The holder of realism mocked the gatekeeper of fantasy. They had a bet: which characters would break when tossed into different realities? They were gods, prideful and foolish. Zayden and Lora were the unlucky pawns in this twisted game. When a character is dropped into this world, you’d think it a good thing. But this is realism, and the truth is far more bitter.

A man accustomed to the cruelty of realism is tossed into a world of blissful fantasy, where everything seems better… too much better. He doesn’t belong there. His feeble mind can’t handle it.

Would the world affect him, or will his will to break free crack the foundations of both realities? And when the seams of possibility tear, Zayden and Lora find one another and join forces. Both worlds are about to face a threat far greater than they could imagine.

Run.

Hide.

It doesn’t matter—the world will soon fall apart. The power has long been stripped from the gatekeepers, and for the first time since the beginning of the worlds, the laws that bind everything are nonexistent.

The bets are up, and the stakes are higher than ever. This test the two reality keepers conducted might just break reality and fantasy… forever.

Santa Claus reminded me of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood. He could always find me, wherever I went—almost like he was waiting for me.

At every five-year interval at Christmas, I would get a doll. It was fun at first, till it wasn’t.

It was always the same doll: black hair, black empty unblinking eyes that stared at me, and a red hooded dress. It reminded me of litle red riding hood.

It came with a note: “Santa’s favorite.” It smelled like cherry candy.

By the time I was 15, I found the gift childish and embarrassing and decided to throw it away—all of them and any that came after.

At 20, failing at community college and working to keep a roof over my head, I dealt with nasty customers on waitressing duty. This particular one was the worst of all.

I stood with a strained smile on my face as she hurled insults about her order, and I’d had enough when she threw her piping hot soup at me and slapped me. I hit her back, quit, and called the cops on her.

Only when I was back home, shivering under my blanket with a broken heater and no money to fix it, did I dread losing that job.

Then came a creak from the floorboards, and I froze. I wasn’t alone.

I held my breath, terrified, but no sound came after. After a few minutes, I realized I wasn’t being attacked and dared to sit up.

I scanned my dark room, and my heart seized as I made out a shape.

I turned on the lamp and grabbed the nearest object, a paperweight. The ticking of my clock as it struck midnight was the only sound, along with my heavy breathing.

There was something on my bedroom floor—something covered in a red bag. I cautiously walked closer and opened it with shaky hands.

Black soulless eyes stared at me, and I jumped back in fright. There was a woman dead on my floor. It was the customer from today, and she had black hair and a red cape, caked in blood. A tape was over her mouth, and written in blood was: “Santa’s favorite.”

I forgot it was Christmas, and Santa had just delivered his gift.

Would you like to be Santa’s favorite?

There was no going back.There wasn’t another way.

The dead branches swayed their welcome. The old swing beside the mansion creaked woth each swing.

A couple of steps lead me further away from all that i knew.

A prompt decision taken to heart.

My soul burned with fear and excitement for the unknown.

The crows circling me seems to cheer for my foolishness.

For who would be calm in such unfortunate events.

But could i be blame. Those ran out of town always came here, they said.

The here with open cold arms.

And a creaky bony hand waved from the doorway of the foggy mansion grounds, as i walked into my demise.

A hand tapped on my shoulder, and I raised one side of my headphones. The heavy noise of whirring machinery cutting into dense metal assaulted my ears with a grating nerve. “They need you up at Sector Five.” My colleague, who had been working with me and other teams to disassemble the mysterious ship that crash-landed hours ago, patted my shoulder. With a heavy sigh, I checked that I was still strapped in well before climbing down. Immediately, someone else took my place tampering with the sides of the ship I was already on. I dodged men hauling heavy parts of innovative machinery—both destroyed and salvageable—as I walked into the tilted ship carefully, the snow making the metal ground slightly slippery.

As I moved closer to the roaring machinery, I put back my headphones. With little direction, I found my way to the command control station (Sector 5).

“What can I do for you?” I mumbled rubbing my brows in exhaustion. Our supervisor acknowledged my presence before sending me to work at the control panels. I was working on the command controls, testing which wires to disconnect and mend back. What inventions we could learn from when the noises began.

“What is he doing?” a doubtful, hoarse voice asked.

“Relax, he can’t understand it.”

“Have you tried speaking to him again?” “Yes!” another man bit back, frustrated.

“It’s obviously not working. A lot is at stake here. Try again!”

“Enough. Can I have a little room here?” I sighed raising the right ear, annoyed that their voices could still be heard over my headphones. It amazed me.

I turned back to find my commander with raised eyebrows, and a few of the several people around halted, staring at each other and then at me in turn.

Everyone seemed to be looking at me like I was the weird one. I furrowed my brows.

“Aha! Contact engaged—push forward!” Wait, what? The next thing I knew, a thundering sound and a heavy force pushed me back as the control panel exploded.

Darkness, muffled voices, and the vibration of footsteps rushing over to me. Light flickered behind my eyelids as my ears continued to ring.

“No. 18, are you okay!?” My body didn’t respond in time, but suddenly blinding pain made me wince.

Bright light from a torch filled my vision.

“He seems to have hit his head pretty hard,” I wanted to tell them to stop talking.

“Ha! Pathetic! That was enough to knock him out,” someone sneered in an eerie voice with delight.

“Silence. We seem to have just made contact with the only being who understands us.” My head pounded with force as I squinted up to see the supervisor and an emergency medic kneeling at my side. My eyes widened—not because of the beautiful female medic, but because right next to her was a gray-skinned, bony being with a large eye and a vertical mouth. Its white pupils, surrounded by eerie blackness, glowed.

Its vertical mouth opened to reveal rows of sharp, small teeth.

Its scratchy, gravelly voice reached my ears over my pounding heartbeat.

“Greetings, human. As the only existing contact with mankind, would you like to assist us in Mission CONVENANT?” Without waiting for me to reply or even process anything, its mouth widened, a labium sticking out, and a deep gooeyish green substance rushed into my mouth with great force.

What the actual—