I felt chills on my spine. I was sweating so bad I thought I might pass out. I couldn’t make out the figure that was approaching me slowly; I was panicking, why had I agreed to this? I wanted to run so bad but I knew I’d have to pay the price either way. I tried to hide behind a dusty cupboard but my insides flipped out as I felt a cold hand grab my shoulder and cover my mouth before I could shriek for help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ryder “Hey Ryder, wait up,” I stopped short in my tracks as soon as I heard Caden; my best friend, call out to me. I flashed him a smile as I waited for him to catch up. “Whatcha doing?” He asked me, catching his breath as he slowed his pace to match mine. “Nothing much, just regular activities ya know.” I took out my bag which contained my library books I intended to return to the library today. “Wanna do something fun?” He requested. “What do you mean ‘fun’?” I gave him a suspicious look. Caden can be an innocent, sweet boy in front of adults but I knew how he truly was. I would always give him the benefit of doubt before proceeding with anything he tells me. I’m not that gullible, unlike some people I knew who would fall for his gimmicks so easily. “Oh, you know... the usual stuff, I was thinking about playing a bet game,” He made sure to say the ending in his sweet tone, the tone I absolutely despised. “Ahah, what’s the catch?” I knew something was fishy, he always does have a catch. No doubt. “No, there’s no catch, I just got my birthday money so... I was thinking about how to spend it,” As if I asked for proof he pulled out a hundred dollars out of his pocket and waved it in the air. “So?” I shrugged, big deal... he got money, show-off. “So?, So? don’t ya get it?” He mocked me. “No.” I told him, straight-forward. “I will give you a bet, if you win... you get the money.” He brought the money closer to my face; I began to feel overwhelmed and uncomfortable as I stepped back. “If I lose?” I didn’t want to hear it but Caden will just keep bugging me to do something else instead. “Since you’re my friend I’ll have the consequence easy for you, just give me your new Jordan’s... the white one,” I narrowed my eyes at him thinking how much I wanted to punch this guy. I knew he had an eye on my priceless Jordan my dad got me before he died last year. I swore never to be separated from it... ever. I’d never even worn it... too priceless to be damaged. “Dammit.” I swore; I gotta win this challenge, no matter what the consequences turn out to be. “Come on Ry, I know you got this... just imagine what you can do with this.” He was provoking me, I knew it... I could say ‘no’ but what if I were to win? I would lose this big opportunity. Mom was already suffering with paying loans and taxes, Jen; my older sister was searching for a chance to pay up her student loans for college. But I won’t be able to do much with just a hundred. Caden knew me so well as he saw my reason to delay. “Fine, I’ll offer you a thousand then.” My eyes opened up in astonishment, I knew Caden was from a wealthy family but still... I had an easy way to earn so much cash. I knew at that point, I had to bet my Jordans. “Deal.” We shook on it. “What's the task?” I completely forgot to ask what I had to do to earn a thousand dollars. “Don’t fret, it’s super simple... just go to house number 42 and bring my football from their yard, my brother accidentally kicked it there.” “That’s it... wait did you say... number 42?” I bit my lips nervously, this was not going the way I’d expected it to go. “Yes, any problems?” Caden casually asked, of course he didn’t have to worry about anything, it was me who was going in after all. “Nope,” I knew Caden's strategy, he purposely gave me this bet thinking I’d lose either way. You might be wondering what is so scary about that particular house. No one really knows. People say a witch lived there, she was said to be young or at least disguised as one. Everyone talks about her, she used to be a part of our lovely neighborhood too until people saw that her boyfriend was dead. The last place they had seen her boyfriend was with her, in house... number 42. Everyone thought she’d killed him, she was house-arrested for that since there was no proof of her committing a crime but the police wanted to assure everyone was safe. I have never seen the owner of the house. I never dared to go investigate myself to see if the rumors were true. I was scared... I guess. I never wished to admit the truth about me being a scaredy-cat. “But...” I started. “You’re not going to back out, are you?” I paused, was it worth the danger... for a measly thousand dollars? Would I put my own life on the line if this ended bad... but if this ended well. Then what? Nobody had seen this mysterious woman for years so maybe... she’s not there? “No, I’ll do it.” I hoped nothing was waiting for me inside ready to pounce when given the opportunity. I wished God would hear of my dilemma and help me out. Lindsey “Ugh, just leave me alone Cookie.” I shooed my cat away. Cookie yawned as he ran off to the kitchen where there was nothing for him to eat but spoiled milk and dust bunnies. “I HATE my existence,” I yelled to myself, “Why do I have to suffer for a crime I never would have imagined attempting,” I complained. I precisely remembered what had caused this whole misinterpretation. I was just leading my own life, visiting Art Museums, celebrating my nieces birthdays... now, I’m accused of murder... of my own boyfriend. Why in the world would I have something against the one I’d loved so much? He had always been there for me, now he’s not. I was what?... only 18 when the incident happened. Why would a teen be responsible for killing someone she deeply cared about and would give her life in exchange for her loved one? I remembered the blood I’d seen oozing from Ben; my boyfriend. I knew in my own heart I never meant any harm to anyone. I don’t even harm flies, why would I kill him? I didn’t know who dispatched him. One second he was alive, his golden eyes attached to my blue eyes as he told me how much he’d love me, the next second he laid on the ground; dead. I cried so hard as I darted after his murder but neither was I able to catch him or recognize who it was. The neighbors heard my screams as they came over to investigate, thinking I’d killed him they called the cops. I tried to tell them the truth but they never budged, never asked my side of the story. They assumed I was guilty but with a lack of evidence they had me in house-arrest. I was only allowed to go in public once a month for food. They said this might last for years to come until I was able to give more, ‘appropriate evidence.’ Are these people so blinded? Were they always punishing the innocent just to punish someone? To prove their capabilities that they can catch criminals; criminals that are actually guilt-free. People who had their whole lives taken from them, families were separated in this brutal process. Aren’t they taught kindness always goes a long way? Cookie meowed snapping me back to reality. I smiled at the furry creature that had taken a liking with me, my only friend in this wretched world who understands my pain and sufferings. “I know you’re hungry, we’ll go shopping tomorrow,” I assured him as he hurried off to chase a rat for his lunch since I’m incapable of feeding him whenever he feels hungry. I settled down next to a good book; my only book. It was already dusk, I felt as if I’m stuck in a time loop, everyday doing the same things and wishing I could just... die. I’ll be free from being questioned all the time, portrayed as someone I’m not, being looked at as if I’m a monster... I wanted all this to end. I smiled as I flipped through the chapters, rereading parts I didn’t understand the forty-fifth time I’d read it. Just when I was going to read the best part I heard a mellow sound coming from the kitchen. It sounded like... footprints? I placed my book down-side and quietly tiptoed to inspect that I’m not starting to hear things. I was scared out of my mind, what if it was someone with ill intentions... someone who meant harm to me. I carried a spatula I’d found in one of my living room drawers as I approached the noise. I kept low and discreetive as I searched for the culprit. I saw a movements in front of the cupboard. The figure didn’t seem like a serial killer to me, more like a scaredy-cat sort type. If I could just keep my uninvited guest quiet then I’ll be able to make them spill out the facts without any uninvited attention. Without thinking twice I leaped forward and grabbed whoever it was and covered the mouth before it would get me in trouble... again. Ryder I looked at the house, it seemed ordinary to me. Maybe people just made it up to scare kids because it really worked. “You gonna back out?” Caden ridiculed me. “No,” I shouted at him, if anything happened to me, it was gonna be his fault. “Geez, fine.” He waved at me, not wanting to wait for me to enter the house, I regret being so close to. I saw him take his bike and leave me; alone... with a major obstacle that could be the reason I die soon. ‘Well here goes nothing’ I thought to myself. I needed some mental pep talks before approaching my death. ‘I can do this, mom’ll be so happy if I win... if I lose...’ I slapped my forehead. Pep talks are making this harder. ‘God, help me’ was my last thought before approaching the house. Caden had told me where there was an opening I could use to get in. I noticed the crack behind one of the bushes. It seemed big enough for a big dog, I’ll easily be able to fit in. I got on all fours and weakly pulled myself inside, I checked myself again. All in one piece. Good. I searched frantically around the new atmosphere, boy was it freezing inside. I hoped that meant no one was home... unless some witch... ‘Focus Ryder’ I reminded myself uselessly, since I’ll better step up my A game if I wanna make it out alive. I had almost forgotten my whole mission, just blabbering to myself wasn’t helping my situation. I finally spotted the door to the backyard, if only I could be sure. Just then I felt goosebumps on my skin, I looked at my surroundings, searching for the reason for my sudden uneasiness. Suddenly, I realized, I wasn’t alone. I felt the shuffle movements around me. I didn’t have a clue who or what was in this house with me. I had to get that ball and get the heck out of this place... fast. The presence of someone got closer, I had to hide before whatever was out there got to me. I noticed a cupboard, the backside had enough room for me to cram in and be camouflaged... at least until that thing goes away. I felt my heart had stopped beating when someone grabbed my shoulder and covered my mouth before I had time to recollect what had happened. I wanted so bad to scream out of the top of my lungs but I’d lost my voice for a second. I tried to use force against my capturer, it seemed that I was stronger than it as I removed the hand from my mouth and grabbed its hands before facing it with bravery. “Let me go,” I was surprised by the voice, I had expected a monster... some kind of witch or something but all I saw was a girl. She seemed my age; about 20ish with the beautifulest blue eyes, it reminded me of the beach, the peaceful waters with fish flying up splashing me with water, I remembered dad had taken me fishing, it was our last fishing trip together before he left me. Her eyes reminded me of such a good memory. Her blond hair was tied in a tight ponytail, her face seemed flushed with embarrassment. “Hello, can you let me go?” Her voice was like the tinkling