They lied in the bed motionless, sweaty, and exhausted. Air was the only blanket he couldn’t remove, and even that was weighing him down with a heavy layer of heat. The entire world was an oven that could not be escaped. The fires raged on. She had turned on a miniature metaphorical air conditioning unit on by opening the bedroom window as he had requested. But in the moment, there would be no relief. It was a happy suffering, though, for both parties Theo presumed. The climax of sexual intercourse had subsided, but the aroma of satisfaction had lingered. There was a smell wafting through the room. “It smells like sex in here.” Theo announced, not sure of what to say. “What the fuck else would it smell like.”, retorted Fae, sarcastically as she rose from the mattress and threw on a sweater she grabbed from the floor too short to cover her lower half. Theo noticed the thick layer of snow that weeks worth of dirty clothes had formed on what he understood was a hardwood floor. He didn’t mind, it was a nice change from what he was used to seeing in a lover’s bedroom. Once returning to the bed, she removed the sweater. Theo found the application and subsequent removal of the sweater odd, yet remained silent . She hopped under the covers, seemingly unphased. *How is she not dying,* thought Theo, as he melted into the sheets. Fae was cool, in temperature as well as temperament. This seemed almost normal to her. As if it were any other night. The ever-analysing Theo noticed she wasn’t very cuddly as this moment, which may mean she was sexually satisfied as he had read online previously. Another side of Theo told him that she didn’t want to because she was unattracted to him, as he was heavier-set than the typical young adult. They had cuddled extensively the past three occasions, so he reassured himself that his initial thought must be true. *Who doesn’t love cuddling a fat guy?* Theo thought. For once he thought in his own favour. They sat in silence as their heavy breathing had gradually subsided. “How was that for you?”, Theo inquired as he always does. “It was good”. Fae replied. Theo didn’t know why he would always ask. It was just a given. It was not as though she would say anything unpleasant anyway as post-sex was not the optimal time for confrontation. He dived deep into his mind, realizing he may have an unresolved need for reassurance. It was most likely true. Where it came from though, he did not know. Hopefully he would reflect on that later. For now he was focused on his ‘partner’ beside him. She was the most attractive person he’d ever been with, bar none. She looked similar to Ary in that she was short, a shade over five feet. That was where the comparison ended, though. She had long dirty blond hair that would always get caught between them. He had never checked, but he could’ve sworn it had to have gone down to the lower half of her back, if not the peak of her cheeks. Her cheeks where amazing, the ones on her face as well as those on her posterior. He wasn’t sure which he enjoyed more, her smile or her thick ass. Probably her ass. He also acknowledged her breasts. Which were fairly large for her size. Theo knew they were larger than Ary’s had been, definitively. Her most arousing feature, though, were her eyes. They were the brightest possible shade of blue. Lighter than the clearest lake and just as moist. Whenever they would converse, he had to avoid looking into them because he would get lost. He would lose track of what she was talking about. They were dangerous, and he would do anything to feed that addiction. She wore glasses occasionally, which he found attractive even if she despised them. Funnily enough she couldn’t really see. Wearing the glasses was a win-win for both. He couldn’t believe he had managed to de-clothe a woman so attractive, so out of his league, and so soon after his previous relationship. “Want a hit of that?”, she said seemingly out of the blue, staring at the half smoked joint at the side of the bed in a mason jar. Theo stumbled a bit on his words before replying, “Uh, no I think ill be fine”. In his own head he wondered whether she would think it was cool that he decided when he wanted to get high or not, or if he was being a pussy. This is where Theo’s mind went naturally, and typically. He would tell himself ironically that his greatest talent was overthinking. Eventually, when their bodies cooled off, Fae shuffled on closer to Theo and wrapped herself in him, to his satisfaction. His face was pressed in her bosom, while his left leg was intertwined between hers. He thought his leg was probably too close to her slit, so he retracted it ever so slightly unbeknownst to her. He felt relief. It was nice to be cuddled again. It had only been a couple of months, but at one point he thought he would never feel it again. For ten years he had taken cuddling for granted. She ran her hands across his back, back and forth as she was wont to do. It tickled him slightly uncomfortably, but he decided he enjoyed it and let her continue. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but a silence he thought both parties were enjoying. Silence, however, was Theo’s bane. He was always anxious of silence, presuming it was of the awkward fashion. He decided that this moment was of the acceptable kind, so he let it slide just this once. It had been his fourth time at her apartment in two weeks. He had gone there the first two times drunk, and the last two times he went sober. The third time he went sober and they ended up getting drunk. The fourth, he was essentially sober throughout the duration with a couple glasses of wine mixed in. All four times he spent the night. He thought she must’ve enjoyed his company if she keeps letting him stay until the next morning. The first night he left at the break of dawn. Partly because of nerves and anxiety, and partly because of having to attend class. They had been up until roughly 5:30am. To say he was well rested was a flat out lie. The second time he stayed until the next afternoon. That night they had been awake at 6:00am, the last time he had checked his phone. They woke up in the late morning, relaxed, then she drove him home. The third and fourth time Theo had gone during the daytime hours, sober. They would talk, watch Netflix, cook for each other, and fuck until the sun began to sprout. They had yet to sleep before 1:00am. Though the clock would tick less each time they hung out. He wasn’t sure how he did It. But he was essentially staying at her place twice a week. Theo had no intention of being in this position. Hell, less than 2 months ago he had never envisioned sleeping next to someone with blonde hair. He distinctly remembered thinking, before Ary had left, that Fae was incredibly attractive, but a forbidden fruit. He was spoken for. Now, he had free speech. His own free speech. Theo had thought very little of himself and figured it would take years for something like this to happen. One night at the local club they regularly attended, Theo, feeling confident after many drinks, had asked her to dance. That ended up as their first night together. He remembered laughing to himself as his classmate, Ron, picked him up in the morning. Ron had told Theo he was glowing. Theo knew exactly what he was talking about as that was how he felt too. This all was new and exciting to Theo. He had never done anything resembling this in his 25 years of life. Drinking, going back to someone’s house, and sleeping with them. This seemed standard for other humans. He was just excited to be apart of it. What he wasn’t sure was normal were the two sober nights. It seemed odd that they continued this sexual escapade. He figured he must be doing something right. It was the two additional appointments that also confused him. Again, this was new to him, especially this part. Was this the beginning of a new relationship? Was she only interested in the sex? What’s the next move? Theo, as always, was unsure. He was over Ary but was frequently told not to jump into something too quickly. That was not his intention whatsoever. Theo was extremely fond of Fae, this is true, but he wouldn’t admit that he was actively chasing her. He was, however, just trying to live in the moment and not worry about it now. He knew eventually, if this kept up, that they would have to have that conversation. It became apparent to Theo that he was addicted. He was hooked on the uncertainty, the risk. For 10 years he had been complacent when it came to women. He had no need to care what they thought, or even visualize them as sexual partners for anything more than his spank bank. Now though, anything could happen with anyone at anytime, it seemed. It was addicting. When Fae and Theo were apart they would barely communicate. Theo would ride the ups and downs of the wave that was virtual communication. Occasionally, she would initiate conversation. This would always get Theo high. However, a few messages later she would leave him on read, as the kids say. As often as this happened to Theo, he would do the same. It was a cycle. It was stressful for him. The lows were Hades and the highs were Mount Olympus. This new found chase and run was a new feeling, and he liked it. Every time he left her place, he would leave happy, satisfied. As soon as he left he would feel despair and regret for things unsaid and unspoken, then he would feel towards the sense he would never return. Always, in the middle of the week, communication would ramp up and he’d find himself back there. Albeit a small sample size, there was a pattern. At this moment Theo had not noticed. Now they both lie in the bed, finally relaxed and cooled. “If we were quarantined for an indefinite period of time, and we weren’t in school right now, what would you be doing?” Questioned Theo. This was Theo’s favorite part of sex: pillow talk. He enjoyed it especially now because she also seemed to enjoy it. It was nice to have a partner who appreciated long, deep conversations as much as him. “Oh wow, uh…”. She paused momentarily, then snickered, “that question makes me feel like I don’t do anything or have any hobbies.” Theo laughed before replying. “Well if you couldn’t go outside for weeks, you could only watch so many movies, right? Eventually you would get bored. After lounging around and doing fuck all for a few days, what would be the next best thing you would do so you wouldn’t lose your mind? Or like what would be the first thing you would like to catch up on or spend more time doing? “Uhh ok, I know, I would be painting. I love to paint. I like to use acrylic paint mostly. I haven’t been able to do much recently and I’d love to get back into that. If you’ve looked closely you would’ve seen that I painted that fridge magnet. That’s all I have here of examples of my painting.” Theo proceeded to get out of bed, still naked, appendage swinging about. He returned momentarily. “That’s nice, I’d love to see more of your work sometime. I love when people get excited about things they do, no matter how dorky or how much I don’t understand.” He explained. “Ya, maybe sometime. For now, you’ll just have to stare at the mountains and trees on the magnet. Don’t ask for my inspiration, because I didn’t have any. Just drew cute shit.” They both chuckled. He put his head in her bosom again, where he felt comforted and safe. Only for a moment though, as he followed up the question. “Have you ever been to the mountains?’ “Ya, only one time.” She paused. “I haven’t really been away from home or out of the country. Even three years ago the farthest I had been was Edmonton and I have family there so that why. I went to Jasper a couple years ago with my family. It was so beautiful, Theo. I want to go back so bad sometime. I mean I don’t have the time right now, but sometime, maybe this summer I would like to go again, or at least somewhere like it.” She drew a large breath as she often forgot to breathe. Theo thought it was so cute and funny that she would do that. Hearing his name on another woman’s lips was also something Theo appreciated. Theo felt bad for her that she hadn’t been many places. Theo himself had been across the world. Not so much as a student of the world, or an individual trying to find their self, but a respectable amount. He had been to Italy, Greece, Mexico, across Canada, and Cuba to name a few. He knew that it was a bad time to mention that as she had been deprived of it. He also thought about saying that he would take her to the mountains again. Cooler heads prevailed though as he stopped himself in his tracks. *That would’ve been a little presumptuous and goofy,* Theo thought. He smiled and replied, “I really do hope you get to go back someday, and I hope you can travel like you seem to want to.” She smirked in response. This is what Theo loved about pillow talking, how it could start at one place and end in another. In the end, both parties would learn about each other too. He loved getting to know people. After sex with someone is the best opportunity for that as there is no longer the professional or social mask that people wear. During sex you see the ugliest parts of people; their ridiculous O-faces, or their nastiest desires. In the end, there is nothing left to hide as the mask that would conceal all your dark wants and desires is lifted. This leaves a perfect opportunity to get down to the person, Theo would tell himself. After sex, Fae’s nasty wants and desires were apparent. Even during sex they could be seen, too. Some would call her a freak. Theo just thought it was awesome that she knew what she liked. She liked it rough. Occasionally Theo would choke her, slap her ass, and squeeze her nipples. She liked the pain. Theo was always worried that he was being too aggressive. After some contemplation he understood that she would tell him if it was, as she always would tell it as it was. He enjoyed being with someone who was comfortable with their own sexuality, no matter how odd. After being with Ary for years, who wasn’t sure what she liked sexually, let alone masturbated, it was refreshing. They continued on the subject, fucked again, then slowly faded into sleep. It was 01:45 am. Morning came all too quickly. The large, clothe-ridden floor of her apartment bedroom was pierced with rays of early morning sunlight. The room was lit, almost completely it seemed. For the second consecutive time, she had forgotten to lower the shades before fading into sleep. There were two large and slender, 6’ - 0” x 3’- 0” windows. The glazing unit furthest from the bed was the same she had opened for ventilation the night prior. Theo was unsure if the window behind the bed was operable. No matter the operation, the windows were allowing in sunlight to the best of their potential. It appeared the sun’s rays were penetrating on all sides of the apartment complex. Sleeping was no longer an option. Theo did not rest well in the daylight he remembered. When he was younger, he would spend most of his free time at his friend Larry’s place. They were close when they were children now estranged. He would stay the night consistently through Elementary and High School. It was a home away from home. The windows were much larger in his house, however. The window spanned nearly the entire wall. Theo would lie in bed, awake. He would be the only one conscious, left alone to his thoughts. He would wait hours before the house was awoke. In those days he didn’t have a phone accessible within arms reach, so he would never know the time. He now found himself in a similar situation, albeit with a device to check the time. He started at the ceiling momentarily. Processing the night before, smiling, he thought of their conversations, the great sex. She had let him finish inside her. She said she had a device that prevented pregnancy. He didn’t know the complexity or details of the device, but he believed her. She had told him that the second time they fucked, even though the first occasion they didn’t use protection. He could almost hear his mother’s furious tone, instructing him to be safe. He had been safe every other sexual encounter in the past 10 years. *Fuck it,* Theo would think. It felt too good not to, even though he rarely would finish. He perceived that to be unusual as he is usually premature. These were new times, new experiences, and new sex. He continued grinning. He couldn’t believe he was here, so soon. He turned his body to her. Her back turned to him, he couldn’t help but compare. *She’s small, and long haired. She almost looks like her hair is dark in the shade of the suns arms. Those curves are similar, I mean for Christ’s sake they have the same birthmark in their ‘V’.* He reached his arm to her hips, elbow half extended. He laid his arm there. It was soft, yet rough on her scaley portion. He would often ponder that her skin reflected her personality. The typical skin was moist and plump. The odd section of skin would expose her Psoriasis. Said aloud, ‘her skin is soft and rigid’, it presented her body as an oxymoron. The comparison to her personality was that she was rigid, tough, aggressive, and sassy. At the same time, she was extremely soft and empathetic to others and their feelings. She was two things that were opposite to each other. He loved the feeling of her skin, though. Theo could tell she was a little conservative and anxious about her skin and her ailment. He did not care, he enjoyed the poetry it depicted. The rough skin almost felt nice, the way a cat’s tongue feels as it licks. After holding his hand on her hip momentarily, he determined she was not yet awake. Once again he was left alone to his thoughts. Initially, his thought were positive, euphoric in a sense. Over the course of an hour, his mind descended, as it does. It started at thoughts such as, ‘I wonder if she had a good time.’, to, ’She probably didn’t want him here anymore, or at all. She got what she needed. Your just an annoyance.’ He hadn’t thought these thoughts about anyone since Ary, two months ago. It could be assumed that was because there wasn’t another occasion where it could be possibly before today, and after the dumping. He noticed the dark pattern and tried to shake himself out of it. He told himself he had, but unconsciously continued the pattern. She rolled over, caressed his arm, indicating she was awake and melting his anxieties away. Her normally large, moist, lake-blue eyes were dry, squinty, slits. She looked tired and barely awake. “Morning.”, she mumbled out while dipping her head into the crevice between his chest and arm pit. “Morning,” Theo said while giggling at her tiredness, “How was your sleep?”. “I need more”. Theo caressed her momentarily. She reciprocated. He then removed his body from hers, and proceeded to apply undergarments and explained that he had to attend an online class. “Ugh, I should get up to.” She managed while remaining motionless. She was lazy and unmotivated. It was like her and his ex were polar opposites. Once half-clothed in underwear and kahkies, he waddled over to the couch, where he left his laptop. He opened it, attended his class, shirtless, belly exposed. He was thankful the class required no student video or he would have been laughed at extensively. The class lasted 20 minutes in what Theo had perceived to be pointless. He regretted leaving the bed, while closing his laptop. He was fully awake now. He trotted carefully back to her room. “You want breakfast?” “mmmm, yeah I would.” Theo shuffled back to her small kitchen, which still appeared as though a herd of bulls had rammed through from the night before. The night before they cooked shrimp fettucine alfredo, which required a lot of cookware. She also only had one sink, and limited counterspace, hence the mess. Theo grabbed the leftover mushrooms from the fridge along with eggs. He built fried eggs and sautéed mushrooms. He called her out to eat. While Theo had a pep in his step, Fae was sluggish. Tired, she staggered to the couch, where she usually ate. She was a slow eater, he noticed. He didn’t spite that. It was a reminder, though. He didn’t need any reminders right now. Those were negative and detrimental he thought. He ignored the thought, grabbed his food and ate beside her on the couch. They talked for a while, in between online classes. They conversed about the night before. Theo apologized for the undercooked fettucine, while she argued that they were fine. They talked about her classes. They made fun of the teachers. They laughed. It was a good morning. Though, Theo detected an increase of awkward silences as time passed. With it being now close to noon, and the fact that she had to work on a presentation, Theo determined it was time to leave. “I better get going, I have work to do, and I don’t want to bother you with your work. I hope you enjoyed me cooking for you, twice. I like feeding you. Even if my noodles are a bit on the al dante side.” He joked while putting on his coat and edging towards the door. She acknowledged he should leave. He couldn’t tell if that was what she wanted or if she was okay with him leaving. He figured she would have told him to leave if that’s what she wanted. She followed him to the door as he was installing his shoes to his feet. “I have fun when I’m here. You’re really easy to talk to. It’s great. Let’s do this again sometime. “, he said, not sure of what else to say. Then, he wasn’t sure what the next move was. Does he go for a kiss? Does he walk out the door? Hug? He was unsure. “Ya me too, I have a good time with you”. She replied with a smile. In that moment he decided: *A kiss it is.* He leaned in, anxiously smiling. She grabbed his head in closer and tangled their lips, occasionally their tongues. He figured the kiss lasted about 40 seconds. It was 40 seconds of aggressive kissing, groping, and lip biting. She lightly pressed her hand against his chest, indicating wanted separation. “You’d better go.” Fae some how said sternly while maintaining a loose smirk. Theo now regretted his decision to leave, but not the decision to lean in. He said goodbye and walked out the apartment complex down two flights of stairs. He opened the glass door leading to the exterior. He unlocked and opened the driver door of his two-door Volvo, started it and drove away. He made a point of not looking back to her second floor window which was centered over the front entrance of the building. As soon as he was out of viewing range from the apartment, he smiled ear to ear. The silence of the road with cut with a sharp, “WOOOOOOOO!”, emitting from Theo’s throat. He felt alive. Now that they were apart, the roller coaster began. Positivity was in abundance Friday, the day he went home, Saturday and Sunday. With each passing day, doubt crept into his mind. ‘Why hasn’t she texted me yet.’ Theo remembered thinking Monday morning before class. All day during various lectures Theo wondered and received no answer or text. He remembered them lying in bed, with his right leg between her two. It was a great moment, so he thought. ‘Does Fae not feel the same about that? Am I just a means to an end for her?’ Even though they had spent so much time together over the past two weeks, his mind trembled with fear. He told himself he didn’t care about her, that this was just a fling. Deep down though, he knew he could not get hurt again. Ary had done damage to him. After 10 years, 10 years, she had called him to tell him that it was over. No forecast could have predicting the downfall. He received no closure, no reassurance, nothing. She had told him the classic, it’s not you it’s me line that would be seen in 9/10 romantic comedies. Although, prior to saying this she had brought to light some character flaws of his. It was most definitely a mixed message. She left him high and dry. She left him alone. She left him shattered. He was over her, only two months later. Anxiety had taken him. The mind inside Theo had convinced him that he was nothing to her, to both of them. That he was nothing to anybody. Theo descended, self-confidence at an all time low. He spoke to no one unless out of necessity for all of Wednesday. He was shattered again, left thinking of the women who left him. Ary had never liked him, just used him for personal need, he told himself. Now Fae, too. At rock bottom, he was all alone. It was Thursday afternoon that he received a message from Fae. It was a meaningless snapchat. Theo didn’t even look at the words. He just stared at the eyes on the screen. *How could eyes possibly be that fucking moist,* Theo thought, bewildered. He left the picture open for 10 minutes, staring, before he let the picture disintegrate into virtual thin air. He didn’t even reply. He sat on his couch wondering how he got so lucky. Was it right time, right place? He would never know. He knew now that he was in the right place at the present. Now he was on top of the wave. He was euphoric. Despite not answering then, conversation had commenced, as the pattern would typically follow. They had arranged another meeting at her apartment for Saturday afternoon. They planned nothing but to spend time together. Saturday, as he left to her place as to arrive fashionably late, he began to worry. The worries stretched from, ‘what do I say?’ to, ’am I replacing Ary? Am I doing what I was told by so many not to do?’. He didn’t care, he was over her. If that was were the wave was headed, then follow it. He continued, feeling light, feeling free. His phone rang in his right-side pocket. While driving he pulled it out. The smile on his face diffused as the word ‘Aryanne:)’ displayed on the center of the screen with an option in red, and an option in green below. While waiting to decide his path he arrived at the apartment. The Volvo was now parked directly across from the window centered above the entry. Fae stared at him through the window, smiling, as he tapped on the green option on his phone.


