Misentity Short Story Edition 2023

Editors: Koal Hohman, Jasmine Owens, Marissa Struhar

Misentity © is published annually by North Harford High School’s Creative Writing class.

All rights reserved to the author upon publication with the provision that Misentity received initial publication.

© 2023

Set to Burn Jasmine

Owens

I remember the day that he first showed up. The clock had its little arm on the eleven and the longer arm drifted past the five. I was late to church service, as usual, and in my rush, I ducked into the very back pew. I stared dully at the back of people’s heads…though, the chapel was always scantly occupied, and I never thought to look too hard. I pushed my legs out in front of me, stifling a yawn. I almost choked when I saw him. He was sitting just two pews in front of me, wearing a starched blue shirt. My eyes fixated on his unfamiliar dark-haired head for the rest of the sermon. Up until the closing hymn, I buzzed with strange excitement, eager for him toturn and let me see the rest of him.

Infact, I was watching him the way I should have been watching God.

§§§

The light is dim in the hallway. A green tint flows from the rusty exit light in the back. It sends strips of unholy light through his hair; I chase it with my fingers. We watch the light refract and ebb over each other’s skin.

§§§

My decision had been made. Now it was time to reconcile. I turned the handle to the door, stopping its revolution to press my forehead into the cool metal, painted red a long time ago and chipped away at, at a time closer to now. It must be done, I reasoned with myself, and I swung it open. It swung hard enough to smack the outside wall. I heard pieces of stucco fall to the sidewalk. As the evening dialed back into night, the church would be empty and so we chose this time to meet.

“Hey,” A soft voice murmured from inside. I let go of the door and closed it behind me, cutting off the raw February air.

Rather than flicking the light switch, I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dark and waited for his shape to develop like a polaroid photograph.

“Hey,” I replied. My lungs felt squeezed. It was a labor to talk. Even to him.

Especially to him.

“What did you want to talk about, Jodie?”

“You already know,” I said.

He heaved a heavy sigh and rose from the couch, making the cushions shift. He crossed the distance to the doorway where I stood.

“You’re leaving, then,”

“I am,” I replied tersely, jolting when he grabbed my arms with his clammy, cold hands. I could feel them even through the fabric of my sleeves. His fingers weren’t as strong as I remembered them to be before. He guided me towards him and rested his forehead against mine.

“I know you know that there’s something wrong,” he whispered. “But joining them isn’t the way to save the world,”

“Then what would you suggest?” I demanded. “I can’t hide and pray anymore!”

A look of bitter disgust washed across his face. There was debate behind his eyes; whether to leave me be or take me away somewhere.

“Have you not learned a thing in the sermons?” He asked finally. “Is it all going in one ear and out the other?”

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against his. When I leaned away, I touched him lightly over his chest. My fingers grazed the

pearly white buttons on his collared shirt. “How could I ever focus when there’s that?” His mouth contorted into a sneer. “And that’s the reason you’re going?”

“You know why,” I argued, though my voice was beginning to fall flat, wavering at the crest of my words.

“You’ve told me, but I still don’t understand,” he shook his head. There was a look of tragedy painted across his angular face. It bludgeoned my resolve.

“I have to go where I’m needed, Tim, people need me,”

“And what about me? I need you, more than those ‘people’,” his voice was pleading, on the verge of desperation. “You’re going end up dead, it’s dangerous,”

“I’ll be wasted if I stay,” I countered.I knew that my reasons were just, I knew this was necessary. Yet, with every word he said to me, I was becoming less sure of myself. More wistful of the life with him. Oh, how easy it would be to give in to him. My throat burned and a pulse in my stomach began to pound. “You’ve seen the violence, the shootings, the twisted idols that people worship, and you know that this is the risk anyone takes,”

“I keep hearing about what you think I know, and still, I feel like you’ve blind sighted me,” A wave of anger broiled through me. “This isn’t about you! This isn’t even about me anymore, it’s for the greater good!”

“God, can you hear yourself? You sound like some crazed revolutionist come on, ‘the greater good?’ What did those recruiters sell you? What have you sold to them? Your eternal soul?”

I opened my mouth to shout back at him; the hush of a sanctuary had long been perturbed, but the door behind us opened again, giving

way to a familiar face. It was a woman from the church, an elder: Mrs. Conohay. She was dressed in a sharp red trench coat and a well-to-do white hat adorned with gaudy rhinestones. My eyes caught on them and stayed captivated by their silvery gleam. In addition to all this, she wore the sheepish expression one does when coming upon a confrontation such as this.

“Jodie,” she paused, frowning. “Timothy,” she concluded. Beside me, Tim swallowed his anger and smiled politely. “Ma’am.”

After a too-long moment of us all staring at one another blankly, she recollected herself and pointed at the stairs leading to the sanctuary. By way of explanation she added, “I’m only here to say a quick prayer,”

I waited until her footsteps faded against the padded carpet of the upstairs. I turned back to Tim. “I’m sorry this has to end this way,”

“Not as sorry as I am,” he said in a single breath, turning his back to me. I left before I had a chance to say a prayer of my own; it was time for me to get out.

§§§

The tissue caught fire nicely. Until it turned to black ash. I repeated the sequence, pulling my hands back as the flames flickered with a smug hiss.

“What happens if I have to blow my nose?” A voice behind me asked. It was my partner, Mavis Beil, who was leaning hard in an old office chair.

“Snuffle it back up,” I suggested savagely.

I was in need of a distraction all day. It was merely convenient carelessness that the team before us left a box of matches in their wake, leaving me to discover the allure of fire.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Mavis muttered and spun her chair back around to

face her laptop. I watched her for a moment, observing that the sunlight was no longer contouring her raven black hair. Night was soon to be upon us. We had been there since lunch, waiting to intercept a transmission from a terror group. The word was that they were planning to raid an archive building and it was our job to help stop them. The group called for the complete damnation of America so that it could rise again from the grave. Phoenix from the ash.

My hands itched for some kind of mindless occupation, but I felt that the matches were past overdone. To be honest, I was losing my mind. The quarters were close, they were dusty, and nothing was happening. Nothing happened all week. I sat at the table without moving, and as though my was restlessness contagious, Mavis shot up from her chair and announced that she was going to go check on our microphones.

“Let me go with you,” I begged. She clicked on her flashlight and shined it on her equipment belt, where her weapon was holstered. She patted a hand atop it. I could see her crooked grin in the castoff light.

“You need to keep your attention on comms,” she said. “It’s just gonna be me and my gun this time,” I rolled my eyes but didn’t push further. “Have fun,” I called as she stalked out the door. For several minutes the only thing in my mind was the awareness of silence. The kind of silence that resonates through your whole head, buzzing, because it’s never supposed to be that empty. I bit down hard on my bottom lip and hunched over. A chill danced through me, all the way to my furrowed brows against my steepled fingers. It was the ghost of a memory, an assailant running me down. A small voice told me I should be praying. I was on the verge when a bigger voice broke in from the monitor.

“ … moving in now.”

“Watch your six, we can’t do it for you once you’re inside,”

“Got it,”

I scrambled from my position and grabbed my walkie talkie.

“This is Agent Jodie Barnes, I have confirmation on their movement, this is going down now,”

My palms turned itchy with anticipation, but the walkie remained voiceless and crackly. “Beil?” I called through my earpiece. “Beil, you should be back by now,” I clicked the two way radio again but still no response. Every station I tuned into was the same way. I alternated between the radio and my earpiece until I couldn’t stand it any longer. The operation was slipping. The thought sent gooseflesh to the surface of my arms. Before I removed my gun from its holster, I sucked in a deep breath and forced my exhale to remain constant, slow. I needed focus. Once this was done, I checked the magazine of bullets and patted at the extras still in my belt.

The archives building was across the street and four buildings down from the apartment we’d been staked out in. I pulled the bolt from the door and entered the hall, gun first. The air was muggy, worse than in the room, and blanketed every surface. From the room to the hall, that silent static built up until it was nearly unbearable. Something warm and wet clamped around my ankle. I screamed and someone growled at me. A blinding ball of light flashed in my face; I shielded my eyes reflexively.

It was Mavis, propped against the flaky wall. There was a growing pool of dark substance surrounding her consuming her.

“Oh, my Go ,”

“They don’t know about you yet,” She rasped. “Get out of here,”

I dropped down beside her and used my hand to cradle her head. The flashlight withered in her grip and fell, illuminating the blood that painted the floor. Her dark blue eyes still gleamed with purpose, however. They stifled any argument I could make against her demands.

“Where did they go?” I asked, resigning to a dying woman.

“The one who stabbed me disappeared down the street archives direction, the other chased me into the building and he’s still here, Jodie, get out and get to the archives. They must have taken out the other surveillance teams because none of them are answering me,”

“I’ll call help,” I said. She hit me with sudden strength and snarled, “No. Time.” As if to prove her point, I heard heavy footfalls in the nearby stairwell. They grew louder and labored breaths accompanied them, wheezing in and out.

“Mavis…” I could feel the tears in my eyes. I could see them in hers too. Her face was caked in both blood and the grime that coated everything around us, like this place was taking her entirely. I knew that under it, she had freckles. Under it she had lines carved into her cheeks from equal parts frowning and smiling. Under it her skin was a rich brown, but pale now with mortality She swallowed faintly. Then she clicked off the light.

I wanted to move louder than the sounds of her screams. I wanted to move fast enough to beat the godawful static that came back. I moved through the flights of stairs until they became endless spirals, circling around and around and around, until I hit ground level, out the door.

The thick city atmosphere was grievous respite after being holed up for hours. Somehow, between the time it took for me to find Mavis and get out here, the traffic outsidepicked up and it was deafening. Cars screamed past me. Their speed whipped my hair over my eyes. It was another spiral I had to race through. A blue bus with yellow lettering on the siding jostled down the street. It stuttered onto the curb and broke through to me with its guttural scraping and I was running again.

The archives building was pitch black and utterly unalive against the glimmer of the city. I was running every bit as much as I was fleeing, and I didn’t even look when I plunged myself into the road. I didn’t even wince at the percussive anger from drivers double tapping their horns. When I reached the building, the front doors were hanging wideopen. I reached for my weapon, only to find an empty holster. I shut my eyes and forced a sob back down my throat. When I reopened them, I concluded that it must’ve dropped in the hallway where I… Go.

It was that voice again. Instead of being nondescript, this time it took on the cadence of my dead partner. I crossed the open threshold with a tense jaw. Right away, the sweet smell of gasoline assaulted my nose. I was relieved to find that I still had my flashlight and used it to see that the floors were slick with the accelerant, the walls as well. Above me, there was a soft commotion, and I killed the light. Everywhere I went, it seemed, it was hard to breathe and so I moved deliberately, making an effort to not exert myself. Vague silhouettes revealed themselves to me, allowing me to find the heavy metal door that led to the stairs. The gas was thin in the space beyond the door. I drank this air like there would be no more after this. This was when something smacked into my back and

threw me to the floor. My head impacted last and most painfully. There wasn’t enough time for me to cry out. I blinked slowly. Everything felt as though I were submerged. I felt a hand slip below my stomach and haul me up. I was spun around, and a fist jammed into the soft part of my lower belly. My breath hissed out through my teeth and my body jerked backwards. My assailant held me in place, however, and I waited for the onslaught to begin. It never happened. They were taking me elsewhere, hooking their arms under my armpits and taking the stairs at an impressive, albeit labored, pace. I wondered mutely if this was what it was like to be dead weight.

We stopped our ascent, and I heard another door groan open. My ankles hitched on the raised panel of the doorframe. It was a man’s voice that cursed before shuffling my legs over it. My stomach lurched

“T-Tim?” I croaked. He stopped and rested me against a wall. I felt gasoline seep onto my back. I pressed into it, unable to move any other way. I could see him now. He looked different, but in all the ways that counted, he was the same. His black hair was shaved close to thescalp. It looked tobe a recent cut. He never let it unfurl past his ears, and his searching blue eyes were intense against mine. But he did just punch me and drag me up the stairs in a building bathed in gasoline, set to burn. In more ways that counted, I didn’t know him. “I thought you would have left the country by now,” I said. He’d told me this much back when he still took my calls, he wanted to travel Europe for a while.

“I have,” he responded swiftly and harshly. “And America left me and so did God and so did you.”

“You’re one of them,” I gasped, finally realizing. It made me cough so hard I felt my lungs rattle. Tim raised his thick

eyebrows and bowed his head once in a curt nod. He looked so sinister, clad in all black, which his trim build filled nicely. He shifted his weight from his feet to his knees and came close to me.

I remembered reading Their manifesto. Their calls for complete damnation sounded so foolish to me, I laughed. I asked Mavis once if she’d ever anything quite as ridiculous. Now, as I smelled the fuel that clung to his skin, it was all so real. Tim was the embodiment of Hell and every alluring sin I had ever committed.

“I need to get you out of here,” he muttered. I had the suddenwish to go to bed and wake up from this dream in the morning. He grabbed my arm as to pull me up. I yanked my arm back. “Don’t take me anywhere,” I spat. “I’m shutting this down.” Tim’s voice was laced with warning as he said, “Jodie, don’t do this,”

“You’ve crossed the line.” I tried to match his tone. At this, his head fell slightly and as it slipped, I caught a glimpse of shame on his face. With a hand, he scrubbed his gaunt cheeks. He looked starved.

“The line was crossed a long time ago,” he said, raising his head. His eyes didn’t quite meet mine; they were focused on the wall behind me. The darkness of the hall reminded me of a past life. A life where we would have taken each other by the arms, by the lips and would have kept taking until there was nothing left to give. I knew what I had to do, but this was Tim. He reached back behind him, and I heard the familiar clank of metal as it brushed against his coat zipper. I knew immediately what it was.