of bells on Christmas morning, I had been afraid for nothing. Maybe the rumors were false. She didn’t seem like a murder to me. “Hello?” This time she actually proved she wasn’t some pretty girl but a fighter as she kicked my shin with her leg with as much force as possible for her. “Ow, what’s that for?” I knew the answer but I wanted to hear her calming voice again. “One, you’re trespassing in my property, two... you’re in my house without my permission and three, you dared to touch me?” The last came out like a question but I didn’t mind. “Look I’m sorry, I know this feels like I’m a bad guy but I mean no harm to you ... or your family?” I looked around expecting to see others come in but nobody came. “Are you alone?” I wondered as I looked at her face change from angry to worried and nervousness. Lindsey I was sick of people misusing me some toy they used and threw. Some random guy in my house, questioning me? I rubbed my hands where he held me so tightly, I was afraid it would break. He seemed like a good guy, but is he? I noticed his brown hair for the first time, it sure was messy. I figured it might have been a huge misunderstanding that invited him here. “Are you alone?” he whispered softly, not wanting to provoke me to kick him again I guess. What do I say? I am alone, so what? “Excuse me, why are you in my house?” I totally forgot the whole reason for my outburst; a stranger, in my house? He dreamily looked in my direction, I nervously stepped back which snapped him back to the real world. “I- I needed to get something, my friend’s football is in your yard,” He tried to explain to me. I wasn’t buying it. What a liar, there is no football in my yard. “There is no football here, now leave,” I ordered him in my sternist voice. “Wait, mind if I take a look?” I glazed over his brown eyes, it reminded me of Ben’s. His eyes reminded me of all those good times I’d had before all this mess. “Hello?” He shook me. “Yes, you can look.” I blurted out as I nodded at him. He hesitated to leave my side, I realized it was dark in the kitchen so I turned on the lights. He smiled weakly and left for the yard. I followed him, just be careful not to trust him so easily by judging his dreamy eyes. “What's your name? He asked, looking behind an oak tree. “Lindsay, what’s yours?” “Ryder.” There was a long pause, none of us wanted to speak up. I decided to... like always. “So, how old are you?” He seems around my age, I guessed around 19ish. “I’m turning 21 this month, you?” “I just turned 20,” Dang, I thought he was younger than me. Guess looks mislead me. “Sweet.” He smiled for real this time. “You’re right, there is no ball here, looks like a misunderstanding,” I heard him cuss under his breath as his expression stated that he was extremely mad at someone. I hoped it wasn't me. “I better go, sorry to disturb you,” he kept his distance from me, giving me the benefit of doubt, I assumed. “It’s ok,” I dryly replied. He wavered for a bit, not knowing what to say. “Yes?” “I was just curious, did you really...?” He broke off in the end. “Kill your boyfriend?” He finished, unevenly. “Not you too, why does everyone think I’m guilty?” I wailed, putting my hands on my forehead in annoyance. “No, I didn’t say you’re guilty, I just asked... out of curiosity,” He seemed to be speaking the truth. Should I tell him my side of the story, would he believe me... or think I’m making it all up, like the authorities thought. “Sit down, I’ll tell you everything,” I told him shyly as he sat on the step stool outside, I sat down on the bench. He smiled, walked up to me and sat next to me on the bench, crossing his legs. His eyes twinkling with pleasure that could have made my heart miss a beat. “Go ahead, I believe you,” He took my hand, the hand that could have killed someone... that can kill him and clasped it his own. I didn’t know where to begin, his face illuminated my darkest fears. I felt free for once, I knew hope will always find its way to me. He was my hope. My wish had finally come true...


When I was young, I lived with my family in an old farmhouse. It passed through generations, families adding onto it to suit their needs. My father hadn’t needed to add anything, as our family was rather smaller than those that preceded us. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have much and as a result, I found that I was working on our farm almost all the time. Or it seemed that way to me. But some days, I would be free to go wandering the property unfettered by chores or my siblings. I would take only the family dog, a scruffy mutt named Scout, and we would have adventures of our own. On one such day, we wandered near the edge of the cornfield, where the wood began. I was searching for blackberry bushes when I realized there was a small, hidden path among the shrubs. Naturally, I called Scout over and we set out at once down the path. I had never heard anything from my family about a path on the property, and I was interested to find out where it led. I noticed that it was only just wide enough to walk side by side with the dog. Not that he stayed by my side of course - he wandered about the path, sniffing everything he could fine. The path was strangely clear, considering that it was blocked off, and I’d never heard anyone mention it before. No grass or weeds grew in the packed soil, all the foliage lined the trail neatly to either side. I followed along the path for a few minutes, when the birdsong seemed to grow quieter. Scout’s ears seemed to perk up, and he slowed to a standstill. His nose twitched in the air, sniffing for something. I paused as well, watching to see what Scout had found. He whined very quietly, and his hackles rose. Nervous now, I looked in the direction he was staring. The path continued in a very steady direction, and I could see a long way forward. At the very spot where perspective dims to just a speck, there seemed to be... something. It was impossible to make out what it was, if something was even there at all. My eyes seemed to be playing tricks on me. Scout whined once more, and started to back away. I began to feel unsettled, concerned that Scout had smelled something dangerous, maybe a bear or mountain lion. Although I’d never seen either so close to the house. I looked to the dog, then back down the path. It was clear now that there was something down the trail, I could only just make out something moving. And a distant sound, like a bird call or whistle... but unlike any bird I’d ever heard before. The figure didn’t seem to be moving very fast, or in any particular direction I could determine. Either way, I didn’t want to stay on this path any longer. Whatever the figure was, no good could come of waiting for it to approach. I turned to follow Scout, and the dog seemed eager to leave, no longer sniffing around. I kept looking over my shoulder, watching for the distant shape. It became harder to make out, and I couldn’t tell if it was following or merely staying in place. The path curved ahead of me, and I picked up my pace, beginning to feel frightened in earnest now. Scout seemed to sense my disquiet, and matched my speed, although he continued to whine. Despite knowing that whatever was behind us was no longer in sight, I continued to throw frantic glances over my shoulder. There remained no sign of the thing. As we hurried forward, I began to search for the mouth of the path - and the opening back into the cornfield. But minutes passed and there was no sign of it. I couldn't have been walking this long on the way into the path. I was far too afraid to backtrack, so continuing forward was the only option. I again increased my pace, rushing now, still glancing behind me. The birds had not resumed their song. I kept rushing forward, searching for the entrance. Then, behind me and from a distance, I heard what sounded like my mother calling. I froze, certain that her voice was coming from the wrong direction of the ancient farmhouse. Could it have been someone else, who sounded like my mother? I was certain no one lived within miles of our property. I dithered on the spot, uncertain what to do. I was convinced I’d heard someone calling behind me, was that what the figure was all along - just a woman on a hike? I took a few tentative steps back, treading quietly. Only a few steps brought me to a curve in the trail, as I rounded the bend, I found myself back at the same place I was when I’d first seen the figure. It was still there, but seemed closer now. As I looked, it drew ever closer still. Its edges seemed blurred, its colour uncertain. I watched a moment, trying to decide who it could be, if it was a man or woman.. or a person at all. As it advanced, I became more and more hesitant to classify it. Whatever it was, it called out again. It called out to me. It no longer sounded like my mother. Or anyone’s mother. It sounded grating, and echoed through the woods. It was closer now, seeming to suddenly rush across the distance without moving at all. It was still difficult to focus on, its nature defied comprehension. I had a sense of many long limbs, blurred and twitching, Its long face seemed pale one moment and dark the next. I caught a glimpse of pure, black eyes. The only thing about this creature that was steady were its eyes. The body jerked along the path, but its eyes remained fixed upon me. Beside me, Scout began barking fanatically, attempting to scare off this apparition. It proceeded forward, unphased, in its stuttering manor. The sound of my dog broke me out of my trance, I whistled to Scout, turned and ran. The thing was far enough away that we had a strong head start. But as we ran, we seemed to get no nearer to finding the opening in the foliage. I could hear the thing calling out behind me, and I now recognized the chilling perversion of my mother’s voice in it. It was as if my mother’s voice was being mimicked by something with only the barest comprehension of speech. Now that I’d seen it closer, it had abandoned all attempts at fooling me. I rushed onward, desperately searching for the exit. I could now hear it scrabbling along the dirt behind me. I threw another terrified glance behind me. The pursuer had grown impossibly tall, and its face was stretched long. Its mouth was wide, and opened wider still, seeming to almost split its head in half on a hinge. Its mouth was full of rows and rows of needle-shaped teeth, lining its maw in spirals down its throat and out of sight. A sickly sweet stench seemed to blast toward me, hot and fetid. Its greyish skin was cover in pustules, rotted and weeping. It reached a long arm toward me, tipped with three vicious claws. At that moment, I crashed through the brush and found myself on my back in the bright sunlight outside the wood. I was surrounded by the corn. Scout had leapt out in front of me, and whirled to confront our attacker. But there was nothing there. I blinked and got to my feet, peering through the undergrowth. There was no sign of a creature or a path. My heart was still pounding as I started back towards the house. I knew I hadn’t imagined the encounter. But I could find no evidence of the thing without going back into the wood. I would never venture into that forest again. Scout and I headed back toward home. I continued to peek over my shoulder, but nothing followed, and there was no sign of anything moving between the trees. That night, as I lay awake in bed, I couldn’t sleep for fear of the return of the spectre from the path. It didn’t help matters that in the darkest hours of the night, I heard a repeated soft whistling sound directly outside my window.