One day, the Angel–named Emil–is left alone in the cage that he spends all of his time in. The metal bars dig into his knees and the chains around his wrists and ankles rattle with each movement, catching on his skin and scraping it raw. There’s dried blood on his back, infected wounds all over his skin and Emil thinks there is nothing worse than this. Even Hell itself is a better fate. At one point he thinks he can see the figure of a tall, slender man leaned up against the corner of the room. He has a familiar way about him; the way he stands is so casual, so friendly… something that Emil hasn’t been used to in a long time now. He’s dressed in a French Soldier’s uniform, hands coated with dirt, hair a disheveled mess from being beneath a hat for quite some time. The man is dirty, but he’s inviting… something Emil finds comforting. Still there is this familiarity about him and the Angel whimpers, reaching out a chained hand to try and grasp at him. Alas, he is too far. The man steps forward, just in reach of the cage and he crouches down in front of the bars, reaching a hand through to touch Emil. His fingers are gentle across his wrist and the Angel lets out another whimper, trying to scoot closer into the touch, so deprived of it. Now that the man is closer, Emil does recognize him… they fought together, so long ago now it feels like. “Ludvig…?” Emil’s voice is hoarse from lack of use; he isn’t sure the last time he’s had a proper drink of water either and speaking feels like scraping his throat raw. “Gosh, Emil. Didn’t recognize me?” The man has a playful smirk on his lips and Emil huffs a tired chuckle, glancing down at the wood panels beneath the cage.