“Let me take you in, Tim, please, I can save you, let me!” I pled. He twisted a cylindrical silencer into the barrel of the gun. He ordered for me to get up. There was no other choice for me but to listen. I stood and he pressed his open hand into my back, steering

me through the corridor. “You know,” he began, “I stayed in the church for a while. I waited for you to come back. While I did, I paid tithe, I washed the feet of my brothers, I ate the bodyand theblood of Christ. But as much as I prayed for you, Jodie, I never got you back,”

“So, your next logical step was to join a death to America group.” I scoffed. His hand pressed me harder. “It wasn’t about America; it was about putting my faith in something stronger, something I could give to and receive just as much.” He explained.

“This group has given all that to you?” I asked quietly.

“That and more,” he agreed. The certainty he expressed was chilling. “But you have me again, now I’m back,” my voice cracked. I felt his hand ball into a fist against my spine. As fast as my achy body allowed for, enough to catchhim off guard,I spun toface him. My eyes tracked how his finger was balanced atop the thin trigger. “Tim, what’s the point of all this?” His finger twitched. I held my breath. “This building holds proof of the past, horrible things this country has done and all that it’s doing now. Once it’s gone, we can start again.”

We can start again.

My eyes welled up. I made a fist of my own and shoved it into his chest, right over his heart. “You used to love me.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, said nothing. We were close enough for me to feel his exhale dance across my cheeks. “Stop.” He said, but his words were small, the utterance of a boy, far less than a man.

“Let’s stop this, together,” I tried to reason with him. But his eyes popped open, and he continued to push me all the way to a large office walled in glass, granting a wide view of the unassuming city. He took us through

the entryway and shut the door behind us. I could hear the low din of a computer monitor below the sturdy office desk. A heavy sense of finality calcified in my bones. My back stiffened because here, it would come to an end.

“Jodie, I’m so sorry.” Tim whispered.

§§§

I remember the interruption in the air when it parted for the bullet. The eerie hollow snick of his finger pulling against the trigger. I could smell thecordite dancingthrough the atmosphere, and I could smell how he used to smell in my memory. How he used to smell in my arms. As the air broke, I felt a crumpling feeling of collapse. I’m certain the building felt it too. It was akin to the tides that must have shifted for Moses’s staff.I was on one side of the water and Tim was on the other.

People tell me that my side is the righteous side. My private response to that remains that I don’t know. They tell me that I’m a hero, that I stopped an act of terror, an act of evil. I’ll shake your hand if you tell me that. I’ll smile placatingly, even, if it so pleases you.

I know it was Tim who killed Mavis. It was his fingerprints on the knife. But it was me who left her to die. I know it was Tim who set that building to burn, along with parts of history. I know it was me who stopped him, who pinched the wick he constructed. But it was me who left him a long time ago. I know it was Tim who turned the gun on himself. But who put that gun in his hands?

Never Ending Nightmare

By Luke Brown

Chapter One Dylan

Over the roar of the R-3350 engines, Dylan could see through his pair of binoculars his best friend, Wyatt in another B-29 waving through a tiny window in the side of the plane. Wyatt then points toward the cockpit of his plane adamantly, Dylan moves slowly and then hovers over the cockpit hesitantly, and realizes without wanting to, that the person flying Wyatt's plane was none other than his fiancées ex-boyfriend.

"Great!" He said, as he stilled the locket swinging from the altimeter toggle.

"What's that?" his buddy Tom said, as he came over to Dylan's side with a big grin on his face. "Is it trouble?"

"No Tom, it's just Henry flying one of the other bombers,"

"Oh yeah? Lemme see," Dylan handed the binoculars to Tom, Tom almost snatched them out of his hands.

"HAHA!!" he laughed turning his face turning slow to look at Dylan, "Ain't that a major load of monkey s***,"

"Yeah, no kidding, I thought he was demoted,"

"Yeah, well I guess he kissed one of the brass's asses and got reinstated," with a sigh Tom handed Dylan his binoculars and walked toward the back of the plane.

"Come on Dylan, don't worry about his dumbass,"

"Alright," with one last look outsidethewindow of the plane, Dylan walked back into the plane. Despite wanting to look at Henry with hatred through the small reticles of his binoculars.

"Check the rigging on that side while you're at it, will ya?" expressed Tom with a nod toward the starboard side of the bomb.

"Hey guys!" shouted the pilot.

"We're coming John!" said Tom as he made his way up toward the cockpit. Dylan finished checking the rigging on the bomb and made his way toward the cockpit as well. He pulled himself into the cockpit as John and Tom were horsing around.

"Guys, no one wants to know about this s*** right now," Dylan said, Tom turned to look at him with a smirk on his face.

"Just because you've never…loved somebody, don' mean we can't talk 'bout it." Tom said.

"How do you know that, and that I just don't want to talk about that when there are more important things to address?" he said back.

"Uh, because I said so," Tom said swinging into his face and then back with the same smirk.

"Tom is a Know-it-all, alright," John said "He knows the rhythm,"

"Aww shut up George," Tom said to the co-pilot as he snorted

"I didn't hear 'im deny it though," George said, as they all started laughing

"Yeah, whatever you dumb f*****s,"

"True though," Dylan laughed.

"When will we arrive to the dropping point?" Tom asked George "Uh "

"About thirty-minutes." said John

"Damn it John, did he ask you or me?"

"Well personally, since you ask, I believe that the person who has actually done all of the calculations, would actually know what the "

"Ahh shut your yap, John, I did the calculations too,"

"Yeah, but I guess just not as good as John did," said Dylan as he and Tom watched the two argue. Tom with a fake stern face said as he was tapping his fingers together.

"I did the calculations too George, I am the master of time, and I was only assessing you to see how you would react to the cockiness of Mr. John over here,"

"Ahh whatever, screw you Tom,"

"HAHA!" Tom laughed as he started walking back to his turret, out of nowhere turbulence started kicking in.

"Goddammit! John can you f****** FLY!!" Tom yelled as he collapsed to the floor of the plane.

"I'm trying man!!" John shouted back, "I have no idea where this storm came from,"

"Storm?!" Dylan said, as he tried desperately to grab his locket from the altimeter, "Where!?"

"Look out the goshdang window Dylan!" George said, as he and John scrambled to get a proper hold on the joysticks.

"My God," said Dylan, "Turn the F*** AROUND!! WE'RE HEADING RIGHT TOWARD A " BOOOOOM!!!

Two of the engines started to catch on fire.

"Oh s***!!" they yelled as the plane started to lose altitude

"Oh f***!" yelled Dylan as he started to almost go weightless, trying to snatch his locket that almost hovered, taunting him, he grabbed a hold of it as John yelled

"GEORGE!! WE GOTTA PULL UP MAN!!!"

"I'M TRYIN' JOHN!!"

"UP, UP UP UP UP UP---" the last thing Dylan saw was his fiancées face in the locket before everything went dark.

Chapter Two

Dylan

"LIZ!!!" Dylan woke up. Gasping for air, drenched in sweat. He slumped back down into his pillows, and remembered She's gone, He moved the sheets off his legs to reveal fading scars, as he got up slowly and bent over, closing his eyes only to see his dead friend's faces. Open, he opened his eyes, looked around the room at the empty liquor bottles on his dresser, he looked over at his nightstand, and saw a familiar locket with an old photo in it, not worth remembering. He grabbed it, slowly brought it to his face, and sobbed. He threw it across the room. Get up Dylan, time to get a move on, bud.

"I know, I know," he rubbed his face, got up and walked over to his dresser with all the empty bottles atopit and swept them into a trash bag. He threw on his clothes he had hanging up, his veteran hat, adjusting himself in the mirror above his dresser, looking through bloodshot eyes. Then he went to the kitchen to get some breakfast.

" President Johnson has ordered the Air Force, and Navy forward, in operation Rolling Thunder to bomb strategic points against the Viet Cong, as he hopes to resolve the conflict in Vietnam," Turn this B.S off Dylan. This is pissing me off. Dylan cut the TV and walked over to the front door, grabbing his coat and keys off their respectable hooks. Gotta keep 'em on their own, or they're liable to have fun with each other.

"Okay Tom," Dylan muttered as he walked out his door.

"Mornin' to ya, Mr. Madison!" Someone called.

"Mornin' Charlie!!" Dylan replied with a short wave as he locked his three deadbolts.

"Need anything, Mr. Madison?!"

"No, Charlie" he shook his head walking down the sidewalk toward his truck

"Ya sure, Mr. Madison?! I'd be happy to hel "

"No! Charlie," Dylan said as he unlocked his truck, "I don't need anything at all, if I do, I'll be more than happy to let you help," he said with a sarcastic smile.

"Alrighty then Mr. Madison, you have a great day then," Charlie beamed. waving back at him. HA! Hippies. Gotta love 'em, right Dill?

"Yep Tom, definitely," he said as he got into his truck, turning the ignition to hear his Ford pickup's 136 cubic-inch in-line six-cylinder with a 2.6-inch bore and 3.2-inch stroke with a compression ratio that's 6.6-to-1 developing sixty horsepower and ninety-four foot-pounds of torque. you don't need to bother me with the details, now do ya? "No, Tom, I don't,"

He walks into the psychiatrist’s office and waits until it is his turn to go in.

“Mr. Madison?” the receptionist called.

“Coming,” Dylan walked into the doctor’s office, and leveled a look at Kurt as he sat down.

“How are we doing today, Dylan?”

“The usual, Kurt,”

“Same nightmares?”

Dylan sighs. “Yeah,”

“Okay, any ringing of the ears lately?”

“Sometimes, if I focus enough, I can make it quiet down…but it never goes away,”

“Okay, have we had any stressful situations lately, anything that would cause the nightmares…. or?” He prompted.

“No, Kurt, just the usual routine.”

“Okay, have you talked to the kids at all?”

“No,”

“Okay, any reason why?”

“Just haven’t had the chance to. Been busy as I said. Working on the Truck,”

“Okay, that’s good, getting something to focus on is good. Have you watched the news lately?”

“I did this morning, just a bunch of bull, you know,”

“I hear ya, have you talked to Elizabeth? Or ”

“No don’t want to,”

“Okay, have you given any thought as to why?”

“No, and I don’t want to,”

“Alright. Have you talked to your folks recently?”

“Yeah, I did a few days ago. They talked about wanting me to go up Thursday, get out to the farm for a little while.”

“Okay, and have you given any thought?”

“Yeah, I decided it was a good idea,”

“Okay, let's schedule your next visit, shall we? Say, December nineteenth?”

“Yeah, my dad was talking about getting me out to shoot, so… ”

“Good, get to have a little fun while you’re there.”

“Yep,”

“I just do not believe in the whole… spending money, type thing. I mean people tell me it’s about celebrating the birth of Christ, but if you look at Christmas through a historical standpoint. Christmas is a Pagan religious holiday. I’m not Pagan. “visit, shall we? Say, December nineteenth?”

“That’s a little too close to Christmas, don’t you think?”

“Oh, of course. I do celebrate the birth of Christ, but I don’t need to buy people a bunch of things they are not going to use in a few years to do so.”

“Really? Why?”

“I just don’t believe in the whole… spending money, type thing. I mean people tell me it’s about celebrating the birth of Christ, but if you look at Christmas through a historical standpoint. Christmas is a Pagan religious holiday. I’m not Pagan.”

“Alright, I see your point. Do you at least go to church?”

“You too Dylan,” They shake hands and Dylan walks out of the office and out to his truck. He pulls out of his spot and starts out onto the road. As he accelerates, a flash of a car rams into the passenger side of the truck, wrenching Dylan to the side before he is knocked out.

“Okay, just put me in for January fourth, will ya?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me, I’m free for that day.”

“Alrighty then, you have a good day Kurt,”

“You too Dylan,” They shake hands and Dylan walks out of the office and out to his truck. He pulls out of his spot and starts out onto the road. As he accelerates, a flash of a car roars into the passenger side of the truck, wrenching Dylan to the side before he is knocked out. Chapter

Three

“Dylan!! Wake up dang it, we got to get out of here!!” Tom yelled as he slapped him across the left side of his face,Dylan gets up, and moves toward a broken turret on theside of the plane to lean on,

“How did the bomb not go off!?” He said to Tom as he made his way out into a jungle, “Where are we?” He asked,

“We crashed Dill,” Tom said, as he hopped out of the plane.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” He responded, as he looked around seeing the sun shining through the tree canopy.

“We crashed on the God forsaken island dude,” Tom said, as he walked around the plane getting supplies.

“What Island? What plane?” Dylan said, “You’re dead, Tom,”

“HA! You really bumped your head, didn’t you?” He said, “You’ve been mumbling like crazy in your sleep man, talking about Christmas, and about Liz like she dumped you or something,”

“What are you talking about? This is just another nightmare,”

“HA! I wish bud, I really do, but we have bigger fish to fry than nightmares bud,” Tom said walking closer to Dylan, “Dill, we are stuck on a damn Island that is out to get us. We are screwed!! And you’re here talking like this is a DREAM!! Wake the hell up, gather some supplies from the wreck, and get back to me will ya? John! What's going on?!”

“Wyatt’s gathering some of the straps! He thinks we will be able to use them!”

“Alright!” Tom yelled back. “Go get some supplies Dylan,” he said, Dylan started walking toward the wreck but stopped,

“Wyatt’s here too?” he said. He is really messed up, isn’t he? Tom thought to himself as he started salvaging various parts from the plane. All this nonsense about nightmares, I tell ya, this man is gonna go crazy.

