"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall. How did I become the best looking girl of them all?" Asked Rose twirling in front of her grandmother's mirror. It was an old thing with golden edges that sprouted into frozen action. Rose found a certain beauty to it. Gold halted in place so that its luster would never dim. Even after being cooped up inside her grandfather's attic for twenty years, it still looked the same as the day her grandmother bought it.

"Rose," yelled her mother from downstairs. "You'll be late for school."

"Oh, bother. I've never liked going to that old place. Only jealous and ugly crowd those halls." Rose clicked open her phone. Her background was that of her with the mirror. Naked but covering herself with the reflection of her finger. She had one text message from Alice. “When are you getting here, queen? The boys are thinking of skipping school.”

“What boys,” Rose texted back.

“Erin and Cody, lol.”

Now there was an idea. Rose had gotten tired of showing off her beauty to the ungrateful. At first, it was lovely. Her classmates would fawn over her. They would tell her how dazzling she was. She knew this, of course. No one was as dazzling as she was. Rose had model contracts lined up to pay her large sums of money just to have her face on the cover of their magazines. They wanted her face spread all over Instagram. Now though, she was bored of her classmates, even though they grew tired of her. Sounds fun. Meet me at the front gates, and we'll go.

With a skip and a jiggle, she rushed down the stairs. "Beautiful pumpkin," said her father, a mediocre man that blended with the background. How did such a bore help give birth to me, Rose thought. "A kiss?"

Rose smiled and swayed over to him, making sure he saw her. Her father's eyes darted from top to bottom. Then he closed them. He was fantasizing about how soft his daughter was. Rose tapped her finger on his nose. "Maybe later tonight." She swayed over to her mother, teasing her father on the way back. Rose gave her mother a gentle kiss on her cheek, keeping eye contact with her father. "Your lunch money," her mother said, giving her a twenty-dollar bill. "I don't want you eating that cafeteria junk. Order something from Skip The Dishes."

"Will do, mama." Rose looked over to her mother. She wondered how beautiful she must have been once, how she had every man wrapped around her finger. It was a mystery to her how someone so powerful found herself with an incestive poor excuse of a husband. Only pity filled Rose's heart for such a queen. That won't happen to me. I'm going to find a rich man who loves me for me, and I will stay young for him forever.

"Don't look at me like that, Rose, and don't tease your father," her mother said. Together they glanced back to the poor excuse of a man who found his clothes a little tight for some reason. Even at her ripe age of thirty-eight, her mother still got it.

1 Bayside Nulles was a city district in the megacity called Halbridge. Nulles sat on the coast just between San Francisco and McKinleyville. A beautiful district with levels of fame just behind LA. Rose loved her city. She didn't want to move to the heart of Halbridge. She was fine being the Queen of Nulles.

She strolled up to Bayside Nulless Composite High. Every stranger glanced a peek at her gorgeous body. She could feel theirs stares as they undressed her in their minds. It tingled. Rose basked in their lust.

Alice, Cody, and Erin sat waiting around underneath the founder's statue just before the school building. Class starts in five minutes, but for Rose, it begins when she enters the room.

"There she is," said Alice rushing up to her. Rose's right-hand lady. They both met during their first year of high school. Alice stuck out like a sore thumb, she wore glasses back then, and her hair was such a mess that Rose thought that it might have been a bird's nest.

Alice wasn't the prettiest even in her new style of mini skirts and crop tops. She was far below what Rose thought was average on a genetic level. No amount of makeup can fix those problems. But every queen needs a servant, and Alice fit the bill. She wanted to be like Rose, live like Rose, and dominate like Rose. "Ready to go?"

"Always, my dear Alice. Boys," said Rose showing off her pearly whites.

"Hey," said Cody. He was a ginger with a smooth demeanor. A hotshot on the basketball team and a genius when it came to academics. Erin always hung around Cody or more like Cody hung around Erin. Either way, they held a bond that seemed to be something more than friends. There was a rumor that they were part of some greek cult.

Rose found herself staring at Cody whenever she could. He didn't seem interested or captivated by her beauty. A king candidate, but he was not worth her time. He didn't have the riches that a king should have. He was a good distraction.

"Bussin as usual, mama," chimed in Erin. The bad boy of Bayside High, all boys wanted to be him. Rose didn't like Erin, she found him to be quite dangerous. She knew that if she were ever alone with him, her beauty would die. She would be tainted and ruined. The only good thing about Erin was the connections he had. It was through him that she got her first modeling contract. She felt that she had to hang out with him, like an employee being asked out for a drink by their boss. "How's the biz?" He asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's good," she said, removing his arm. "Shall we get going?"

"Absolutely," said Alice, just a pitch too high.

"Aight, all y'all hop in the cruise machine," said Erin leading them to his red Hatchback Mazda with black flames on the doors. Alice took the front seat with Cody and Rose in the back. The car started up with a purr before rolling out of the school parking lot. The four of them were on their way to a gorgeous day of playing hooky.

"How was last night," Rose said, directing her question to Cody.

"It was great," said Alice. "Erin and I got a little too drunk, and Cody had to drive us home."

"That must have been annoying." Rose kept her gaze.

"It wasn't that bad. We missed you," Cody said, smiling.

"Work went a bit over time. Those photographers can be quite greedy."