“No… no, not at first. How did you– how did you find me?”

“We always find each other, Emil… don’t we?” Ludvig tilts his head with a small smile, and the Angel nods. Ludvig keeps brushing his fingertips gently across the skin of Emil’s forearm, but Emil can’t actually feel anything. It’s odd, but…

“Yeah, I guess so. Ludvig, can you…” Emil chokes on a breath, lips parted as a tear falls down a dirt stained cheek. “Can you let me out?” “Let you out?” He laughs, shaking his head. “What do you mean?” The question confuses Emil, because how clear could he even be? “Of the… the cage, Ludvig, what else?” His voice sounds so weak and there is that confusion laced in it as he watches Ludvig, who just stares at him with a mostly blank expression. “Are you playing jokes on me, Emil? There’s no cage.” Ludvig chuckles, and all of a sudden the Angel is being wrapped in a warm hug and Ludvig is right– there isn’t a cage, not at all. Instead they are in a grassy field sitting comfortably beneath a willow tree, the wind blowing gently through their hair. Emil tilts his head to look up at Ludvig, who leans down to capture Emil’s lips in a gentle kiss. It isn’t warm, isn’t cold… just a kiss. Emil chooses not to focus on the fact he cannot feel it, instead just running his fingers up through the light brown strands of Ludvig’s hair.

“No cage… I’m free?” Emil says it like a question, looking around at the grass around them, taking in the leaves scattered throughout the field and the windmill turning several feet away. Emil feels a relief that takes the weight off his shoulders, leaning into Ludvig tiredly. Like finally, he’s done fighting. He’s safe. … But is he? Still even this close Ludvig’s touch feels distant, like something he craves so badly but is just out of reach. No matter how hard Emil tries, he will never quite reach through the bars and grasp a friendly hand. The Angel looks upward at Ludvig, squinting in the sunlight. Something feels… it feels off, and Emil isn’t sure why.

Ludvig looks real— sounds real even but he doesn’t feel real. Emil’s lips part and he lets out a quiet breath, brown eyes tracing every line of Ludvig’s face as if committing it to memory. “Ludvig…”

“Yes, Angel?” Emil smiles at the nickname, rubbing at his knee; the action hurts but not his knee, his wrists. They hurt, sitting here with nothing hitting up against them— they hurt.

“You’re not real… are you?” Emil chokes on the words, more tears rolling down his cheeks. Ludvig notices and wipes them away, concern clear in his gaze. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, holding Emil’s face in his hands and then suddenly they are back in that room… Emil back in that cage. Ludvig is on the outside of the bars, holding them gently as he had been holding Emil’s face. He frowns again, leaning closer to the bars as he watches Emil. “… You want me to be.” The words strike through Emil like a knife to the heart. He didn’t want to be right.

“I need you to be.” Emil cries, and it hurts his throat. “I need you to be,” He starts repeating this like a mantra, rocking forward in the cage with blood dripping down his forearms from the wounds around his wrists, having reopened them with the constant movement of his chains.

“Emil… Emil, I’m not, but– you’ve gotta hold on. One day I will be and we don’t want to miss that, right?” Ludvig, or this mirage of him, tries to reassure Emil, still just holding onto the bars of the cage. His image is starting to get fuzzy, slowly starting to fade into the background, and Emil watches as he flickers in and out of his vision. Not real… not real. It’s just another reminder and Emil sobs, reaching his hand out to try and grasp the other but the reach is too far. “Don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone here, I can’t do this without you.” He hiccups, voice still weak.

“I’m not real, Emil. You have to help yourself.” Ludvig is slowly fading out now, the more Emil fully realizes that Ludvig really is in fact not there. He sniffs, looking down for a moment. “O-okay… okay.” Emil isn’t sure if he could, but he has to. He will, for this visage of Ludvig that his mind conjured up. He’s about to say something else when he looks up, noticing that Ludvig is gone and Emil is once again left alone in the cage, with nothing but his overwhelming thoughts. Grief, sadness, anger… pain . He feels so much all at once and the only way Emil can deal with it right now is by curling in on himself, forehead to the ground and knees tucked beneath him as he sobs into the wooden floor. Emil will wait. He will wait until the day that Ludvig being there is real, and that’s what will keep him going. Seeing the love of his life again… … For real this time.


