“I was just trying to be what you wanted.” His voice cracks on the last word, tears streaming down his too-tanned face. “Please, don’t go.”
I look away, feeling awful knowing what I’m about to say will only make this worse. He deserves to know the truth, though, no matter how much it will hurt.
“I liked you the way you were….before. Now, I can’t even look at you.”
He winces at my confession and runs a hand through his too-bleached hair. “Just give me some time. My natural color will grow back and then—“
“No, you misunderstand. It’s not about the hair. It’s who you’ve become. This arrogant…jerk. You think acting like a cool guy makes you better, but it’s made you unbearable to be around. I miss the old you. The one who would walk me home from school and always cheered me on at my games. Remember when we used to go to the quarry to watch the sunrise on the first day of the new school year? Or how you used to bring apple slices in your lunch everyday, even though you hated them, just because I liked them? Can you go back to being that guy? Because he’s the one I want.”
At some point, I started crying too. Nose leaking. Makeup running. I don’t know what’s more of a mess, me or this situation.
With a sad smile, he nods and pulls me into a hug.
“Think you’ll want to go out with the guy who has no friends and reads comics in his spare time?”
“That’s exactly the guy I want.” I squeeze him tighter and look up into his eyes. Those eyes that I turn to when I’m nervous or unsure of myself. Looking at him like this feels like coming home after a long trip. Pushing up onto my toes, I give him a kiss on the cheek.
“That’s all I get?” He says jokingly.
“Just you wait for our date.” I laugh and for the first time in a long time, it’s genuine.
It was the eve of November, when the werewolves rose and the moon howled. I had woken to the sound of my parents dying screams, followed shortly by my sister. I lay cowering under my bed, praying they would not come for me. I hear scuffling and faint growls down the hallway. They’ve caught my scent and it won’t be long now. With a final sigh, I raise the gun to my head and know I will soon join my family. As I pull the trigger, the gun clicks and the werewolves burst through the door. No god was listening tonight.
The day started as any other. I woke from a dreamless sleep, hair a ratty mess of curls. Stretching my arms, I released a yawn and surveyed my bedside table, finding a glass of water. Though the drinks had seemed weak at the time, the blistering headache suggested otherwise. I gulped down half the glass before returning it to the table. The water rippled once, twice and continued dancing as the entire room began to shake.
A mix of confusion and anxiety overtook me. Ripping the covers off, I jumped to the window only to find myself faced with the unimaginable. From the mountain capped in mist, twelve glowing lights descended. Even with the sunshine, their radiance was unmatched and I found myself blinking away tears from gazing at them too long. Trailing just behind the lights, figures cloaked in smoke bounded down the mountain. Not again.
Gritting my teeth, I reached for my sword, propped against the outer door. There were few things that could ruin my day. Having to defend the towns people from vengeful Gods was high on the list. Even higher, was having to do it with a hangover.
Luckily I had passed out in my fighting leathers. So with the buckling of my sword belt, I was ready for battle. As I opened the door I was met with utter chaos. Children cried and women bid their husbands farewell, praying they would return. The street was littered with broken glass and the smell of fire wafted in from the edge of town. Walking turned to joggging as the distant sounds of fighting dwindled. I hoped I wasn’t too late.
Sweat slicked my forehead as the oppressive heat grew nearer. I could just make out the shapes of the militiamen being consumed by smoke, one by one. Pulling my sword free, I prepared for the onslaught.
“Why have you come here, Shalia?” Boomed an unearthly voice above me.
Peering up, I looked into the burning eyes of The Huntress and tried to stifle my terror. Though I had been her patroness for years now, there was still something unsettling about meeting her on a battlefield.
“I have to defend these people. Without me, they are helpless.”
“Perhaps if they had given a better offering, we would have not needed to go to such extremes.”
“Please, the harvest has not been fruitful this season. If you could just give us more—“
“Silence. Nothing can excuse this insult. We offered our protection and in turn, have been stilted. Now, you all will pay in blood.”
I raised my sword just in time to block her assault, staggering with the impact. She whistles, summoning her pack of Hellhounds. Within the blink of an eye, I’m surrounded, smoke clouding the air around me. Eyes watering, I lash out as they lunge toward me. One goes for my ankle, but I kick it away as another leaps for my arm. It’s maw dripping with the blood of another, it latches onto my sleeve, just missing my flesh. Slamming the pommel on its head, Ilet out a scream as an arrow pierces my shoulder.
“Shalia, I’m coming. Just hang on.”
I cut down the closest Hellhound and run toward the voice. Nearly crashing into Ashara, I clutch her arm to steady myself.
“About time you got here. We need to find The Father and convince him to call this off.” I croak, my throat burning from the smoke.
“I know, I know. But how do we find him in all this?”
“Listen for the sound of a God laughing at the weak towns people?” I offer with a shrug.
“Ha ha, I don’t thin—“
A maniacal cackle sounds from our left. I give Ashara a look that says I told you so. She rolls her eyes. Readying our weapons, we turn and race in the direction of the cruel laughter.