"Taking shots of a high-class girl like you. I would want it to never end," laughed Erin. Alice joined in with a tee-hee and a ha-ha.

"I agree," said Cody staring out the window. Rose found herself falling more and more for the ginger. His silent and cool demeanor were pulling at her heartstrings. So what if he didn't have the money, the fancy house, and an expensive job. He had something else. He didn't give a shit about what other people thought about him. He was dancing in his own lane.

Rose sniffed in his essence, letting it fuel her down to her toes. She wanted him to grovel as all the other boys did. Deep down inside her, she wanted to break this man. Take everything that he is and stomp it. She wondered what kind of face he would make when he begged.

Cody turned to face her, his electric blue eyes glistening as they peered into pretty, pretty Rose. "Maybe next time you should come with me. I swear it would be time you'd never forget."

"Maybe I will." Rose found her cheeks burning red. No one had approached her like that before. Sure there were assholes here and there, but nothing as captivating as this. It just pushed that desire to dominate even more.

"That's an interesting smile," Cody said. She quickly covered her mouth. Rose was grinning ear to ear.

2 The group rolled up to the Passing Bay Bridge. It led to the island just off the coast, which held a building known as Nulles Correctional. There wasn't anyone inside that Rose cared for, but she found the red brick building alluring. Erin took the car off to the side of the road and down under the bridge.

"Back at this old place," complained Rose crossing her arms.

"Yeah, but I did some renovations and spiced the old thing up," said Erin hopping out of the car. "I swear the place looks lit now."

Under the bridge was an old shack put together by some homeless folk before the 'Every man gets a home' bill was passed in the city. It was a bill that gave homes to every homeless person in Halbridge. An impossible task but it got passed.

Erin had taken the shack and remodeled the whole thing. It looked like a beachside house with new windows, fancy doors, a modern wooden design, and a wall-size sliding door. It was a small haven under the bridge.

"I got new windows and doors," Erin said, pointing them out as he approached the oak entrance. "And a camera installed for 24/7 coverage." He opened the door and typed in a passcode to a keypad just inside. "And a security system."

Alice rushed past the group bumping into Rose. She didn't look back and continue towards the massive couch in the middle of the living room. Cody had grabbed hold of Rose making sure she didn't fall. His was stronger then he looked.

Inside there were frames of movie posters and bands. A glass coffee table sat in front of the couch, along with a large sixty-inch OLED tv that hung on the wall. There were hanging lights over the kitchen and google homes in almost every corner. Erin pulled out his phone and connected it. Drake started to play. Alice took a large chunk of the massive couch and started singing along. "Pretty cool right," Erin said. "I know a great designer who helped me fix up the place."

"It's nice," Rose said, making her way across the lavish flooring and pop culture furniture to a ladder. It had been there before the renovations and was there now. She looked up to the loft. It was the same with just a few adjustments. The ladder was new, and a window was built into the roof with a latch that, once flipped, would then be pushed forward, letting in the salty breeze.

Rose settled down in the pile of cushions, looking out at the ocean. The bridge was just off to the left. It wasn't noisy because hardly anyone ever drove across to the Correctional. So the loft had a perfect view of the building.

"I noticed that you like looking at the prison," said Erin popping up from the ladder. "I don't know why but I thought, hey, the queenie likes it, I'll give it to her."

"It's cool," Rose said, stretched out her hand, and Erin plopped a couple of golden pills into it. He just smiled.

"What do you want to do with the place," asked Cody. He glanced up from the golden pills in his hand as he rolled them around.

Smiling, Erin swallowed down one tablet with a glass of water. With a shrug from his shoulder, he said, "I want to expand it into a club - "

"Hey, E," interrupted Alice. "This ain't the cheap shit, is it?"

"Store-bought. I don't deal with the mixed stuff no more. Too many crazy incidents. If it's weird, blame Cody, he bought them."

Alice inspected the pills making sure it wasn't anything funny. She had to be careful since her last trip. A dreadful experience. She found herself talking to a wall about someone after her life. It took Erin and a couple of friends to convince her to sit down till the high was gone.

"Just take one," Erin reassured her. "If you don't like it, you don't have to take another." She nodded. Rose eyed Erin from on top of her loft. He was a high school dropout just a couple of years older than them, but it felt like he knew how the world worked. He never apologized for being him, and sometimes that made him unlikable. He dressed like a gangster, stalked the streets like a gangster, but he didn't talk like one. He didn't act like one. He could blend in with almost any crowd. He knew the right people to talk to, how to speak to them, and how to befriend them. The cherry on top was that Erin cared for the people he chose as friends. Rose found him irritating. Like he was putting on an act. Soon she found her mind relaxing as everything melted into one. “That came faster than I thought.” Then Rose started to drift.

4 Rose awoke to the feeling of discomfort as if something was being lodged into her stomach. A pounding feeling accompanied the pain. Her eyes opened, and she found herself bent over out the loft window. It took her a second to realize what was happening. From behind, Cody was shirtless and having his way with her.

"S-stop," she pleaded, her voice hoarse and faint.

"Finally awake, my queen," he said, increasing his tempo. "Don't mind me, just marking what's mine."