Men sweated all around her, but Karen Fleiss felt the heat only as a pleasant baking sensation after the cool of the SUV. She knelt next to the exposed footer to read the letters printed there. SHAWN She smiled. The name was blocked out in a childish hand, made clumsy by the drag of wet concrete. Still obscured by dirt and washed out in the high desert sun, it was surrounded by markings she couldn’t quite make out, but which seemed to place the name at the center of an eye with spiky lashes all around. She imagined the little boy, barefoot and dirty, scratching doodles around his signature, then running off with a grin. Into the wash, into the hills and scrub, in search of further mischief while his family finished constructing their new home. These days he’d be sitting in the car with a tablet. She would have it kept, of course. The name. Gene probably figured that much out already. He’d thought to point it out to her, after all, during her morning inspection. After six months, three designers, and five blueprints, he knew her tastes. It looked a little rough to go over the fireplace, but maybe it could be incorporated into some other part of the hearth. She already had plans to reuse concrete from the demolished footer. Maybe there were more designs. It would add a nice touch. A sense of continuity. Karen loved repurposed material. “Kid could be my age by now,” Gene offered cheerfully, standing behind her. Karen did not like that thought. She had been reaching out to touch the letters. Now she dropped her hand. A fresh-faced cherub was one thing. A middle-aged man was another. Sweet kids grew into terrible adults all the time. Now she had to think about things like whether or not Shawn had a criminal record. Gene Naddler did, she knew. Just the one offense, which she’d found before hiring him. She eventually decided to overlook it, since he came so highly recommended. That’s why Karen reserved her affection for animals and children, especially animals. They, at least, stayed innocent. That’s what she told her political young niece, whenever she went on about whatever new injustice was bothering her. It’s what she told those activists always accosting her on the way into the store, looking for money. I donate to the Humane Society. That’s why she was out here. A cattle-guard between her and everybody else’s problems. No one else’s buildings fencing in her stars. No one else’s light washing them out. She loved the space. She loved the sky. And all just a 5-minute drive into the city. Jess would of course be welcome to bring her children out to run around, like Shawn, if they could all just give up their screens and their causes for a day. “I thought the house was older than that,” she said, frowning. “An addition,” Gene explained, pointing. “Older style, with a footer instead of a slab, but abutted to the original wall.” “Hmm,” she said. “I’ve got to go.” “Got everything handled here, ma’am,” he replied, then sobered. “Good luck today.” With any luck, you can beat this, the doctors had said. We're doing everything we can. She nodded but said nothing, looking back at the name with the odd symbol scrawled around it. It was smudged at one end of the eye, like it had originally been a closed shape but got spoiled at the last minute by a careless finger. She wondered if that had upset the child. She reached out to touch the place… … and stood back to study her work, the stick still dangling from a thin left hand, caked in grey. She pushed a wild hank of hair back from her forehead. Shawn did not smile. “Now this room is yours forever,” said a voice behind her. “You’re written into the foundation. You’ll go right up through the walls.” Shawn continued to stare at her name in the fading light. Gloaming, the time in-between, when everything you did mattered a little bit more. “It’ll be safe out here,” her mother promised. Would it? Shawn thought of the people back in town. She thought of their eyes. She looked back at the lights of the small city, laid out on the valley floor. She watched the windows, winking open one by one. Those eyes would follow her, eventually, even here. They’d dot every hill, climb every ravine. Her mother didn’t know that, but she did. And they would all stare. “Why did we have to come here?” Her mother did not reply. “Why don’t you ever smile?” a boy had demanded once at school, before her mother had taken her out. “Why don’t you ever look at anyone?” She thought about that boy. His voice. Something hurt behind it that she couldn’t fix. She thought about the girl down the street, who didn’t mind all that, and how Shawn used to teach her spells, until one day she stopped coming over. She thought of Ms. May, and how she had only ever tried to help. She thought about the doctors. We've done everything we can, they said. A state hospital would be best. Her mother disagreed, and here they were. They’d build the room together, she said, so Shawn would know what was in the walls. Together they mixed and laid the concrete, though it took so very long by themselves. Others would come help lay stones in the morning - friends, her mother said - but in the meantime Shawn had been able to add her own ingredients to the foundation. As it dried, they put down Shawn’s wards at each corner, the ones she’d drawn all around her old room so she could sleep. Her mother was old-fashioned, and her mother had come from another land entirely, so they also buried one shoe each near the door that would lead into the main room. After everything was done, though, she also insisted Shawn write out her name, like a normal child might do. That was fair. This way they both felt better. But now that she had done so, Shawn began to feel afraid. Her name looked so alone there on the smooth concrete. Exposed. “Sweetie?” Quickly, Shawn drew a circle and felt a little better. A curl around her name. Hugging, almost. Protecting. She thought a moment, then added the spikes. “What is that?” her mother asked. “It looks scary.” Shawn didn’t answer. It did look a little scary. Good. Why did they have to be here? She hated it. There was too much space. The sky was too big. There were too many stars. And behind them, endless black. “It’s so closed in,” her mother complained. “Your name looks like it’s in jail.” Shawn shook her head. Her name wasn’t in jail. It was safe. She felt her mother touch her arm, ever so lightly. She’d waited long enough that Shawn was expecting it and didn’t jump away. “How about this,” her mother said softly, pushing past her a little to crouch at the wet concrete. “Can we leave open a little door, at least? In case your name ever wants to come out?” Shawn hesitated. Would her name ever want to come out? “Maybe,” she said. “What did you say?” asked Gene. “Maybe we can keep the footer,” Karen lied, standing up. “You want to work it into the floor plan?” he replied, his tone carefully neutral. “We’d have to have another meeting with all the subcontractors.” Karen studied Gene a moment. In a half year of working for her, he had always been congenial. He even accepted the background check with equanimity. That was his job, but she suddenly realized he probably didn’t like her very much. Why should he? Pain in the ass rich lady always changing her mind in the middle of a project. “Or we could just go with what we’ve got,” she said, picking up her bag. “I was just thinking out loud.” Was that a look of irritation? “I’m really distracted today,” she held up a hand in apology. “I’ll leave it to you. Really. Before I know it, I’ll have a great home to die in.” “Ma’am,” he began, looking embarrassed. Karen sighed. She was making things worse. “A good place to spend some time with family before that happens,” she amended, turning back toward her vehicle. Tablets, politics, and all. Maybe.


[Potentially NSFW – swearing] Originally a from /r/WritingPrompts I thought it would be long enough for here too. If this is against etiquette of the subreddit, please do let me know! ***** “Memory Lane: Relive your favourite* memory like it was today.” I chuckled to myself as I popped open the bottle and picked out a multi-coloured pill, swallowing it down with a swig of nearby water. Looking at the description on the bottle I couldn’t help but wonder what my ‘favourite’ memory was. “21, not exactly a cushy upbringing, but not scraping the barrel either, and a girlfriend of 3 years. Ha! Should be fun.” I thought, as I cycled through the immediate memories that sprung to mind; the beach holiday with my family was one of the greatest times of my childhood, but it was the beach holiday with my girlfriend that really made me a man. I laid myself on the bed and closed my eyes. I’m awake, I’m stood up, and in my hands is a rifle. I look up and see I’m in a locker room facing a closed red door. To my left is a heavily armed marine, to the right is the same. They look nervous, very nervous. Why are they nervous? Why do I have a gun in my hand? What am I doing her… BANG! The red door shook. The two marines raise their guns to the door, eyes down the barrel at the door. BANG! I jump with shock in my armour, my heart rate now feeling like it is trying to punch out of my chest. A low rumbling begins around me and the marines are looking more on edge, slightly swaying with nerves as the whole room begins to shake violently. “WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?!” I shout, only to receive “RAISE YOUR GUN SOLDI…” bang. The silence following the final subdued bang was deafening, broken by the creek of the red door as it begins to wane and bulge under the pressure behind it. “Raise your fucking gun” he whispered. “What the fuck is going on?” I whisper back, raising my gun to the door. I clasp my sweaty fingers around the trigger as suddenly the door BREAKS from its hinges and unleashes a torrent of black…things…The shooting begins and on my immediate left the marine is sliced down by the monsters. I turn my eyes forward to see enormous spindly legs extended toward me as I’m thrown to the ground, my chest pierced by the sharp legs of the monsters. “FUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKK” I cry, the searing pain coursing through my body is unbearable as more legs extend into my body. I can’t move as I’m pinned down and can just make out a monster raising its leg over my eye. I wince as I try to turn away, but it’s too late. I’m awake, I’m stood up, and in my hands is a rifle. I look up and see I’m in a locker room facing a closed red door. To my left is a heavily armed marine, to the right is the same. “I’ve been here before” I mutter, the memory of what just happened is forever burned in my mind, I’d never been stabbed before but I’ll never forget it now. BANG! “We need to go, we need to get the fuck out of here now! We don’t have much time!” I plead with the other marines, but they stand fast with their gaze at the door. BANG! “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh my god I don’t want to die again”, the room begins to shake violently, my eyes rush round the room trying to find something more defensible, I begin to shake as much as the room, I can’t catch my breath. I..I just can’t I can’t. I throw my gun on the ground, but it spins around my body, attached beneath the metal plates. I claw at my armour looking for something, anything more explosive than the gun I’ve just disowned. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING SOLDIER?!” The marine on the left bellows. bang. “Raise your fucking gun” he whispered. “We are so fucked” I whisper back. The door wanes and I start shooting, the monsters explode out of the door and lurch straight toward me, pinning me down on the ground. The phantom pain I just experienced was nothing compared to the feeling of the knife like legs impaling me to the floor. The seconds of this intense pain felt like lifetimes, god I just wanted it to end. I’m awake, I’m stood up, and in my hands is a rifle. I look up and see I’m in a locker room facing a closed red door. To my left is a heavily armed marine, to the right is the same. I turn around and run, “GET BACK HERE SOLDIER!” I hear behind me as I push through the double doors of the locker room and into a winding corridor. BANG! I scramble through the maze of corridors as I hear the second BANG! Slipping on the freshly waxed floor as I go, my sweaty hands desperately searching for traction on the walls to try and pull me up. Finally at the end of the corridor is a T junction of corridors with a lift. I press the button as I hear the gunfire in the distance start, my hands shaking as I repeatedly press the button, the ground shaking as the monsters get closer and closer. Suddenly they crash round the corner of the far corridor I’ve just slipped on, there must have been hundreds of them. These nightmarish black creatures who only brought death, and I’ll be dammed if they’re going to get me again. I look right, down the T junction and see a set of double doors with people sat down behind them. I sprint toward it crashing through the doors into a Chinese restaurant, “GET THE FUCK OUT, NOW!” I yell as I shoot the ceiling, sending the occupants to the floor and to the door I just came from, through which the nightmares stampede toward me. I look forward and run toward the large pane glass window ahead of me, shooting the glass as I leap onto the frame, springboarding out of the window to a ledge on a billboard in front of me, which I grab the edge of just in time. I look down and see about 30 floors worth of air below me. My body broken, I pull myself up onto the ledge and lie on my back. The bloodcurdling screams from the restaurant become silent within seconds, as I look back to the window I just jumped from and I see a nightmare preparing to make the jump to me. “Not again, never again” I quietly speak to myself, as I roll off the ledge and fall toward the ground. I’m the one in control and I would rather die than go through this again. I close my eyes in acceptance of the end. I’m awake, I’m lying down, and in my hands is the hands of another; my eyes open to an unfamiliar ceiling with a girl who I swear I know sat over me “Wake up, you’re safe now” she says, as she kisses my forehead. She pulls away and I recognise my room, I recognise the bed I’m lying in, it’s mine; and I recognise the girl, the same girl I had just seen a second ago in my memory. “Hand me the bot..tle” the words barely making it past my lips, as one hand grabs the bottle and the other searches my body for wounds. *Favourite memory is purely subjective, Memory Lane will take the most vivid memory you have of anything your mind has experienced and expand upon it. Please note that the human brain, while researched, is not fully understood, and repression may be an important factor in your experiences.