“Where is my locket?!” Dylan yelled, “John have you seen it?! That is what must be the trigger to this!” He demanded John,

“You on something Dill?” He responded to Dylan, as he walked toward him,

“It’s in your hand, for Pete’s sake,” he told him, nodding toward his clenched hand.

“Oh, thank God! Thank you, John!” Dylan said, as he opened the locket to look inside it. Nothing happened, as Dylan started panicking, Tom walked toward him,

“Have we got a problem here Dill?” he said a little sarcastically, this guy is gonna need some serious help when we get back to the states. Tom turned around as he heard a loud engine only to for a car hit him.

Chapter Four Tom

“No!!” Tom said, as he fell beside his bed,

“Babe, are you alright?” Grace said, as she moved shot up from her sleep, “What’s wrong?” she said as she moved toward his side of the bed and looked over it.

“Nothing hon, just stupid dreams,” Tom said as he got up from the floor, “Come here,” Grace said, as she sat on the edge of the bed in front of him and patted the bed next to her. Tom sat and waited for Grace to ask.

“What was the dream about?” she said, looking at him.

“When me and the boys got stuck on that Island,” he said, watching her hand as she rested it on top of his.

“Was there anything weird about this dream in particular? Come on, I know that look Tom, it means you are thinking about something. What is it?”

“I think Dylan is in trouble,” he said, looking up into her eyes, “I can’t explain it, but when he was knocked out this time, instead of him waking up and doing what he did back then, he remained knocked out, and was talking about crazy things. Such as Christmas, which just passed, as well as Elizabeth, and you know what happened between them Which, neither one of these things he did in my past dreams. Then on top of that, I died from a car. That came out of nowhere.” He said, almost running out of breath.

“Well,” Grace said, “That is, disturbing to say the least.”

“What do you think I should do about it?” he said, “Do you think I should visit him?”

“Hon you dowhat you need to do,I’m already booked taking care of thekids, and plus, if you really feel the need to see him, then do it. Your gut feelings have always been right. More or less,” she said with a smile, nudging him with her elbow,

“I’ll pay a visit to the old friend then,” he said nudging her back with his elbow, “I’ll be back before five, okay?” he said as he got up to get dressed.

“A kiss as payment for your personal shrink?”

“Ah, almost forgot,” he said with a chuckle as he leaned down to give Grace a kiss, “I love you sweetheart,” he said to her,

“I love you too,” she said smiling.

Demon Adventure

Matthew White

As the bell rang to indicate the start of a new day, Dunstan made secret eyes at the back of Dee’s ponytailed head and ached with unrequited longing. He was a hybrid hellfire dragon-elf. He was sent into the woods to be killed, but the monsters were making it hard. They were speaking the infernal language which Dunstan knew. They were angry at the Elves for some reason, and they were after Dunstan who, in cuffs, was trying his best to hold them off. Then somehow the cuffs melted. He pulled his hands free and attacked. He bit one of the monsters and shook it in the air then let it go so it got damaged from hitting a tree. He did this to all of them. as soon as the last one died, he asked “Going to cuff me again?” Matthew the executor did not want to kill Dunstan for he had just saved their lives. Meanwhile, Dee wanted him dead. Matthew said, “Maybe we can go back and warn the others there might be more coming.” Dee disagrees. Matthew and Dee get into an argument when the city’s warning bell rings. The argument ends and everyone rushes to the city. As soon as the gates come into sight, they can tell that the city is under attack. Matthew grabs his ax from his pack while Dee takes out her sword. Dunstan summons his demon blade and gets to work. He shouts his infernal battle cry. The monsters turn as Dunstan cut thru a monster. The monster screamed then disintegrated. About half the monsters charged them but Matthew started spinning like a tornado and Dee swung her sword with all her might. So, Dunstan cast a spell that cause massive damage to demons or those controlled by demons or allied with demons. As soon as the spell was cast, he felt weaker. With his hellfire genetics he knew that some of his energy would leave him but not all. He then charges the monsters cutting them down until none remand on the ground, however he saw that some had

climbed up the wall, so he followed turning his fingers into claws. He climbed with relative ease throwing monsters off as he went till, he reached the top. There the guards were fighting monsters, so Dunstan bit the nearest one and threw it down. He then started to tear apart the monsters till none remained. Then he looked out at the city and saw that water was producing monsters. It was the sight of chaos, so he took off his shirt and grew his wings. He jumped off the wall and flew to the center of the action. He started slicing the water monsters but to no avail. Then he used more of the demon weakening magic and then attacked. The monsters became more solid, and they dissolved into puddles. Then the earth shook, Dunstan whispered “Here It comes. A tunneler.” He knew this beast’s species; he had faced one of them before on his sixteenth birthday. They were created by demons for fun and war. Suddenly the ground opened and out came a tunneler. It was bigger and nastier than the one he faced at 16 but he knew he could defeat it. He had done it before; he could do it again. They were known for being dumb, Dunstan thought. Then the beast charged directly at him. He dodged and cut the beast’s hide. The tunneler roared in pain but Dunstan stabbed the beast in the heart killing it instantly. The beast fell and breathed its last breath. Then a blue demon girl appeared and started to scream at Dunstan. Matthew walks up to her and scolds her for the attack, but the demon girl claims that she only created the water monsters to help but everyone keeps running from them. Then Matthew apologizes and say’s “This is my girlfriend Victoria, but she prefers Tori.” She apologized for her actions, but Dunstan apologized for destroys the water monsters saying, “It takes a lot of power to summon that many creatures, you should be proud.” Tori beamed with pride and said, “I have plenty of energy for being just 17.” Dunstan’s mouth drops open “Y-yyour 17” he said. Tori nods, and Dunstan know that she is the one that was taken at birth. The demon who was pronounced dead. He asked about her heritage. Tori does not know. except that

she is special. So, Dunstan shows her the scroll that tells him that the taken demon has been found and he is under strict orders to return her to her family. However, Tori did not want to go without Matthew, but Matthew needed to pack for the journey. They went to Matthew’s home in the middle of the city in the inn for the city police force. They run into Dee who, seeing Matthew stuff on his back, ask were they are going. Dunstan reply’s “My home.” Dee says that they should take someone for protection. Dunstan is not happy for they were losing daylight but agrees to let Dee join them. They then leave the city by 4:00 PM. The sun went down at 6:00 PM. Dunstan stops about four miles away from their destination for camp. He goes and grabs some firewood he hid nearby and tells them of their destination. “Up this mountain there is a portal that leads to my father’s estate only known by the hellfire dragons and him… I miss him already but, before you ask, no, he is not dead it is just my first mission in this world.” They are talking when a hellhound pounces on Dunstan. Tori screams and Matthew jumps up, Dee grabs her sword and points it at the beast. Dunstan rolls over and the hellhound start to lick him to death. Dunstan shouts “OFF” the hellhound obeyed and got off but, it stared at Dee like he wanted to kill her. Dunstan told Dee to drop the sword, or his hellhound would not be nice. She puts it away and Dunstan ask Tori for a piece of her skin. She grabs a piece of her skin and hands it to him he grabs the hellhounds collar and the bag attached and placed the skin inside the bag then he whispers to the hellhound, and it runs off into the night. Then Dunstan says, “Time to go to bed.” So, they start for bed. The next morning, they begin the climb to the top of the cliff. At the top they walk a few feet into a giant cave in the cave there were treasure galore. They then see a group of golems near a large arch. Dunstan moves towards the golems. They let them thru and a golem presses a button on the arch. Suddenly the arch begins to glow and then a gateway opens. Matthew is curious so he asks, “Were does it led to?” Dunstan says, “The demon realm.”

Matthew is scared but walk’s thru anyway with Tori holding his hand. Then Dee follows with Dunstan right behind. As Dunstan walked into his dad’s treasure room, he was tackled by his pet demon Spinosaurus. Dunstan petted the Spinosaurus and told the others to follow him. The Spinosaurus walked right next to Dunstan as he walked to his father’s room where his father was waiting for him. The hellhound, Doom had followed orders and had made it home safely. His father had sent Doom to the castle to tell the demon king and queen. He walked into the room his father’s giant head turning in his direction letting out a puff of hellfire smoke which smelled like bug cotton candy. He brings the others out and his father is taken aback by the elves in his home he yells at Dunstan but, Spine the Spinosaurus growls at Dunstan’s father. So, Dunstan’s father lets them go under the concision that Dunstan return by the end of the party and give a full report of his adventure to the other side. Before they could leave Dunstan’s mother appeared and tried to convince them to stay but Dunstan insist, they keep moving so they say goodbye and walk away when Dunstan loses sight of Matthew. He goes looking for him and finds him wielding a new ax called Deathbringer. Dunstan gasp as only the true demon king could weald it. Matthew must have a demon heritage. Matthew turned and his eyes were as red as blood. he lifted the ax and tried to kill Dunstan, but Tori yelled at Matthew witch free’s him from the weapons spell. Matthew drops the weapon and ask what it just did. Dunstan explains that the weapon would only be used by the true demon king, but no one had been able to pick it up which led to the theory that the first demon king had a second family with an elf or other, but everyone was thinking it was an elf. He now suspects that the rumors were true. He bowed before Matthew and pledged his service to him. Dunstan now tells them they must move to when Dee says she wishes to return home. So, Dunstan walked to the portal and opened it to let her thru the gateway. Then Dunstan led them to the mouth of the giant cave where they go there first look at the demon

realm. The sound of churning magma and screams of birds fill the air. The castle was at the bottom of the mountain in the demon’s largest city. Dunstan brushed his hair back with his hand and started to walk the trail. The others followed. At the bottom of the mountain Spine was waiting for them. Spine led them to the city were the guards opened the gates when he told them in infernal language that he had the king’s daughter but as soon as they entered the city when a giant demon bird grabbed Tori in its talons and flew to the east side of the city. Matthew yells at Dunstan for not doing anything but Dunstan told him that that bird belonged to the demon lord named Doomsday. Dunstan goes to a nearby stand and pay for a pill that he gives to Matthew. He then leads Matthew to Doomsday’s castle were Dunstan melts the gate with his hellfire breath weapon. The guards rush at him and Matthew but Dunstan cut off their heads and Matthew cut others in half with Deathbringer. Soon they reach the main hall Dunstan kicks down the door breaking it off its hinges. He sees that Doomsday is about to kill Tori, so he rushes in with his blade ready to kill. He blocks the blow to Tori and attacks but soon finds himself losing he can’t even land a blow then he feels cold metal pierce his heart. he gasps. then Matthew’s powers awaken. the pill Dunstan had given him had finally kicked in. Matthew decapitated Doomsday with Deathbringer and ran to wake Tori. He wakes her and then realizes Dunstan is gravely injured. He rushes over and pulls out the blade, but he was too late. Dunstan was dead, but Matthew felt something happening inside him. He sends some of his energy into Dunstan. The wounds heal and Dunstan wakes up. Matthew hugs him and tells him he is okay. Dunstan gets up and walks over to Tori and says, “Ready to meet your parents?” She nods as Matthew picks her up in his arms and walk’s out of Doomsdays castle just to be found by the royal guard’s who accompany them to the royal castle were, or as Dunstan knew, the royal family waited. As soon as they entered the throne room Dunstan was tackled on by a girl in fancy

clothes. She ask’s “What took so long Dunstan, didn’t you miss me?” Then she notices Matthew and Tori and ask who they are. Dunstan gets up and walks to the throne’s and bows and says “Your majesty’s, sorry we are late we got detoured by lord Doomsday who took Tori. I had to kill him, but I also found the second family of the true king.” They gasped as Matthew shows them Deathbringer and bows before them. Tori bows as well. The king stands up and tells Tori “There is no need to bow, daughter. You have done well Dunstan, take a rest, there will be a party after this.” Dunstan responds, “Matthew follow me to the tailor, he will get you a suit.”

Matthew follows Dunstan out the throne room. As they make their way down the hall Dunstan heard angry stomping he smirked as a hand grabbed the back of his shirt. “Why did you not tell me about this! This is huge! You leave for about 3 days and return telling me that I have an older sister! You better make I up to me tonight with a slow dance!” She turns and walk’s in the other direction as Matthew ask “Who the heck is that girl! She thinks she can just walk all over you like that its disrespectful!” Dunstan responds “She can walk all over me because I let her. She is my girlfriend so do not talk bad about her or she will freak out. Her name is Sophie.” Dunstan opens the door to the tailor’s workshop where the tailor is finishing a red suit with a black tie.

Matthew steps in and the tailor stops to look at them. The tailor looks at Dunstan and says “Your suit is ready. Do not pop out those wings at all or I will stop making your traveling clothes.”

Dunstan laughs and responds, “You know the king loves when I cause fireworks and fly, but if you insist I will not use them but, I brought a new body to be suited up for the party.” The tailor looked at Matthew and smiled and waved him over. Matthew walks over and the tailor gets his size and then ask for color to which Matthew responds “Green.” Pretty soon the tailor takes out a suit of full green and hands it to him saying “This will fit. Hopefully, you like the color.”

Matthew thanks him as Dunstan grabs the red and black suit and thanks the tailor

(3 hours later)

Matthew and Dunstan walk into the ballroom to hear laughter and cheer. They walk to the food table were Dunstan picks up a plate of green goo and starts to eat it when he sees Sophie and Tori come into the ballroom. Dunstan grabs Matthew and points to Tori as the walk over to where they are. They reach them and they both bow and ask the girls if they would like to dance. They start to dance and Dunstan whispers to Sophie “You look amazing as always.”

(5 hours later)

The party had just ended, and Dunstan was leading Matthew to their shared room where they would spend the night. It was the perfect end to his quest as he laid down for sleep. He thought of what the future could hold for him and Matthew and slowly he drifted to sleep.