"Stop," Rose said louder. "Stop!" She pushed back against him but was met with his hands around her throat, pulling her into an arch. Cody picked up the pace again while Rose struggled to breathe as the air in her body left her at every pound. She scratched at his hands till blood was drawn but Cody …

Didn't.

Budge.

His grip just tightened.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Alice laughing at her, cackling as Rose tumbled through this hell. An imp laughing at the sinner as they burn in heavenly fire forever. "That's what you get, you stuck up bitch," said Alice grabbing her sides. "You had this coming!"

Tears started to swell as Cody marked her inside. Rose could feel her mind going dark. She had one last look at the Correctional across the sea. The seagulls were taunting her that they were free.

A crack from a bat caught Cody's attention, saving Rose from fainting. Erin was awake, a bit groggy, but he understood what was going on. Alice laid on the floor, bleeding out from her head. Her hands were holding her wound.

"Out," Erin roared. Betrayal had sent him into a deep rage but clung to his sanity. Letting it burn underneath his skin. He could feel his eyes boiling from it.

"Damn it, Alice! You said the pills would have them knocked out till tomorrow," said Cody, spanking Rose before hopping down the loft. "Alright, let's talk about this."

"Out," Erin growled as he pointed the bat at his former friend. "You ain't the Cody I know." Alice lounged up at Erin in one final hurrah but was tossed aside. She crashed into the coffee table, shattering the glass into her face. Her scream sounded one of murder.

"Fine, fine, but she was begging for it," said Cody as he walked towards the door. "She should feel honored letting me have my - " A bullet slammed into one of the movie posters, inches from Cody's face. He glanced back at Erin. A .40 was aimed at his head. It was only due to the sheer grogginess from the drug that he had missed. "I … I seem to have offended you. I can take a hint. She's all yours, friend."

"You sick bastard. She's no ones. She's not some object we can claim," said Erin. "And before you leave, take this trash out with you."

Cody nodded and approached slowly. He lifted Alice from the wreckage glass hanging from her face. Then, like a ghost, he strolled towards the door with a type of grace that seemed ancient, "I'll be back for her, Erin. She belongs to me. All belongs to me." Cody tapped his chest, indicating at the lightning bolt tattoo on his left pec. Erin flinched.

"Not her … please." Cody's eyes flash a blue, and then he left.

Erin collapsed to his knees. Everything seeped out of him. He glanced up to the loft. There wasn't time for him to feel pity for himself. He crawled over to the ladder, which seemed to be forever, and forced himself up the long journey to the loft.

At the top, Rose stared out the window, tears already drying on her face. Her eyes locked on the Correctional. The queen had been tainted, and she will never be the same. The cushions were smeared with vile liquid from a rushed cleaning. Even though the monster was gone, his presence was still there. "I'm not a good person, am I," she whispered out. Erin just looked at her, closed his eyes, and sunk his head.

5 Rose's eyes were glued to the mirror. The ancient mirror that seemed to be action frozen in gold. Memorizing who she was, what she has become from her hands, to her breast, to her face, to the brown eyes that only shined in the sun. She thought of herself, how sure she was that she was untouchable - a queen with the fate to dominate. Now the devil came for its due and what stood before her was only tainted royalty - a demon.

Skin red, tough, no longer soft or clean, but drenched in sulfuric ash. Her hands were long with nails of black obsidian. No hair only horns that that stretch long - eyes of golden orbs in a skull with the skin too tight around the bones. "The world is cruel," she told herself. "Men are the worst." Her stare turned into a vicious glare.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall. When I look in you, I see the devil of perfection."

The dripping water echoed throughout the newly discovered cave; our Battalion had gotten separated from the main force after an earthquake that seemed to shake the earth to its core. We had fallen maybe fifteen hundred meters, maybe more, but there seemed to be no way out. I can hear Sergeant Perry breathing heavily about 10 to 20 meters from me, “Perry, you okay?”

“Do I sound okay? I think I broke my leg…you know what, it looks really bent out of place, so I’m sure it’s broken,” he said from the depths. I crawled to the edge of my platform and gently lowered myself onto Perry’s crag. I tapped the trigger of my torch, but it wasn’t igniting. There wasn’t enough cloth. The torch orb that protected the cloth had shattered and ripped it to shreds. “Hurry up, Eli, I’m dying here,” Perry complained. For a guy who just took a big fall, he sure knew how to keep his mouth running. After a couple failed attempts, I fumbled around in the dark, looking for his torch. The orb was smashed too, but the cloth was intact. After some ticking, I got the torch working. It lightened the weight of the dark.

“Finally…the dark was getting to me,” Perry said. His leg was a fuckin mess. It was bent backward and sticking out upright. I also noticed some empty vials on the ground. Painkillers. He’d taken a lot of them, which explains why he wasn’t screaming in pain.

“This is worse than I thought,” I told him.

“Listen, there’s no need to amputate okay, just break it back into place and-”

“Break it back into place?! Who do you think you are some sort of Ironman?” Perry struggled together a laugh. Ironman was our trump card up top. They were soldiers that didn’t feel pain and had the full arsenal from the Fringe Science Association. “I just took 3 times more than the recommended dose of painkillers. I’ll…be fine,” he slurred. “Wouldn’t be here if I was an Ironman.”