Coffee splashed across the floor, pulling Eli from his peaceful nap. The newest hire was often a little... "much". "I might be your secretary, but I will *not* be bringing you coffee!" Rose dropped the paper cup on the floor and crossed her arms. "I didn't *ask* for coffee! Where did you even get that!?" Eli pulled his feet off his desk, "We don't even have a coffee machine here! Did you seriously go buy coffee just to spill it on my floor!?" "Maybe, but you can't prove anything." Rose shrugged, "Oh, there's a man here to see you." "Should I have a gun ready?" "He doesn't look like that kind of guy." Eli muttered for her to send him in and rubbed his eyes. Rose had only worked for him for a month. She'd stopped telling him she hated him after the first couple weeks, so that was at least better. She did take advantage of any small attempt to antagonize him, though. If he didn't hold himself responsible for her shop being overrun with unknowable and unnamable monsters, he would probably have just fired her. Which would have been fairly merciful since he had blown up the last person he had fired. Life was just a gas. The door swung open and the stranger walked in. Short beard, scraggly hair, slightly overweight, eyes turned red from crying, ring on his left hand. The man had been someone's husband for too long. Or had just experienced a few bad nights. The man dropped down into the chair in front of Eli's desk and cleared his throat. "Eli Thorne." Eli offered his hand, "What can I do for you?" "Walt Cain." The man shook Eli's hand, "I think my wife is cheating on me." "That is a possibility." Eli shrugged, "What do you want me to do about it?" "Well... you're a Private Eye... and I was thinking you could gather some pictures or something." "Oh, I'm not that kind of Private Eye." Eli shook his head and reached into his pocket, "You're looking for a sleazy cold fish. I've got a card for someone around here. Give him a call and-" "No, uh... Mr. Thorne... I just need you to hear me out." "Mr. Cain, what you're asking me to do is called 'stalking'. And I'm not the kind to do that. Drop a dime on this guy here," Eli slid the card across the table, "He's exactly the sort you're looking for. Chrome dome, smells awful, weighs as much as a bus, snores when he's awake. He's perfect for this. Tell him I sent you, and he'll owe me a drink." "Mr. Thorne, please listen." Walt pushed the card back to Eli. "No, *you* listen. This is not the kind of work I do. Now leave on your own or I will help you leave." Eli sat forward, "And I am *very* good at helping." "I know you're looking for info on a guy who owns a coffee shop. Turns out, I have information on Jerome Farmer." Jerome Farmer. That name had come up in a case Eli had worked before. A mysterious man who worked in the open. All attempts taken by Eli, his assistant, or their secretary had ended up completely worthless. Dead ends, all of them. And Eli *really* needed to know about Farmer. Farmer was the reason Eli had blown up his former partner. He needed to know *why*. Eli rolled his eyes, "Why do you think this would be a case for me of all people?" "You did some work for a friend a few months ago. He said it was something to do with a sailor who was smuggling... uh... 'evil books' into Haven City. I think this might be the same kind of thing. My wife has this novel she's been reading... and it's got all these weird drawings in it." "You're sure that's not a comic?" Eli sighed, "Look, Mr. Cain, 'evil books' are incredibly rare. The possibility of your wife having one is not very high." "She turned my dog into a monster." Eli coughed and sat up, "Alright, so maybe it's more possible than I thought. What does this have to do with her cheating on you?" "She's always working late, she always hides her phone, she is completely disinterested in me, and-" "Have you tried therapy? I hear it works." Eli sighed, "I... I can look into it. But the infidelity may be a different situation than the magic. I will be looking into *that* above all. And I would like compensation." "What's your rate?" "Normally, fifty an hour. Since this involves magic and I'm probably going to have to shoot people and cover all of that up, one hundred fifty an hour." Eli offered his hand, "Deal?" "Deal." Walt shook Eli's hand, "Tell me what you know. Anything that can help me track your wife down. Schedule, close friends, family who might help cover up anything you shouldn't know... Actually, do you have the book? Or the dog?" "I have the book here." Walt pulled out a tiny novel and dropped it on Eli's desk, "And the dog is in the trunk of my car." Eli picked up the book and started flipping through the pages, "Well, I think that's animal cruelty. Should have at least cracked a window." "You'll understand when you see the dog." "Well, this is absolutely an evil book." Eli muttered, "Romance novels. Hate 'em. This one's not even well-written. What's up with this infatuation with the word 'moist'? That's just gross." Eli rolled his eyes over and over as he quickly flipped through, but stopped as he picked up on a few strange phrases starting on page 117. He grabbed the lamp on his desk, flipped it on, and pulled it closer to the pages. He pulled a single page up and held the light behind it. The light filtered through, illuminating symbols and phrases that started to scratch at his mind. Equations and spells. "Yeah. Alright. This is magic." Eli squinted, "Now, my familiarity with this language is a little rough, but I think this part means something like 'be reborn in the shape of war'. Or that last word might be 'friendship'. Or 'screaming'. Or 'moist'. Yeah... this is a bad one. Mutating people and animals is never a good idea. Let's go take a look at the dog." \*\*\*\*\*\* Eli had his M1911 in his hand, loaded and cocked, per the instruction of Walt. Walt popped the trunk and jumped back. Large paws wrapped around the edge of the trunk, the body of the beast greasily sliding into the daylight. Its teeth grew from its lips. Its eyes were thin and dark. Its fur was matted and ugly. Its tails were long and curling. It growled at the sight of the two men. "Well, you should probably give your dog a bath or something. I know that I'd flip my wig if I smelled like that." Eli stepped forward, "Hey there, pooch. What's good?" The gurgling growl rumbled from its throat. Eli didn't take another step. "Yeah, this is a bad sign. Your dog looks healthy. Messed up and a little mutated, but healthy. Don't take him-" Eli paused and looked at the dog's underside, "Sorry. *Her*. Don't take *her* to a normal vet, but I know a nice lady who does checkups on dogs like these. Just don't ask her about the rabbits, and you'll be fine." Eli reached out and scratched behind the dog's horns, "You're actually almost cute." "How could you think *that thing* is cute!?" "I've seen some *weird* stuff, Mr. Cain." Eli pulled his notebook from his pocket, "Alright. Tell me where I might find your wife when she's 'working late', and I'll get this process started." \*\*\*\*\*\* Eli stopped in front of the yoga studio, swearing to himself the whole time. He made sure his snub was in the holster on his left hip, the M1911 was on his right hip, and the metal brace was secured safely on his right forearm. He'd dealt with evil yoga instructors before. Their flexibility was an irritation more than anything. "You ready for this, Mr. Thorne?" Eli looked at the passenger seat where his younger assistant sat. The kid was finally ready for a few cases, but Eli had wanted him to tag along. Better experience. The kid's golden hair was styled to match Eli's, and his muscular physique was hidden under his black coat. "I guess I have to be." Eli sighed, "This is just for the information on Jerome Farmer. Investigating cheaters is not going to be a common thing for us, okay?" "You got it, Mr. Thorne." The pair got out of his car and walked through the door as Eli pulled his long coat over himself. The studio was very bright. The interior walls were white and the exterior walls were glass. Plants were lined up against the walls and a fountain trickled by the door. It smelled like flowers and sweat. Calming music played over the speakers. It was actually a pretty nice place. The receptionist smiled warmly at Eli, but paused as he saw Eli's clothing, "Sir, what are you wearing?" "This is the height of fashion where I come from." "Where did you come from? Those clothes haven't been in style for like... eighty years." "Sixty, actually." Chase chimed in, "Mr. Thorne is an old-fashioned kind of Private Eye." "I happen to look very nice. And we don't tell people we're Private Investigators unless we have to." Eli stepped up to the desk, "Anyway, I need to speak with one..." Eli checked the page of his notebook, "Brad Wills. Do you know where I might find him?" "Oh, Brad doesn't do one-on-ones." "Good thing there's two of us, then." Eli motioned to Chase and himself, "Now, it's getting close to noon. Where does he get lunch?" "He brings in his own kale salad. It's to die for!" "I hate kale." Eli grumbled. Chase leaned over and whispered, "Is kale evil, Mr. Thorne?" "Not like... 'monster' evil, but certainly 'tastes bad' evil." Eli pointed at the hallway, "Is your break room down there?" "Our 'break room' is the roof garden." "I hate this damn place." Eli growled, "Is it open to the public?" "Members only." Eli tapped Chase's shoulder and motioned for him to follow. They walked a few steps away, making it just to the door. Eli kept his voice low as he leaned in to Chase, "I need you to distract him so I can get by. How many cameras did you see?" "Two cameras, same model, and one doesn't have the light on. That one is probably off. The other one is rotating back and forth slowly, so you should be able to slip past in about twenty seconds." Eli felt his heart jump, "I am so proud of you, kid. We'll make an investigator out of you yet. You distract him, and I'll-" "Actually, Mr. Thorne, I should go through. You stand out a bit in your clothes." "You think you can get him to squeal?" "For sure." Chase nodded, "I got this one." Eli nodded and walked over to the front desk, standing on the side with the working camera. He knocked on the desk, "Excuse me, sir! I have issues with your establishment! Have you seen what people wear here!? 'Suggestive' is putting it mildly! And what is this talk I hear about 'downward dog'!? What kind of *smut* are you peddling!?" "Sir, please lower your voice. You're-" "Sit up and speak clearly, young man! Where do you get off talking to your elders that way!?" "I think I'm older than-" "Why, back in my day, we didn't have things like these dens of sin and villainy! We had picture books and we were *grateful*! You make me sick with your disgusting business! For shame, sir! For *shame*!" "Sir, what kind of business do you think this is?" Chase slipped behind the receptionist, past the camera's watch, and down the hall, nodding to Eli as he hurried past. The group of people that had formed to watch Eli's outburst hadn't noticed Chase either. That was good. "I actually don't know what came over me." Eli pulled his wide-brimmed hat off and ran his hand through his hair, "Whew! That was strange. You all go about bettering your physical health, lowering your stress levels, and eating foul plants. I wish you well in your endeavors! I'm gonna go take a powder!" Eli bolted for the door as hard as he could. \*\*\*\*\*\* Eli jolted awake as Chase pulled the door open and jumped in. For a moment, Eli was pretty sure he heard screaming and crying coming from the roof, but it went silent as Chase slammed his door shut. Chase pulled out his phone and tapped on the icon that looked like a notebook. Why the kid couldn't just use normal pen and paper was beyond Eli. "Alright, so this is everything I got out of him." Chase held up the phone. Eli tilted his head back and pulled Chase's hand closer to his face, "Ah, so it looks like Walt's wife was *not* cheating on him. That's good. But... what does 'colt leafer' mean?" "Oh, my bad." Chase pulled his phone back, "I typed in the wrong thing there." "This is why you should use paper and pen. That way, you always know what you're writing down. And you don't have to deal with all this newfangled phone stuff." "It means 'cult leader'. She's involved in a cult, and the guy up there was one of her disciples. She's a disciple for someone else, and then on and on. It's like a pyramid scheme." "Ah, but with more magic." Eli started the car, "Do you have an address?" "There's an abandoned church on 1937 Gilman Avenue. I've typed it up in my phone." "No need for that." Eli pointed, "Grab the map from the glovebox for me, please." "Mr. Thorne, we can just use my phone." "Ah, but it's useful to know how to use a map." Chase groaned, but complied. Eli traced his finger across the map, searching out Gilman Avenue among the many branching streets of Haven City. He wasn't sure where 1937 would be, but he was smart enough to keep an eye out for an old church. "Hey, Mr. Thorne... I think Ms. Day might have something wrong with her." "Probably, yeah. She was a business owner, and now she's a secretary." Eli folded the map up and passed it to Chase, "But I'm gonna teach her to be an investigator and then she can do cases of her own. I think that might help her move on." "Well, I meant that she's always staring at me. And then she winks at me when I look over at her. She also keeps buying me coffee. And she always wants to know what I'm reading or what I did that day." "Uh... I think she thinks you're a bit of a dreamboat." "What's that mean?" "She thinks you're handsome." Eli fought very hard to ignore the large, bright, proud smile on Chase's face. \*\*\*\*\*\* Eli stopped the car and turned it off. He passed the keys to Chase and checked his M1911. Seven in the magazine, one in the chamber. He was ready to do something stupid. He unbuckled and holstered his gun. Chase unbuckled, but Eli grabbed his shoulder. "Stay here. I don't want you getting involved." "Just give me your other gun. I'm a lot tougher than I look. I'll have your back." "No. You don't need a gun. Stay here and get ready to drive like the dickens if things go poorly." "Mr. Thorne-" "No. I'm probably going to have to shoot people, and I don't want you in the middle of that. I want you to stay here and call Mr. Cain. Tell him the good news. His wife is *not* cheating on him. Just... try to leave out that she's probably a cult leader. And remind him to take that dog to the vet I sent him to." Eli took a breath, "And Chase?" "Yeah?" "If I'm not out in one hour, or if anyone other than me comes toward this car... floor it, okay?" Chase opened his mouth to protest, but months of knowing Eli had clearly taught him to go along with it. Chase leaned back in the passenger seat and pulled his leather-bound journal from his coat. The journal bore a winged insignia. Eli hadn't known that Chase kept a journal. Eli patted Chase's shoulder and got out of the car. He watched Chase scramble over to the driver's seat and crack open his book. Eli straightened his hat and walked up to the abandoned church. Flaking white paint turned slowly yellow in the harsh sunlight. A few cars sat in the parking lot in the back, some had been there long enough to sink into the asphalt. There was a half-destroyed mailbox hanging from its post in front of the church. The buildings all around were silent, dilapidated brick boxes. He couldn't see anyone looking out from the boarded-up windows... but that didn't mean no one was there... or that no one was watching. He ascended the steps, his hand ready to go for his gun at the first sign of trouble. Cults were a mixed bag. Some weren't terrible, just misguided. Others were antagonistic, but not supernatural. Others... Others were a problem through and through. Eli wished he was just going to deal with the first type... but he knew better. He knocked on the door with his left hand, his right hand looped around the inside of his coat. "What do you seek?" "Oh, shoot." Eli sighed, "There's a password or passphrase or something, isn't there?" "Yes. Did you forget it?" "No, no... it's on the tip of my tongue." Eli scratched his head, "Uh... Can you repeat yourself? Might jog the ol' memory." "Fine." the voice groaned, "What do you seek?" "Uh..." Eli ran through his thoughts. The romance novel had hidden notes about rebirth. Rebirth in the shape of... well... war, screaming, friendship, or something moist. Might be worth the risk. Eli cleared his throat, "I seek to be reborn in the shape of screaming." Silence. "Or friendship." The door swung open. A revolver was pressed right to Eli's forehead. "Maybe something moist." The cultist smiled, his eyes dark and his teeth curling into a smile, "Come on inside. The High Mother has waited for you." "I feel honored, I think." Eli stepped forward, "Well, let's do this." "Not so fast. I'll be taking your gun." the cultist pushed Eli's coat aside and grabbed the M1911 from his hip, "Now, any other weapons you'd like to declare?" "Any other weapons I'd like to declare? Nope." Eli shrugged, "Shall we go see the High Mother?" "Do you have any weapons you would *not* like to declare?" "Clever man." Eli nodded, "Yeah, I got a couple." "Show me." Eli's left arm swung to the side, knocking the revolver from his forehead. His right hand clenched into a fist. The revolver *boomed* right next to his head. The blade on his metal brace extended as it drove into the cultist's neck. "It's a knife that retracts into a metal vambrace. Or bracer. Or thing. It's metal. That's all that matters." Eli whipped the blade to the side, slashing out the cultist's throat, "Thought I'd let you know something as you choke on your own blood: you broke the first rule of guns. *Distance*. A minimum distance of five feet. Otherwise, I can control where it's aimed. And then... you're not listening to any of this, are you?" The cultist gurgled and laid still. "Yeah... didn't think so. Alrighty. I have to go meet the High Mother." Eli retrieved his gun from the fallen man and tilted his hat, "Good day, Mr. Cultist." Eli walked inside, keeping his gun in his right hand as he wiggled his finger in his left. He hoped that high-pitched whine would go away eventually. Having a gun fire right next to his head was great for his hearing. The foyer was a thin hallway. A small table with old, faded papers rested to his right. Stairs descended to the basement on his left. A little room with a sunken floor sat beyond an open door on his right. The sanctuary was just in front of him. "Mike!? You okay!?" Eli turned and raised his gun. A woman in a red dress hurried up from the basement, worry across her face. She froze at the sight of Eli. She started to take a step back, but Eli shook his head and motioned for her to take a seat in one of the rotting chairs. "Sir, we don't want any trouble. We're just here telling ghost stories in the basement, and-" "Your friend shoved a gun in my face. What kind of ghost stories are you telling that require an armed guard at the door? I'm looking for a woman with the last name 'Cain' who mutated a dog. Now, I get that people get upset sometimes, but doing arcane experiments on your dog is never okay. How many people are downstairs?" The woman sighed, "There are two downstairs and fifteen in the sanctuary. They're probably all getting ready to come see what that gunshot was about." "Alright. So what you're telling me is that I'll need about seventeen bullets." "He wasn't going to kill you. He was just trying to scare you off." "Let's do a thought experiment. I have a gun pointed at you. How does that make you feel?" "Scared." "Right. And what would you do if I let my guard down?" "Attack you or run." "Right again. Now, I don't want to hurt you. I'd like to not hurt anyone here. It would be great if I could have one case that doesn't end with me shooting someone. But, hey. We're here, so we gotta do what we gotta do. Why don't you leave and not look back?" The woman nodded and started for the door. "Drop your phone on the floor, please. I don't need you trying to call anyone." She groaned and dropped her phone. Eli stomped on it and motioned for her to leave. Eli watched the door close behind her and started for the sanctuary. He could deal with the two people who would come upstairs from behind him. He didn't want to deal with fifteen coming from behind him. He kicked the door to the sanctuary open and raised his gun, "Hands where I can see them!" Fifteen sets of eyes turned to face him. Their heads all lowered. They all bowed. "Well, this is the kind of greeting I can appreciate." Eli's eyes darted from person to person, "Now, who among you is playing with magic?" The room smelled like rot. But not rotting flesh. Just rotting wood. The pews were decayed and some had fallen apart. The sanctuary was tall, but not very wide. The windows were all boarded, only allowing thin threads of light to spill onto the congregation. "The Seeker has come." the woman in the center of them all raised her hand, "We have seen the signs. The Undying is consumed by fire and continues to walk. The Blackbird rises. The Immortal looks our way. The Destructive is born. The-" "I get it, okay? You're all creepy and you've got vague things to say that you just pulled out of your ass." Eli rolled his eyes, "Just... which one of you is Mrs. Cain?" The woman in the center drew back her hood, "I am she, Seeker. What has turned your path toward us here?" "Oh, you're gonna have to stop talking like that. You just sound like you're trying too hard. To answer your question, your husband is worried about you. He thinks you're cheating on him, and so I went with my assistant to interview Brad at your yoga studio." "My husband... What?" The woman shook her head, "Your *assistant* is the one who interrogated Brad!?" "Yeah, he's a real up and comer. According to my assistant, you're *not* stepping out on your husband. So, that's good. But it seems like you're leading a cult and doing dark magic... and you had an armed guard at the door, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're doing something evil. Am I right?" "We do not practice evil here! We merely act! No action is good or bad! What we do with them-" "I'm gonna stop you right there. I burned your evil romance novel." "You..." The woman's eyes got wide, "You did *what*!?" She motioned forward, "Bind the Seeker! Bring him to the altar!" "Whoa!" Eli clicked the safety off on his gun, "Hold up! I have about five pounds of C4 wired up under my coat! If you lay one hand on me, I will blow this whole damn place to shit!" "Then why did you bring a gun?" "As a bluff?" "Grab him!" Eli fired three times, dropping three people. He backpedaled for the door as hard as he could, firing two more shots into the cultists. Eli turned and threw his shoulder through the front door of the church, bursting out into the daylight. He sprinted as a gun fired. A bullet hit the ground by his feet. Seventeen cultists. Five dead. Twelve alive. Some were armed. One knew magic. "I've faced worse odds than this!" Eli shouted over his shoulder. Another gunshot echoed through the street. The bullet whizzed by his ear. Eli turned and fired the last three bullets from his gun. Three bodies dropped. Eli ejected the magazine and reloaded, cocking and firing again as he sprinted for his car. He shouted and waved his arms at Chase. Eli dove through the window and into the back seat. The car started and the tires screamed as the car lurched forward. Eli rolled up to the shattered window and emptied his gun at the cultists. Most of them ran for cover. One dropped. But Chase and Eli were speeding away before they recovered. \*\*\*\*\*\* Eli stormed into his office and threw his hat at the coat rack. He twisted around and dropped onto the couch. Seven cultists remained. Eight, if he counted the one he let go. They were unlikely to let him get away with that. Chase walked into the office and gave Rose a big smile as he dropped down into the chair in front of her desk. "Hey, Miss Day. We solved the case." "I thought you were just searching for a cheating wife." "We were, but then it turned out she wasn't cheating, but she's the leader of a small cult." "Yeah." Eli nodded, "Some sort of small cult obsessed with vague statements. The Undying. The Immortal. The bird or something. The Destructive. They called me 'The Seeker'. Buncha weird shit going on in that church." "Did they really say 'bird'?" Chase smiled a little. "Yeah. I think it was supposed to be threatening or something. Someone's scared of birds. Ornithophobia must be a *bitch*." "They're probably headed here for revenge." "What!?" Rose jumped up, "What kind of revenge!?" "Probably the kind that ends with us all in a pine box." Eli grumbled, reloading his gun, "Difference boxes, of course. I refuse to die if it means being buried with you. Anyway, there's a cot in my office. Rose, you should sleep in there. Chase, take the cot in Howard's old office. I'll sleep on the couch here." "We're just going to *wait* for murdering cultists to show up!?" Rose shook her head, "Hell *no*." "We aren't going to just wait. I've got guns, and I think Howard kept a shotgun in his office. Somewhere. Hard to tell under all that mess. Chase, do you mind finding that?" Eli looked to Rose, "If you could call Officer Brown and tell him about this whole thing, I think he could do something to get these people off our backs." Rose grumbled and walked over to her desk, dialing the police. Eli rested his arm on the armrest of the couch, keeping his gun aimed at the door. He was going to have a long night. \*\*\*\*\*\* "Mr. Thorne? You awake?" Eli groaned and his eyes rolled open, "Must have nodded off... But I'm awake now... are they here?" "No... and... uh... that's kinda what I want to talk to you about." Eli motioned for Chase to have a seat in front of him, "We will not be hunting them down." "We don't... erm... we don't have to, Mr. Thorne." Chase scratched his neck, "Officer Brown called and said that the old church was mostly burned down and they found seventeen bodies in there. Apparently, it got struck by lightning a lot." "That's convenient." "I don't think it is, actually." Chase pulled his phone from his pocket, "Officer Brown wanted me to show you this and ask if you know anything about it. He said they pulled it from an old security camera across the street." Eli rubbed his eyes and leaned in to look at the picture on Chase's phone. Sharp, black wings spread from the body of what looked like a man. The body was wreathed in blue lightning. The glowing blue eyes glared at the camera. "What the hell is this?" Eli whispered. "I think someone didn't like that the cult was looking into them." Eli's eyes got wide, "Or some*thing*... Chase... This... This is that bird they were talking about. What... what was it called?" Eli shook his head, "What... Undying... We blew up Howard because he wasn't dying when we shot him... What if Howard was the Undying?" Chase shrugged, "Probably nothing to worry about. Maybe we shouldn't look into this." "Maybe you're right." Eli whispered, "Call Mr. Cain and have him meet us here. Looks like we have to tell him that his wife wasn't cheating... and that she was killed by... this thing." Eli stared at the black-winged creature on Chase's phone. \*\*\*\*\*\* Nothing quite as mentally-draining as telling a man his wife was faithful until she was killed. However... the man had been true to his word and provided information on Jerome Farmer. It was just an address. Chase had looked into it. It was a building at Servator University on the north side of town. It looked like a history department if the picture from the map thing on Chase's computer was to be believed. "Alright, Chase. We need to go check out that building." Eli pulled his coat on, "It's the only lead we've got on Jerome Farmer, and we can't let it get any colder than it already is." "You got it, Mr. Thorne." Chase closed his computer and grabbed his jacket. The leather-bound journal fell out onto the floor. Eli bent to pick it up, holding it for a second to admire the winged insignia on the front, "You know... I didn't know until yesterday that you kept a journal." "Oh, it's, uh... it's a new hobby. I found an empty one in Mr. Malone's office after he... blew up." "Yeah... he kept some evil books in the office, but I guess some weren't all that bad." Eli offered the journal to Chase, "Well, I like the insignia here." "Thanks." Chase's blue eyes looked over at Eli, "It's a Blackbird.