I’ve found that if I go up to the roof and stand on tiptoes to look over the battlements, I can see the reflection of my uncle’s castle in the water below. It makes a big dark shape like there’s a monster lurking down in the loch and for a moment I can just about believe it's what's keeping us trapped inside. ‘Careful there, Miss Muirenn,’ one of the guards calls out to me. They always do that and I hate it. I was only looking, and I wasn’t about to fall, but I step back anyway. There are always guards along the battlements, even though there’s nothing to see. There’s only the endless stretch of the loch all around us and maybe a few other boats in the distance, but those usually have other guards in them, too. Most of the time the castle guards aren’t actually on the lookout, though. They’re just working on building the new wooden lever machines they have up there or stacking up big piles of stone balls about the place. I’ve asked what they’re for but they tell me it’s none of my concern and to go and play somewhere else. I should; it’s boring up there, anyway. If I go down to the castle harbour, then maybe they’ll let me ride in one of the boats this time. They never do, though. Last time, they said my uncle Eoin said I wasn’t allowed, which is unfair because I'm a very good rower. I don’t even make it to the second floor before I hear the crying. It’s louder than all the noise of hammering and clattering and people rushing up and down that usually fills the castle. I don’t even have to see to know what is making such an awful noise. It’s Colban again, probably wanting to see Father or go paddling in the bay something else he can’t have. He’s such a baby. He’s hardly stopped crying since we got here. He’s always following me around, too, trying to grab at me with his sticky little hands. He whines even more when I pull myself free, so I have to let him pull at my skirts or else he won’t be quiet. He’s lying on the floor of his chambers, rolling around and aiming clumsy kicks at nothing as he screams. Cousin Torcuil is there with him, but he’s just sitting to the side, watching Colban work himself into a pointless fury. ‘What is it now?’ I ask, shouting so that he can hear me over his own wailing. ‘I... I... want to... go... *HOME*,’ he yells, his face red and smeared with tears. ‘Will you stop that,’ I say, kneeling down and grabbing his flailing fists. The shock of it stops his crying, at least. ‘I’ve told you, we can’t go home. We’ve got to stay here for now.’ It’s not even been two weeks since we left home and already I must have told him this a hundred times. I wish he’d just listen rather than getting angry about it every time like it’s my fault. ‘Do you know why you have to stay here?’ Torcuil asks, his voice calm and soothing. Colban shakes his head, sending a spray of hot tears flying across the room. ‘Remember?’ I say, trying to keep my voice calm. ‘Because of the flux. People living across our loch were getting poorly and Father said we had to go and stay here for a while in case we got sick, too.’ There’s a look of surprise on Torcuil’s face at this. I hope he doesn’t think we brought the flux with us, because there are no other children here, and I don’t want to be stuck with only my crybaby brother for company. ‘It won’t be long. You’ll be able to go home soon,’ Torcuil says and pokes Colban in the tummy which makes him smile. ‘Hey, come on. Let’s go adventuring again. You liked that yesterday, didn’t you? Let’s go and see what we can find.’ Colban nods, gulping down the last of his sobs. Trust Torcuil to come up with such a clever distraction. Even small things are grand adventures when you’re so small. The castle is still unfamiliar enough for Colban that it’ll be enough to keep him happy for the next few hours. Until he remembers where he is and starts crying again. ‘Will we find dragons?’ ‘Oh, perhaps!’ ‘And daddy?’ ‘We’ll see.’ I hold my breath until I’m sure they’ve gone because I can feel the prickling in my eyes and my face going hot. I don’t want them to see me cry. Father said we wouldn’t have to stay here for very long, but I don’t know how long that is. I want to go home.  **II** I make it as far as the Glancing Loch before they catch up to me, the swinging light of their lanterns leaving long trails on the water like the glowing eyes of a hungry beast. There’s nowhere to hide out on the black expanse of the loch, and one girl in a small boat is no match for a ten-man barge. It’s over. ‘Muirenn! Get in the boat!’ My uncle leans out over the bulwark, hand extended like I need rescuing, expecting me to take it. I only set my jaw and lean harder into my oars. I’d rather throw myself overboard than give them the satisfaction of seeing me give up. When I don’t reply, he scoffs and pulls me into the boat himself, his grip tight and rough around my arm. ‘Ow! Get off me! That hurts!’ I shriek, though it’s not that bad. He does let go, though, and had the decency to look ashamed for manhandling me, though not enough to quell the ferocity of his mood. ‘What were you thinking? Out here on the water at night. Do you think you’re invincible? Anything could have happened to you.’ I roll my eyes. I swear he thinks I’m incapable of doing anything. ‘So you actually noticed I'd left, had you? That’s novel; you’re more than happy to ignore me the rest of the time. Since when did you care what I do?’ I’m willing to bet he hadn’t noticed at all. It’s more likely Colban who gave me up, getting me back for not taking him with me. Little shit. His life won’t be worth living when I get back. Around us, the oarsmen begin to turn the boat around, sending smooth lamplit ripples out and away into the darkness. My uncle rubs his eyes as though he’s tired, though he’s probably the only one who’s not had to row. ‘So that it? This is just some mindless rebellion to get my attention, is it? Well, congratulations. You’ve got it. Where were you even going?’ *Bastard.* ‘This hasn’t got anything to do with you, you idiot!’ I scream with frustration. ‘And do you really have to ask where I was going? Are you that stupid? I was going *home*!’ Home. At last. To the warm wooden hall sitting at the foot of the hill where the river splits. To the gleaming silver waters of the Bounding Loch ringed with blue-grey smudges of distant mountains. Where my parents lie in their cold earthen tomb. My uncle clenches and unclenches his fists, clearly struggling to control his temper. ‘Your father told me to look after you, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m sorry if you don’t like it--’ ‘What do you want from me? You won’t let me do anything! You won’t let me speak to anyone, you won’t let me in a boat, I’m forbidden from going home... Do you really expect me to spend my life sitting around being pretty while your guards ogle my tits?’ Even in the dark, I can see my uncle flush red at this. It’s crass, but it’s true. Fuckers. ‘Gods, what did Aunt Beitris die of? Boredom?’ I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. My uncle’s face whitens in rage, and he jumps to his feet. He steps forward to grab me or slap me, I don’t know, but the boat rocks wildly beneath him and he stops to steady himself. Then, there’s a shout from behind me and a splash as a man falls overboard. The whole boat falls silent. No one shouts after him or attempts to go in after him. Instead, there’s almost a sigh of resignation. It’s like their comrade had fallen up into the sky and away forever. Like nothing could be done. But then he comes spluttering to the surface in an explosion of churned water and flailing arms, clawing frantically up at the hands now reaching out to pull him to safety. The whole incident must have lasted a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours. It doesn’t take long before everything’s back in order and the awkward silence is broken only by the soothing rhythm of the creak of the rowlocks. I can only watch all my progress skimming away beneath me. ‘She drowned’ my uncle murmurs eventually, not looking at me. ‘Your aunt drowned.’ I only nod but hold this information tight in my heart all the way back to the castle, twisting it every which way I can. The network of rivers and lochs are our life. I can’t remember not being able to swim. I’ve never known anyone who couldn’t. One drowning is unusual, but two is more than unfortunate. How could both she and my mother have drowned? It didn’t make sense.  **III** The moon is high by the time I finally get the girls to settle. Jonet and Elspaith have both greeted the arrival of Sorcha with a wave of inconsolable fury, and every sliver of my further divided attention is more precious to them than sleep. It’s as I’m scraping together the energy to return to my own room that I see it. The faint shudder of a lamplit shadow on the wall; shapes leering and stretching with their movements. Like a sinuous creature cut from the night itself. No one should be out at this hour. From the window, I can just make out five figures down in the harbour. There is only one lantern among them, the wick trimmed low, and the half-darkness swallows up their identities. But then there is a fleeting moment when an arm is raised and a head turned and for a second, two of the faces become clear as day. Torcuil and his wife Ciorsdan. I watch until the glow of their lantern is only a distant fluttering ember. I can only make out the hint of their movements in the pale moonlight; the shuffling of seats, a person standing. Then there is the fishbelly-white gasp of a splash against the black water as though something large and heavy was thrown overboard. I’m in my bed before the boat returns but I cannot sleep. The thoughts slip and curl through my mind like eels in a barrel. Torcuil’s empty smile after his son was born. Colban’s stoic distance. My husband’s silent displeasure at siring three daughters. My uncle’s insistence that my father told him to look after me, an unspoken ‘*until*’ hanging in the air like a noose. And among them, all the women I have known who have died suddenly and strangely. I collect them together like bright beads on a necklace and hold them close to my heart. \*\*\* The next day, Ciorsdan is missing. Half the harbour is sent out in search of her, but I know what they’ll find. A lone boat drifting at the far side of the loch with no sign of its occupant. Another tragic accident, they’ll call it. There have been so many. My husband spends the day with the girls, watching the seals sunning themselves on the quay. His attempt to distract them is clumsy but the girls are delighted by this rare fragment of attention from their father. I’m not about to complain. It’s a relief to have a minute to myself without them clinging to my skirts. Who knows if I’ll have such an opportunity again. As I’d hoped, the map room is deserted. Papers and ledgers litter every surface; if what I’m looking for exists, it is surely here. But my search is over before it even begins. A book has been left out on the table, lying open at the correct page. Someone was consulting the text recently, it seems. Time slows to a trickle as I read, drinking in everything I was never supposed to know. ‘What are you doing?’ Torcuil stands at the door, his eyes dulled more with exhaustion than concern. I hold the book up, pages splayed open at one illustration in particular. ‘I thought better of you,’ I say, my voice barely above a breath. His throat works, trying to find the words, a blotchy redness creeping over his face. ‘I--’ ‘And Ciorsdan? Was your own wife not except from this? She survived two days in labour with your son only to be thrown away to satisfy some--’ He steps forward and pulls the book from my hands, his face thunderous. ‘I’m the laird now. It’s my responsibility to keep everything in order. I’ll not take any chances. This has been the way of things for centuries. Some sacrifices have to be made for our safety. If some don’t die, then we all do.’ ‘Funny how it’s always women! Have you ever even seen this thing? How do you know what it wants?’ Is it any wonder it came to this? A kingdom built by generation upon generation of motherless men. All repeating their father’s actions because that’s all there’s ever been. No one knows what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. How do I end this? How long do I have? Time passes faster now, slipping away like water through my fingers. How long until my girls marry and bear sons and are thrown to the loch when the men decide their purpose has been fulfilled? ‘I didn't want to,’ Torcuil says, voice breaking. ‘But I had to. For all our sakes.’ What would I do to save my daughters? The blade slips from my sleeve to my hand and he has the decency to not cry out and cower as I fly at him.  **IV** The last of the arrivals clambered aboard from their teetering coracles and row barges and hurried inside. Muirenn ignored them, feeling too keenly the slow creak of her joints as she crouched lower to the water. Then, with a quick snap of her arm, she sent a pebble skipping out across the water, leaving a bright string of silver ripples in its wake. Not bad, but she used to be better. ‘There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere. What *are* you doing?’ Colban said from the doorway, a hint of anger in his voice. ‘Join me?’ Muirenn said, holding up another stone. ‘When did you become such a boring old man? You seem to have forgotten that growing old is mandatory but growing up is optional.’ Colban huffed. ‘Come on. It’s about to begin.’ Muirenn sighed and threw the last stone into the water with a soft *plop*. Despite her legacy, her standing, she was still expected to attend these gatherings. Then again, it wouldn’t be happening if not for her. The flotilla had been her idea all those years ago. The idea that would unite them all, would protect them when the raging floods came in retribution after the sacrifices stopped. Not that the floods ever did come. Moving the laird’s seat to this ship had been her doing, too. Anything to be away from that solid lump of a castle and its ghosts. They christened it after the great beast that had supposedly haunted the depths of the lochs, that so many had lost their lives to appease. Now *The Darkwater Serpent* was something beautiful and honourable, the largest boat ever built, rather than a phantom to be feared. The hall was hot and airless and bubbled with a noise that only increased when Muirenn entered. Such a fuss. Up on the dais, Iagan caught her eye and flashed her a reassuring smile before getting to his feet and addressing the crowd. ‘My friends! I’m so glad you could all be with me today!’ he said, grinning as he was greeted with a tumult of clapping and cheers. There was so much of Torcuil in him, she thought. It seemed fair that she would never be able to forget the things she’d done. But if Iagan knew of the events surrounding the loss of his parents, he’d never mentioned it. ‘Tonight is the last night! The end before the new beginning. These lands have been good to us. The rivers are as much a part of us as the blood in our veins. But there is more out there!’ Muirenn tuned out his words and looked across the hall, finding the bright, round faces of her daughters and grandchildren amongst the throng. The sight of each of them only increased the ache in her chest that had been growing over the last few weeks. What wonderful lives they would live. ‘Tomorrow, we climb upon the shoulders of giants. Tomorrow we set sail. Tomorrow we trace a new path out along the rivers and to the sea and whatever lies beyond.’ The hall was alive with the shouting and the stomping of the crowd, a steady, beating heart. ‘To the flotilla, to the sea, to the future!’ Iagan cried. *To the future!* The hall roared back. \*\*\* The night was deep and the ships dark when Muirenn slipped from her cabin and untied one of the skiffs. There was no one to see her leave. No one to stop her. They would love their new life on the sea, she was sure, but she was much too old for new beginnings. The oars slipped soundlessly through the water, pulling her onwards along the route etched into her mind. As a girl, she used to spend hours studying the maps of the rivers and lochs that hung in her uncle’s castle, tracing the way with her finger. Kings Loch to the Stone River to The Race to the Glancing Loch to the Swordsman’s River and on and on and on. The possibility of this journey had pulled like a weight in her chest all her life. But between children and the boats and ruling in Iagan’s stead until he came of age, there never seemed to be the time. But there was time now. It was evening by the time she pulled her boat ashore at the foot of the hill where the river split. The fire-coloured clouds overhead painted the gleaming waters of the Bounding Loch orange and gold, and the blue-grey smudges of distant mountains were touched with the warm glow of the coming sunset. Just as she’d remembered. The warm wooden hall was still there, worried and worn by wind and weather, but still recognisable. She’d know it anywhere. Muirenn breathed it all in. ‘Welcome home,’ she whispered.


The golden rays of sun touches my face as it risen. I am currently drinking my coffee here in my room's balcony while watching the sun rise. I close my eyes and heave a sigh as I felt the warm breeze. The sunrise symbolizes a new day. A new day for me to start all over again. My dream is to become a model in a magazine since I was five years old. I don't know but I really love fame and everyone's attention. I love having everyone's attention, but sadly my family deprived it to me. It was like I am not existing in their life. That they don't care that I am breathing. They always ignore me and never did ask me if I'm ok. For years, I learned to be ok with that. All I want in my life now is to be the most famous model in the whole world. And maybe this is my time to shine. I smiled when I received a message from the owner of the B Magazine, the most popular magazine business in the world. It says that I am accepted to their company and I need to be there today. I Immediately fix myself with a wide smile on my face. I tied my long straight black hair into a high ponytail. I wore a stylish pastel pink sweet-heart top off-shoulder dress that perfectly shaped my curves and exposing my neck and collar bone. When I got satisfied at my look, I spray my purfume all over my body. It took me a few minutes to arrive at my destination. The moment I took a step on their tiled floor I can't stop but to smile so wide because of so much happiness. I will finally reach my dreams. The secretary guided me to the CEO's office. When I enter the room, Miss Bella, the CEO welcomed me with a tight hug. "Welcome to my company Venus." she formally said. "Thank you for accepting me in your company madame." I answered politely. "Oh silly! A beautiful and sexy girl like you is what I need in my company. Now, let's go to the studio, you should meet the other models." she said and guided me to the studio. My eyes sparkled when I saw the whole studio room. This is my dream! To be one of the models and to pose in front of the camera while everyone's admiring and praising me. "Venus, this is Faye and Sam. I want you three to be comfortable at each other. I chose the three of you to be partners." Miss bella said. I smile and offer my hand to faye and sam to shakehands. Both of them were beautiful too. Faye has a childish attitude but she's friendly and I got more comfortable with her. While sam, she's serious and not so talkative unlike faye. As I observed, sam was the sexiest among us. The team took a few photos of us together. There's a sports theme, business attire, long gown, casual attire and a swimwear. I have a great day with them. A few days past and Miss Bella conducted an audition for the three of us. It says that whoever wins the audition, she will be having a solo shoot in a magazine. I got a little nervous about that because I really wanted to win that audition. Having a solo shoot is a big deal. You will be much more popular than having a partner in a magazine. I work so hard for it. I woke up early every morning to exercise and took a balance diet. I always took my skincare every night and sleep early to avoid having a dark circles. The audition came and every one of us, even the team and miss bella were busy. The audition is like a beauty pageant but there's no question and answer or talent shows. We only need to walk in a stage a few times with a different clothes and the one who wears it and pose beautifuly and elegantly will be the chosen one. I walk sexily to the stage wearing a black bikini. I raised my chin while smiling and confidently turned around and pose in front of the camera. I exhale so loud when I finished. The next one will be sam. I can't help but to admire her perfectly shaped body wearing a red bikini which made her white skin lighter. She pose and pose confidently in front of everyone. I don't know but I felt sad seeing her be praised by everyone instead of me. The audition is finally over. My heart broke into pieces when the judges chose sam as the winner. I can't stop my tears from falling so I decided to go in the backstage where no one is there. I cried and cried until I felt a warm hand slowly tapping my back. I raise my head to see who is it and I saw faye, smiling at me. "It's ok venus. There's more to come for us to shine." she said which make me felt relieved. Months have passed and sam is the talk of the town. No, talk of the world. She became the most popular model in the world. While me, some know me but most of them doesn't. Faye became my partner for a months now. But because of her personality, she's better known than me. I took a deep breath as I watch sam having another photoshoot. I sadly walk to the dressing room and sit infront of my bureau. "If only she's not here." I unconsciously said while facing the mirror. My heart skips a beat when I saw faye looking at me. She then sat beside me while adding some make up on her face. "Are you ok?" she ask. I nodded and averted my eyes from her. Did she hear what I said? Gosh! What would she think of me?! Will she think that I can kill sam for me to have the honor? The fame?! "I'm leaving now. Bye!" faye said and finally left me here. I sigh and rest my back in my chair. I lazily look at the door when I saw sam enter the room. She sat infront of her bureau and fix her make up. I sigh again and closed my eyes. I immediately opened my eyes when I smell a smoke. I stand up and saw a smoke all over the room. I saw sam trying to open the door but it was locked. "Where does the smoke came from?" I asked while coughing. I tried to walk but I felt so weak and sleepy. "I don't know!" sam answered while coughing. A few seconds have past, she suddenly fell to the floor. I tried to approach her but my knees got weak which made me kneel. I was trying to cover my nose but then I finally fell to the floor and everything went black. I woke up with my head spinning and in pain. I touch my head but I felt a liquid there so I immediately looked at my hand. My body frozed when I saw a blood there. I looked at my other hand and I saw a knife full of blood. My eyes got bigger when I saw sam covered by her own blood. I cried seeing a stabs in her chest down to her tummy. I tried to touch her but stopped when a police took me and tied my hand. Miss Bella slap me so hard which made me cry. I know I'm not the one who killed sam but they accused me for killing her. Even I wished for her to disappear I know I can't do that! "Are you so obsessed to be on a top that you're able to kill someone?!" miss bella shout at me while crying. I want to defend myself. I want to say that I didn't do that. But I can't open my mouth. And I don't think they will believe me. The police push me which made me walk. My tears won't stop and my knees are shaking in fear. I didn't kill her! But... Who will? As we step outside the building, the crowd were shouting so loud to curse me. Some are trying to throw a stone to me. The police open the car's door for me to enter but before I enter, I saw a woman in the crowd. My body frozed when I saw faye creepily smiling at me. I cried when I saw her secretly wipes her hand full of blood. Is it her?! Did she killed sam?! I saw her took her phone and type something. My phone rang so I immediately took it from my pocket. It was an unknown number but I'm sure it's from faye. "Be careful what you wished for." It was her. She killed sam! She heard what I said in our room. But why? Why did she do that?! The crowd is still cursing at me and throwing a stone even when I am inside the car now. My phone beep again and I saw a message from faye. "Now I will be on a top. Thank you my dear friend." I was trying to save her phone number so I can used this as an evidence but then a virus came in my phone which made my phone died. It was hacked! She hacked my phone! What should I do now?! How can I defend myself if I don't have an evidence?! I didn't wished for this to happen. Even when I'm in jail, the crowd was still cursing me and some wants to kill me. The news spread so fast and I became the talk of the world. I did not know that this way I could achieve my dream. Now, I have everyone's attention. I became famous for something I never actually did.