I looked at him for a second and then placed down the torch. This was going to hurt a lot. I took some cloth and tightened it around his leg to cut circulation. I grabbed one part and firmly pressed against his good leg. Then I stopped. I took a deep breath in and slammed down the leg that was sticking up. He fainted. After a couple of breaks, I was able to straighten his leg into something that looked like a normal leg. There was a high chance he wouldn’t be able to walk on it ever again. I wrapped up the leg with a brace and slung Perry on my back. I peered over the edge; there were a couple of platforms for us to travel down to. Once I reached the bottom, I noticed some more footprints leading deeper into the cave. Without Perry’s approval, I ventured down the trail. Judging from the footprints, I could tell they belong to one of ours. The enemy we were fighting didn’t necessarily have foot soldiers, emphasis on foot. I could hear those godforsaken beasts up top roaring with all their might. For a once, I thanked God that I was down here and not up there.

The trial told me that they had someone injured, and with our luck, we would meet up soon, and we did. “Who’s there,” said a voice around the corner. I stopped for a second. I knew the voice.

“Major Addison, you’re alive,” I said, revealing myself.

Major Addison was sitting down with a brace on her arm and her crossbow aimed at me. Next to her laid Sergeant Scott. “Sergeants Elijah, Perry, I thought you guys were goners. Is he-“

“No, he’s just asleep from all the painkillers he took,” I answered, creeping closer to the fire Addison had made for herself.

“Wait, don’t move. How do I know that’s really you,” Addison asked, her finger cradled gently on the trigger.

“Paranoia,” I thought, but it’s for a good cause. We only found out two days ago that some of the enemies could shape-shift into people we knew. We had the overwhelming advantage in numbers, and in a split second, those numbers were halved, and the next thing anyone knew was that the enemy was on top of us.

I cleared my throat, “~They got a name for the winners in the world/ I want a name when I lose/ They call Alabama the Crimson Tide/ Call me Deacon Blues~” Addison sighed. She released her hand on the trigger and dropped the crossbow.

“Thank God you guys are okay.”

“What happened to Scott,” I asked.

“I think he’s asleep. He was talking a few moments ago, something about how we’re close. He fell on some jagged rocks and ripped himself open, but I somehow was able to close the wound.”

“Did you use the Angel’s Kiss on him?”

“Yeah, does Perry need some?”

“Oh yeah, his right leg is pretty much mush,” I said, placing Perry down on his back. Addison pulled out a clear bottle with an eyeball submerged in a white liquid. She poured some into Perry’s mouth. He twitched for a moment, and then I felt his right leg began reforming bones, muscles, and skin tissues. “If he wasn’t on all those painkillers, he’d be screaming,” I said, chuckling to myself.

Addison gave me a stern look and then closed the bottle, placing it back into her pouch. “Amazing stuff,” I thought. It’s not fair that only high-ranking officials can have them. The idea of an undying command who shank fear into our enemies was a pointless theory. The monsters never feared us, and they will never fear us. I know a lot of good men that could have used that miracle drink.

“Have you been further down,” I asked. She shook her head no.

“You know, this could have ended a lot worse,” Addison said. I looked up to face her.

“What do you mean?”

“Before this battalion, I was a member of AF-365, you know the one that was meant to be scouting for advantage points in Devil’s Claw.”

“Yeah, I know, were you the one that you know — ” The word hung in my throat. It was like if I said it, it would have jinxed us or something.

“The beasts have this powder. They call it Hero’s Ecstasy.”

“What does it do?”

“It makes the user see monsters, but it also gives the user confidence, a lot of confidence,” groaned Scott, slowly opening his eyes.

“It creates illusions,” I asked.

“Something like that. It was made to cure fears, but it can be deadly if used as a weapon.” I looked back to Addison. She had her eyes closed and was taking deep breaths.

“I am sorry to hear that,” I responded, looking further down the cave. “We’ve lost a lot because of the war. Those good old days of having a beer at the bar down by the ocean listening to Steely Dan are long gone.”

“What’s your favorite Steely Dan album,” Scott asked.

“Aja, it’s the only one for me.”

“Addi, please shoot Eli in the head. He’s a traitor.” I chuckled while Addison tapped Scott on the forehead; he winced.

“Not funny, “ she said, leaning back against the boulder. It was nice sitting by the fire, not worrying about being ambushed. No need to shoot flare nets into the sky to protect against aerial attacks. It’s been years since we had peace, after the assassination of Hitler and World War 2 coming to an end. We thought that was the end of everything, but dead men always have a trick up their sleeve. Then they attacked.

Perry slowly opened his eyes and got up.

“Perry, glad to see you awake,” Addison said, shifting her position.

He didn’t respond and started walking deeper into the cave. “Sergeant Perry, where do you think you are going,” Addison demanded.

He didn’t respond. I got up and collected the torch and relit it.

“Perry, Perry,” I called out, but he just kept ongoing. Scott grunted himself up.

“The voices got him,” he said, starting to walk after Perry.

“What voices,” asked Addison; following after Scott, I followed behind.

“When I was unconscious, something called out to me. I thought I was dead and the voice was an angel or something. It kept showing me this path.”

“Did the path look just like this,” I said, pointing at the road ahead of us.