EDIT: Added more of an actual ending. Changed a couple of lines in the preceding, non-ending part. “Oh shit!” thought Niklas Chalmers as he poured over the results from the latest tests. He read further down the page. “Oh shit.” He patted his pockets for his phone, pulled it out, and dialed Wilhelm. “Wilhelm, the results are in. It’s true. It’s fucking true! They’re hitting the detectors at an uneven distribution. Billions of them.” There was a moment of silence on the line before Wilhelm finally responded. “I see,” he said solemnly. “Well that’s that then.” “This explains everything” said Nik excitedly. “The discrepancies we saw in the weak-force, the lattice results over at Geneva, everything!” Nik paused and thought for a moment as the realisation of the results hit him. “So that it then? We’re living in a simulation? Nothing is real?” There was another long pause on the line before Wilhelm responded. “It certainly looks that way, my boy.” “Well, shit. “ “Well it’s not necessarily a bad thing Nik. Everything’s the same as it was. I hate to sound philosophical about the whole thing, but what is real anyway? Nothing’s changed. Just our perspectives I suppose” “I don’t know what to feel. I just feel kind of empty I guess. I have to get home. Listen I’ll call you again tomorrow morning. We should call a meeting with the investors, shit, there’s gunna be so much press. Jesus, this is it. This is fucking it!” “Nik,” Wilhelm said, urgently. “Have you considered this? Have you thought this through? What would happen, I mean? If this were to get out? Why, it would be catastrophic. Think of the world reaction. Think of how empty you felt just now when it hit you- Think of how empty the whole world is going to feel. That nothing is real? That nothing is worth anything? That life is not worth anything? We- *you* need to think about this.” “So we should just not tell anyone? Wouldn't you want to know? Don’t these people deserve to know? I mean sure, people will be shocked, but it’s the truth.” Wilhelm was silent. It’s the *truth* Wilhelm,” Nik pleaded. “Do you want blood on your hands Nik? Because that is what you will have if this gets coverage.” Wilhelm was angry. His voice crackled through the receiver. Nik didn't know what to say. “Anyway,” said Wilhelm, calmer now. “It doesn't matter. It’s out of your hands. Out of my hands even.” “What do you mean?” asked Nik, confused. The line crackled a little before Wilhelm responded. “I liked you Nik. I always did” “Well I like you too Will, but what are you saying?” “I told you,” said Wilhelm calmly. “It’s out of my hands.” “What’s out of your hands?” And in that instant everything stopped. Nik’s phone dropped to the ground. For a moment he felt as though he was floating. He no longer felt any weight to his body. He no longer felt much of anything. Too quickly, his brain was unburdened of his memories, his body unburdened of his brain and finally, the simulation within which he existed was unburdened of his entire existence. Everything that was once Niklas Chalmers was no more. Wilhelm hung up the receiver, took a deep breath and lent back in his armchair. “*It’s a shame,*” he thought. “*I really did like him.