TW: Death Mention, Brief Mentions of Implied Gambling/Debt Accrual --- Lady Ophelia was regarded as a prim woman, dressed in modest attire, and her hair pulled neatly into a bun at the base of her neck. Gold spectacles rested on a hawk-like nose while her lips remained in a disapproving sneer like she smelled a rotting corpse throughout each day. The town’s children played daring games, challenging one another to see who could get closest to the Lady’s gated mansion. Iron-wrought fence lined the exterior, extending some twenty feet in the air, while a gate remained shut regardless if she was home. There was no question the Lady despised children and all things related, so when the townsfolk spotted the old woman heading to the train station, cane in hand to retrieve a child, the news spread like wildfire. The Lady stopped in the middle of the station and peered through the crowd of people, searching and scrutinizing, before spotting a pair standing by a massive stone pillar. “Mister Stein, I presume.” She stopped before the tall man. Her voice carried and held presence, reveling in her authority and established reputation. Mister Stein nodded to the woman and removed his hat, folded his arm over his chest, and bowed deeply from the hips. “Cecil,” he returned, “A pleasure-” “Oh, pish-posh. Is this the child?” Mister Stein halted, his words cut off sharply. Politely, he cleared his throat and stood straight. The child standing beside him was young, hardly more than ten, a grubby leather suitcase settled by their feet. The child peered at Lady Ophelia with wide eyes, shiny and glistening with unfallen tears, before wiping a hand across their nose. The Lady grimaced in distaste. “Yes, this is her. I am sorry for your loss.” “Yes, well, death comes to us all. We don’t get to decide when.” The Lady sniffed. “Is this it then? Only one suitcase?” “Aye, ma’am, just the one,” Mr. Stein confirmed. “Puh, of course. Well, I suppose we will have to make to the shops. That tiny thing couldn’t possibly carry enough clothing to cover the next month.” Mister Stein gently pushed the child’s back, nudging them forward. The child stumbled with surprise, catching themselves quickly before turning and grabbing their suitcase, stepping over to the Lady. “What is your name, child?” “Eleanor, ma’am. They call me Nellie.” “Who’s they,” the Lady questioned. Nellie faltered and looked back at Mister Stein. “Um, everyone, ma’am.” Lady Ophelia looked at Cecil with an irritated face. “Of course. Well, come along then. Say your farewells; we’ve much to do.” Nellie did not offer much in a farewell to the man. A quick glance between both adults was all she needed, as Nellie raised their hand in a wave before following after the Lady. As they walked, townsfolk parted like the sea while Ophelia led the way through the bustling streets, watching and staring incredulously at a child trailing after such a formidable woman. Children gawked as she stumbled past, trying her best to keep pace with the Lady. “Um, ma’am-” Nellie started. “No dawdling! Pick it up now, we are almost there.” Endless questions died on Nellie’s tongue as she ran after the Lady, lugging the suitcase. The pair stopped in front of a massive shop decorated with ornate woodworking and painted an ostentatious shade of canary yellow. The roof was blue and the shutters were white. A sign hung from the house, “The Rose Petal Tailor” painted on its front, with a rose flower carved into the wood and painted red and green. The red was already chipping away. Following Ophelia into the shop, Nellie’s eyes widened into saucers. Clothes of every possible fashion were hung along the walls with stands in the center of the space, filled with delicately placed mannequins adorned in sparkling dresses and freshly ironed suits. Men and women flitted about, perusing the racks and shelves of clothing, investigating all the shop offered its clientele. A bell tinkled above them when the door opened and closed. Beneath their feet were thin, worn rugs, muffling the clonk of high-heeled shoes against the aged hardwood floor. From around the corner, a well-endowed woman with a rouged face emerged, dresses thrown over one arm and her hair in a frazzled state of disarray. “My Lady Ophelia, darling, what a pleasure! I did not expect you for another two weeks! Your order isn’t quite ready yet, I’m afraid.” “Yes, nice to see you, as well, Catelyn. I’m not here for the order. I’m here for the girl.” Catelyn peered around Ophelia to see Nellie standing nervously. The woman’s face brightened in delight and quickly tossed the clothes into the arms of another worker running throughout the store. “What a darling she is! She can’t possibly be yours; you’ve always hated children!” Ophelia stiffened as Catelyn approached and leaned for a better view of Nellie. The older woman glanced at the girl briefly before clearing her throat, averting her gaze. Stepping to the side, Ophelia granted the shop owner a better view of the young girl and took to looking over a nearby display of fabrics and embellishments. “What’s your name, dear,” Catelyn asked. “Eleanor, ma’am, but everyone calls me Nellie.” The woman squealed with delight. “What an adorable name! Ophelia, dear, you must let me dress her! These rags cannot possibly be the only things she has to wear.” “That is why we are here, Catelyn. The suitcase is all the child brought. Dress her in whatever you like. Put the amount on my tab as usual.” Dropping her suitcase, Nellie was plucked away from Ophelia’s side and hauled off to a nearby dressing room. Pulling the curtain back, Catelyn ushered the girl inside and demanded she strip. With the curtain shifted back quickly, Nellie was left alone in the room with naught but her thoughts and feelings. Shivering in the cool air of the shop, she slowly opened the curtain and peeked out through the hole she made. Catelyn was nowhere in sight, but within view was the Lady. Nellie’s eyes widened when she saw the suitcase in her hands. “Oh no...” She must’ve dropped it when pulled away by the shopkeep. Catelyn re-emerged and in her arms were bundles of blouses, skirts, dresses, jumpers, and all manner of socially appropriate outfits for a ten-year-old child to wear. Her view was blocked as Nellie stepped away to grant Catelyn room in the changing area, she could only hope Ophelia wouldn’t rifle through her belongings. She couldn’t possibly, right? Across the store, Ophelia rested the suitcase on a nearby table. It was locked shut with some stiff metal snaps and was surprisingly lighter than she’d thought. Carefully, she pushed the snaps up with small ‘thunks’ as the lid of the case opened. Inside was a single shirt and a single skirt. Anger flooded through the older woman at the lack of clothing the child brought with her, finding it disgraceful for such a young thing to be without any proper attire. The shirt and skirt were torn and grimy, with the edges fraying from wear. How old were these? Puh! She lifted the cloth with distaste, blinking in surprise at what was hidden beneath the clothing. A small book was there, without a cover, bound in leather and worn along the edges. The pages were yellowed with time. Ophelia lifted the book out of the case and opened it. “To my Dear Eleanor, a light among the darkness of this family. Keep this book and all things it carries close. Never let your parents find it.” Handwriting so familiar, Ophelia brushed the tips of her wrinkled fingers over the words before turning the page. With each flip, the woman was reminded of endless memories. Black and white pictures were plastered to the inside, while dried flowers decorated the pages. Calligraphy wrote small notes and captions as the same ink crafted swirling designs along the borders of each page to fill empty space. Some of the pictures were of a young man in suits and a woman in modest dresses, both with kind faces, as Eleanor remained cradled in the woman’s arms. Ophelia paused at these pictures briefly, drinking in remnants of a family she once knew and now, no longer had. With each moment of remembrance, Ophelia flipped through quicker, avoiding any pages with the woman plastered inside. Other pictures of Eleanor as a babe, both alone, and with an old man settled in his lap, were also throughout many of the pages. They wore flower crowns woven from dandelions and wildflowers, leaves dusting their clothes. The man wore suspenders and leather brown shoes, a cap on his head, his face aged, and hair scattered with salt and pepper. Many years had passed since Ophelia last saw her brother’s face, stolen from the world over an unpaid debt. How simple the solution was if only his pride didn’t prevent him from asking for help. The Lady sniffed quietly as she perused the book, flipping through the pages carefully and taking in the images of each picture, of each recorded memory, rereading the little notes written beside them. “Ophelia, darling, we’re ready with the first arrangement!” “Send her out, then, Catelyn!” The old woman turned to face the closed curtain before it was drawn back and the seamstress led Eleanor out into the room. She was dressed in a simple floral skirt long enough to meet her knees, a plain white shirt, and a mauve-colored flat which matched the flower print. Ophelia’s brows lifted approvingly and gestured with a finger for the girl to spin. Obediently, Nellie turned in a full circle, peering at the Lady once a turn had been completed, seeking out any semblance of validation. “Good. She’ll wear the outfit out. Pack whatever else you have brought out and have Jorge deliver it when he returns. Anything unwanted after we try it at home, we shall return as usual.” “Of course, ma’am! Go on, dear, I’ll get the rest of your clothes packed up.” Nellie thanked Catelyn and stepped over to Lady Ophelia. Her fingers kneaded together, clasping and unclasping with nervous energy. The girl peered towards her suitcase before meeting Ophelia’s eye. “You opened it,” she murmured. “Yes. I did not anticipate finding this in your belongings.” Ophelia held the photo album out to Nellie with a pointed expression. “I did not realize you were so close to my late brother.” The girl looked away, fingers now gripping her skirt. She shuffled, anxious, reaching out to take the book from the old woman. It was heavy and familiar in her hands, worn at the edges from the many times she’d opened it and peered at the memories. Ophelia was in some of the pictures, with barely a smile on her face, but the man was always smiling. She remembered her Grandfather with love and adoration, but Ophelia... Her great-aunt was a faded memory with little to hold onto. She was an abrasive woman, hard to be close to, and made her intimidating nature well known. “I miss him,” she whispered, “I miss Ma and Da, too.” A long pause stretched between the pair before a hand came to rest on top of her head. Nellie froze, flinching at the sudden touch. “I do too.” The hand vanished, leaving a strange emptiness, as Ophelia turned and stepped away from Eleanor. Blinking, Nellie carefully put the photo album back into her suitcase and snapped it shut, hauling it off the table and bringing it with her to where Ophelia waited at the front of the store. “Come, Eleanor,” the Lady cast her a look, “Let us return home.” Nellie paused and glanced at Catelyn who beamed brightly at her. Quickly, she scrambled after the woman, the bell tinkling as the door opened. Home, Nellie smiled to herself, the suitcase lighter than when she first stepped off the train in this new town.


