《The unlucky few》 Chapter 1: Just a girl The zombie jumped up on the upturned emergency vehicle, blood dripping from its snarling mouth, its clothes tattered, barely clinging to its torso. It had once been a man, most likely, its height and the breadth of its shoulders indicating such, though it was impossible to tell under all the blood and grime. It scented her, nostrils flaring, face snapping in her direction and with a twisting of its mouth, a gross approximation of a smile, it lunged in her direction. Sym backed up, stumbling over her feet, trying desperately to reload her shotgun, fumbling the shells with her one free hand, cursing under her breath as it came out in heavy pants. ¡®Sym!¡¯ Iseult called, running over to her from a too far distance, her own rifle slung over her back as she did her best to run away from a zombie of her own, tossing a smoke grenade behind her to try to delay its attack. Sym wished futility that she had the forethought to pick a semiautomatic as well, but it was too late now, she had to work with what she had. She felt the distinct clink of the shell rim passing the magazine catch and flipping the barrel back up, as quick as she could she held down the action release. She pumped the slide with all the force of her desperation, the stock grinding painfully against her shoulder, falling back and sliding against a car as she did so. Not fast enough. The zombie was almost on her now. She managed to get the barrel between her and it, pulling the trigger. The buckshot exploded out, ripping a gaping hole through the zombie¡¯s chest, the force alone enough to bring down a man, but the zombie barely flinched, just kept coming, impaling itself on her gun to reach her, its jaw open wide, jagged teeth making contact with her throat before ripping it out. Game over. The dripping bloody letters appeared in front of her, the zombie''s jaws stilled in her neck, an annoyingly taunting melody overlaid. Sym ripped off the headset, exasperated. Iseult joined her shortly after, taking off her own headset with a sigh. ¡®That level is impossible!¡¯ Sym complained to her, flopping back on the bed, her long black hair spreading out behind her like a fan. ¡®They¡¯re just too fast and too strong.¡¯ Iseult said, resigned. They were in Iseult¡¯s room, posters for zombie movies decorating her walls, as well as an out of place poster for pop sensation Ira Faye, the rapidly rising darling of the entertainment industry hidden on the back of her door, which was currently closed to keep their shrieks from disturbing Iseult¡¯s brother Mnomo as he worked on a project for their father. The two girls had finished their homework, Sym helping Iseult with chemistry, as that was her best subject, unsurprising given her mother¡¯s vocation, and now they were indulging in one of their favorite pastimes, zombies. ¡®Did I tell you my theory about the catacombs?¡¯ Iselt said, swinging to sit cross legged on the bed, pink eyes sparkling with excitement. Iseult was a bit of a conspiracy nut. Her interest in both conspiracies and architecture had perhaps predictably led to her investigating the rumored catacombs under the city via any books she could get her hands on, though she had made it clear she would jump at the opportunity to investigate in person if the opportunity arose. Legend held that once the city had been the site of a massive god-apocalypse, where a god-king had attempted to raise an army of demi-gods to wage a holy war on gods everywhere and bring them to heel. The process had drained its god seed, the keystone and catalyst of a god¡¯s power, which had caused a rapid and complete collapse of the surrounding area, creating a huge underground reservoir of toxic waste and buried god-seed, upon which, allegedly, their city had been built. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The god was known as the zombie king, so called because it was originally a god-tree that had parasitically taken over the body of a human corpse and animated it, granting itself mobility. Consistent with it¡¯s zombie heritage, the demi-godhood it bequeathed its progeny with was disseminated via dandelion-like puffs of seed that spread with each breath of its stolen lungs, contaminating and germinating the plants in its vicinity, granting them the animation necessary to answer it¡¯s call to life. This only heightened Iseult¡¯s interest, her fever for zombies matched only by Sym¡¯s own. ¡®Which conspiracy theory about the catacombs?