“Well if it isn’t Ashara the Damned and Shalia the Relentless, what brings you to me? Should you not be trying to save these wretches?” The Father watches us. His all-white eyes boring into our souls.
“We come to bargain with you,” I say. Stop this and we will offer ourselves to you.”
“Wait, what?” Ashara gawks at me.
“This is an interesting proposal. Two decorated warriors to do my bidding.”
“Make that three, if you agree.” Out of the smoke, Thanar joins us. His light hair coated in black blood, though he appears unharmed. He gives me an arrogant smile.
“Thanar Stonebreaker, first of his name and heir apparent to the throne, what a prize you will be.” The father’s wicked smile makes my skin prickle. I try not to think of what nightmares await us.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Deal.” With the snap of his fingers, The Father’s children and Hellhounds evaporate. Leaving us standing in a field of broken bodies and blood stained grass. Bright green bands form around our wrists, etched with The Father’s name in the Holy Language. “We have much to do, my children. Say goodbye to your families and meet me at the base of the mountain. Bring only what you need.”
The Father disappears in a blinding surge of light.
“A little warning would have been nice.” Ashara says, gritting her teeth.
“I’m sorry. There was no other way he’d agree.”
Thanar turns and strides away. “If you two are done bickering, I’ll see you in an hour at the meeting location. Don’t be late.,” He shouts.
With nothing but the sword at my hip, I head toward the mountain, hoping The Gods have a magical hangover cure waiting for me at the top.
Wind raced in from the open window, scattering Stella’s papers across the room. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she felt the pressure drop. She rose from the desk and reached for the window, feeling raindrops peppering her hand. Latching the window, she tried to keep from shuddering at the crack of thunder in the distance. She had always been afraid of lightning storms.
It had been weeks since they had had a good rain. Fires had broken out across the mountains, keeping the valley lit with embers in the middle of the night. At least now, the wildfires would be extinguished and the land could begin to heal.
Stella picked up her papers and returned to her desk, determined to work on her book, despite the impending storm. With thunder rattling her house, she began to write, tuning out the world completely.
“So, who’s going to die today?”
“Excuse me?” I say, turning toward the man in the back of the elevator.
The stranger looks at me with a puzzled expression. He gestures to the phone at his ear.
Sorry, I mouth. Embarassed, I twist back to face the door and wait for my floor number to appear on the display.
7…..8…..9…..
Could this thing go any slower?
“Yeah, I should be there in an hour. Think you can have them wait until then?” He says it quieter this time, as if he doesn’t want me to overhear what he’s saying. Maybe he thought I was eavesdropping on his private conversation….or maybe he was up to something nefarious. Something he didn’t want others to repeat.
12…..13…..
I start tapping my foot, willing the elevator to speed up. Whatever was going on, I wanted no part of it. I envision the man holding a knife, sharpening the blade as he asks “So, who’s going to die today?”
The man ends his conversation with a humorless laugh. “Leave some for me, man. Seen ya soon.”
Sweat slickens my palms. I discreetly wipe them on my sleeves.
16….17…………..
The elevator lurches to a halt. The bright red seventeen flashes. One floor away, damnit.
“Ugh, of course this would happen today. The landlord really needs to get this thing fixed. My buddy got stuck in here the other day for two hours.” He grumbles.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Wish I was. Could be awhile before they send anyone out to get us.” The man looks me up and down. “Say, have I seen you around before? You look so familiar.”
“Probably not, I just moved here this week.”
“Ya don’t say? Well, welcome to the building. It’s a real great place, as you can see” he gestures around us. I give a short laugh, hoping he can’t tell the panic that is beginning to set in beneath my nonchalance.
“HEELLLLPPP” I shout, “WE’RE STUCK IN HERE”
He bangs his fist against the wall. “No one can hear you. These walls are solid metal.”
I need to find a way out of here. Looking around, I see the emergency hatch on the ceiling. If I could just get up there, I might be able to pull the lever to open it and climb out. The man, following my gaze, says “Need a boost?”
“Yes…uh please?”
He lowers into a crouch, like a panther ready to pounce, and motions for me to step on his shoulders. Once I’m up, I grasp the lever and turn it counter-clockwise, the door releases. Pushing it open, I start to pull myself onto the roof. Half of my body is through the hole when meaty hands circle my ankles and tug me back down. I collapse into a heap on the elevator floor. Dazed, I look up into the cruel face of the man.
He laughs, holding his stomach. “Did you really think I would just let you go? Where’s the fun in that?”
Terror fills me and I let out a scream that no one will be able to hear.
Droplets of rain beat down on me mercilessly. No matter how far down I pulled my hood, water still managed to cloud my vision. Arms screaming from exertion, I paddled on.
Twice on the left. Twice on the right.
I couldn’t look back. I didn’t even need to. I knew where they were from the sound of their shouts.
“Hurry, we’re gaining on him! Don’t slow down now”
Wave after wave pulled my canoe off its course. As I struggled to right myself, I saw the light in the distance. It wasn’t much further. With a leveling breath, I cleared my mind and focused only on my destination.