“Yeah, it looked a lot like this,” Scott finished, and we followed along. The path twisted and turned around walls of stone. There were claw marks on the walls. We readied whatever weapons we had on us: torches, knives, and Addison’s crossbow. It was only after having a close look at the crossbow that I notice it had no arrows. Not much you can do to the enemy with these, I thought.

We snuck along the walls until we found Perry’s tracks. They led to a small opening. We could see a blue light on the other side; our guts warned us of danger. “We might need a scout,” I said, crouching down trying to peer into the cave.

“Thanks for volunteering,” said Addison pulling out a metal plate from inside her jacket. It folded out to a helmet.

“Why me, why not, Scott? He’s a better scout than me,” I complained.

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Scott shot back.

“Stop it, both of you, Elijah; you’re the one with more experience on this than all of us. Not to mention you still talk to it,” Addison butted in.

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s weird,” said Scott.

I grabbed the helmet from Addison’s hand and gave her the torch. I found a seat by the entrance. Not in front of it but adjacent. I put on the helmet. It had a slithering snake inside this tube that wrapped around the base of the helmet. I flicked the switch on the side, and this sharp pain hit my mind, and then it went numb.

I woke up in a black room by myself; a small child sat in the middle. I walked up to him and sat down.

“You want me to go out there,” he asked.

I nodded yes. The child stood up. Small rocks fell to the floor. Rocks that were once precious to me. The child stopped and turned back to me. “I’ll be careful,” he said, and he was gone.

The child oozed himself out of my stomach like a newborn baby covered in some type of clear liquid. He crawled away from me and stood up.

“That never gets old,” Scott said, trying to hold himself back.

“Don’t go barfing on us, Scott,” Addison commanded, “Elijah do you sense anything?”

The child shook his head no and then walked through the entrance. Once inside, the child discovered that the blue light was just blue crystals illuminating the path. The child continued down the trail. He started to get goosebumps, which started to show up on my skin. The child pressed on slowly, looking around the cave. He caught a glimpse of a long centipede-like body scampering into the shadows. He shook his head in disapproval, and so did mine.

“You’ve got to find Perry, Elijah. Keep moving forward,” Addison pleaded.

The child moved down the path quickly. The faster we find Perry, the faster this could end. After thirty minutes of traveling, the child ended up in this open room, and then he found him.

He was standing in front of this large blue crystal. It was bigger than any navy ship, bigger than any skyscraper. Perry started to raise his hands like he was worshiping it like some type of god. Then they got him. Wrapping around him with their bodies and wings. Ignoring his screams and ripping him to shreds. The child started to back away but never made it.

I jumped up in pain, grabbing my chest. Trying to dig into my skin. “What did you see Eli,” Scott asked me, keeping me steady.

“Dragons,” I gasped out.

“Dammit!”

“Calm down,” Addison reassured us like she had some plan hidden away, “What happened to Perry?”

“Perry, he was devoured. They attacked him like he was some fuckin sacrifice,” I said, panicking.

“I think we should proceed forward,” Addison suggested.

“Go forward, are you mad? There’re Dragons down there. The monsters that have been picking us off like food,” Scott raged.

“Yeah, but what do you want to do; stay here and die from starvation, or until one of us loses our minds and we start devouring each other. There’s no backup, and we can’t just climb up to something.”

“It’s better than being ripped apart.”

“What’s stopping them from coming after us, coming through that entrance,” Addison said.

Scott turned to face the entrance; even though a full-grown dragon couldn’t fit, their destructive power could break through it. He turned to face the opposite direction.

“Fuck,” he said, “Let’s do this before I change my mind. What’s the plan?”

“Well, I have none yet, Elijah. What else did you see,” Addison asked.

“Well, there was this large blue crystal. Perry was worshiping it before he died. There were also some smaller blue crystals lighting the way,” I said.

“Well, I have the making of a plan right now, but you’re not going to like it.”

“We are not getting out of this alive, are we,” Scott asked.

“We might if we play our cards right, but we’ll have no more Angel’s Kiss left.” Scott and I both looked at each other and then back to Addison.

Once inside, the cave felt colder than before. “Death’s presence,” joked Scott. Didn’t really make traversing the trail any better, especially because I had already traversed this trail before. I knew what was coming.

Once we got close enough to the large crystal, we could hear the Dragons' scampering around us. Then I stepped in something wet. I looked down and placed my hand on the puddle. It flowed back into me along with the pain. I don’t know if I could bring him out again.

We handed our torches to Addison, who wrapped them up to make a bigger torch. Scott and I readied our knives and slowly started to creep around the edges of the cave leading up to the large crystal. The Dragons slithered away from us; we had to be cautious. Addison threw the torch in the middle of the room. It wasn’t lit. The Dragons leaped from the shadows and onto the torch. Addison had tied a string to it.

Once we had reached the large crystal, we whistled to notify her that it was time. The dragons turned around to face us. Addison jumped from her cover and pulled the string. It flicked the lever and reignited the torch into a blue explosion knocking Addison back and the dragons forward. The smell of burnt meat made me wince. Without hesitation, Scott ran forward and started stabbing the creatures. Then the dragons started to scream, sounding like small children. It froze me in place. 

Addison had just joined the fray and was cutting some beasts down. As I stared at them, I could see them laughing, giggling enjoying themselves. All fear they had just vanished. I heard rumors that Angel’s Kiss was flammable, but I also heard that the gas was poisonous. I just couldn’t remember if it was fatal. “Oi, Addison, what’s next,” I asked.