¡¯ Sym responded, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum out of respect for their joined interest. Iseult shover her shoulder in playful reproach. ¡®I¡¯m pretty sure I found a reference to a catacomb entrance!¡¯ Sym scoffed, she had heard that before. ¡®No no! Hear me out! So, I found this book, it talks about city planning, and how often cities are built on top of older cities because the older cities provide increasingly firm foundations. Right?¡± Sym nodded. ¡®So that makes sense, the zombie king¡¯s corpse had to come from somewhere, it must have been a person that lived in the city that was here before ours!¡¯ Sym cut in, ¡®who''s to say it wasn¡¯t a traveler?¡¯ Isuelt shook her head, ¡®you know we get most of our travelers by sea, and back then, without hovercraft it would have been even harder to make it over the mountains.¡¯ Iseult noticed that Sym appeared unimpressed and added, ¡°Ugh. You¡¯re just being difficult.¡¯ Sym rolled her eyes before conceding, ¡®Fine, let¡¯s say I accept that our city was built on another city, and a person from that city spawned the zombie king, or whatever, and the zombie king¡¯s apocalypse destroyed the city. Why are you so fixated on there being catacombs?¡¯ Iseult heaved a sigh, clearly exacerbated with Sym¡¯s lack of excitement. ¡®Because if we can find the catacombs, we can find residual godseed and prove that the zombie king existed!¡¯ Sym stared at her aghast, ¡®Wait wait wait, you want to find godseed?! Isn¡¯t that stuff like, super dangerous?!¡¯ Iseult looked at her with impatience, ¡®It¡¯s not like we¡¯re going to try to become gods or anything, just prove the zombie king is real. And anyway, that¡¯s not the point. The book referenced the Grand theater just outside the city as a good example of a building built on top of the remains of older previous civilizations. It has a super deep basement and underground pathways for the entertainers to get in and out and for all the equipment to be stored. What if those corridors connect to deeper ones, ones that go all the way into the remnants of the city below?¡¯ Sym remained unconvinced. ¡®But wouldn¡¯t the workers notice something like that?¡¯ She countered. ¡®That¡¯s the thing, I cross referenced a book on the history of the theater, and it has a super high turnover rate for staff. Maybe some have noticed, and gotten lost beneath.¡¯ Sym looked at her in disbelief. ¡®And that made you want to investigate them. The location with a history of people disappearing.¡¯ ¡®But we would be prepared!¡¯ Iseult said with excitement ¡®unlike them we will know what we¡¯re looking at and have like chalk or something so that we don¡¯t get lost! Come on, I¡¯m serious this time, this could be the catacombs for real!¡¯ ¡®Okay, okay, I believe you! But how would we get in to check?¡¯ Iseult deflated a little. ¡®I haven¡¯t figured that part out yet. But I will.¡¯ she amended, with resolve. A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. ¡®Iseult, dinner¡¯ Mnomo said, opening the door without waiting for a response. ¡®Mnomo! Why do you even knock if you¡¯re not going to wait for me to say open?¡¯ Iseult complained. ¡®Hi Sym, are you staying for dinner?¡¯ He asked, ignoring his sister. ¡®We¡¯re having Veridia and her son over tonight.¡¯ Sym made a face, ¡®Hiru? I see enough of him at school, I don¡¯t want to see his face outside of it too.¡¯ Mnomo chuckled, ¡®fair enough, he is a little obnoxious,¡¯ he replied, ¡®anyway, dinner in a half hour, Iseult, don¡¯t be late, Father will be disappointed.¡¯ ¡®When is he not disappointed in me.¡¯ Iseult returned. Mnomo sighed. ¡®Still, I¡¯ll have to hear about it, so I¡¯d appreciate you keeping the disappointment to a minimum.¡¯ Iseult forced a laugh. ¡®I¡¯ll see you tomorrow,¡¯ Sym said, packing up her belongings, which had somehow gotten scattered around the room. Mysterious how that happened. ¡®Have fun getting grilled by literally everyone at that table.