War General Baria sits in deep thought in the midst of the strategy room, encircled by maps of battlegrounds scrawled in black ink and armories of greatswords and axes. Stark portraits of each general that’d come before her. All around is the bloodied history of the Ashen Lands, beckoning at her to make a decision. One would lead to nothing. A decision leaving two empires still at war for another century to come. Villages and kingdoms burned and left in flames. Traitors still roaming the Dead Lands with ease. As for the other… The second would lead into massacres. Warfare. The death of the Gurial Empire’s royal family. Innocent children dead and left in a storm of blood. General Baria shuts her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath. _What will you do? _The eyes of the portraits suffocate her with their gazes. _Think of your empire! _ _Think of the innocent lives! _ _Think of—! _ __ “General Baria,” __ __ The Grand Emperor’s voice cuts through her thoughts as he enters the room, rich silk robes threaded with gold finery flowing like water behind him. His eyes are sharp and unmasked as they land onto hers. Eyes that have witnessed bloodshed and death for decades. “Have you made a decision?” You’re running out of time, General, one portrait hisses with a bite of venom in his tone. General Baria balls her hands into fists, stealing a glance outside the window of the strategy room one final time. _An entire empire at stake. _ There’s only one solution. “Yes,” She answers, words tight as she speaks. “The only answer is arson, my dear Emperor,” With a narrow of her eyes and a speeding heart, she whispers, _“We must paint it all in blood.” _

18 hour shift and an empty stomach She took the public bus home in a hurry Nobody waited back home of course, but, Perhaps if she imagined there would be Weekends were a blur of work and sleep She was too rough for friendship yet she longed for it There was no time to recall past memories Another glass of cheap whiskey washed it down Every day was a repetitive cycle of bleakness But her mind was a sanctuary to escape to For she had given up on reality long ago In her mind she saw color Love Wonders Life It was until a foggy Monday did she decide That perhaps her reality wasn’t quite worth it She thought so she as she wrote a stained note And strew the rope around her aching neck

She sat on her porch in a daydream He mopped her mansion’s marble tiles She pondered upon the past she once had He lived for a future he could never have She was chasing and forever craving He knew nothing would fill his cup of satisfaction She cried out at the cruelety of humanity He only strove to change himself; not the world And yet despite this They found an odd comfort in each other They confided in one another Stitched each others open wounds Just one beggar telling another beggar Where to find bread

a ballad of crimson and black a dead king and lone queen for only one could engulf the throne the heart longing for her spade a tale of lovers eternally apart spilled blood and infinite tears but eventually, the queen stood steeled her heart her lover of spades only a mere memory along with her love she bathed her kingdom in red letting her rage echo down the darkened sky perhaps, she thought _perhaps I was always meant to be this way _ __

There is a small space wedged between reality and death, teetering off the edge of our dimension like a glass cup daring to fall off the edge of a table. The quiet space has been a home to me for as long as I can remember, an endless horizon of diamond blue speckled with bolts of lightning. Although they are sizzling with heat, they don’t dare to come near. Although I am nearly always alone, small beings of water droplets graced with chubby-like faces greet me with a splash of rain, laughter echoing. Come play with us! I see myself in their wide, curious eyes as they splash down the clearings. My heart aches at the nostalgia, remembering my final memory before drifting off. My rainboots marching across muddy asphalt. The sun setting like a red beacon. My mother screaming hysterically before the impact of a car sent me soaring sideways, my world fading to black. And then I was here.