Nikomi by Alex Bushnell

Nikomi peered down at his mother’s lifeless body, the overwhelming scent of blood enveloping his senses.

He brought his hands over his nose, mucus slipping past his sniffling, dirtying his hands further. Salty tears crept down the young boy’s face, everything quickly becoming too much.

Collapsing onto the cold basement floor, bruising on impact. His thoughts scrambled, any sensible idea he had, lost to grief.

“Mama, mama, wake up,” the young boy cried to unforgiving truth, pleading towards empty fate.

“She’s not waking up and you know it,” a chilling voice echoed through the space.

Nikomi knew him as Javier, he had unknowingly separated him from the title father the moment he heard of the affair, a refusal of acknowledgment only subconsciously.

“But-but she has to live.” The small boy cried, not to anyone. He knew Javier wouldn’t bring her back even if he could.

Footsteps came closer, the boy hadn’t moved, couldn’t move from his spot on the floor.

“Nikomi. she isn’t waking up”

“Mama please”

“Stop begging. It won’t bring her back, she’s dead.”

“Mama, please wake up.” The small boys voice cracking as he spoke, tears breaking through glossy eyes, dripping onto his blood-stained shirt.

“Cut it out Nikomi, you’re the monster who killed her.” The man spoke, looking downon him. Discontent settled itself among his features.

The boy wiped his face, turning his sleeve wet, Nikomi stood. He looked down to the body of his mother before the heartless shell of Javier.

“You’re the real monster here.” Nikomi snapped, venom lacing his words.

“Don’t accuse your father of such heinous things, you’d think your mother would have taught you better. She truly was useless.”

“Don’t talk about her like that. Or I’ll, well I’ll…”

“What, you’ll what.”

“I’ll kill you.”

Echoing laughter quickly proceeded the threat. Javier wiped his eyes before looking at the cold body, Nikomi’ s eyes followed.

The mother he had known wore a flowery dress, dark brown hair surrounding her head.

Now the unpleasant dark red blood covered her stomach, her hand laying over the patch, the other against the floor. Nikomi had been there a moment ago, holding onto it, pleading.

A swift grab at the knife, charging Javier.

Nikomi woke, a bitter taste of tequila from the night before soured his mouth. Headache pounding through his skull, darting his hands up to rub the ache.

He felt as the man beside him shifted, feeling his awakening imminent he took his que to go make breakfast.

A quick step out of the gothic decorated bedroom, one that Nikomi had not chosen and had been dismissed when he asked for a change. And into the homey kitchen, this one Nikomi had decorated.

Headache still pounding, he settled for something simple, something his mother had made for him several times before her passing.

Thoughts drifted through his mind as he cooked, a cumin aroma enveloping the air around him. His mind began to drift, questions he never had answered, the absence of a story before bed, the overwhelming feeling of losing everything. All cut off as arms wrapped around his torso.

“You’re over thinking again.” A statement, it was never a question with how dazed he was. He knew how he was when he drifted into his past, how Zaki could call his names many times as he wished and receive no response.

There was no real need for confirmation, yet he still nodded. A comfortable quiet passed through. Plating food for both, soon sitting at the counter, hands brushing against each other.

The morning passed by easily, Nikomi spent most of his time watching whichever drama would come on TV while his lover had left the house.

As the clock ticked on, a thumping sound came from the door. Nikomi perked up on the couch, eyes darting to the door as the noise repeated.

His thoughtshad soon taken over. Had he ordered something? No, he didn’t have enough money. Had Zaki ordered anything? He never would have left the house if he had, never trusting people not to rob. He failed to think of any reason someone would be at the house.

Nikomi’ s hesitant hand wrapped around the door handle, creating a crack between the outside and comfortability of indoors.

“Son, it’s been a while.” A voice immediately recognizable, a voice he feared,he avoided at every given opportunity. Avoiding his homeland of Mexico, skipping every event. His ears rung with the voice. Knuckles white from holding the handle.

It only took a blink for the door to be pushed forwards, cold steel hitting his forehead, sharp searing pain returning in a flash. He stumbled backwards, cold stone quickly making contact, memories of that dreaded day flowed through his brain without warning.

“Quite the cabin you have here son, though this living room really isn’t your style. You have someone here withyou, don’t you boy.” The man had stepped into the house now, scanning the surroundings as his native tongue passed through his lips. A language Nikomi had seldom heard but knew word for word.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The younger man had returned in English, the confident tone betrayed by the shaking coursing through his limbs.

The man had crossed his arms, blatantly disappointed with the fear from Nikomi. If only he cared, something he would think but would never say.

“I would, but that’s not what’s important right now. Right now, I have a contract for you.”

Frozen. The only way Nikomi could describe everything he felt right now was frozen. All he had been dreading, avoiding, repressing, had come back.

He shook his head, his hair came loose from the ponytail he had set earlier in the day, cries coursed through his body. Nails driving up, digging into his scalp. Position uncomfortably against the floor.

“Pathetic, I’d think you were over this behavior. Twenty-two is too old for this you know.” It sounded the same, the same voice he’d only heard in his nightmares for fourteen years, only now it was real. It was in his house, above him, digging into the life he’d tried so hard to mend. Now in English, something he had learned, something Nikomi had helped teach him. “Now onto the contract.”

Minutes too soon turned to hours, which Nikomi knew would briskly become days. Chained to the backseat of Javier’s car was as much fun as anyone could predict.

His head leaned against the back. The handcuffs digging into his wrist with every unpredictably rough turn Javier chose to make, only to torture him more for his escape from hell.

He knew he shouldn’t have stayed still, ran, call someone maybe, but no. His legs unable to move, sitting still the inability to move himself tohis feet,to escape the fate he hated so much. But it was too late, Javier had already taken that chance to press a chloroform rag to his face.

“You know it’s wonderful,” Great he was talking, again. Nikomi thought theyhad settled for a silent brooding ride. “How you’ve picked up such a rare gene-,”

“Curse.”

“Gift, Nikomi, what you have is a gift.”

“For you.”

“I think it’s important for you as well. They cold unrelenting desire to kill? Isn’t that just powerful?” Javier praised this ‘gift.’ The curse of contracts, something he’d only seen in his family, something he had wished he could remove since the day he found out about it. “You can’t possibly think it isn’t at least a little helpful”

“This inability of choice? That seems like a good thing to you. You made me kill my own mother, using this curse-,”

“Gift.”

“Curse, using this curse to get exactly what you want. Killing my mother, your life partner. And for what? So, you could marry someone else?”

“You killed her Nikomi.”

“I couldn’t help it, you know what the curse does- you know I can’t possibly reject a contract; you know I can’t resist it, how it infects my thoughts, how all I can think is how I have to kill.”

“If you were that determined you could have stopped it.” Javier’s voice rattled through his ears. Blame, he’d tried to rid himself of the unwavering guilt for years, the fault of killing his mother had never left him.

Nikomi shook his head, he knew the man driving wouldn’t be able to see he wouldn’t care. He had little remorse for placing the blame on him, no, on the terrified eight-year-old him. Who hadn’t realized what he had done until it was over.

“Your mother didn’t even try to stop you, you know that? She let you kill her.” The continuation of guilt, everything Nikomi had tried to fix, all falling apart at the seams. “We’re stopping.”

Nikomi had slept horribly, ropes wrapped around his arms and legs, preventing any fraction of movement, the man had tried to make.

He slowly blinked his eyes open, sunshine passing through the poorly covering blinds of the motel room. A faint snoring from the other bed, Javier was still asleep. An opportunity.

The roped man shifted into sitting, quietly propping himself off the bed wobbling as he stabilized himself on the carpeted floor.

Moving into the bathroom he scavenged around for any sharp object, just something that would snap the ropes.

Nikomi cursed under his breath, nothing, of course this crappy motel wouldn’t have anything of use. He shifted towards the door, turning around to grab at the round handle.

A grumble from the sleeping man quickly diverted the attention of the attempting escapee, a sign of waking up only causing panic to course through his body. He carelessly grabbed at the cold handle, a rattling sound flowing through the stuffy room.

The bed shook on impact, Javier now sitting up staring at Nikomi’ s failed attempt.

“Did you really think you’d be able to get out? Do you lack common sense, son?”

Javier’s baseless questions elicited a shrug from the tied-up man.

“Thought I’d at least try.”

“Good one.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last words he heard before he was shoved back into the unwelcoming car. The handcuffs promptly clicked back onto him before more painful hours ensued. Which, if he was lucky, would be filled with nothing but road silence.

But he wasn’t lucky, not in his twenty-two years of life had he ever been lucky, and it certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Javier broke the welcoming silence with his grating voice.

“No, had you told me I might have,” the sarcastic tone emitted from the brown-haired man.

“Snarky.”

“You know me so well.” Scoffing, he knew he was being too tame; there was a lack of fight in his tone. He hated himself for giving up so easily.

“Despite your attitude I’ll tell you We’re going to see your brother. Aliko.” As the words left Javier’s lips, Nikomi’ s world stopped, and even that was an understatement.

Aliko was his youngest brother, the only pure piece left of his beyond-messed-up family, and he knew the reason he was being sent there, he knew his purpose the moment he reached his front door.

“Why? What did he do? He hasn’t hurt you; he hasn’t hurt a damn fly! Why are you killing him?”

Javier tutted at his words, nonchalantly shaking his head as if he hadn’t just said a soulshocking truth.

“My dear boy Nikomi, I won’t be killing him; you will.” A snide smile spread across his greedy, hateful face.

Nikomi prayed; for the first time in fourteen years, he prayed for this all to be over.

The doorstep to Aliko’s house looks exactly as he thought. White lacy columns adorned the patio of his well-polished house. The contrast to his darkly colored cabin reminded him of the distance he’d traveled.

As the car door opened Washington air nipped at his skin, causing the man to shiver and scoot closer to the heat of the car.

“Now for the part we’ve all been waiting for Your contract.” He smiled as a pen exited his pocket, accompanied by a contract, the gold lacing shining in the sun.

Nikomi could hear the scribbling from the roof of the car, the sound he could never avoid, and the situation he had tried to. But to no avail. This is what he was meant for; this is what he was born for. Killing others was his job.

“I’m signing it now, have fun, son.” With the last line of the contract filled, Nikomi’ s head became madness.

The distance sound of the unbounding of handcuffs couldn’t be heard over the overwhelming sound of murder currently pounding in his ears.

His head becoming clouded, the only new thoughts emerging carried the prospect of killing his youngest brother, the only thing Nikomi had ever wanted to protect.

He stepped out of the car, Javier pressing the handle of a knife into his palm, Nikomi watched his mouth moving, unable to register what he had actually said.

He turned; the house that had once looked so nice and proper had only shifted under the eyes of the killer. A fast-paced walk towards the house and a thumping at the door hadn’t been acknowledged in his thoughts, only the opening of the door and a knife into his closest family.

The Arrival by

Melayna Tidwell

The sand was in his lungs, choking, suffocating. Writhing in pain, he forced himself up, coughing and hacking until wet clumps of sand fell from his mouth and piled up in front of him. Staggering, he rose to his paws, crouching as the last bit of sand exited his mouth. Looking around, the sensor in his eye whirred and clicked, his vision shifting from dark and blurry to dim yet sharp.

The raft he had come here in was in shambles. Bits of it were strewn around the beach, dark shapes that broke up the otherwise peaceful landscape. The beach seemed to sprawl endlessly in both directions. The ocean stretched to the horizon ahead of him, while the desert met the one behind him.

Sighing, Krypter trudged to the corpse of his raft. It was now the only familiar thing left in his life, the last remnant of the world he had left behind. He would lay among its wreckage for one last night.

“Do you think he’s dead?”

Krypter blinked a couple times, his eyes whirring as they adjusted to the new light. Grunting, he stretched his sore limbs, then stood, shaking sand from his pelt. He flicked his ears, realizing what had woken him up in the first place.

A small crunch of the sand behind him, as if someone was shifting their weight. A quivering exhale, the bunching of muscles about to make a move.

Spinning on his hind legs, Krypter whirled around, whisking his tail and spraying sand on the intruders.

“Ack!” One of them stretched a wing and blocked the sand from hitting her squarely in the face. Another stood beside her, smaller, unmoving, regarding Krypter with pupilless, purple eyes, her face devoid of emotion, and it seemed, a mouth.

He froze, narrowing his eyes. How had he not detected her? She stood on the sand, same as the other, yet wasn’t moving at all. For what he understood, that should be impossible. Nothing can be completely still. Yet here she was, a living exception to that principle.

“Seriously!?” the other exclaimed. Krypter shifted his gaze to her. He had never seen a creature like her before; she had large dragon like wings that were splayed on either side of her, small, triangular horns on her head, a short tail with a stinger or barb protruding from it, and a scar running over her right eye. To add to all those oddities, her fur also was changing color spontaneously, going from brown to blue to red. She turned to the smaller one, hissing, “Vortex, d’you think you can portal this guy out of here?”

She looked at Krypter a moment longer with those eerie purple eyes, finally turning to her companion and somehow speaking despite her lack of a mouth, “Not yet, Athyren. I, for one, am rather interested in his story. I mean, have you ever seen anyone like him before?” She tipped her head, gesturing to Krypter’ s eyes, which were pure black save for the glowing blue sensors which had been implanted within them.