Me has prepared a chair for me, covered in writhing wires. I raise my eyebrows, just a hair. ‘Sit,’ me says. I sit. The wires snake up my legs, and across my chest, wrapping my arms tight to my sides, sliding up over my face. They force my mouth wide open and flood down my throat. An electric shock sings from the tips of my toes to my brain and I zap in and out of consciousness then fall to the floor. The wires recede rapidly and slither behind the computer screens. ‘All done,’ me says, ‘right, I’m just gonna take control for a bit.’ He pulls on what looks like a wetsuit covered in more writhing wires. He throws his head back and opens his mouth and lets them wriggle their way inside of him. He jerks and they recede. ‘What?’ I say. ‘This is the fun part,’ me says. He waves his hand and my hand waves in unison. He jumps, I jump. His mouth doesn’t move but I hear: ‘Hello, hello, testing,’ inside of my head. My eyes bulge and he grins. ‘Time to get you cleared out, mate, this sorta shit is very draining on the through line,’ ‘The, through, line?’ I say, forcing my mouth open, every muscle resisting my control. ‘Let go,’ me says, firmly, and does a quick jig. ‘OK, so now I am, in fact, wearing your body, but look, no lag,’ he says, demonstrating, and we shadow box side by side perfectly in sync. ‘The through line, all of us,’ he says, ‘one of us is infected, all of us are infected, see?’ Me strips my body naked and replaces the clothes with a suit similar to his own. ‘So, as usual, I will be sorting out, literally everything.’ He grunts and slumps to the floor. I try to walk towards him but I’m not in control. ‘Still here, mate,’ me says in my head. ‘Sit back and enjoy.’ ‘Sgnjgtkot,’ I thinksay, I haven’t got the hang of internal diamonologue. ‘Calm down, now I’m in here I can see. Minor leak in the dark-half, mate, you are fucking confused, hey. Sad, sad, sad, sad, sad. Your core is pissing everywhere, no wonder they can smell ya,’ me says. ‘Gnrjrrr,’ I reply. ‘What is it this time? Ugh. Dull, dull, dull, parallesites, zero imagination,’ me says. ‘Right, let’s go.’ I watch from behind my eyes as I run across the heath with unnatural speed and agility. ‘Where?’ I manage to utter, silently. ‘We’re going to visit your grey mates’ me says. We lope across the heath and into the depths of the forest. The stars above are endless, the air is fresh, the moon is high. The trees rush by in a blur. We skid to a halt in a clearing. ‘This’ll do,’ me says and presses a point on the elbow of the suit I’m wearing. Liquid metal washes over its surface, covering it completely, rippling and extending sending out small silver tendrils to taste the air. ‘There you are,’ the greys say, melting out of the trees at the far side of the clearing. ‘Finally,’ me says, with my mouth. He stays perfectly still and I watch as the couple slowly fade across the field, shimmering above the grass, and coming to rest in front of me. ‘You’re ready, dear?’ the grey lady says. ‘Go ahead,’ me says. ‘Son, this is for the best, one takes us to the next, and through and through,’ the grey man says. He melts back and merges with his female companion, until they are perfectly overlaid, fazing in and out of focus, shifting and blurring from one face to the other. They place two palms against my chest, as one, and I feel the cold begin to seep from their fingers. ‘Gotcha,’ me says and taps my elbow. The liquid metal sheen of the suit explodes and a great net of writhing silver tendrils engulf the blurred grey figure before me. Slithers of metal twist and tweeze the pair apart, tearing them in opposite directions. ‘Oh dear,’ the grey lady says, coming back into focus just as strands of metal begin to worm their way into her ears and eyes. ‘Ah,’ the grey man says, as he reappears, then belches up a torrent of silver and collapses. Me presses the point on my elbow again and the metal cracks and goes rigid, then glows deep orange, then red, then white.