Addison and Scott both looked at each other and started laughing. “The crystal silly,” Addison said.

Crazed, both of them ran towards the crystal and jabbed their knives into it, causing it to crack. I watched as the cracks shot up the crystal. Then it stopped, and I didn’t hear any more stabbing. I looked back down to see Addison and Scott not moving but looking at me. Their eyes glazed over in a blue haze tint.

“Guys, you okay,” I ask, slowly approaching them. Addison staggered up to me and swiped at me with her knife. She grazed my chest. I moved forward and disarmed her.

“Major Addison, what in the seven hells are you doing,” I yelled.

She didn’t respond. She only struggled to get out of my embrace. I felt a sharp pain in my back, and I released her. I turned around to see Scott with a bloody knife in his hand. He dashed towards me, and I charged into him, dropping my knife.

Knocking him down but not before he jabbed his knife into my stomach. I turned my head to see Addison dashing towards me, and I rolled out of the way. I got up to attack, but I witnessed my mistake. Addison had fallen on top of Scott and was repeatedly stabbing him. I ran forward and kicked Addison in the jaw, knocking her back.

Once she was on the floor, and I landed on top of her. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and then bit her tongue. After a couple of minutes of just holding her down, she either drowned in her own blood or choked on her tongue. It didn’t matter which because life had left her. I got up and glared at the crystal. I grabbed my knife from the floor and started walking towards it.

I knew we weren’t getting out of this alive; I was surprised we made it this far. The crystal had some type of power, something that could control people’s minds. Then I noticed it. Claws. There were these massive claws on the side of the crystal. They were huge. I looked around the room. I didn’t see anything that connected to it until I looked up. Two large eyes stared down at me; two large dragon eyes, two blue eyes. I walked up to the crystal, and I started to jab into it.

The first jab felt like some was taking my soul away from me. It brought me back to the black room where the kid in me was pulling with all his might from my arm. A blue door had shown up. I jabbed again, and instead of walking towards the door, it came closer.

“Don’t do it, you can’t kill it, you can’t,” the child said.

I jabbed again, and I fell to my knees, coughing blood.

Coughing and sweating in my own filth, I raised my hand one last time. “Erde den Drachen, we win,” I said, and with one last jab we…

The light breeze from the open window refreshed the tiny café. It was usually empty during this time of the day. All the customers would be down by the beach enjoying the golden shine the sun was producing, listening to the ocean waves soothing their souls like a lullaby told by a loving mother. The heat from the setting sun always had a way of healing the skin, giving a burnt result. These are just some of the many reasons people came to Orcan, but it is the coffee from La Mémoire that puts the body to bed.

Mica relaxed back into her chair. She couldn’t get comfortable. It was like someone had put a prickled snake down her skin, not inside her but between the skin and the muscle. She picked up her tan mug of coffee and took a sip. There wasn’t any left.

Mica looked out towards the ocean and frowned. The sight didn’t help her. She wasn’t a tourist anymore. She hadn’t been one for a long time. She was born in Orcan, and her very first sight of the ocean that she could remember was when she was three years old. It looked like a monster blocked by some sand barrier, waiting for its chance to swallow her whole. It didn’t take long for Mica to love the ocean, but it took her longer to leave it.

The bell to the café dinged. Mica looked up towards the entrance as a young man walked in. He had long hair that was barely touching his shoulders. His bangs hooked back to make a man bun. It suited him well. He wore a ripped t-shirt that didn’t look worn out but, designer. He had small square glasses that sat well on his nose. He was perfect.

He walked through the orange-tanned sun rays that lit up the room and through the vast ocean of dust that floated among the space. He pulled up a chair across from Mica.

“Hey,” he said, trying to make eye contact but ended up staring out the window. Mica stared at him. Her fingers, squeezing the mug. The tension bricked up in the room, but the gentle breeze made it breathable. They sat there in silence. “How is it in — ”

“It’s okay, busier than here,” said Mica, still looking outside. Looking at him was hard. So many memories, most of them good, few bad, but it’s the bad ones that she remembers.

“I miss you,” the young man said, reaching across the table. Mica pulled back, bringing her mug closer to her. The young man stopped and rested his hands on the table. “Your father comes down to visit sometimes. We don’t talk. He sits with me. Sometimes he’s out there with me till late in the night. I think he’s worried about you.”

“I didn’t call you here to talk about who you’re spending your me-time with,” Mica said.

The young man’s smile faded. He had a feeling this is why she came back. Mica had moved out of Orcan to Isogashī. A bigger city. More opportunities and away from home.

It was like she was running from something. It could be from the pressure her mother would put on her. The world needs more accountants, she would nag. We have enough artists in the world. Mica would struggle to keep back the tears. Her father would say nothing and just watched. Mica couldn’t rely on him. There were moments that her father would encourage her. Her father was there when she needed him. Only when she needed him.

He was a quiet man, kept to himself. He ran the La Mémoire. On the other hand, Mica's mother ran a multi-million dollar hotel chain that ran along the coast. All of the hotels in Orcan belong to her. Put away the sketchbook and help me balance my books, one day, you’ll be running this company, or would you instead work with your father? Mica could never tell if her mother loved her. In the end, she didn’t care.