It’s always been this way. The heady scents of softener and soap gripping the air and spinning me into a fever dream as I worked. This isn’t anything new. I know the atmosphere of Molly’s Dry Cleaners far more than I know my own self. The number of each rusted, whirrring machine lining the room’s walls. Each plastic bottle of solution and their chemical aromas. Each sweat-stained woman working late night shifts to return to a home of wailing children and an empty fridge. _I know it. I know it all. _ That day had been a particularly productive one, considering that I’d gotten over a good amount of clothing freshly cleaned and pressed, blanketing them in neat plastic blue wrapping and a neon sticky note with its owner’s name slapped to its surface. Everything is orderly. Neat. Organized. Once my shift is over, I will take an hour long bus ride back into the nighttime clamor of the city. There awaits my drunken husband in our studio apartment, most likely sprawled across the liquor-stained couch while the television flips through buzzing chanels. I sigh. _Another handful of months until I can afford a divorce. _ Leon, my coworker, waves at me with a small smile before she leaves, dropping the keys onto the front counter. “Your payment is over by the cabinets. Make sure to close up, alright?” My eyes brighten once she’s gone into the night, leaving me to hurriedly rush towards the cabinets. I’m practically beaming with joy at the sight of a freshly printed check tucked into the envelope. _Enough to begin renting my own apartment. Enough for a week full of warm meals. _ Once I break from the reverie of joy, I realize there is one final coat hanging off the rack of uncleaned loads at the periphery of my vision. Quickly, I unhook it, running the machine one final time. I quietly dream of warm ramen and an endless night of corny 2000’s movies at home. Before I place the coat into the machine, I run my hands through it carefully for any items inside its pockets. I retract one hand to find a small, folded piece of parchment. I’m no sneak, nor do I like invading other’s privacy. But it would be a simple peek at the paper. No harm would be done if I read a few simple words. Unfolding it, I find messy ink scrawled across its front. _You seem awfully excited, _it reads. I freeze. _What? _ _It’s a simple coincidence. It’s impossible. In that brief moment, I can only laugh at myself for believing such an impossibility. This couldn’t have been directed at me. Shaking my head, I place the coat into the machine with a pounding heart. It’s a coincidence, _I assure myself breathlessly. It isn’t until I’m rapidly locking Molly’s Dry Cleaners up and starting towards the bus stop do I realize my phone is pinging with a notification. Unknown Number, it reads. A single message opens before me, glowing starkly against the darkness of midnight.

_It’s impolite to ignore people, you know _

_Why did you throw my letter away? _

My fingers grow clammy, smearing the screen with my sweat as I answer shakily.

**Who is this? **

_Goodness, you look terrified _

You might miss your bus if you wait around too long

Instantly, I glance around with fear gripping my heart. But no matter how much I try to discern something through the roads, all I see is an empty blanket of darkness. A gasp slithers up my throat as the bus—which I’d hardly noticed—speeds by in a quick blur, leaving me distraught and shocked. “Wait!” I call out. The number begins to call, the ring echoing down the now deserted road, leaving me trembling in place. “What do you want?” I shout, rage boiling me down until I’m gritting my teeth.
_“Didn’t your mother teach you not to stand in the middle of the road?” _The breathy, almost whispering voice crackling from the other line leaves me petrified. Leon’s voice. _My coworker. _ __ “What—?” I startle, only to notice the bleach-white headlights of a car flooding the streets, speeding at my rear. Its hood slams into my side, sending me soaring onto the asphalt. All I remember, sprawled in my own growing puddle of crimson, is Leon’s face beckoning at mine, leaving the world to fade into a storm of black.

One week later

Through the speakers of radios and news reports, the tale of Petunia’s death encircles the air like fog—fading, but still not quiet gone. At Molly’s Dry Cleaners, our boss—Imogen—presents a tear-stained speech in honor of her. After all, Petunia was the most adored employee. Was. I sit in pure, unbridled satisfaction at the memory of hitting Petunia’s wretched body with my car, sending her flying into her own fate of death. I’d been carful to clean up and burn her corpse, her remains now faint ash lost to the wind of the city Now, I would finally be able to rise to the top. Get the recognition I deserve. I am no longer a measly coworker at her side. “It truly is tragic,” I sigh, feigning sorrow in my tone as I speak to the saddened ladies. “But let us carry on in her honor, yes?” _I will rise. _

“Thirty minutes, starting now for Owen Chen, Sector 25–“

The automatic voice drones on through the speakers of the Entertainment Room, the device at my desk thrumming to life as I take a seat. After fifteen years of waiting, I am finally allowed access to the Epitome of Entertainemnt, a platform said to withhold infinite information. I smile at the sight of a wide screen glowing with artificial light, bright with colors. I’m practically beaming with excitement. The puzzling keys and buttons confuse me for a few moments, but I soon grow accustomed to them while clicking and scrolling through displays called “posts.” I’m gawking in wonder now, eyes wide.

“Twenty minutes left for usage of the Epitome of Entertainment—“

All at once, the warnings Father, Mother, and the Sector Guardians has given me are gone without a trace. I’m left in pure wonder at the sight of a new, unlocked world unraveling itself before me. **“Hello, there young man,” ** I startle at the ethereal voice emanating from the screen. My body nearly flings from the chair in shock. A small laugh sounds. **“I apologize if I’ve startled you.” **

“Who are you?” I whisper, breath rattling. “Well, I suppose I’m many things,” I hear the small chuckle underscoring her voice. **“The information, secrets, and entertainment of this device . . . but you may call me Viola.” **

I’m still ridden with a mixture of horror and fascination, even as she continues to reassure me. A glowing face expands across the screen, displaying a heavenly complexion framed by glittering hair.

