It was done, and baked to a beautiful perfection. The yellow cake was ever so slightly golden, and despite being firm, it was soft and spongy. A light smile graced my face. It was my first cake at my new job, at least, the first one I’d made without any assistance.

“The icing.” The voice came over my shoulder and I turned to my childhood friend, meeting his warm eyes as he held out the icing for me. We both applied for the same job, and we both got admitted. However, only one of us would keep the job. After today, our boss would choose the cake he thought was best… and one of us would walk home without the job of our dream. It would be the first time in all our life that we wouldn’t be together in something.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “But I already have the icing of my choice in my possession.”

He paused, a strange emotion flashing through his face. “I see,” he said with a nod. “Well, I wish you the best of luck.”

“You too.” I kept my eyes on his retreating form. I had chosen pinks and blues for the icing on my cake. I turned to my cake and smoothed out the icing, dropping in smeared pink hearts in the light blue. I blew out a shaky breath, my cheeks a bright crimson, and began to draw a dog on the top of the cake in white icing. It was a small dog, a puppy in fact, with pointy ears and a look of hope in its round and shining eyes. More specifically, it was a white German Shepherd puppy.

I took a step back to admire my work, and then picked it up and walked it to the table, sitting it beside the other cake, perfect and two tiered. It was all white, with white puffs of icing along the side and a thin red line which traveled all about the cake, winding and winding around the sides, before coming to curl in a perfect heart on the top.

I took a steady breath, feeling my eyes burn as our boss looked over the two cakes. It was clear which one he preferred. But my friend, he stared not at the cakes or at our boss as I was, but at me. His gaze bore into me, and I knew exactly why. I had exposed myself to him. I had known from the beginning that I would not win the challenge, and that I would lose the job. But I didn’t want that to separate us. So for my cake I had not just put a puppy on it, but the puppy we had wanted as children… when we were married.

“Rose,” I met my boss’ gaze. He shook his head. “Thank you for your excellent work. I am happy to recommend you to other bakeries in the area.”

“Thank you.”

“Shane, my boy,” he turned to my friend and shook his hand. “Congratulations. I will see you tomorrow and we will go over your new duties.” He took a step back and smiled at us both. “That is all for today, thank you both for your great work.”

I dipped my head in acknowledgement and quickly made my way to the exit.

“Rose…”

I walked faster, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.

“Rose.” His voice was closer, and firmer as I pushed open the door and walked out the shop. I had made my intentions clear, but not because I thought he would come after me. I simply wanted him to know… It was selfish, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing.

“Rose!” Shane came running up behind me and grabbed my arm. “Rose I-“ he stopped. He must have felt the way I trembled at his touch. I kept walking. Shane fell into a comfortable silence and walked slowly with me. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t want to deal with the consequences of my actions. So I wandered about the streets, turning here and there, with my best friend walking by my side.

At last I felt a tug, and I finally turned to look at him. But he wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he opened a door and stared inside. Barks and howls came from the door and my eyes widened. Could he really mean- “Do you want to go in?” He asked.

I smiled. “Yes. I’d like that.”

His hands shook as he picked up the knife, it’s sharp blade glinting from the flickering fluorescent lights. He didn’t want to do this… He couldn’t. But he had to. His whole family depended on it. His wife, his oldest Bernard, Claire, Evie, and his youngest, Terese. They would all starve if he didn’t do this. He needed the money for them, and he was desperate enough to do anything for it.

He lifted his eyes to the person before him, her look full of concern and regret. He took a deep shaky breath, and at last, he cut the bread in half. “Would you like mayonnaise on that?” He asked with a quivering voice.

The woman lifted an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

“Of course.” He gulped.

Gosh he hated sub shops.

“Clearly it was put there. Probably by a crane or something.”

“Probably,” I responded with a hum, tilting on the back of my heels. “But what if it sprouted there?”

My companion stopped in her tracks with a judgmental stare. “It did not.”

I smiled. “Well no, probably not, but what if it did?”

“But it didn’t.”

“But Maybe,” I added with emphasis to the word, “it did.”

Her eyebrow twitched. That was all I needed to know. I’d managed to get under her skin again. It was all I could do to keep the smile on my face from turning into a big grin. She scowled. Apparently, I’d failed.