The one called Athyren flicked an ear, then tucked her wings back to her sides. “Yeah, you’re right. It wouldn’t be right to kick him out before we’ve even heard him out." She offered him a smile. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

The only response Krypter offered back was a twitch of his tail. If there was one thing he had learned, it was that unsolicited trust only led to suffering and misery. And these creatures were nothing if not unpredictable. Athyren was still changing colors and who knew what kind of poison lurked in that stinger. And Vortex, well, Krypter didn’t know about her, but the fact that he couldn’t sense her at all didn’t sit well with him.

Athyren’ s smile faltered for only a brief moment, then it returned bigger than ever. “I think it’s time proper introductionswere made! I’m Athyren,” she said, lifting a paw to her chest, “and this is Vortex.” She gestured to the small, gray creature with an orange wing. “Welcome to Xannia!”

Xannia? All Krypter knew about Xannia was that it was on the other side of the ocean, and that the inhabitants there were primitive and uneducated. While Empyra was covered in cities and buildings, most of Xannia was uncivilized; those that lived there were vastly outnumbered by the dense rainforests, golden sand deserts, and snow-capped mountains. If he had really managed to travel all the way to Xannia . . . maybe, he could finally leave everything behind him. Maybe he could start over, become a hermit in the woods or something, someplace where no one would have known, or have heard of him.

Except that these two already did. They looked at him expectantly, as if they wanted him to divulge his whole life story to them. A laughable thought, not that he would ever explain to them why. “Listen,” Krypter snapped, causing Athyren’ s eyes to widen. “I just need some alone time, okay? So can you point me to the nearest secluded woods or isolated peak or something?”

To his utter annoyance, Athyren laughed at him, her wings bobbing up and down. "There’s nothing but desert over here!”

“Well, then how did you get here?” Krypter hissed.

“Oh, um . . .” She cast a furtive glance at Vortex, then quickly snapped her eyes back to him. “We just like traveling. We’ve been all over Xannia; we can definitely find you the right place!”

Sighing, he lashed his tail against the sand. The last thing he wanted was to go on a group trip. Especially with this color-changing oddity and her mouthless sidekick. But he was the stranger here, and as much as he hated it, they held more power than he in this circumstance. “Fine,” he relented. “Take me wherever you want me to go.”

Athyren smiled and leapt to her paws, absent-mindedly shaking out sand from her fur as she hopped around like an over-energized grasshopper. Vortex, on the other paw, looked indifferent; she stayed sitting and merely looked at Krypter with undiscernible eyes. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” she asked Athyren.

The multi-colored jumping bean stopped bouncing for a moment to consider the question. “Yeah. Well, we can’t just leave him here, can we? He’d probably die.”

Vortex looked him in the eyes again. Krypter had never seen anything like them. They were like his – unnatural, that is. Foreign. Strange. Liable to cause sudden panic attacks. He felt as if she was staring right through him, past the machinery and the wiring that was holding what was left of him together, to the soul he often forgot was still there. “I suppose you’re right. It would seem that he’s seen enough that this shouldn’t kill him.”

Krypter took a step back, suddenly feeling icy claws trace his spine. He’d had enough of experiments to last him a lifetime, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to enter another one after barely managing to leave the last.

“Don’t worry!” Athyren exclaimed, hopping next to him, and draping a red wing over his back, which he promptly shoved off. “It won’t hurt! It’s not even dangerous!”

“And what exactly is ‘it?’” Krypter hissed. She leaned in close to his snout, yellow eyes sparkling. Hewrinkled his nose and shuffled away from her, hating the feeling of the sand as it wedged itself between his paws. “You’ll see!” she whispered excitedly.

“You might want to stand closer to us,” Vortex suggested. Grudgingly, Krypter trudged over to the small creature.

“Should he close his eyes?” Athyren asked.

Vortex glanced at him, catching his soul in her gaze for that brief moment. “That’s up to him.”

Krypter already knew he would keep his eyes open. He saw everything that went on around him, whether to his own benefit or not. There was no he was going to be in the dark on whatever secret teleportation device these Xannians were hiding.

Vortex bowed her head, her eyes closed, seemingly in concentration, but her eyes weren’t scrunched like he’d expect one’s to be. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to focus his sensors on her. They were completely silent; she wasn’t doing anything, although his instincts told him otherwise.

So suddenlythat it madeKrypter flinch, Vortex’s eyes opened,and along with that action came what felt like a tear in the universe. The ground was no longer there, just a fathomless purple void that left Krypter without any perception of depth or time. How long had he been in

this state, unable to move, without anything to fill his vision but this purple wall that reminded him uncannily of Vortex’s eyes?

The journey vanished as suddenlyas it had come. Krypter found his paws touching a cool metal floor, while he stared down at a lush, thick rainforest on the other side of a glass window. His eyes caught on his reflection – dark, dismal, the only color emanating from the unnatural blue sensors in his eyes. A familiar cold anger bubbled up in his chest, but, once again, he forced it down with a lash of his tail.

“Are you okay?” Vortex asked from behind him.

“Yeah.” Krypter turned to face her, re-evaluating her small body and unnerving eyes. The power she possessed – the teleportation she was capable of – was purely organic. No technology he knew of was capable of such a feat. But for now . . . there were more pressing matters, although he certainly would revisit that topic with her later. “What is this place? Because it most certainly isn’t the secluded mountainside I asked for.”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Athyren started, walking up from behind a previously unnoticed corner, “I thought we were just gonna dump him in the woods or something? I dunno, I’m all for making new friendsand everything, but . . .” She stopped,the edges of her wings turning a bright purple.

Krypter fought the urge to roll his eyes. Few creatures managed to get on his electrical nerves, but she was one of the lucky few that managed to be one of them, even to the point that he had honestly hoped the freak furball had gotten left behind on the beach somehow.

“I thought Cyber would be able to tell us exactly who we’re dealing with,” Vortex said.

“Ohhh!” Athyren ducked her head, the fur on her face turning a bright reddish pink. “Yeah, Cyber would be great with that!”

“Did someone say my name?”

Krypter jumped, whirling around. A new creature had come out of nowhere, seemingly materializing from thin air. To his surprise, Krypter’ s sensors picked up all kinds of mechanical devices the guy was outfitted with, although his insides – from the bottom of his paws to the tip of his tail – were purely organic

“Who’s this?” the newcomer asked. A silver visor covered his eyes, and he was armored with a silver vest, as well. Both pieces of equipment had a strange glowing purple material inserted into them; two were over his eyes, and one was on top of his heart. From what Krypter knew about Xannia, this kind of tech wasn’t supposed to exist here. It wasn’t nearly the same caliber as his, of course, but still . . . impressive.

“This is . . .” Athyren began, but trailed off as she crinkled her snout in confusion. “Oh, I guess we don’t know your name!” They all looked at him expectantly.

Swallowing a hiss of annoyance, he replied, “Krypter.” He hated this, hated being a specimen in someone else’s home, like a strange bug that peaks one’s curiosities because of how absurd it is. “Listen,” he told the newcomer, Cyber, or whatever his name was. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. Just leave me be and there won’t be any problems.”

“As that may be, I still want to examine you.” His expression was unreadable. Any form of malice or contempt could be hidden under that visor. And that word, examine. Krypter had heard it too many times to be comfortable with it. Who knew what these freaks were planning? It was now or never.

Krypter spun around and whipped his tail into Cyber’s chest with enough force to send him flying across the room. He crouched, ready to spring at Athyren, but she was already running away from him, rushing to Cyber’s side, her fur turning a sickly purple. “No, no! Not again. Cyber . . .” She nuzzled his neck, and, with a start, Krypter realized they were mates.

It seems as if nothing has changed, he thought ruefully. All that effort to get away from Empyra, to escape the monster he had turned into . . . It was all for nothing . . . But there was no turning back now. He had gone too far, once again. He turned, looking for Vortex, tensing in preparation for her inevitable attack, but she was just standing there, looking him straight in the eyes. For the first time, his sensors picked up a reading from her. Sadness. But it wasn’t directed at Athyren and Cyber; it was aimed towards him.

It was so unexpected, so out of the norm. Sympathy, kindness . . . those were both things that were never associated with him. For a moment, a different reality flashed before his eyes, one different from Empyra, with those who cared about him and those whom he cared about. Like it was before the accident.

Vortex took a step forward, and that moment was gone. That fragile feeling – hope – was quickly replaced by those reoccurring memories and everything that came with them. All his pistons were firing, telling him to run, to escape, to get out of this strange building that shouldn’t exist by any means possible.

Leaving the Xannians in their dismay, Krypter bounded into the nearest hallway, finding himself in a labyrinth of metal corridors, each one lined with large glass windows looking out at the surrounding jungle. Countless rooms jutted off from each hallway, most of them without doors. Franticly, he ran through, up to each of them, most of which were filled with

incomprehensible tech. There was armor and contraptions of all kinds, but most alarmingly, weapons, even ones that looked more advanced than those used in Empyra. At a moment’s glance he noticed lasers, evil-looking spikes one could fashion to their tail, and mechanical claws laced with electricity – a popular torture tool back in Empyra – but most was tech he didn’t even recognize.

Finally, he found a staircase, spiraling, down, down, down, infinitely, it seemed, until his paws touched the moist soil of the rainforest. Without stopping to catch his breath, Krypter took off, diving into the dense foliage and greenery. Only once did he stop to look back, but he wished he hadn’t.

Rising out of the jungle was a tower skinned in glass panes, reflecting the sun as it hung high in the sky. How such a structure hadn’t burned the surrounding trees and vines to a crisp, Krypter had no idea. But one thing was abundantly clear: this place was a lab. And not just any lab, by the looks of it. A top-secret one, filled with all sorts of experiments and weapons that any nation would cower at the sight of. The stories he had been told about Xannia were wrong; this place was powerful enough to make even Empyra falter. If there were places like this throughout the continent . . . Krypter shuddered and turned away from the massive building. He had spent enough time in labs to last him more than a lifetime. He never wanted to look at another one again.

He slipped into the undergrowth, trying to leave all thoughts of labs and experiments and death behind him.

Cyber coughed, staggering to his paws. “Ow, he moaned,” his wince visible even under his visor. “Why does this keep happening to me?”

“Are you okay?” Athyren asked, her fur turning a worrying yellow and her eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” Cyber grunted. “I’ve been worse. But who was that guy?” he asked, meeting Vortex’s eyes.

“That’s why we brought him here,” she replied. “He is unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

“Is he . . . like you?” Cyber’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “He’s from this world; that much is certain. But he’s not Xannian.”

Cyber frowned.“I know there’s other continents on this planet, but I don’t know anything about them.” Sighing, he continued, “I really wish I was able to ask him some questions.”

“Hmph!” Athyren huffed, shaking her wings irritably. “I doubt he would’ve told you anything even if you didn’t scare him away! He’s not very friendly in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Wait, what you mean, ‘I scared him away?’ Me, scary?” Cyber snorted in disbelief.

“You said you wanted to ‘examine’ him,” Athyren reminded her mate. “I don’t think anyone would want to hear that after they’ve washed up in a strange land and got portaled to a strange building with two strange creatures.”

“I guess you’re right,” Cyber agreed. “I hadn’t even considered that.” He sighed again, wincing a little as he drew in a deep breath. “Do you think that we’ll see him again?” he asked Vortex.

“Without a doubt.”

What if I go

, Brookelyn Priebe

I saw her on the side of the road, and she looked like she traveled. Like she designated her life to exploring every inch of this planet that she possibly could. She was beautiful. Not just beautiful. But the kind that you can’t describe. Her natural long thick hair that had a few braids in it scattered throughout it. It looks like it hasn’t been brushed in a few days but it’s still beautiful. She looks like the kind of girl who is grounded. Who doesn’t wear shoes just so she can be more connected to earth. Dancing in the rain. Surfing morning to night. Working at a snowball stand. Living in a bathing suit with a long skirt or overalls. She is so beautiful, so I picked her up. I was on my way to my work, which is surf lessons for younger kids. I was going to be a little late because of her, but I didn’t mind at all. She was worth being yelled at by my boss. She got in my car and told me about herself and how she does travel, (so I was right about that), and I could have never imagined this, but she asked if I could go with her. If I would leave everything to explore this world with her. Of course, I said no because I couldn’t just leave the kids at my work. They would be devastated. But with the way she was freely sitting in my passenger seat like she had no worry in the world. She was slouched into the seat with her feet up on the dash and her hand out the window. Her hair was blowing and I’m not sure how, but it wasn’t going crazy like how normal girls’ hair does, hers was like a peaceful breeze. Her fingers danced in the air like a little man running across the wires but jumping over the parts where the wire met the pole. I don’t even know her but it’s so obvious that this girl has such a free spirit. She was definitely a wild child growing up who probably loved to play with worms and put frogs in the front pocket, square and center, in her overalls.

“I’m tired of this town, please, let’s just run away,”

I don’t know why she expects me to just drop everything and go but wow did it make me happy that she’s bringing it up still.

“I don’t even know your first name and you expect me to just go away with you. I’m not as free as you, I need money and I need to take care of the kids at my work.”

She glared at me like I just popped all her little dream bubbles. Which I did kind of sort of do that, but I don’t care because I probably won’t see her again.

“My name is Kouv I have enough money for the both of us. I have been doing this on my own for 2 years and I’m about tired of seeing this beautiful world without anyone beside me to experience all of this craziness with me. You can make your mind up now whether you want to just disappear for a while with me or not. I’ll give until you’re out of work. You know… it doesn’t hurt to live a little, these kids will still be here when you get back, and this town will never change.”