“Oh, how the years go by.” Only the echo of that rough southern voice was caught out in open land like this. Land arid by heat and miles and miles of nothing. “I remember there used to be grass here, more alive than either one of us.” The man speaking kicked a rock across the parking lot of a rusted gas station, a relic of the past, it could do nothing but be useful for scavenging for fuel now. “Will you keep it down? Pull up your scarf.” The man leaned down into the barely kept-together car they had stolen not too many miles down the road. “What for? Ain’t nobody but you and me around here.” Silus retorted. The paint on the red Toyota they nabbed was falling off, chipping to the ground in flakes, and as this bigger man set his weight on it, it squeaked on its wheels, the noise something awful. “Silus!” they exclaimed and he was hanging halfway out the window. “Can you focus?” Silus rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah..” he muttered standing back up and looking tirelessly at the gas can being slowly filled with gas from the pump. “I’m serious though.” Silus managed to pull his bandana back on his face. “Ox, I really am. You don’t remember running in the grass? Or those days it used to rain and you’d be happy because it wouldn’t be hot for once?” Ox sighed leaning into the leather of the passenger seat of the car. “I suppose I do remember. What I wouldn’t give for some rain.” Silus laughed, “Amen partner. Amen.” They sat there for a few moments in nothing but completely silent. There weren’t any trees To rustle or grass to sway. No birds to sing and rarely any cars to pass by and offer a short-lived breeze and you could watch as its light wound into the night. These two hadn’t seen it be the night for quite some time now. “What comes after this?” Ox said silently. The question lingered between the two. Silus, of course, didn’t have the answer Ox wanted yet had felt his breath hitched when he knew the answer. “Nothing I reckon. Nothing at all.” His bandana had fallen again. “Enough with all that crisis and whatnot. We aren’t getting anything else out of this anyway.” Silus dropped the pump and as it made a loud noise of metal scraping on metal he walked to the trunk and popped it open. “Keep it down out there!” Ox shouted from inside the car. Silus rolled his eyes as he placed the gas can in the trunk and hopped into the driver's seat. “You’re so nervous, lighten up,” Ox grumbled something as Silus put his foot on the gas and turned back onto the two-lane road that seemed to stretch for miles. The ride home was always daunting to Ox, either it’d be too quiet because they didn’t know what to say or it would be loud because their mind always convinced them that someone had broken into the farm and taken the very last of their rations. They imagined Silus was always stuck in a daydream because he never treated any situation as dangerous as it was. Was he like an air-headed child or just some ignorant cowboy, Ox didn't know. Ox turned their head toward the horizon, mesmerized by it. The sun was always there, of course, these days it never left, and that brought some sort of comfort to Ox. They sighed as they thought about how this even happened, how they got stuck surviving like this. They used to work on a ranch and it had been their turn to put all the hay in the attic and basement of the barn. They hated doing this, the hay bales were so heavy and the wagons never seemed big enough. They took on a good sweat as they dragged each bale into the basement and once they were done they sat to admire their work. That’s when the sirens went off. A loud voice rang throughout the whole county and the only words Ox could gather were, “This is not a drill. This is not a drill!” The farm owner found Ox and pulled them from the barn into the bunker under his house. Ox had always been thankful that his boss was a paranoid man in case something like this happened. They stayed there for weeks, no one would tell Ox what happened because they weren’t even sure themselves, and when they finally emerged from the bunker, it was all gone. The cows, the crops, the trees. All of it vanished and was replaced with dry soil broken by empty lifeless veins. And as they looked to the sun they noticed it was much closer and half of it was gone. News couldn’t explain what had happened, why so many people lived through it, why new diseases started suddenly popping up everywhere, or why everything was just gone. People started dropping like flies. The memory of Ox and Silus meeting was torn into small recollections. The vivid ranch that was once breathing life was replaced by a desolate panorama and would serve as the perfect scene for a shootout. Everyone wanted to survive. Silus would rather share supplies, that were now rare, with Ox instead of just shooting them for it. Ox was thankful but had their suspicions. It had been five years since they traveled together now, so no suspicions were confirmed. As the years passed the sun, once this omnipresent beacon, waned, and all anyone left could do was hope that maybe when it disappeared into the void, it would come back the next day. Who knew what would happen when it was finally gone. Silus hit the brake before Ox even realized they were back home. “You done daydreamin?” Silus quipped and Ox groaned getting out of the car. The ranch, with its rotting wood and faded past stood tall, a testament to humanity's lively existence. As they walked toward it all either one of them could think of was the twilight and the constant need to live. All they had was this never-ending cycle of being together. Although Ox misses the way things were they couldn’t help but crack a smile as Silus nudged their shoulder. Even at the end of the world, they could laugh. That was enough for them.