“It would make no sense for a house to just sprout there, like that on a ledge, none-the less!” she added with a flourish of her hand. “In fact, it doesn’t make sense for a house to sprout at all!”

“Really?” I tilted my head with a puzzled look while she fumed. “I mean, I don’t see why a house sprouting from the ground is any stranger than a plant sprouting from the ground.”

“Excuse me?” I laughed, the look on her face had gone from fury to genuine concern for my mental health in seconds. I continued.

“I mean honestly, have you never thought how strange it is that a living plant sprouts from a seed and pushes through the ground?” She narrowed her eyes with distrust.

“No, I don’t see how that’s strange. In fact, we studied plants in my science class the other day.”

“Hmm. Well let’s try the other angle then. Let’s say it was dropped there -“

“It WAS.”

“well, don’t you think it’s strange that it fell?”

I must have grown another head with a stranger face than the one I had if her look was anything to go by. “No! Of course that’s not strange! That’s normal!”

“Is it?” I mused. “Is it really normal for something to fall? What if the normal was actually to float - to not fall. Maybe earth is the odd planet out. Maybe things were never meant to fall, but now they do. In fact, what it-“ I stopped, I had clearly lost her, but she no longer looked mad. Instead, it seemed she really was trying to figure it out. What if floating buildings WERE normal? I laughed. “Alright, kiddo. Let’s go on and get your ice cream.”

And just like that, the spell was broken. “Aw come-on! I’m not a kid!” She whined. “Ugh, why do you have to be so weird!”

I laughed again, skipping along the beaten down sidewalk like the adult I was. “Being like everyone else is over-rated. Now come on! They’re closing soon!”

Her face paled and with one last look at the house, she darted off toward the ice cream shop. “Last one there is a rotten egg!” She called back.

I huffed out in amusement and looked back at the house, still balancing precariously on the roof. It really was convincing. I turned and followed slowly after cousin, letting my hand naturally drift to my ear. “You can turn it off now. Thank you, it worked splendidly.”

“Yes ma’am.” The voice cackled over my earpiece. And then, hesitantly, “May I ask… how was that helping with the war effort?”

“Yes, ask all you like. My answer will remain unknown to you however.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course ma’am. Good day.”

The earpiece turned off and I hummed, enjoying the simple moments. Watching people amble through the streets, and getting to prank my favorite little cousin. Ahh, such moments were truly a blessing.

Frigid waters splashed up her arms as she dipped her oar frantically into the torrents. Escaping by river hadn’t been her best plan ever, but it was still serving it’s purpose. She cast a quick look over her shoulder and confirmed the small motor boat coming after her. It was still gaining, but they had to be careful lest they tear the bottom of their boat against the rocks. She on the other hand was in a kayak - a valid and swift option for traversing the approaching rapids. She would probably survive, but they very well might not.

The first real roar of the water alerted her to the change of the river. She was going to escape, and they would sink. Knowing her great balance, she stood in her kayak and waved to her pursuers. “Better luck next time!” Laughter fell from her lips as she saw their horrified faces. They would either stop of be in peril. What she didn’t realize, was a rather unimpressed look following her every move.

Pain exploded in her arm and with a gasp, she fell. The waters grabbed at her, tugging her deeper in, probing at her new wound. She had been shot. The shock of her upcoming demise stilled her body from action. She was heading to the rapids without a vessel. She was going to die. With her eyes squeezed shut, the woman kicked out against the current and reach out, grasping onto whatever she could find. She found something, something warm.

Her eyes snapped open as she was suddenly pulled from the river. A man hung precariously from a fallen tree, helping her onto the trunk. “W-Who are you?” She sputtered, teeth chattering from the cold.

He raised an eyebrow, raking his eyes over her with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I’m part of the rescue team.”

“Rescue?” She looked him over. She’d never seen him before. Her eyes latched onto his hip, where a gun rested. “Wait, did you shoot me!” Fury sparked through her as realization hit her. She’d never seen her pursuers raise a gun.

His mouth twitched. “Maybe.”

“You-“

“No time for that.” He gave her a final yank, and she fell on the ground, her feet still in the freezing water. She lifted her face to glare at him, but he motioned to their pursuers and then pointed to the woods before them. “It’s your choice.” The man dashed into the woods, leaving her on the shore to choose her fate. But what was there to choose? She would not go to her pursuers, and swimming through the rapids would be suicidal. With a groan, she pushed herself onto her legs. She could run into the forest on her own, but she was wounded.