What a beautiful name. I’ve never heard it before. Kouv. Kouv. Kouv. I could get used to saying that. I took her words into consideration, and it takes everything in me to choose between going or not. She’s right, this town won’t change, it never does and never has. And the kids, they still be here. I do need to have some change in my life, but I’m terrified of change. What if this girl is horrible. Oh shit, I still haven’t told her my name, I got completely distracted, I haven’t answered her yet. How does she have all the money she says she does? I want to ask but is that being rude, I don’t want her to think that I think poor of her. I hope she isn’t a prostitute, or even a drug dealer. There’s no way she could be on drugs, she has so much color in her. Her

cheeks bright red with freckles that look like a thousand stars in the night sky and her skin is radiant. She kind of looks like a strawberry.

Kouvs

I don’t even know this man’s name, but wow am I already ready to just run away with this man like I have known him my whole life. I think it’s kind of a beautiful thing, running away with a complete stranger. Yeah, it sounds bad, but not everyone is a bad person and I guess I just have to hope that this man is a good one. He does kind of look at me a lot though, but I’m not complaining. He’s rough but clean looking. He has himself put together, but I would definitely say this man sort of looks like a tree hugger in the best way possible. Old baggy jeans that have holes in them that I am assuming are from falling a lot and then an oversized but short shirt that has yellow and blue stripes. And his hair. Oh my gosh his hair. I love it. Such a deep brown and it just lays so perfectly. There’s no part in it and it seems like there’s no way of actually styling. I bet he doesn’t even brush it, but it looks good that way, so I don’t think he should brush it.

“My names Wesley by the way. I haven’t told you that and I’m not going to run away with you if you don’t even know my name”

Oh, wow so he is actually thinking about running away with me. He’s going to do it. Wesley, his name fits him so well, it rolls of my tongue like I was meant to be saying it at this very moment and for the rest of my time running away.

Stop it Kouv you can’t be thinking like this. You don’t know this man, you just told him about you and all this man did was offer up his name, he didn’t event tell you about him. For all you know,

he could be some psycho killer who is on the run from the authority but stays on the DL for a few weeks, settles, then picks up and leaves. He could also be the most amazing man you have ever met, who is purely written by a woman. I wonder what kind of music he likes.

“Wesley” oh shit, I didn’t mean to say it out loud

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to say your name, I wanted to know what it felt like to say. But I want to know about you, mystery man.”

“Okay like what”

“Let’s start at music, what do you listen to?”

“Oh Kouv, I listen to absolutely everything. I don’t even know where to begin. I would say I listen to more like yoke lore, Zach Bryan, flatland cavalry, or the Lumineers. I can’t choose a favorite type of music because I also listen to Metallica and the cure, salt n pepa, and everything in between.”

He’s the love of my life. I am making that decision right now. This man is the love of my life. This has got to be a very dangerous decision, but I don’t care, if he hurts my heart, then so be it, I’m still young and I’m still learning from my mistakes. I want to go on long road trips with him and I want to feel this free all the time. I hope he’s in on this plan and really considers it. I think I’m about to say something very bold. I just need to work up the courage to, I need to convince him.

God this girl, she is so beautiful, I want to know her music taste, but I think it’s so cliché to ask the same question when getting to know someone, she didn’t say anything to me after I told her my few favorite artists, so I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, I’m just spiraling into overthinking right now. I need her to say something to me.

“I want you to come with me, I don’t care what you want, I need you to come with me Wesley, I want to know you, and everything you do, I want to know your little ways of doing little things that mean absolutely nothing. I want to hear you sing, I want to watch you butter your toast, I want to watch you live so freely for as long as you want.”

Yeah, I’m doing this. I’m running away with a random girl. Am I dumb? Maybe. But I don’t care. Sort of. I do care, but I don’t. how could a girl I have just met make me feel this way? If she brings this much joy into my life just in these few minutes we’ve spent together, then I want to be around her for as long as I can, I want to feel this way for a long while.

“Okay.” That’s all I can think of to say. God dammit why am I like this. I didn’t even sound happy but i am so overwhelmed with happiness right now.

“What does that mean? Just ‘okay’? are you going to come with me or what?”

“Kou vim doing it, I want to run away with you. I’ll do it, just promise not to kill me okay?” Of course, I had to say something stupid like that, who says that I don’t need her to think I don’t trust er although she has given me no reason to. But she also hasn’t given me a reason not to. So, I guess what I said was okay

Unchained

Written by Marissa Struhar

“Doctor Annabelle Shepherd, how are you this evening?”

The clicking of her heels echoed through the dimly lit hallway. The lights flickered with what seemed to be every approaching step, and every drop of rain that smacked the windowpanes caged by bars.

“Glad to be alive. And for the millionth time, just call me Ann.” Ann promptly snagged the clipboard from Roy’s hands.

Roy smirked as he pulled the worn key card from the strap attached to his belt and opened the barricaded steel door. The sound of the buzzer swallowed the sound of the rain, and the operating light converted the hall to a thick crimson. The door creaked open with a slight push.

“Ladies first, Ann.” Roy gestured with a slight bow, directing Ann through the door.

“Shut up” She scoffed.

A hallway, darker and eerier than before held the patients’ who needed special confinement and held the patient Ann came to see. The snarls and banging on the patient’s cell doors welcomed Ann as she tracked to the end of the hall. Both Ann and Roy approached another steel door, and he swiped the key card once again.

“You know the drill. If you need anything, just shout and security will be right in. Be careful.”

Ann passed through the doorway with a loud slam following behind her. The silence made everything around her stand still, and a deep breath released with the screeching of the chair against the concrete floor shook her to the bone. She sat gently and placed the clipboard onto the table and stared at

him. His cold gaze felt empty and hollow, as if a soul doesn’t exist beyond those eyes. Ann pulled out an audio recorder and placed it between herself and the man sitting across from her, and pressed start.

“This is Doctor Annabelle Shepherd here with patient number AT2467. Legal name, Flinn Wallace. Current age, 35 years old. Today’s date is October 22, 1982, it is currently 6:47 p.m. Now beginning session number 228. How are you today Flinn?”

The toned static overflowed the room. Flinn observed Ann for a moment and gazed down at the handcuffs linking him to the table. His hands were red and scarred, and the area around his wrists that were tightly secured by the cuffs were bruised.

“Your hair looks lovely today.” he mumbled.

Ann, frozen for a moment, looked up at the camera hidden in the dark void within the top corner of the room, pointing directly at the both of them. She adjusted the glasses resting on her nose with a slight tap, then clicked her pen and began flipping through the papers fastened along her clipboard. She skimmed amongst the list of medical diagnoses that seemed to run on for pages on end. Flipping through a few more pages, she finally paused, and placed the board back onto the table. She readjusted her posture and chair and glanced at Flinn.

“In this session, we will be discussing the importance of people in your life and attempt to uncover the reasons behind the actions that followed. Is that alright with you Flinn?”

A slight nod followed, and Ann began her lecture.

“Do you remember Linda?” Ann lightly spoke, followed by a pause.

Flinn’s eyes shot up and glared and Ann through his thick brows. His head began to rise, and Ann gripped her pen tighter than before, expecting a provoked reaction.

“Of course, I do. She was the love of my life. You know,” Flinn hesitated. “I still dream of her to this day. I think about the way she smelled like citrus and dew combined in a lovely way. How her laugh sounded like a choir of songbirds in harmony, and especially the way that she held me in her arms like a mother to her child, comforting me at my lowest. I really did love her. But tell me doctor, how can I love someone that I absolutely hate?”

Ann gulped down the wretched words that left Flinn’s mouth, and for a moment, had nothing to say. She took the pen that was still gripped within her palm and wrote down Flinn’s words that haunted the air between them. Once Ann was finished, she placed the pen back on the table, and regained her composure.

“I’m not quite sure Flinn. What do“

“Have you ever loved anyone doctor?” Flinn interrupted.

Ann hesitated, wondering if she should reveal the grim past that follows her like a shadow.

“I have. I loved him a lot, actually. But that’s in the past. He’s gone now, and I would rather not talk about that right now. Now Flinn, enough about me, let’s get back on track to-”

“What was he like?”

Ann’s eyes shut with a deep sigh, attempting to keep her calm. She unknowingly grabbed the pen back off the table and held it once again in her grasp. She thought about it for a moment, that possibly, if she complied with Flinn, this conversation might lead to something that could become uncovered with the discussion that follows.

“He was one of a kind. Truly the best man imaginable for me. I loved him, and he always made sure to return that love and more.” Ann stopped to reminisce on her lover, but immediately ceased after the realization of Flinn staring through her like a bullet.

“Well, it seems like you loved him very much, and I’m glad you were in a good relationship.”

“Thank you Flinn. I appreciate- “

“Where is he now?”

Those words pierced though Ann’s heart. She suffocated the pen as sweat began to run down fingers. Ann shoved out the chair from under her as she stood up, anger brewing inside of her. She avoided eye contact with Flinn as she choked back the tears caused by the man in front of her.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll schedule another appointment for us to continue this conversation another time.”

Ann grabbed her pen, clipboard, and recorder from the table and opened the door to her escape.

Ann made her way down the hallway with a quickened pace trying to get back to her office without any interaction from fellow co-workers. The rain continued to smash against the windows, attempting to drown out the thoughts that engulfed her mind, but even the rain and screams of patients couldn’t stop the tears that trickled down her reddened face. Once she arrived at the door to her office, she made her way inside and smashed her belongings on her desk. Slamming her hands onto the table with her head hanging low, tears continued to fall, forming droplets that fell onto the papers beneath her. A light knock on her door made Ann freeze, and she quickly wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Who is it?” Ann called with a quiver in her voice.

“It’s Roy. Can I come in?”

Roy spoke softly with a warm tone. Ann fixed her posture and drew a deep breath. She made her way to the chair across from her and took a seat.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all that. I didn’t know that the conversation would end up like that, and I’m sure you didn’t either. Listen, I knew from the start when you first took on this case, that a situation like his would mess with you. If you’d like me to, I’ll“

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Ann glared at him. “I knew what I was getting myself into. And I knew the possible mental side effects of this case. I promised myself that I would never let my emotions or past get the best of me, but I failed myself and others today, and I take full blame. But let me tell you something, Dr. Jenkins, I am not one to give up on something, especially a patient of my own. Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate all that you do for me, and you’re a great friend of mine. But if you don’t mind, could I please get back to work? I would really like to get home before 10 tonight.”

“I heard everything. Do you want to talk about it?”

Ann groaned and flung her glasses onto her desk, dropping her face into her palms. She hesitated for a moment and stared back at Roy through her fingers. She wiped her face, her eyes still puffy. Roy made his way up to her desk and took a seat in one of the chairs across from her.

“Thank you, Roy.”

Roy chuckled at the remark Ann made as he stood up from his chair. Once he got to the door, he turned to look at Ann once more.

“If you need anything, I’m right next door. Just knock.”

A genuine smile from Ann surfaced across her face for what seemed to be the first time in days. Roy left the room, and Ann continued to sort through the piles of papers on her desk.

The smell of dew in the sunrise was one of the few things Ann liked about her early morning schedule. Ann made her way into the high security building and greeted the officers that just got off the night shift.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full this morning Dr. Shepherd.” one of the officers spoke.

“Yeah, just something for a friend of mine.” Ann struggled to say as she pushed her back into the door of her office. She sat down her belongings and made her way next door to Roy’s office with two coffee cups in hand.

“I appreciate it, thanks. This is actually perfect because- “

A loud knock boomed through the room both Roy and Ann sat in, and the both of them stopped in their tracks. Their eyes shot to the creaking door. A man with a large stature that hovered over the ones who dwelled bellowed him made his way through the entrance.

Ann pushed open the door with her hip and greeted Roy, gesturing the drink she had bought for him.

“Got this for you! This is just a thanks for helping me out yesterday.” Ann took a seat across from Roy’s desk.

Doctor Oliver gestured to Ann to follow him through the doorway. Before Ann left the room, she looked back at Roy with a concerned look on her face, thinking about if her meltdown the day before with Flinn was the reasoning behind this.

“Doctor Oliver! Didn’t expect to see you today.” Ann nervously laughed. She side-eyed Roy and the paleness of his skin showed more than usual.

“Yeah. What’s the boss doing around here at this time of day?” Roy quickly tidied up the loose files laying on his desk while still maintaining eye contact with Doctor Oliver.

“Doctor Shepherd. I couldn’t find you in your office, so I assumed you would be here with Dr. Jenkins. Can we talk for a moment? Alone.”

Doctor Oliver gestured Ann to follow him through the doorway. Before Ann left the room, she looked back at Roy with a concerned look on her face, thinking about if her meltdown the day before with Flinn was the reasoning behind this.

As the door shut behind both her and her boss after making way into Ann’s office, Ann took a seat at her desk, but Dr. Oliver persisted to stand above her, never sitting in the chairs that would have separated the both of them. He pulled out a file with the name “Flinn Wallace” plastered on the front, along with a massive red stamp that obscured the cover. Dr. Oliver rested the file on Ann’s desk, turned, and made his way out the door.

“He leaves in 3 days.” Dr. Oliver muttered, closing the door behind him.

Ann took a closer look at the file left on her desk, and immediately saw the bold red words stamped on the front of the file. Her heart dropped, along with the papers that were once held in hand. Roy opened the door without any warning.

“What happened? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Roy whispered, trying to keep the conversation quiet, but his heart pounding loud through his chest.

Ann sat there in shock, choking on her own words. She slowly looked up at Roy from across the room and softly spoke,

“He’s being released.”

Long days and long nights have passed, and now, time has finally come. The day that Flinn Wallace is being released. Ann looked out the window of her office down to the front gates of the institution. Ann saw Flinn get into the car that would transport him elsewhere for the time being, since he had no family to pick him up, or to stay with. As Flinn was about to get into the car, the handcuffs on his wrist were unlocked by the guards escorting him. But, as he was doing so, Flinn’s eyes locked onto Ann’s through the window, and he stared, never breaking eye contact. His eye’s still cold and soulless, but this time it seemed different, as if he knew where to look. Like he knew where Ann was. Ann continued to stare back at the eyes of her former patient, until he broke eye contact as he was being pushed into the car. Ann ragefully sat in the window, and watched as the car pulled away, and the gates shut once again.

