re allowed to talk to me now.” Charlie replied. Carter blinked, “Maybe start with your first name, Mr. Logan .” Charlie tried, leaning forward playfully. He smiled, “Carter.” Charlie smiled back, God I love his smile. “Carter Logan? Huh, well Carter, tell me about yourself. Likes, dislikes, family. Anything.” His smile fell, “Ah, well, I was stuck in the system until I was 15, so there’s not much to say for family.” Charlie cringed, “Um... what else do you want to know?” “High school?” “_ public school for almost two years.” “Almost?” “Yeah, when I was almost 16 I may or may not have gone to juvy.” Charlie nodded once, raising both of his eyebrows, “ Oh. ” “I didn’t do anything bad, just pissed someone off enough to throw a punch, then pleaded guilty in court so I wouldn’t have to go back to another foster home.” Charlie nodded again, “That’s justified.” The next few minutes passed in intense awkward silence, until the bell at the door dinged as someone walked in. It was a relatively tall man wearing jeans and a flannel t-shirt. He had a small symbolic tattoo on the side his neck, just under the jaw line. “Shit.” Carter mumbled, “Keep your head down and don’t say anything.” He instructed. Charlie did as he was told, listening to the TV that the waitress turned up as the man walked by. “And now we will hear from Mr. Hartmann, the head of security at the Charis Luncheon.” The news reporter said, looking to the side while the cameras switched. “Thank you. Unfortunately, we were not able to defend against this attack because it was caused by several large external explosives. The only currently disclosable information we can offer is a casualty count. There has been 2 deaths and several injuries. The deaths include one of my employees, Carter Logan,” a photo of Carter was then displayed on screen next to Mr. Hartmann. “Welp, time to go.” Carter said, leaving a twenty on the table and beginning to stand up. Charlie followed suit, still carefully listening to the TV. “-died on duty and for that we are ever in his debt. Despite this loss Charles has disappeared from the scene, and our best assumption is that he was kidnapped by the unidentified attackers. The second death-” The door bell chimed as they rushed out. “So you’re dead now and I’m-” “Shit, shit, shit! Get in the car!” Carter interrupted him. Charlie jogged to the driver side with a mischievous smirk, yelling back when Carter paused, stunned. “Well get in the car!” There was barely time for Carter to close the door as they drove out of the parking lot. “Holy shit!” A black sedan followed them onto the street, picking up speed in an attempt to catch up with Charlie’s driving. “I know I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me, but I thought you’d have a bigger vocabulary.”He smiled, breaking just about every rule about driving as he sped down the road. He drifted onto a sudden side street and vanished on another turn, “Did I lose him?” “Uh,” Carter clutched the door handle as he looked over his shoulder and out the back window. “Yea, I don’t see anyone. You can slow down now.” He said anxiously, “I said you can slOW DOWN NOW THERE’S AN INTERSECTION RIGHT THERE!” Charlie smiled wider, dodging a turning car in an intersection and laughing at the chorus of horns that followed. “I said you can slow down! We lost him!” “What are you talking about? She’s right there!” Charlie took a hand off the steering wheel to gesture at a woman with long black hair pulling into a pony tail in the front of an SUV that had just drifted out of a side street and stopped facing them. “SHIT!” Time seemed to slow so that Carter could watch Charlie’s hands move, shifting gears repeatedly to cause a controlled spin-off that he used to drive backwards down the other lane. Still driving backwards, Charlie turned them onto a different side street and into a bank parking lot, turning of the SUV right next to an identical vehicle. “Holy Shit!” Carter yelled again, still clutching the door with one hand and the center console with the other. “You’ve said that already.” “Y-you just... we’re like a mile away from the diner already!” “Mhm.” Charlie nodded once, wondering if he should apologize for all the spinning. Carter swallowed, prying his fingers off the center console. “Now I know why you’re not allowed to drive.” He let go of the door and looked back at Charlie, “Where did you learn to do that?” His smile fell, “Had to get creative to get away from my dad when I was still in high school. Before he went to prison.” Carter winced, he hadn’t meant to bring that up. “Anyway, I’m sure that changes the plan, so where to now?” “You’re right about having to change the plan, after that, especially, Nick won’t be home. We’ll have to go directly to the Nova.” He replied. “What’s the Nova?”Charlie questioned. “Oh, it’s like a base, the location changes randomly every few days. Nick and I are a part of a coalition of sorts, the ‘leader’ is Lita Rogue. It’s a little sketchy, but the current location is the old middle school at the edge of the town.” “Oh, okay. So my old school is now a secret base for illegal superhuman affairs.” Charlie chuckled. “You’re freaking out less than I expected.” Carter commented, dragging out the ‘ou’ in ‘you.’ Charlie shrugged,“Meh, not exactly time to panic about it. Might as well just go with it.” About half an hour later they pulled into the middle school back lot, parking next to a cherry red mustang. “Just saying, I could’ve gotten us here in less than 15 minutes.” Charlie teased, closing the car door. Carter laughed a little as they walked to the door, “I was speeding the whole way here, and it terrifies me to imagine you driving all the way here.” Charlie smiled at him again, holding the door open. The pair made their way to the old conference room, where a table and spinny office chairs were still set up. There was a thin boy with messy black hair sitting in one of the chairs facing away from the door. He was talking to a tall, thin woman with long silver hair in a braided bun on. She was standing on the other side of the room looking out the window. When she turned around she did a double take, “Carter!” The boy spun around, “Dude, I thought you were dead!” “Sure you did, and I thought you were the mayor.” Carter walked over to another chair and made himself comfortable. Charlie followed, unsure of whether or not to introduce himself. “Charlie, this is Lita Rogue and my friend Nick.” “Yo,” Nick waved across the table with one hand. “Hi.” Charlie smiled, “Wait, you call me Charlie?” Carter shrugged, “In my head sometimes.” Lita was amused, “You know, when you were stationed at the _ house I didn’t expect you to actually follow the ‘no talking to the client’ rule.” “HAH!” Charlie pointed excessively at Carter who spun around in his chair. Lita chuckled and Nick laughed, “All joking aside, we need to think. When and where do they think we’ll be?” “Dunno, hard to get in their heads, but it won’t be easy for them to get into ours, either, especially after Charlie’s driving.” Carter answered his real boss. Nick was about to add something before the door flew open, as if being pulled by the copper door knob. “They’re here.” He whispered dramatically, spinning a little and looking out the door. Lita straightened up, walking over to the door with deadly silence. “Nick, go kill the power. Carter, Charlie is your responsibility. Keep him safe, try to see what their infantry looks like.” “Got it.” Nick replied, standing up and darting out the door, relatively quiet for someone wearing denim jeans. Carter stood up, nodding once as Lita walked out the door. Charlie got up too, following Carter out the door as quietly as he could. “Carter, wait.” He put a hand on the other’s arm. “What is it Charlie? This isn’t exactly the best time.” “Where are you planning to go?” Carter’s eyes darted down the hallway once before looking back to Charlie, “I don’t know, main office?” Charlie cringed, “Follow me, library.” He urged his new friend in the opposite direction. It was just down the hallway and to the left, and was one of the largest rooms in the building. Since the schools closing, it had been full of towering empty bookcases and had 2 common exits, not including the shortcut to the gymnasium. Carter carefully closed the door behind them, but a perfectly timed bang sounded with it. Then the PA system pinged on with it, and a resounding voice came through the intercom. “Oh boys~” A woman’s voice said, tauntingly. “I know you’re here, I saw the car. Meet me in the auditorium in 5 minutes or I’ll come find you. And darlings, you do not want me to find you.” Carter gulped, “Shit, alright, what’s the layout? What are out best routes out?” “This way.” Charlie said confidently, walking down two aisles of bookcases before picking the right one. “Hold the bookcase up.” Carter did as he was told, confused the whole time. Charlie scrambled up the 10 foot bookcase and moved one of the ceiling tiles. Both of the doors to the library flung open, and they could hear the woman in the halls. “Come out, come out, wherever you are~ time’s up!” Her voice was increasingly menacing, and got louder as she got closer. “I got it!” Charlie whisper yelled, pushing open an awkward hatch and climbing through it. He poked his head back out through the opening and held the bookcase up for Carter. Once he was through, the woman stepped under the hatch. She held out a hand, and Charlie couldn’t close the trapdoor. Carter flashed a hand and her hand darted to her head. Charlie slammed the door closed and latched it, “What did you do?” He said, standing up and rushing across the roof. “Relax, it was just a hot flash. She’ll be fine.” Carter followed, “Where’s the parking lot, we have to get out of here.” “Why, so they can follow us across town again?” “No, out of the state. The country. Your mother has a house in London, right? We’ll get a message to her and she’ll take a holiday.” Carter proposed. Charlie offered a weak smile from the edge of the roof. “If you think it’s the best plan.” He accepted, jumping. Carter shrugged, jumping with him. “In all honesty, it could be worse there. Probably is, but all that’s left of the Nova Coalition in the US is me, Lita, Nick and Lita’s husband. I’m not the one with something to lose.” Charlie picked a car, “Y’know, when I said I’d get you to talk one of these days I didn’t expect it to be today. Or because someone tried to kill you - us - or because you’re a superhuman.” Carter rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to ignore the guilt tearing apart his subconscious. “I, uh, I’m sorry. You were never meant to get pulled into this mess.” He chose the passenger seat. Charlie sat down in the driver seat of the bright red mustang, “Shit happens.” “The End.” I love you.