Her eyes slit. Her rescuer was likely not who he said he was. But she was freezing and the bullet might still be in her arm. With one last look at her pursuers, she followed the stranger into the forest.

Day 1

I guess it’s a bit awkward to be starting a journal now. At the time, it made sense to wait until I’d found and opened the passage. But now I realize the search was also part of the journey. And of course, when I opened the ancient door, do you really think I went back to camp to go find my journal? Of course I didn’t. What enthusiastic adventurer would? Thankfully, my less enthused scientific partner was willing to go back to camp to get it, and now I’m stuck sitting against these ancient halls as I try to record everything I’ve found. Does that even make sense? I mean… we do have cameras to record what we find. So maybe this journal was more for me than the adventure after all…

Day 3

I missed a day yesterday. It really wasn’t on the top of my priority list to write then. The main entrance shut. We’re trapped. The weird thing is, my partner doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact he was sure we could find another way out. He promised that the architectural structure seemed to be designed with more than one opening… but I don’t think he’s taken into consideration most of the other openings would likely be buried under trillions of grains of sand. Nonetheless, he assured me that if we just kept walking, we would make it out.

Day 4

He’s mad at me. I’m not quite sure why. I stopped to record some hieroglyphics on the wall and paint out some of the pictures. He immediately tore out the pages when I was done with them and shredded them. I don’t think I’ve ever been so infuriated in all my life. I screamed so hard that bits of sand fell from the ceiling. He immediately grabbed my hand and ran with me deeper into the place, stopping at an ancient fountain that still flowed with water… He made me promise then that I would not record anything. I refused of course. I’m an adventurer. I don’t go on adventures just to leave my findings in the dark.

Day ?

I’ve continued to record what we’ve found. My researcher friend doesn’t stop me anymore. He just watches sadly and shakes his head. I don’t know what his problem is. We have plenty of provisions. This place likely holds a multitude of tombs for the old Pharaohs that have yet to be found. I can’t wait to be the one who goes down in history for finding them! Most of the hieroglyphics seem to be about eternal life and the sacredness of the body after it’s death. Apparently if something happens to the body in this world, it also happens to them in the next. There’s also a lot of stuff in here about the jackal god Anubis. It seems according to these hieroglyphics that he might just be a human wearing a jackal headdress who had the ability to turn into a jackal. More than that he - never mind. My “partner” just woke up and is glaring at me. I should go.

Day ?

I understand now. My partner is not who he says he is. There’s something wrong with him, the way he moves, the way he speaks, and the gold trinkets he wears… I never noticed it until now, but he looks like he belongs here. Or maybe his appearance has changed the further we’ve come in… No. He’s just been looting this place behind my back. I bet he’s been looking for this place his whole life. He never planned on letting me out. He was always going to take the glory for himself. But I- Someone’s coming. I’m leaving now, and I’m taking this evidence back to the surface.

Final Entry

I’ve never seen the point of journals. Humans write in them to record their life and journey so that others can read them and know their story. But what of when their life, their journey, their accomplishments, are never read of by another human? Is it all for naught? I always wonder this when I take another life. I’m sorry Lyra. I swear I didn’t want to. I never do. But I protect the souls of Pharaohs and others of my people. I cannot allow you, nor anyone else, to bring harm to them. The world cannot know of our existence. I live to protect them, just as I will protect this last fragment of yours. I am sorry. - Anubis

The pen… it was crooked.

Miguel took in a shaky breath. He had five minutes. And then he had to hand in the essay. His cursive was scrawled sloppily across the page and he only had two paragraphs.

But… the pen…

It was crooked.

Miguel squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his coarse black curly hair. He could already hear his sweet Mother’s sigh and see the slow shake of his father’s head. He had failed them. Again.

No! A wild thought burst from his heart and he opened his eyes. He had not yet failed. He still had four minutes left. All he had to do, was not touch the pen. His pen scratched the surface of the paper once again, leaving a faded trail of gray in it’s wake as it slowly formed words as if discovering them for the first time. He could do this. He was doing this!

A shuffle of paper came from his left, and before he could stop himself, his eyes darted to the other student. Unlike him, the student had made much more progress on her essay, and had turned to the last blank page so she could finish her paper. But, as she began writing again on the stapled packet, he realized the page underneath was sticking out at an awkward angle. Miguel bit his lip and felt his hands twitch. All she had to do was straighten her papers, and they would align neatly and all would be well. All would be organized. But no.