Roach scuttled along the street, sidestepping the chunks of broken buildings and shattered glass. The pads on the bottom of his six spiny legs could have easily helped him climb the debris, but he barely had the energy to even hold his antennae up after a long day spent hunting. A long, futile day. Just more decaying bodies and dead wood, a few bits of cardboard here and there. They weren’t terrible snacks, but Roach longed for the days he scratched through the kitchen walls, stealing bits of cheese off the table. Once, he even had the pleasure of gulping up a layer of powdered sugar dusting the countertop. Roach sighed and shook the ash off his body so that he once again resembled newly minted copper. He could have sworn he smelt the sweetness. He suddenly skidded to a stop on the cracked asphalt. His antennae quivered. Roach wasn’t imagining it; there was a sweetness. He closed his eyes and inhaled. There! Roach snapped his head around. A piece of a brick with a large crack running through it sat to his left. Roach stared. There was something odd about that brick. He glanced up at the world around him. Pieces of ash rained from the heavens, covering everything in a layer of gray. Half-destroyed shops, some of them still smoking, lined the street. Only one of them had bricks, and a faded sign on its door (which hung on only one hinge) said “Bakery.” Bakery? Something tickled the back of his mind. There was a cookbook in the kitchen... “Bakery Treats for the Beginner.” His stomach rumbled. The days when the old woman opened the book were good days. Days where Roach got to enjoy sugar and vanilla, and perhaps a sprinkle of nutmeg. Days where he almost floated from the intoxicating aroma of chocolate-- Chocolate. Roach widened his eyes. He returned his gaze to the brick, crawled forward, and peeked inside the crack. A crumb. A human food crumb, so tucked away inside the brick it remained untouched by the raining ash. It was the color of sand with a darker brown around the edge, and about half the size of his oval body. The smell, the color, the consistency of the particles--Roach knew exactly what morsel he had found: a chocolate chip cookie crumb. Roach almost cried. Chocolate chip cookies were his favorite snack before the nuclear blast. He remembered the last time he enjoyed one--in the kitchen when the old woman decided to bake enough cookies for the whole town. He didn’t need to eat for weeks after the feast. He was sorry the old woman got blown up with the rest of them. “You’re beautiful,” Roach whispered to the crumb, who said nothing back. He took a step forward and caressed the crumb with his antenna. She really was beautiful; she almost shimmered with the sun reflecting off the small batch of chocolate decorating her edges. Roach felt a twinge of self-consciousness at his ugly, burnt copper body. “I’m Roach,” he said to the crumb, who said nothing back. He inhaled her sweetness and shuddered; none of his friends would believe this. His friends! Roach swiveled his head to the left and right, furious with himself for being so careless. He was so close to the Fort; any one of them could smell the crumb if the right breeze swept through. He turned back to the crumb-- his crumb--and a fierce wave of protectiveness washed over him. “I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured to the crumb, who said nothing back. Roach scurried around the road until he found a suitable piece of crumpled cardboard, then hurried back to his crumb. He gingerly pulled her out of the crack and wrapped her in the cardboard before setting the bundle on his back. He gave a shake. She didn’t budge. Roach spared one last glance around before scuttling away in the opposite direction of the Fort. Where to take her? The scorpions were to the north and the Grand Lake to the south. He couldn’t risk her being discovered, even if the scorpions were friends. He certainly couldn’t risk her getting soggy. He tucked the crumb more securely onto his back and began to scuttle west. Roach traveled for weeks. On clear evenings, he plucked her out of her cardboard cocoon, gently set her next to him and wrapped his antennae around her. They watched the sun paint the sky orange as it sunk below the mountaintops. On the days it rained ash particularly hard, Roach covered her in dry twigs and stood guard, coughing and sneezing as he struggled to breathe. He consumed pieces of hair and leftover sewage. She consumed nothing. They passed broken houses and demolished skyscrapers that had once towered over the streets. Roach crawled around cars and dead bodies and struggled to climb the hills. “You good back there?” Roach asked the crumb, who said nothing back. Once, she fell off of him and rolled down a steep slope. He screeched so loud he couldn’t speak for a week. The cardboard did its job spectacularly, though, and she remained in one, beautiful piece. Twice, Roach smelled a wasp buzzing near him, and he burrowed straight underground to hide his prize. Thank goodness the only survivors of the blast were the wasps and the scorpions and his kind, or Roach would be fighting a different monster every minute. Finally, a month into the journey, Roach sat inside a mountain cave with the crumb at his side. She leaned against him and together, they stared at the ashen valley spread out below them. Smoke curled from the ruins. The glow on the horizon told Roach that fires still roared in the distance. “We made it,” he whispered to the crumb, who said nothing back. He stared at her. The crust, the chocolate, the glow of dusk--he never could have imagined this. “I love you,” Roach said to the crumb, who said nothing back.


The dirt under her multicolored fingernails left a trail down his lower back as Jane Sanderson methodically clawed her way down his spine. Her legs wrapped around his waist so tight that her thighs made it hard for him to breathe. It didn't help that the rest of her calves crossed over and locked at the ankles, keeping him firmly in place. She continued using her heels as spurs against his buttocks aggressively to signal him to keep the motion. Then it happened again for the fifth time in the span of two minutes and this time she would have to throw in the towel. Her heart could not beat any faster and her lower extremities could no longer hold her prey captive. Her aging body relented, much to the dismay of her carnal desire to continue. With a final shudder and a lip biting moan of ecstasy, Jane Sanderson's toes uncurled, and her feet unhooked themselves, then her legs slid off the sweaty body of her lover and landed to a muddled thud against the white goose down comforter that was part of a neatly made bed less than ten minutes ago. She lay on her back with her hair matted in sweat against her forehead. With pursed lips, she blew a strand of her curled bangs away from her left eyelid. "Wow." One arm dangled off the side of the bed while the other wiped the sweat off her brow. He lay there beside her, on his back, staring at the texture of the ceiling, trying to focus on a spot to gather his thoughts. "Yeah, wow." Jane Sanderson floated her free hand to the nightstand, where her fingers walked along the surface until they reached her phone, which was buzzing frequently throughout her sexual escapade. A swipe of the screen revealed over a dozen notifications from her dating app. She scrolled through the messages with a raised eyebrow. The first message let her know that her anonymous hookup partner was running late, the subsequent messages relaying further delays and begging for patience and forgiveness. She turned to the man that had exhausted her to a point of dehydration and said, "You're funny. You know, you were actually early, right?" The man with his eyes half closed and on the brink of falling asleep forced his eyelids open and turned his head to face Jane. He was able to discern the fine details of her freckles and large pores along her cheeks. "Huh?" Wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he attempted to decipher what Jane had just said. He hadn't seen Jane's face clearly, outside the blur of motion, since she pulled him into her apartment and shut the door behind them. "All of these messages, silly. Your phone probably needs to be restarted because your messages came in while we were... You know?" Jane held up her screen so he could see the notifications. He squinted at first and then moved his head closer to the screen. "Hey, that's not the Mobile Munchies app." "The Mobile Munchies app?" She turned to look at the phone. "No, it's your messages from TacoRocko." His eyes widened and the contours of his face shifted from aloof to jaw dropping dread. "Lady, those aren't from me. I'm the Mobile Munchie delivery guy." "Wait, what?" Jane Sanderson quickly pulled up the corner of the comforter she was lying on and covered herself as much as she could. "Yeah, your lasagna from Eats-a-Lotta is still outside your front door." He sat up, chest bare, belly extended and resting on his lap. As the post coital clarity seeped in, he looked into Jane's eyes and back at the phone she was holding. "You didn't order lasagna, did you?" "No! Oh my gosh!" Jane's jaw dropped and she looked at the stranger in her bed and then at the messages on her phone. At that moment, another message came with the familiar sultry melodic TacoRocko notification. The message read: I'm only a half a block away. See you soon, can't wait. Jane quickly yanked at the remaining length of the comforter, nudging the delivery driver off her bed as she cocooned herself into the sweat and sex-soaked bedding. The man stood up, only wearing a smartwatch and a pair of socks. His clothing still scattered about in unknown locations throughout Jane Sanderson's cramped, yet cozy, apartment. His hands folded over his genitals in an attempt at modesty. Jane eyes broke out in tears, and she began to stifle a cry of panic that came out as a chuckle, which quickly broke out into a full laugh of hysterics. Her freckled cheeks turned flush as the blood rushed through her body at a frantic pace to match her heartbeat. The man turned to the side, trying to obstruct his privates from her gaze. He began to shiver. The former beads of sweat had now cooled from the air that flowed through the ventilation system as the cooling system cycled on. His chilled panic turned to confusion and then to amusement as laughter filled the room. "That actually happened." He tried not to laugh but the clarity of the absurdity broke him, and he joined Jane in a hearty chuckle. "I'm Jane, by the way." "I'm Ed, pleased to meet you." Jane gave his nakedness a quick once over, "Yeah, I bet you are." Ed looked around the room, scanning for the whereabouts of his clothing and affirming Jane's comment. "I should get dressed." He paused and shrugged his shoulders at Jane as a sign for some help. "Oh? Right. They're here somewhere. Give me a sec." Jane Sanderson pointed to a five-drawer chest and asked Ed to toss her some undergarments and other articles of clothing. He obliged. She promptly slipped into her clothes under the covers and emerged in a T-shirt and sweatpants. Ed stood in a corner while Jane circled her bed and explored the floor. "Nope, not here. Follow me." She opened her bedroom door and entered a narrow hallway. "Found one." She picked up his boxers and tossed them over her shoulder where he quickly snatched them mid-air. She continued down the corridor. Ed followed close behind, hopping into his undergarment one leg at a time, trying not to fall. Jane entered the main room which was where the entry door was located. She pointed to a lampshade in one corner where Ed's shirt dangled haphazardly as a fire hazard. Ed quickly retrieved his shirt. She circled past the sofa, a coffee table, and a pile of scattered magazine cutouts. "Where could it be?" she said to herself aloud. "Nice place you have here." "Thanks. It's a little out of sorts at the moment." "Oh, I’ve seen worse, believe me." "I'm sure you have. How long have you been a delivery driver for... Eats-a-Lotto?" She entered the kitchenette and searched underneath the dining table. "Only a few months. It's a side gig while something better comes up." "Oh? You married or attached?" Jane pulled out chairs, lifted up dinner plates and looked underneath them in her continued search. "No. What about you? I mean, outside of the whole TacoRocko thing." "That's a whole other story." She peeled opened the refrigerator door and rummaged inside with the intensity of someone who was searching for lost diamonds. Ed cleared his throat, "They wouldn't be in there." "What? Where?" "In the fridge, my shorts." "Right. Sorry. I'm still processing." She closed the fridge and sighed. "Understood. Same here." Ed walked alongside the kitchen counter