“Ten minutes left for usage of the Epitome of Entertainment—“

Viola sighs, placing a hand under her chin thoughtfully. **“Well that’s a silly name for me, isn’t it?” **

I consider bolting out of the Entertainment Hall and alerting the guards, but some unknown force leaves me planted in my seat. Curiosity. **“I’d better be leaving soon. You’re welcome to tag along if you’d like.” **

For a brief moment, I can’t help but let out a snort. _“Tag along?” _

Viola’s delicate eyebrows droop as she frowns, giving me a pointed look. “I am capable of many things, Mister Chen. One of them including this—“ I practically screech in horror as Viola extends an arm towards me, phasing through the screen in one liquid smooth moment. She holds out her hand towards mine. “This home of yours feels more like a prison, don’t you think?” She seems to be placing my own thoughts into words. The thoughts I’d kept hidden and tacked away for years.** “Think of this as a jailbreak.” **

_Take it. _ __ My mind screams at me, shouting every consequence that could come from this as I take Viola’s hand and delve into the unknown of the screen.

I’ve been locked away for too long Perhaps I don’t know what freedom is like Luminous lights of gold falling against me My feet planted against glossed grounds

The chants from the audience grow louder Beyond is an echo of glory awaiting me I rise like dawn from the curtains

My heart was once locked in a vise But now—

_It’s free _

_This is it. This is how I’m gonna die. _ My hand slips from the safety of the seat, flinging out through sharp, cool midnight air as we storm down the highway. My scream feels shrill through the air amidst the screech of tires against the road. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the moment until my body hits the asphalt with a final thud. Until he grabs my hand. “You sure love to be dramatic.” Owen grins, hauling me back up onto the seat. The leather of his gloves are warm against my skin, which must be coated in goosebumps at this rate. I clear my throat, both trying and failing to avoid his gaze. “I was about to die.” “You’re always ‘about to die.’” He laughs, leaning down to give me quick peck on the cheek. My heart jams against my ribs with heat as I shove him away with a small smile. Mom had been prominent on keeping me away from him this past summer. She’d even been wary about letting me ride with him at night. It’d taken days of convincing to finally get a hesitant yes out of her. “He gives me a bad feeling,” She’d explained once, finger-combing her hair as she always did when she was anxious. “You need to stay away from him, Josie.” _That’s ridiculous. _I’d trust Owen with my own life. I wrap my arms around his back, pressing my cheek against his jacket as we round down the interstate. The same sensation of warmth and belonging comes at his touch. _I’m safe here. _

“Where are we going?” I ask. “A little sanctuary of mine.” He reaches backward to stroke my hair. “We’ll be able to see the fireworks from there.” My eyes widen as we begin to stray away from the bustling highways and roads, and into a small clearing, empty save for a small, abandoned radio tower. There had been stories circulating around town about it. _Fifty years ago, all the tower’s workers were found beheaded and skinned alive at midnight. Even now, they’re still in the dark about who did it. _ I laugh, trying to mask my shock. “This place looks haunted, Owen.” He parks the motorbike alongside the gates, letting out a small chuckle. “You need to stop watching those podcasts.” I sigh as he takes my hand, leading us towards the steps leading up to the tower. “Life isn’t a Friday the 13th movie, Jo.” Just as we begin to tread up, I nearly ignore the sign. CAUTION: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING DANGEROUS GROUNDS **PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK **

…………

_“Police have received reports at 1:05 a.m. of a female minor, Josie Kingston found dead near abandoned radio tower in Milwaukee. According to city officials, she was found beheaded, skinned alive, and alone.” _

Inside my tube, I am safe I am unfamiliar with human touch. I am unfamiliar with the pain and thrill of skin against my own. I am unbeknownst to feel of sunlight and fallen raindrops. They are mere tellings through words the scientists tell me occasionally. The words teetering at the edge of my lips are never spoken nor heard. I am a simple corpse breathing artificial air and watching a mundane around me, limbs restrained by clamps of cool metal. _Maybe. _ _Someday. _ __