“Two minutes.”

His heart erupted with panic and he turned back to his own pitiful paragraphs on the book they had read this weekend. He had done so well… all until he noticed that stupid pen! Miguel grit his teeth and fiddled with the pencil. He would finish a third paragraph. He would finish a third paragraph! He would -!

“Miguel?”

His thoughts scattered as he slowly lifted his head to the sharp eyes behind those deceptively softly curved glasses. A light frown graced her face and her arms were crossed. He opened his mouth like a fish, but no sound came out. With a raised eyebrow, she pointedly looked at the table. He followed her gaze expecting to see it on the paper, but instead it was on the pen… the pen that had somehow ended up in his hand.

He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. “Mam, I swear, I didn’t realize, I -“

“Miguel.” His mouth clamped shut as he looked back at her. She seemed tired. “How many times do I have to tell you that during a test or in-class essay, you need to keep your hands on your paper?”

“I-It was crooked.” The strangled message tumbled from his lips, eyes wide with despair. “Please, I’m sorry. I-“

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miguel. I’ve told you time and time again, that even if something isn’t in it’s proper order, you need to leave it. How will you be able to function in society if you can’t hold your concentration simply because something is crooked?” Miguel stared at her, his throat clenching and burning. She was right, he knew. But he couldn’t help it. Even now, he couldn’t help but want to reach up and tip her glasses so that they were perfectly centered on her face.

The teacher sighed. “Just try again next time Miguel. Grades aren’t everything. But… as you weren’t able to follow the rules… that will be another zero. I’ll be calling your parents to let them know.” She turned and walked away, calling to the other students to let them know that the time was up, and they should turn in their papers.

Miguel looked at his desk, now blurred from his failure. “Yes ma’m,” he whispered shakily.

Slowly, he extended his arm to the top of his desk, releasing the pen to fall into place next to his highlighter. Then, with one last look at his teacher, he straightened the pen.

The screeching of the creature’s metallic neck ruptured the battlefield, slicing through my helmet. My ears continued to throb.

“X-15, come in. Report.”

A muffled voice reverberated in my helmet, causing the lines in my suit to flash with blue as it connected with the System.

“Coming in C2. Advised to abort. This world is finished.”

The helmet cackled with silence as the earth trembled beneath me. I could hear the screams as my comrades fell in battle.

“C2?”

The gear cackled to life. “Continue onslaught. We aren’t leaving.”

A wave of icy fear crashed over me, the strength leaving me gasping, “Sir! If we continue, we -!” A click. And then the blue lights dashing through my blackened armor flickered out.

We were alone.

Some one screamed, this time in my unit. I turned in time to see the metal shard sticking through her body, and that’s when the explosion went off. To say I watched my comrade fall would be false. No. I watched as their bodies were torn apart with the force of the blow and shivered as I realized in horror that the droplets falling like a torrent of rain were blood.

We were not fighting a war. We were lining up for a massacre.

The beast wailed, a hellish red glow coming from it’s beak as it tossed back it’s head. Was there any way to defeat it?

I aimed my gun at the underside of its neck, imagining the reddish glow was from its own blood. I could hear more screams now… or were they mine? All I knew was that we would die. Run? Pointless. This world was dying. Die? Definitely. But how to die, that was the question.

“X-15!” My heart stopped, and my thrummed with cold. I couldn’t see his face. But I could hear the frenzy in his voice. Was he looking for me? Or did he already see me? Allowing this world to die was no longer an option. If the world died, he would die with it.

I swallowed, suddenly set on my path as I dashed behind a pathetic excuse of a barricade. There was only one thing that could turn the tide. And that was information.

“C2, come in.” The blue lights flashed from my suit again, faintly catching the eyes of the beast. Fear and anger raged through me. I would finish my mission at least. Then it could have me.

“X-15, report.”

“We need information.” No response. My suspicions confirmed, I issued my death sentence. “I’m going in. Will report later with needed information.”

“X-15, stand down! I repeat. Sta-!”

I shut off the communications and stood, slinging the large gun across my back. “X-15!” I heard his frantic cry behind me, but I could not falter. Not for him.

I charged.