“How’s the painting going,” the young man said. Mica looked over at him.

“It’s good. I was working at an art museum for a while. I taught some kids how to paint.”

“Did you sell any of your paintings?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said, looking down at her mug.

“That’s good.” He paused. “Mica, why did you come back?”

“I came back,” she said and then took a deep breath. “I came back to tell you goodbye.”

“You already did when you left.”

“I meant for real.”

Mica’s fingers started to tremble. It wasn’t noticeable, but to her, it felt like there was an earthquake in her bones. She fidgeted in her seat. The prickled snake was back.

“Even when I’m away, I think of you. It’s obsessive, and it’s also the reason I’ve become successful. When I paint, I paint you. It’s always you. You’ve trapped me in this cage, and I just want to get out,” Mica said. “I want my thoughts back. I want to explore. To think freely without thinking about you. It’s not fair how you invade my mind, violating it with your presence. I want you gone.”

The young man sat there hurt, confused, but betrayed. This was more than a simple breakup or goodbye. Mica wanted to erase him from her life forever. It was an execution and a funeral.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Sorry, won’t cut it, just release me from your spell.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. There is no spell. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

“Stop it. You don’t love. You don’t even care. You’re not even-” Mica said, holding herself back.

The young man could feel his heartbreaking. Like ice shattering off into the ocean. Into its bottomless depth. Mica denied the time they spent together. She was trying to close the door to their life together. The young man couldn’t.

“Mica. Leave,” he said.

The sun was now dipping into the ocean. Eating its light. “Just leave because I can’t ever stop thinking about you. You gave me life when I didn’t even know I had it. You gave form when I was formless. You’re such a part of me that if I forget you, I would…” He didn’t have to finish to get his point across because he couldn’t. He was interrupted by his tears.

“That’s not fair. That’s not fair,” Mica said. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You did. You wanted a friend, and you got more than a friend.”

“If I knew-”

“Knew what? That it’s hard to live alone after you felt the love of another. That the warmth of being together was so addicting. You’re special, Mica, and you don’t even know it. I can’t help you forget about me. I can only love you.”

“Love someone else. That’s not a request. It’s an order.”

The young man started to feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was an emotion buried deep inside him. The gentle breeze disappeared, and Mica felt a chill. It was cold. Ice.

The waves picked up, and the wind turned violent. This wasn’t a storm out of nowhere. There was word about a hurricane off the coast. It wasn’t going to hit the town, but they would be getting a storm.

“It doesn’t work that way,” said the young man. “Why not?”

“Because you just can’t stop loving someone.” Mica gripped the mug harder.

“People do it all the time,” she said.

“People are liars.”

“Then be a liar!”

“I can’t lie to myself.”

“Then lie to me.”

“I…,” said the young man trying to string together his thoughts. They struggled to come out like a pyramid being sucked out of a tube.

Mica stared at the young man. She’d never seen him make a face like that. It was twisted and distorted. His perfect face showed pain. It was like he was having a battle with himself to give Mica what she wanted, but he was losing this battle. “Oh, come on,” she said; she felt something welling up. “It’s easy. Just tell me you found someone else.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve only thought of you.”

Mica shot straight up. She hesitated to throw the mug.

“Please just let me go,” she said.

“If I do, I’ll die.”

Mica froze and then dropped back into her seat. Her hand, loosely grabbing the mug. She just wanted to be free. Free from the stress of knowing she had someone back home waiting for her. She didn’t want to let him down. If he were gone, she’d go where she’d want to go. Do what she wanted to do. Love whom she wanted to love. She didn’t want to kill him. She just wanted to be normal like everyone else.

The mug slipped from her hand and fell to the floor just as lightning struck off in the distance. The young man glanced out the window and then smiled.

“1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9,” he said. Then a thunderous boom went off. “9 miles out.”

Mica looked up. The tears flowed gently down her face. She didn’t want to fight with him anymore. She didn’t want to fight him in the first place. It was just easier to run, scream, and cry than face the truth.

She missed him.

The young man stood up and took a glance out the window. The stars were just showing themselves. The storm was almost gone; it was fading on the horizon. He walked over and knelt down. He wiped her tears and kissed her forehead.

“You’re a special girl Mica. If you need some time, take it. I have all the time in the world.”

The young man stood up and walked out of the cafe, leaving Mica alone in the dark. She looked out the window. The breeze was now gentle, and the young man melted away into the ocean waves. She could run or hide, but she will always find herself painting the ocean in the end. She had, after all, captured the ocean’s heart.

Definitions • La Mémoire. This is of French origin meaning ‘the memory’. • 忙しい (Isogashī). This is of Japanese origin meaning ‘busy’.

Mark sat down in the back of the small apartment with his hands clenched together. He looked over at the digital clock hanging on the wall over a worn leather sofa. Everything he has was worn and second-hand.

It was a quarter after two.

He rubbed his face and laid his head back against the wall. A large sigh exhales from his body reveals the nerves in his stomach.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he said to himself. He had gotten himself in a small quarrel with a girlfriend. A typical thing but this time, he couldn’t wrap his head around why she was so upset with him. He glanced over to the dinner table. It was small and made out of light aluminum and yellow plastic. The chairs matched as well. On the table, two plates of food lay untouched. One was half-eaten, and the other only had scraps of what look to be rice, chicken, and broccoli.