until he reached the kitchen sink. "Hey, over here." He pointed into the sink where many dirty dishes and clouded glasses were encrusted but soaking in murky water. "Eww, I'm so sorry about that." She hooked her finger into a belt loop that was exposed at the surface of the water and pulled out Ed's shorts. The brownish water dripped into the sink and splashed onto the countertop. "I can take care of this. Really." As she jiggled his shorts, his phone slipped out of the front pocket and made a splatter after it clanked across a plate. "Okay. Maybe not." Jane stood there, holding up Ed's shorts as Ed buried his face into his palm in disbelief. Jane winced and her nose wrinkled as she reached into the depths of the grease laden, food funk of the sink. She pulled out his phone with her free hand. It was waterlogged and devoid of any functionality. "Warranty?" she asked. "Nope. I've had it for a few years now." Ed slowly brushed his fingers through his hair, contemplating the fallout from the entire series of events. He pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and sat with his head down. "Now what?" "I know it looks bad, but it can't get any worse." At that moment there was a series of short but rapid knocks at the door. Ed raised his head and broke from his inner thoughts. He looked at Jane, "TacoRocko?" "Oh crap." Jane had just finished wringing out the remaining water from Ed's shorts. "I should probably get that." "You sure about that?" Ed pointed to himself, and Jane zoned out, flowcharting the possibilities in her head. Another series of knocks. "Yeah, I should." Jane cleared a place mat on the dining table that was covered with condiments from local fast-food places and set his shorts atop it. She wiped her smelly wet hands on the back of her sweatpants, leaving handprints on her rear end. When she reached the front door, she placed her foot a few inches behind the threshold, propping the door from opening more than an inch. There was a bit of hushed negotiation back and forth with her pre-scheduled anonymous lover. He handed Jane the bag of food that Ed had previously left at the door. She quickly closed the door and returned to Ed with the delivery meant for another person. "How'd it go?" he asked, while patting down his phone with a nearby kitchen towel. She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Lasagna?" "You know that's someone else's, right?" He held up his dead phone and shook a few more droplets of dirty water out of it. "Eh, I’ve probably already gotten dinged on that order, anyway. Sure, I could use a bite after all this." "I've got a washer and dryer combo in the next room. I can take care of your shorts. You want to heat this up? Microwave is over there." Jane handed him the bag and retrieved his shorts from the place mat. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?" "I guess not." She disappeared into the adjacent room with his formerly dry shorts in hand and a promise to be right back. Ed navigated the options on the microwave panel and left the lasagna to rotate on the glass tray as he examined his surroundings. The refrigerator door, covered with a collection of magnetic decor with phrases of affirmation and positive sayings, was framing a few wallet sized photos of Jane, alone, posing in casual clothing at various locales that Ed didn't recognize. Jane returned and closed the door behind her, muffling the sound of the washing machine as it teetered and creaked while filling with water. "It should only be an hour, I'm guessing." The microwave beeped. "Right on time." Ed opened the microwave door and steam, followed by the aromatic scent of pasta with Italian seasonings, replaced the sour funk of the kitchen sink that had permeated throughout the area. Jane cleared as much of the table as she could without spilling the excess clutter onto the floor. She directed Ed to a cabinet that held plates and a drawer that had utensils. The two sat at opposing ends of the squared surface and took their first few bites in silence. "So..." Ed broke the quiet vibe as his mouth was still processing the bites into smaller digestible ones. "About earlier, that was something, right?" Jane looked up from her plate, wiped the gooey cheese from the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, it was something." "Something good?" His eyebrows raised as he twirled his fork in the air. "Oh, it was something very good. What about you." "Well, considering I was only supposed to be delivering food, it was a great - something." They both gave each other a crooked smile. Each one took another bite, chewed, and swallowed with a glow about them that only they could see. Ed set his fork down, interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin atop them. "You never got a chance to tell your long story." "Oh?" Jane swallowed the small mouthful of the saucy pasta. "I was told to live a little. To get out of my shell and do something spontaneous." "And this is what you chose to do?" "Look, this not something I do at all, it's outside my dull and uneventful norm, and it was a first." "I see. Will it also be your last?" "Well, all things considered..." Jane hedged and shifted food around her plate. Her eyes went off to the corner of her kitchen in contemplation. "What did you think of Mr. TacoRocko? Or were they a Miss TacoRocko?" "I don't know, he seemed a bit much, and he had a bulbous nose." "A bulbous nose?" "Yeah, like someone just threw putty onto his face and put to nostrils in there." "The nose is a deal breaker?" "Well, no, but... Yeah, I guess it is. I mean, it's a lot more surface area than a pointy one like yours." Jane motioned to Ed's narrow bridged nose. "You mean this bird beak?" "It has its advantages." "Like?" Ed leaned in; his eyes crossed as he looked down at his own nose in curious amusement. "Well, like when you went down there." "Oh?" "Yeah." "That did it for you?" "It very much played a part." "You're a woman who knows her noses," "Yes, I do," Jane smirked, taking another bite. The two conversed throughout the washing and drying cycle of Ed's shorts. Once the article of clothing was dry, Ed had to take his leave. The two lingered at the threshold of the doorway. "You don't suppose there's a tip involved? You know, for the food at least? "I'm really sorry about everything. Well, about everything before and after... You know..." "Yeah, well, I'd give you my number, but there’s no telling when this thing gets replaced." Ed taps his phone through his front pocket and frowns. "We'll always have lasagna." Jane Sanderson slowly closed the door, pausing before it latched completely.


Facing a financial crunch, I found myself unable to scrape together enough cash for my car registration this month. Frustrated and desperate, I did the unthinkable: I summoned the devil. In a swirl of smoke and brimstone, there he stood before me, all horns and tail, looking utterly bemused. "You called?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder. Heart racing, I blurted out my proposal. "I'll trade you my soul for the next three months' worth of car rego." The devil blinked, a mix of confusion and amusement crossing his demonic features. "Are... are you serious?" he finally managed. "Yeah, dude," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the gravity of the situation. "Can't afford it this month." He shook his head slowly, incredulously. "Bro... You could ask for literally anything else in the world, and you're asking for car rego for the next three months?" I shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed now. "Yeah, tough times, you know. Maybe I should have asked for a whole year instead. Can you do that?" "Dude," the devil sighed, shaking his head again, "I'm not going to allow you to do this." "But bro," I pleaded, "I really need it. Can't drive without it." With an unexpected gesture of compassion, the devil placed a hand on my shoulder. "I'm not making the deal," he said firmly, "but I'll give you that rego." I stared at him in shock. "Wait, seriously? Does this mean we're bros now?" A grin tugged at the corners of the devil's mouth. "Hell yeah, bro. We're bros." And just like that, I had struck an unconventional friendship with the devil himself over car registration. It wasn't exactly how I envisioned my day going, but hey, life's full of surprises. As the weeks passed, I couldn't shake off the surrealness of having the devil as my "bro." We'd occasionally catch up over coffee (black, naturally) and discuss mundane things like weather patterns in Hell or the best way to haggle with a soul collector. Despite his fearsome reputation, the devil turned out to be surprisingly chill, with a wicked sense of humor and a knack for card tricks. Our friendship was unconventional, to say the least, but it worked. And as for my soul? Well, it seemed the devil was more interested in our broship than collecting on our initial deal. Perhaps he saw something in me worth keeping around. Or maybe he just enjoyed the novelty of having a mortal buddy who could hold his own in banter. Either way, I learned that sometimes, the most unexpected bonds can form in the strangest of circumstances. So here's to you, Mr. Devil--thanks for covering my rego and being the bro I never knew I needed. In the end, I realized that making deals with the devil might not be the wisest choice, but it sure made for one heck of a story to tell at parties. And as long as the devil kept his end of the bargain by not taking my soul, I was happy to call him my bro. And that's how I became bros with the devil.


"Have you heard of the rumours about Windy Beck Lake?" Katie asked Ruth as she got prepared for camp, Ruth wasn't a believer of urban legends or myths, so she sarcastically replied with "Let me guess, another Nessie?". Katie chuckled and said "No, actually! They say that the lake is home to the aquatic witches!" with an attempted spooky tone in her voice. Ruth just rolled her eyes and packed her things, they later got into their car and drove to Windy Beck. The drive went on for 8 hours, which seemed like forever. Katie and Ruth eventually reached the Windy Beck campsite, as the two girls got out of their car, Ruth noticed that there were a bunch of missing posters all over the trees, it made her feel uncomfortable but she didn't want to upset her friend. They set the tents up, made a campfire, and brought out the delicious marshmallows. As Katie tried to practice her guitar music, Ruth decided to explore the place a bit. She looked over the massive lake that was sparkling due to the moonlight, then she noticed a sign that read "**DO NOT SWIM IN THIS LAKE**". "Oh that is very spooky" Katie said unexpectedly behind Ruth, giving her a fright. She turned around but Katie was completely naked, she blushed and said "K-Katie? Why are you naked?" to which she replied "Skinny dipping, what else you think?". Ruth wasn't fond of the idea of her friend swimming naked in a lake with a warning sign, so she blocked her way and said "What if piranhas were in there!" in a worried-demanding tone. Katie smiled and said "You're scared of the water, are you pussycat?" mockingly. "N-No! I'm just..." Ruth said to her but couldn't find the other words, Katie laughed and dived straight into the lake. "Fine! You convinced me!" Ruth said as she stripped her clothes and also dived into the lake, they were both having a fun time despite the water being cold as ice. They continuously splashed at each other, dived underwater a few times, and just had an awesome time. After minutes of skinny dipping fun, Ruth got out of the water, still nude. "That wasn't pretty bad, Katie! We should do that more often!" Ruth said to her as walked over to her clothes, but no response was heard, only a splash. "Katie?" she called out as she looked behind her to see that Katie had disappeared, she sighed in annoyance and said "C'mon! Don't make me stand here cold and butt-naked!" but still no response. With no other option, Ruth dived back into the lake to search for Katie, with the only light source being the moonlight above. As she swam a little deeper into the darkness, two eyes that glowed red appeared, then the "eyes" swam towards to reveal it's true form; A completely naked overweight woman with light-blue skin and long black hair, she was also twice the size than Ruth, making her look small. Her eyes widen in horror as the witch was coming at her, in a hurry, she attempted to swim back up to the surface but something grabbed her by the ankle. She looked down and it was another witch, literally a copy of her. Then she was dragged into the darkness as Ruth looked around in panic as more witches swarmed her, piling on top of her. Ruth and Katie were never found, as their faces were put into two new missing posters.