Twice on the left. Twice on the right. Twice on the le—
A hand grabbed my jacket and pulled me sideways, sending me flailing into the thrashing current. Lungs screaming from lack of oxygen, clothes tugging me down into the depths, I tried to breach the surface. Each time I got close, I was wrestled away by the raging river. I was a prisoner; the river, my warden. Kicking with all my strength, I broke free, gasping for air.
The chaos of the storm had capsized my assailants boat. Where they were, I didn’t know and couldn’t bring myself to care.
Like a man possessed, I only cared about getting to the shore. Years on the swim team were no help to me now. With every inch I gained, I lost another two. Soon I was exhausted and no closer to safety. Unable to tread water, I floated on my back and accepted that this is how it would end for me. There was no winning against nature. I was spent and she continued to rage on, throwing wave after wave over me.
As I began to fade, my only thought was of all the things I had never gotten to do. Seeing the world, marrying my love, raising a family, growing old. Each one evaporating, leaving only darkness in their place.
February 15th Momma says that she’s found me a match. He lives in a mansion across the country; it’s been in his family for generations. I know I should be excited, but there’s a part of me that fears he will be disappointed in me. Though I do not possess all the attributes of a distinguished lady, Papa says my beauty is unrivaled and any man would be lucky to have me. Maybe I’m borrowing trouble where there’s none…I’ll meet my soon-to-be husband in three days. I just hope he’s young and handsome. The last thing I want is a frog in a suit.
February 18th Today, I met Andrew Van Higgins. He’s not at all what I expected. I wouldn’t call him ugly, but his hair looks like hay and he smells slightly of eggs. Nothing a little soap and a comb can’t fix! We’re having dinner in the ballroom this evening. I’ve decided to wear the baby blue dress I got for my birthday last year. Momma said it brings out my eyes. Hopefully, Andrew thinks so too.
March 2nd It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had time to write. Wedding planning is in full swing and the list of attendees keeps growing. Andrew has more aquaintances than a man who barely talks should! Everyday, I meet someone new who has “known Andrew since he was this tall” or is “forever indebted to Andrew for saving my company from bankruptcy”. I end each day exhausted from the constant circus of luncheons, teas, and high society balls. My fiancé is still a stranger to me. I’ll have to get him to know him better before the wedding at the end of the month. I will NOT be spending my wedding night trying to figure out what his favorite color is…that would be pitiful.
March 29th It’s blue!! His exact words were “the blue of your eyes. Like the sky on a peaceful morning or the lake I frequented as a boy.” Who knew the financier Van Higgins was a secret poet? A veritable wordsmith! Also, I gifted him a new bergamot soap. No more egg smell!
March 31st Mrs. Van Higgins Goldie Van Higgins
April 30th At tea the other day, all the ladies were talking about how boring their husbands were and that they much prefered when the men were away on business. That’s how I know my marriage is something different. When Andrew is away, I mourn and when he’s near, I relish in his attention. Even though I don’t have much experience with other men, Andrew is special. He asks me about my day, has the chef make all my favorite desserts, and holds me as if I am something precious. It’s seems all my fears were for naught. I am the wife to a wonderful man and everyday is better than the last.
She scanned the page again, but the words were the same. Sweat slickened her hands as she crumbled the note, smearing the ink in the process. The words “to be released” stained her palm. Chewing on her lip, she tried to clear her thoughts. Panic would only slow her down. She needed to act…To go. To do something, anything, but not let the fear consume her.
Rising from her chair, she rushed to her bedroom and pulled the duffel bag from the top of her closet. Shirts, socks, underwear, shorts. No, pants instead. Where she was going would be too cold for shorts. Each tick of the grandfather clock drew it closer. The steady rhythm like a gavel pounding on her back.
Where were her boots? They weren’t on the shoe rack so they must be at the front door. As she rounded the corner of the hallway, she froze. The door was wide open. It was too late. He were here. Everything stopped, the world went silent.
Floorboards creaked from behind her and she turned to face what she could not escape. Standing behind her, with a smile that could through metal, was the one person she had been avoiding for months.
“Hello, sweetheart. Did you miss me?” His voice, deceptively sweet, could not hide the anger in his creased brow. Staring down at her as if she were no more than a pesky insect, her ex-husband grabbed ahold of her wrist. “We have much to discuss.”
Rebecca lay sprawled with blades of grass tickling her arms, eyes closed and lost in thought. The breeze, a distant murmur, was lulling her to sleep. She found herself awestruck by this perfect moment. For weeks she had been working herself ragged at the local tavern, dealing with drunkards whose hands often roamed and cleaning sticky spots she prayed were from spilled mead. This tiny sliver of peace was her one reprieve from the hell her life had become. A bird’s song further in the meadow reminded her of the days she used to spend with her siblings, chasing each other across the rolling hills that stretched on for miles. Simpler times, for a girl who did not understand that the world would take from her until she had nothing left to give.
As the warmth of the sun began to fade, so too did Rebecca’s hope that someone might come and save her from her unending misery. Still laying in the grass that had started to make her itch, she opened her eyes to see that twilight had overtaken the sky, leaving freckles of stars to guide her home. With a sigh, she rose to her feet and began her long trek back to the village.