What I want is to lie down in the woods until I die of thirst or some other means. Everything is work, all of this is work, and I would rather not do any of it. You see I’m well beyond asking what the point is; in case you haven’t figured it out, there is no point. God is not real expect in your mind as an implicitly contradictory, discrete conception of everything as one. The individual is damned and you know it. All collections of people, from state to family, fail to redeem the individual.   You might then be asking the question, why am I penning these words instead of adding my biomass to the woods? A perfectly acceptable question, for which I have a perfectly unacceptable response. I can’t. And believe you me, I’ve tried. I’ve embraced the forest floor, caressed the dead leaves and sticks and rocks and dirt, then resigned the mind and invited Death. Curious, how vehemently, how *religiously*, a slave can rebel, only to be subjected once again, over and over, by the hand of the master.   Whose heart heats the hovel? Stone whose pen writes a novel.


I was gullible enough to believe you cared. I thought you valued my friendship. Appreciated our long talks. Enjoyed spending time with me. But you only wanted one thing from me. You wanted an ego boost. I should have realized sooner. Our conversations were always flirtatious. We would occasionally talk about something ‘real’ but we would bookend our comments with more flirting. You only invited me over when you thought you would get something from me. You only initiated conversations when you were in a frisky mood. You never thought of me as a friend. I was never the one you would run to with good news or the one you would ask for advice. I played one role. I guess everything makes sense now. Why you were never there for me when I needed you. Why you dropped off the face of the planet when things got too serious. Why I could never rely on you for anything. I thought we were friends — but it turns out you were just someone who flirted with me to pass the time. It sucks because I thought our connection went deeper than the physical. I thought we got along well. I made you laugh. I opened up to you. I was my authentic self with you and you seemed to admire that. I thought of you as more than a potential hookup. I thought of you as a genuine friend. I would have liked to hang out with you even if flirting was off the table. I would have liked to get to know you better. I would have liked to have a permanent place in your world. It’s difficult to admit we were on completely different pages the entire time. I thought of you in one way and you thought of me in another way. Looking back, you clearly wanted nothing to do with me as a person. You were never interested in developing a friendship and I have to accept that fact. You never cared about me — but I cared about you. I texted you first. I remembered the little things you told me. I did cute favors for you. I treated you with the same amount of respect I give to the rest of my friends. But that is okay. I am not going to chase after your friendship. I am not going to drown you with messages, hoping you give me more than a one-word answer this time. I am not going to track you down and force you to pay attention to me. If you don’t want a place in my world, you can leave. I might cry about you but I’m not going to stop you. In the end, I am not upset that we never had the chance to become an official couple. I am not upset we developed an almost relationship but never crossed the barrier to boyfriend and girlfriend. I am upset that we aren’t friends anymore. And that, apparently, we were never even friends in the first place.


I know I was only 80 in Fae years, which was the physical equivalent of an 8 year old in the human world...yet mentally and emotionally I was just as mature as any human adult. I knew the true weight of the event unfolding before me...I was fully aware of the true impact of the closing of the dimensional portal between the Human and Fae worlds...between the mortal plane and my homeland. I was sad to see it happen, yet I also wasn't surprised. The Fae had been in perfect harmony with their environment and with one another for millenia. A few hundred years ago, the Royal Council of Fae had decided to subtly, behind the scenes help the human's improve their society by aiding them in balancing their relationship with Mother Nature...with Gaia, and with one another.

After centuries of persistent and tireless efforts the Fae had finally had to give up the act when the humans had started to turn their attentions towards fighting the Fae...towards fighting us rather than working with us like they had before. I hated the fact that we had to stop our communications...to stop our relationship with them in such a dramatic way. But...but we had to break the connection if we were going to survive. Us Fae, we were a peaceful race and had been so for such a long time that we had practically forgotten how to have a war...a war that the humans continously were pushing on us. It was only when they had realised that specially treated iron into our hearts was the only was to kill us...that was when we knew we had to cut ourselves off from them, at least in this stage of humanity's evolution. We couldn't continue to freely give of ourselves with only hostility and now fatalaties in return...it was time to move on.

Even though I was only a child in Fae terms, I was still fully aware of the historic importance of this event. I could hope that I would see the gateway between the two realms open up again in my several thousand year lifespan...but I wouldn't hold my breath, based upon what my Father had reported back from the front lines...humanity was so far off peace that not even my children would probably see the reopening of the gateway between our two dimensions.

The closing of the dimensional gateway didn't directly affect me...the lands of the Fae were significantly more advanced than the humans in basically every single way so it wasn't like our quality of life would be modified.The only way this affected me was seeing how it influenced those around me...and how it would impact my generation, we would be the ones responsible for living with this decision afterall.

Originally, us Fae had been able to somewhat blend into the mortal realm amongst the humans. We were a pecuilar supernatural race with our unique blend of both human and insect features which could make intergrating ourselves into different societies difficult. Fortunately, we were able to somewhat easily hide our insect features such as the retracetable wings and the enhanced senses...specifically our incredulous eyesight. I had only been to the human realm once...and it was the most overwhelming experience of my life. I know that the humans had very limited senses...they could only hear within a certain frequeny and see only a fraction of the visible light spectrum, but I hadn't realised just how oblivious they were to 90% of the world around them. The cocktail of intense emotions surrounding their world...hate,sadness,guilt and pain...it was enough to drive even the most grounded of Fae mad. I knew that Gaia, the Earth's spirit was upset at the humans and the way they treated her...but I hadn't realised just how bad it really was. My parents had spent years sheltering me from the harsh cold reality of the mortal plane, it was only on a eye opening school trip to the human's world...it was only then that I realised just how naive I was.

In the Fae realm, everything was in alignment...we were perfectly balanced with one another and our planet's energy...with our planet's spirit. It was because of this balance, this was why us Fae could live happily in this realm despite our insect like senses. We could see and hear...touch, smell and taste in a spectrum hundreds of times larger than a mortals limited sensory range. To truly articulate the differences between our two societies, I am going to compare the different elements I sensed on simply sitting in a park in both the Fae and the Mortal realm. Whilst I admit I am biased towards the Fae realm having grown up here and being Fae myself, I still can accurately compare the two thanks to the scientific training that all Fae are taught in school.

Let me set the scene for you accurately...you are sitting on a comfortable park seat simply watching the early morning pass before you. Tuning into your senses you begin to notice several things...factors that whilst seeming similar on the surface are significantly different underneath. I will save you from going into the excessive details...but if you are Fae, or have incredibly acute senses...you know what I am talking about. On a visible light level the two may be identical, but if you engage on other frequencies such as ultraviolet and infared...let's just say that the mortal world was overwhelming...it practically was screaming constantly.

The air was constantly filled with the buzzing of electronic waves and the mindless chattering of the various methods of digital mediums the humans used as communication. Visibly, the UV light from the sun was physically painful it was so bright...yet this wasn't all. The negative energy surrounding the planet thanks to Gaia's rock relationship with her residents created a nauseous like vibe wherever you went...no wonder the humans were riddled with physical,emotional and mental illnesses...their environment was toxic as a result of their own actions. Physically, the world were very similar...the touch sensation wasn't the strongest of the senses. Smell wise...it was like comparing apples to oranges. The Fae world smelt entirely natural...like dew and flowers...like running water and snowfall. In the human world...I could tell that these scents were evident, yet they were heavily buried under the stink of burning fossils and garbage infused with untreated sewage and toxic foods...no wonder they were all so sick all the time.

I know I am rambling now, but just know...know that the significant differences on a sensory scale between the two worlds. Until these are lessened, I know that until these are lessened the portal will remain closed. Until the humans repair their relationship with Gaia and bring peace to their realm through understanding and spirituality...Fae would always be seperate from humanity., and that was that.