They were eating when they argued. Mark had gobbled down his food; he hadn’t eaten all day. At the same time, Sherry (bless her heart) was barely eating the food. Something had bothered her. It was something Mark had said.

“I’ve never seen you actually finish a plate of food in my life,” he said.

Sherry looked up at him, her eyebrows pinched together, creating a look of anger.

“What? It’s true.”

“No, it’s not,” she said calmly. She was trying her best not to turn this into a fight.

“Sure, but do you remember the last time we are out? I think it was Peter’s; you didn’t even finish your burger.”

“I did eat before that.”

“What about BPs?”

“What about it,” she said, putting down the fork. Mark wasn’t going to let this go.

“We didn’t even order a lot, but you barely touched your pasta. I am starting to think that maybe you are anorexic.”

Sherry wasn’t thin or starving. She looked like anyone else. Her skin wasn’t drying out, and her hair was just fine.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey,” Mark said, leaning back into his chair and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll still love you either way.”

“I don’t think that’s what’s going on.”

“Listen. I see the signs, and I know what’s going on.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t know what’s going on. Just because you experience something doesn’t mean that it’s true to me.”

“Babe. Everyone does that. What we experience with a person tells us what’s going on. Like when I buy something and get upset because now I don’t have any money. You know through your experience that I bought a bad purchase.”

“I get it, but you are denying my experience, and I don’t think I have an eating disorder.”

“Just from what I see, you have one.”

“Well, I’m glad that what you see determines how I experience things. Now, all mighty god, tell me what other experiences determine who I am.”

“Sherry, it’s not like that. Just chill. It’s not a big deal.”

“There you go telling me it’s not a big deal, but hey, it might not be a big deal to you. But it is for me. Because it lays out what’s been itching at me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about you. You are the most normal person in the world, but if someone calls you normal, you say, ‘no, I’m not normal; I’m hella weird.’ If you make a mistake, you don’t accept it and play it off that I’ve made a mistake. You’re just a victim of miscommunication. When it’s plain to see that you are so far up your ass that you don’t even know how to relate to others or even how to accept your faults,” said Sherry, her hand tightly gripping the fork while her other hand is balled up into a fist. She was building up, and her anger was pouring through the cracks. She didn’t want another fight, but now she was tired of dealing with the type of person Mark is.

“Wow, firstly, I do accept my faults. I know when I’m wrong.”

“No, you don’t; you think you do, but you don’t. When you went and started diagnosing me with anorexia, did you think that maybe you were wrong?”

“I-I’m not—you’re making—listen, it’s not like that. I was just stating my opinion. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“So it’s alright to gaslight me and then play the victim. You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“A little bit,” said Mark adjusting in his seat.

“And that everything I’ve said so far doesn’t apply to you, and I’m making all this up,” she said. Sherry stands up and grabs her coat. “Mark, you’re a dick. You can continue thinking you’re a growing human being. You can continue thinking everyone is stupid, and you are the only one with common sense. You can continue thinking you’ve made progress in your life, but until you figure out how to see yourself in other people’s shoes, then maybe our relationship would‘ve worked.”

“Fine, leave. Gawd, if this were a discord call, I would have ended it seconds ago. I don’t need this type of toxicity in my life. I’m not wrong. You have problems. Go fix them.”

Sherry stared at him. She couldn’t believe how arrogant Mark was. Perhaps he has been this way and was just good at hiding it. She adjusts her coat, holding on to the sides because deep down, she didn't want everything to end. Mark wasn’t giving her any other choice.

“Yeah, I do. I can’t believe I thought that having a relationship with you was even possible.”

“See, you didn’t think it through. Not my fault. You knew what you were getting into.”

“No, I didn’t. You have two sides. One that plays the intellectual that attracts people; you’re easy to talk to, fun to be around. Your thoughts are unique, and your plans are ambitious. The other side is the one that shows that you don’t grow. It fights back at you, and when you think you’ve grown, you haven’t. It’s the crude you that just says your opinions, and everyone else is wrong. It’s a dark you that plays the victim because Mark is never wrong, just miscommunicated.”

Sherry put on her shoes and leaves. Slamming the door behind her, causing Mark to flinch.

He chuckled to himself and just sat there. He opens his phone, but nothing was calling for him. His Instagram, which full of models and Instagram thots, didn’t catch his attention like it used to. His Reddit, which is full of pc, gaming, and stock posts, didn’t pull him either. He just sat there as Sherry’s lunch got cold.

Now he was presently sitting on the floor. He had waited two hours for Sherry to come back. Two hours without calling her or texting her. He just sat there waiting.

“I’m not the one at fault. People just don’t know how to deal with their baggage,” he told himself like a lousy therapist trying to cheer himself up. He sat for a couple more minutes before dozing off for a nap.

When he woke up, nothing had changed. He walked around the apartment. Sherry’s clothes were gone, and anything else that belonged to her was missing. The room felt bigger without her, more space.

He washed the dishes and then checked the clock; 9:00 pm.

After a long hot shower, he laid himself down to sleep. The bed felt colder with his newfound space. Everything felt colder. He wrapped himself into his sheets, and soon, after crying, he was asleep.

“It’s not my fault.”