Roy knocked on Ann door, and without asking, walked right in.

“This is absurd. I can’t believe they would do something like this.” Roy muttered in rage.

“Yeah, and I’ve had enough of it.”

“Wait a second, Ann! Where are you going?” Roy jumped and chased Ann.

“I’m going to fix this! And I’m going to get that man back into his cell, whatever it takes!”

Ann busted through the double doored room that led to Dr. Oliver’s office, marching up to his desk, throwing the file on top of the papers he was working on.

Roy busted into the room behind Ann, out of breath and eyes wide, watching Ann stand up to the man they feared most.

“What are you thinking bursting in here like this Dr. Shepherd?” Dr. Oliver fell back into his chair in shock.

Ann ripped the file from behind her back and smacked it on Dr. Oliver’s Desk. Her cold glared pierced the eyes of her boss, and he glared right back. Her boss rose from the cushioned chair, and towered over Ann. She took a slight step back, but regained her composure with a deep breath, and marched right back up to Dr. Oliver.

“You know exactly why I’m here Doctor. That patient was my duty and my responsibility. Flinn, was my duty and my responsibility! I believe that Flinn is not ready to be out in the open world, and all of the evidence is right on paper.” Ann paused and gulped down the fear of the response the man in front of her was going to make.

“First of all, young lady, you do not rush into my office like that! Second of all, who gave you the right to speak to me in such tone!”

Other co-workers began to gather outside the office door, peering into the commotion that echoed through the halls. Roy stood in shock and feared any intervention.

The doctors all left and went back to their obligations. Roy began to walk away, still hearing the shouts from beyond the barricaded door. Roy paused for a moment, looked around to see if the coast was clear, and slowly began to creep back up to the boss’s door.

“I don’t understand doctor. I’ve worked with Flinn for so long now, but out of the blue, he gets the green light to go, and I don’t get any notice about such information until right before he left? Don’t you think that’s even a little absurd?”

“You are not in charge of such decisions, and you knew that from the beginning. The board and myself all came to this conclusion, and we feel that with his recent status and behavior, he has just met the requirements to be out in the public. He’s been inside of this cage for so long, and we’ve all decided that taking a step out into the real world will be beneficial for him development and improvement.” Dr. Oliver began to make way back to his desk.

“All? We? Obviously, there has been no all or we in this decision!”

“Enough Annabelle! I’ve heard enough of your bickering for today! The decision is final and written in stone. Nothing will be changed at this time.”

The both of them stood sill, surrounded by the silence that filled the air. Ann huffed in anger, out of breath from the commotion.

Roy leaned against the wooden wall next to the office door and listened as the commotion came to a sudden halt. A faint voice followed, too faint for Roy to hear from the outside. Abruptly, the door swung open, and Ann marched out of the room about to burst into tears, making her way back to her office.

“Don’t touch me!” Ann turned to Roy, eyes red, and cheeks stained by the ever-flowing tears.

“What happened in there? What’s going on?” Roy worrisomely asked Ann.

“He’s making me go on leave for a week. He said that my behavior was unreasonable, and I overreacted.” Ann walked over to her desk and picked up the bag that rested underneath it. She began to grab files and stuff them into her bag, and within those files, grabbed Flinn’s.

“That’s ridiculous! You have every right to be upset. After all, he is your patient.”

“Yeah, well tell that to the Doctor.” Ann made her way to the door and started to open it.

“What are you going to do then? You can’t just give up like this.”

Ann paused for a moment; the door halfway open. She glanced back at Roy for an instant. Her face angered. They both stared at each other for a moment, and Ann told Roy the one thing that was on her mind.

“I’m not giving up. I’m going to make things right. I’ll be back soon, but for now, I’ve got to get this horrible person back to where he belongs.”

Secrets and lies

Emily

Mickens

I imagined he sensed my brain tearing him to pieces. Ripping him apart one by one. His face way too pretty for someone so evil. What is it they say, “The devil was once an angel”. Now I’ve never been religious, but this man is made for unforgivable sinning, and God have mercy upon my soul because he might just be my undoing. Wait. No. I must remind my traitorous heart that this man is evil in the flesh and will only leave me broken and kicked out of my not so secure spot in heaven. Although I suppose the devil himself could always secure me a spot in a bloody river filled with the souls of his other gullible victims. I come back to the land of the living and see the red horned man himself raising a glass in my direction as if we are old pals. Maybe he can hear my thoughts. I raise my glass in return with something that isn’t quite a smile but managed to look victorious, nonetheless. He has no idea what I have in store for him, and I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t make me feel like a cat who got the canary. I’m picturing all the ways that I could make him feel my pain. His time will come. This devil in disguise may be temptation personified, but my goal is clear and bright. I refuse to allow anything to distract me. Certainly not him. It’s very unlikely that I will come up with a plan that can outsmart him, but as for me surprising him? Well let’s just say he’s always underestimated me. It’s the glasses. People always look more innocent with glasses, right?

Back to my “old pals” comment. I wasn’t being 100% honest. Me and this sinner have known each other for longer than I care to admit. Just like I hate admitting that he is not actually the devil, and I am just obsessed. As Jane Austen said, We are all fools in love. He made me out to be a fool with nothing. Not even two cents to rub together. He stole my future and won’t even

tell me the full story behind it. He continues to stick around. Always sending invitations to parties at his casinos and galas in his mansion. This is all part of the reason I cannot get him out of my head because he is somehow always in my sights. Something tells me that it’s not a coincidence.

Gage Fitzgerald Erikson has been a tenant in my head for a long time, living rent free. I would love to actually convince myself that he is pure evil and is using his dark delicious devil magic to make me fall in love, but that my friends is unfortunately not the case. He is just a normal guy. Well, if you consider someone who is worth billions and tears people’s families apart as a past time normal, then yeah, he’s your everyday average Joe. Gage, in all honesty, is everything but normal. Of course, he would never let the public see that. The only reason I know him inside and out is because I spent years learning him. Years falling in love with every move he makes. He never eats in public, never stutters, or loses eye contact. He doesn’t fidget or get nervous, and God forbid he lets anyone know he has any human emotion. He is picture perfect. All. The. Time. Even now. His Armani suit fit for a prince fits him just right. Tailored to perfection. His hair, as dark as the night sky, is never out of place. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Always so God damn perfect. Meanwhile, I stand in my long sleeve black dress, bra strap halfway off my shoulder, hair too frizzy to stay in one place no matter how much frizz control and heat I put into it to make it stay flat. We could not be more opposite, me and Gage. Oh well, opposites attract, I guess. God. I lose all sense in his presence. Nothing new though, it has been this way since I walked downstairs at 6 years old and got introduced to the new neighbors. Gage has had the key to my locked off heart since. Now I know what you’re thinking “why would you plan to ruin the love of your life” and to that I say: eye for an eye. He has ruined me beyond repair, and I hate that I still have any love for him at all afterwhat he’s done to me. To my father.

I guess love that is written in the starts doesn’t disappear as quickly as those written in the sand. Gage starts walking in my direction, my face remains unbothered, but my stomach does summersaults, and my heart feels like it’s ready to jump out and into Gages hands.

“Aria, darling.” Gage says as he reaches out to stroke my cheek. He does this every time even though he knows I hate it. He taunts and teases any chance he gets. I say I allow it because keep your enemies close and all, but the truth is I just want to feel his touch even though it’s the touch of a lies and deception.

“Gage. Lovely party.” I say trying to remain casual. Desperate tohide that I burn with the fire of hades for this man.

“Thank you. I was looking forward to this. I just want to smack that delicious smirk right off his GQ model face. He’s actually been on the cover of GQ. Literally.

“Yes, your parties are always… exciting” As I’m talking, I can see countless people behind him, trying to figure out how to grab his attention how I’ve managed to.

“No, Aria I meant this. Talking with you. It’s been a minute love.” My eyes widen at his admission. Not the pet names, Gage loves those. The knowledge that I have been on his mind. Something about that has me feeling enraptured.

“You alright? You went pale. Are you knackered?” He leans down a little, so we are eye to eye. I suddenly feel as if I am hanging onto every word he’s saying. Like I will drown if I don’t have him to hold on to.

I clear my throat before I answer. “No, I’m fine, not tired. Just zoned out for a second”

He smiles like he knows that is not the entire truth. He has this look of genuine concern on his

face but also a hint of amusement. He knows the hold he has on me; I do not know how to feel about that.

I believe I forgot to mention that Gage is British That accent is one of many things about him that make me want to forget all about the past.

“It hasn’t been that long Gage. You’ll survive without me” I say referring to his earlier admission of thinking about me. My control is slightly slipping, and I need to end the conversation but for some reason I can’t. More importantly, I don’t want to.

“I do not know about that. You keep my black heart beating” He places his hand above his heart with a cheeky grin. Asshole. But a small part of me would love to be the reason his heart beats.

“Oh please. As if you have a heart.” I snap at him. I’m suddenly caught feeling jealous of any women who has ever held any importance to him.

“Darling” He warns. He doesn’t want me to cause a scene.

“What?” I’m full-on glaring at him now. We have drawn a small crowd at this point.

“If you must make scene, please don’t make it about my heart. That is such a cliché love.” He isn’t worried about the press finding out about me, he’s worried they’ll think he has heart. The very thing he is trying to prove he has to me.

“Well, if you do have one, I have certainly never seen it” Liar. My words wipe the smirk off his face. He is now looking at me like he cannot believe I think that.

“Aria, you know that is not true. You more than anyone knows that is not true.” He takes on a soft tone that I have only ever heard him use with me. It’s not condescending or mocking. It’s gentle and sweet, like he really wants me to believe what he’s saying.

“Gage. Don’t. Please.” I am begging him to not bring up old memories. To not remind me why I don’t cut him out of my life permanently. He knows this too; it’s why he doesn’t even ask.

He goes from gentle to pissed off in a matter of seconds.

“Damnit Aria. This is not how I wanted this to go. We go in this bloody circle every time we run into each other.”

“And who’s fault is that, Gage?” I toss my champagne back. Now I’m pissed off. How dare he act like I’m the reason we aren’t what we used to be as kids?

“Mine” he says it so low that I almost missed it. Maybe I imagined it. Gage never admits to being wrong. Ever.

“Wha- wh- what?” I can barely speak, I’m so stunned.

“You heard me ”

“I did but I want to make sure I heard you right.”

“It’s my fault Aria. Mine that we are not what we used to be. Mine that you hate me so much. It’s my fault that I’m no longer the one you look to when you’re feeling down. Mi- “

“You’re the reason I’m feeling down. ” I interrupt him before he says something that makes me think he’s not manipulating me.

“You’re the reason I wake up and cry. Why I look around and see chipped walls and my father’s broken soul every day. ”

“Baby ” That one word sounds like a plead. One that makes me feel a little sorry for how hard I’m digging in on him.

“No! You do not get to pull that card. I’m not your ‘baby’, I’m not your anything!” Cameras are flashing at this point, but I can’t bring myself to care when the person who stole my life and holds my heart is standing right in front of me. It’s crazy how something you so desperately want to hate has all your love.

‘Damnit Aria!” He grabs my arm and drags me towards the back of the casino.

“Gage. Gage! Slow down I can’t walk that fast in these shoes!” I huff out in annoyance. Luckily, he slows down enough for me to get my bearings but keeps walking towards a large door.

“I am a wanker. You and me both are aware of this, but one thing I have always been with you is honest” He opens the door and shoves me in after he closes it

“Oh, that’s a load of bull!”

“It’s not. You know me. As much as you think I’m some tosser who just screwed you over, I am not.” He never breaks eye contact as he says this to me. I can’t describe how this makes me feel. All I know is that I, without a doubt, believe him. Even though he has withheld the truth from me, he has never outright lied to me.

“Why now?” The silence after that question is sickening. I don’t even know what I’m asking.

“Because I’m tired of you hating me” He steps so close that were breathing the same air. I would love nothing more than to press my lips to his and forget the past, but I have to know the truth of why he betrayed me. And how he did it so easily.

“I don’t hate you because I think you lied to me” My words are nothing more than a whisper.

“I hate you because you made it look so easy”

“Made what look so easy?”

“Not being in my life” I know confessing this is probably the worst thing I could do, but in all honesty, I have nothing left to lose.

“Oh darling” he reaches up and strokes my cheek. I lean into it because even for just a second, I can pretend we’re still friends.

“Losing you was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life” He rests his forehead against mine. He stares into my tear filled eyes looking for my response.

“You haven’t lost me Gage. I’m right here” he softly gasps when I kiss his soft lips. Remember when I said I was good at surprising him? He had absolutely no idea that I harbored any feelings for him other than anger all these years.

“Wait” He slowly pulls away and stares for a moment

“What?”

“We need to talk first. Before we jump into anything I have to tell yo-,” There’s a knock on the door before he can finish

“Mr. Erikson! Can you tell us who the woman is! Plea-,” The reporter tries to come into the dimly lit room when a giant wall of a man steps behind him and yanks his shirt collar back. The man is dressed in all black with a clear earpiece in.

“Sod off!” Gage yells at the reporter

“Thank you, Kyan,” The man in black nods. He must be security. He pulls the man back from the doorway and soft closes the door. But not before I saw hundreds of people looking our way, trying to get a glimpse of what has caught Gages attention.

“Back to what I was saying. I have to tell you what really happened with your father” he searches my face for any kind of reaction. I don’t have one to give him because I am still processing the fact that Gage is going to tell me what happened between him and my father all those years ago. Why he completely tore my life apart.

“Ok. Talk.” I’m not being mean, it’s just all I’m able to muster up at the moment. For so long I thought of Gage as the devil. As nothing but cold hearted and evil. I’m worried he’s about to flip everything in my life upside down again. Only when I fall, he’ll be there to catch me.

“When my father died, I inherited his company. We had just graduated. I always knew what my father did was unorthodox, and that’s putting it mildly.” He starts pacing the room

“I got all his work, every document, every piece of blackmail-,”

“Blackmail?!” he looks at me with a ‘tell me about it’ look on his face before he continues.

“My father was deep in with some not-so-great people. He kept lists. Countless organized lists of people he owes and people that owe him” With that he finally looks up at me. Almost seeming apologetic.

“Your father was on one of those lists” I gasp. Never in a million years would I imagine my father involved in something so dangerous. I go to say something, but Gage puts his hand up, stopping me before I could get a word out

“Before you ask, your father owed mine according to the list. I couldn’t believe it either when I saw his name. I figured it had to be a mistake. I was going to let it go and ignore it. Let your father have his secrets but then I saw your name” he steps in front of me and grabs my hand.

“Gage I was never involved with your father. In any way. I barely even knew the man!”

I’m almost shouting. I’m scared. Scared he thinks I betrayed him.

“I know, baby. Your name was on the list because your father had a debt” he holds my hand tighter when he says this

“I don’t understand Gage.” I’m shaking my head. Wracking my brain, trying to make this make sense

“Your father was going to sell you to pay off his debt to my father. Hundreds of thousands of dollars and my bastard father was going to settle for just you.” I’m dizzy now. None of this makes any sense.

“No- n- Gage, you must be wrong. The list must have been fake, or you must have misread” he shakes his head

“Aria, I spoke with your dad afterI found this out. Just to get the facts. He told me “They would have killed me. They would have taken care of my baby girl. Treated her right.”” he sneers as he recites what my father told him. He drops my hand and turns around.

“He was so convinced you would be fine, as long as his debt was paid. So, I made a decision that I have regretted my entire life.” He paused to look up at me “I took everything from him and said as long as he kept you safe, I would keep him comfortable. My father would have chewed you up and spit you out like trash once he broke you beyond repair.” He is visibly shaking by now.

“So then why did we struggle so much? Why did I have to suffer if you kept him comfortable.” This does not make any sense anymore.

“That was his fault. He lied and told me you were fine and had everything you needed. He said you were happy. Hewas doing good in the beginning, staying clean and out of trouble so I stopped keeping such a strict watch over him.”

“Happy?! I was anything but happy Gage! I was miserable.”

“I could not have known, Aria. Every time I saw you, you were cursing me to hell. Pretending to be civil” he gave a humorless laugh which only made me more mad.

“Because any time I get to spend with you, whether it be when you are hating me or ignoring me, you’re still with me. I feel normal with you Ari.”

“You lied to me ” It’s barely a whisper but I had to say it. That hurt me more than anything else he has ever done. I trusted him more than anyone else.

“I know and the only excuse that I have is that I was trying to protect you.” He rests his forehead on mine.

“All you did was betray me.” As much as I want to be angry, I cannot be. My father would have sold me off to whoever gave the highest number. If not Gages father for his debt, then some bookie he owed. He is who I’m pissed at.

“Ari, I promise I will give you anything you need and more now. You want college? Done, I’ll call yale. You want the moon; I’ll go pull it out the fucking sky. You want to walk on mars, I’ll track Elon musk down. Anything you want is yours. I am yours ” Now what was I supposed to do with that?

A Cold War’s Heart

By Mason Kirby

The following text was collected by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation from a journal found on the body of Maksim Morozov (aka. Max baker).

Friday 5th May,1957

6:30 AM

My first day living as Max Baker, this name they chose disgusts me, but it is believable, I guess. I moved into the suburb outside of Langley in hopes of uncovering anything useful to us inside the CIA headquarters. I have secured a position as a junior custodian with low level security clearance. So, to all my friends back in the motherland, wish me luck.

Saturday 6th May,1957

6:30 AM

The goal for today is to establish a presence in this neighborhood and create an alibi. My first stop will be the Fitzgerald’s, the childless Jewish couple next door, they seem nice enough and hopefully good friends during my time here. I should stop at the market to pick up a gift for them.

9:45 AM

When I arrived at their home, I was not impressed but I do have to admit that their landscaping was pleasing to look at. Before I had a chance to knock, I was greeted by a short dark-haired woman whose name I heard to be Abigail. We exchanged greetings and I asked to meet her husband which she obliged, and I stepped into their home. Mr. Fitzgerald, whose name I didn’t catch, was sitting on the sofa drinking his morning coffee surrounded by loose bedding draped on the backrest. They may be fighting. I introduced myself to him all the while he stayed staring at the television, ignoring me. I turned to the coffee table in front of him and set down the gift basket hoping to catch his attention. He stared at it for a few seconds and without saying a word he took out the bottle of Irish whiskey and dumped it into his coffee. I stepped away awkwardly and bid them both adieu.

8:30 PM

I was not expecting an eventful night, but I am pleased to say I made good enough of an impression to be invited to a party tomorrow at the Smiths, a family of secondgeneration polish immigrants, although I do find their last name a bit strange. They said it was a “garden party”, a term I am unfamiliar with, but I was told to dress formally so I assume I will be a natural. I would label today as a great success.

Sunday 7th May,1957

6:30 AM

Nothing out of the ordinary happened this morning as I went through my routine. I had nothing planned for the day aside from the garden party at noon, so I decided to go for a morning walk around the neighborhood to familiarize myself with my surroundings. I swear I walked for an hour and a half, and I got nowhere, the endless duplicate houses overwhelmed me, so I stopped for a smoke to calm my nerves. My vision settled and I made my way back to the house to prepare myself for the party. I laid out my best suit but there were moth holes in the jacket. I need to get that patched up.

9:30 PM

I had taken my journal with me to write down some information about my neighbors, but I seemed to have gotten caught up in the festivities. I admit American parties are much livelier than the ones I am used to. It was fun, interacting with these people made me let loose and not worry about my mission, but I need to get back on task. I cannot be distracted. But the people there… they were infatuating.

Monday 8th May 1957 5:30 AM

Today is my first day. I do not know why but I am nervous, I’ve done this so many times before but this time it seems different… I’m not sure why.

7:00 AM

Once I arrived, I was immediately scooped up by a man whose nametag read James Q. Theodore, a muscular and handsome man who led me to my “station” which was a broom closet. The doors to the closet were oak, it was knotty and imperfect, the more I stared the more I got caught up in my own mind, the more I looked like a crazy person. James tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was ok to which I did not respond and as the butterflies fluttered in my stomach, I grabbed a mop and got to work.

12:30 PM

As I’m writing this, I am on my lunch break. The cafeteria food here is vile. I’m not sure how one of the wealthiest world powers can’t even afford to feed their employees a good meal. During my morning here I haven’t heard anything very interesting yet, aside from some drama between James and his идиот (idiot) of a secretary. Supposedly they are supposed to meet at a hotel down the road on the 10th. I heard this at 8 this morning and

I do not know why it’s stuck in my head this whole time. I need to focus.

5:00 PM

I just got off work and today was a total bust. NOTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I need to relax. I need to sleep. I need a drink.

Tuesday 9th May 1957

5:30 AM

I woke up in a cold sweat this morning paired with a wrenching feeling in my stomach. I think I’m sick again; I need to push myself; I need to finish this. I’ll pick up some drugs from the pharmacy before work, maybe they will help.

7:00 AM

These pills are helping. James was not here today but his secretary was. I despise her. Trying to sneak in this device was not easy but I got it done, I convinced the security it was my lunch. This massive moss green case had to be hidden in the room somehow, maybe the wall. Everything is in working order.

8:00 AM

While making my rounds cleaning, I made my way into the conference room. Luckily no one was there, so I had the opportunity to run a microphone from under the table to the tape recorder hidden in a hole in the wall. I concealed it with one of the decorative display cases that adorn the walls. Let’s hope there is something of use this time.

12:30 PM

I saw line of men in dark suits making their way down the hall towards the conference room. They looked important.

5:00 PM

I went back to check on the device and it was gone. Everything is going wrong; I don’t know If I can do this. I am going to bed early tonight. I need to take my pills. I miss home.

Wednesday 10th May 1957

2:38 AM

I cannot sleep, my mind is racing, nothing is right here. James is all I can think about, every time I close my eyes all I see is his face. What is happening to me? I am paralyzed by the thought of him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, not like this.

7:30 AM

I was late today, and I was reprimanded by James. I was supposed to feel shame, but I didn’t, it felt good, I felt alive. Just him looking at me made me feel some way I can’t comprehend. I don’t know if this mission has taken the forefront of my priorities now. Maybe the meds will make this go away.

12:30 AM

The meds calmed me down, but James still lingers in my mind. I caught myself drawing him in the blank pages of this notebook. They are crude and I don’t remember starting them I just remember stopping.

5:00 PM

Tonight, is the night they are supposed to meet, James and his secretary. I got into my car and knew that was where I was going to be too. I did not stop to eat or change my

clothes I just drove to the motel. It was dingy and rundown, but it was out of the way and a good place to go when you are doing something you aren’t supposed to be. They aren’t here yet, so I guess I’ll wait for them.

11:00 PM

James and the s**t showed up around an hour ago and checked into a room on the second floor. I hate to think what she is doing to him; it should be me… It must be me.

11:03 PM

I’m going in there I have to stop this; I can’t take it.

Thursday 11th May 1957

3:48 AM

Anger. Anger and blood. It was all a blur

7:00 AM

When I showed up for work today James’s secretary wasn’t there, that pleased me. But James wasn’t there either. I hope he’s ok. I know I didn’t hurt him. I miss him. He’s the only one that brings me peace.

12:30 PM

During lunch today I didn’t eat, nothing felt right, I just sat there scratching my face until I started to bleed. James’s boss saw this and told me to go home so I did, there was no way I’d get any work done today anyway.

12:36 PM

I am still in the parking lot, I don’t know why, I don’t want to leave. My face continues to bleed, and I don’t care to stop it. Why am I here, I’ve gained nothing by being here.

6:30 PM

I feel like someone is watching me. Since I was a kid, I’ve felt those invisible eyes watching every move I make, I thought It was getting better but arriving here only made it worse. The blood from my face now stains the pages of this journal but I can’t be bothered to turn the page. I don’t feel safe here, I don’t feel safe anywhere. I want to go home but I don’t know where that is. Maybe James knows, maybe he is my home.

7:00 PM

The pills aren’t helping anymore, I am scared, I am alone, I need someone, I need him. The blood had clotted on my face, so I resorted to my arm, it is now the subject of my abuses. My nails began to uproot from my fingers so I changed my tool of choice, my father’s knife would do. Its blade glided through my flesh like a painter’s brush upon a canvas.

11:54 PM

I’m finished; every inch of my body is covered in this sadistic artwork. My stomach seems to have taken the brunt of my creative prowess, it wasn’t a random form of lines, it wasn’t even a rudimentary pattern. The wounds on my stomach formed an image, a face… it was James.

Tuesday 21st , May 1957

3:00 AM

I have laid here for hours, I can’t sleep, I won’t sleep. I can only stare at the ceiling hoping that his image will morph out from the turquoise paint. He is all I want to look at, nothing and no one has brought me such happiness before. I need him near me, I need him to love me too.

5:00 AM

I haven’t eaten in days; this is the first time I have noticed my hunger in that time. I arrived at the refrigerator to find nothing, but a bag of rotting grapes and a steak filled with maggots. In a daze I forked down the infested steak and grapes and I enjoyed it, it felt good. The maggots slithered down my throat, chased by the juices of the fermented grapes, it gave me a sense of euphoria.

7:00 AM

I wandered through the streets of my neighborhood hoping to find something to dampen my hunger. Soon enough I ran into Mr. Fitzgerald, he was carrying a suitcase to his car that looked like it had been in the trenches of the Somme. He stopped when he saw me, he had a shocked look on his face, all the blood ran from his face. I lumbered forward to greet him, but he just stood there, mouth ajar. I spoke to him but the voice I heard was not my own, it was raspy and coarse like a sheet of sandpaper. He spoke to me in a sheepish tone, like he was afraid. While he was talking, I noticed Mrs. Fitzgerald in the window looking out at us, she had a black eye and makeup running down her face.

I knew what happened, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care less about this conversation, I couldn’t care less about their life, I just couldn’t care. I looked down on myself, I saw my emaciated hands and my bloody shirt. I realized why he was scared. I didn’t let him finish his sentence; I left him there.

8:00 AM

I have been walking for the past hour, bouts of exhaustion humbled me as I slipped in and out of consciousness. Every time I woke back up, I was still walking. My body was carrying me to him.

9:32 AM

I’m here, I see his car in the lot. I need to be with him, we will be together. I don’t care what I have to do but I will have him. I have my father’s knife tucked in my shirt pocket. He is finally going see the real me. I know I’m going to die today, but my true love will join me. We will finally be together.

END TRANSCRIPT

This journal was collected after the soviet spy Maksim murdered director James Q. Theodore in his office. The perpetrator used an engraved knife to stab Theodore 28 times in the chest before using it on himself. The home of Morozov was found in disarray and covered in garbage and filth. The state has come to the decision that Maksim will be cremated and sent back to the Russian government as to reunite him with his people.