¡¯ She gave Iseult a quick kiss on the cheek and Mnomo a wave before seeing herself out. Chapter 2: Mother is very busy Sym¡¯s mother Posao was a chemist, a mining chemist, to be precise, as she would correct anyone who misspoke, including Sym who made a point to do it often in her presence. And she was very very busy. And though she wanted the best for Sym, she had very little time to actually spend with her, as Veridia demanded a lot of her employees. Sym¡¯s Grandmother had worked for Veridia¡¯s company as well, back when it had been run by Veridia¡¯s father. But she had been a miner, working long hours in the uranium mines outside the city limits towards the mountains, but was forced into retirement by a terrifying accident that had left her with a deep seated fear of confined spaces. Her partial pension and later her payout had given her and Posao enough to survive until Posao had managed to secure funding through graduate school. Posao had worked hard to get her position, and with the scholarships Veridia¡¯s company offered supporting promising science students, she had managed just that. ¡®Grandmother! I¡¯m home!¡¯ Sym called, smacking the apartment door shut behind her, rattling the small gold statue of the luck god Ketsuri in her beetle form displayed in their entrance way. It was the first thing Grandmother had unpacked when they moved in, placed conspicuously so as to be the first thing someone coming in would see. ¡®This is an auspicious move,¡¯ she had said, ¡®we have to pay homage to our patron.¡¯ In an effort to save money, Posao had opted to have them live in the subsidized company housing, which tended towards the smaller size. It had three bedrooms, but each of them was tiny, fitting a bed and dresser and no more. Sym¡¯s homework was often done on the kitchen table, under the fond eyes of her Grandmother, the cook in the family. ¡®Kitchen, sweetheart!¡¯ Sym rolled her eyes. Where else could she be in this tiny apartment? She could see straight into their tiny living room from the door, and the bathroom door was open. ¡®There is chia seed pudding in the refrigerator, and I¡¯m just cooking some figs to put on top.¡¯ She said, her back to the kitchen entrance as Sym came in. Sym swung her bag onto a kitchen chair, making a beeline for the fridge and the tasty snacks it promised. ¡®Don¡¯t eat it without the toppings!¡¯ Grandmother chidded, a blow torch in her hand as she carmelized the sugar on top of the figs. Her birthday had been recently and Posao had come through with a gift to all of them this year, a blow torch that Grandmother had been taking every opportunity to use, experimenting with dishes for their every meal. Sym waited impatiently for the figs, spoon poised in hand. ¡®How was engineering club today?¡¯ ¡®Um. Good.¡¯ Sym had skipped engineering club today in preference for giving Iseult¡¯s new zombie game another go. If only she could beat that level. Ugh. Grandmother side eyed her with the knowing look only she could pull off. ¡®Uh huh. And how is the cargo and carrying system coming?¡¯ Veridia had recently made a large contribution to the prep school Sym attended for another mishap of Hiru¡¯s, which had resulted in a new engineering club with a focus on mining. Figured. Posao had strong armed Sym into joining, which had been a point of consternation. Sym would have joined on her own, she was particularly interested in the use of artificial intelligence and robotics to improve the safety and increase the operational efficiency, but didn¡¯t appreciate the lack of awareness Posao had about her own daughter¡¯s interests, laser focused as she was on Sym¡¯s future. ¡®It¡¯s fine, the new software is kind of giving us problems, though.¡¯ The current project was an evaluation of the storage hoppers and haulage equipment, estimating the desired truck fleet size and assessing whether the design of the access roads was acceptable for the success of the operations. The project had included a trip to the mines to observe the process from underground mining to the yellowcake, processed nearby, which was a thinly veiled ploy of Veridia¡¯s to advertise mining careers as well as the scholarships and internships she offered post-grads. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Hiru of course was a part of the engineering club, at the behest of his mother, and while Sym didn¡¯t hate him, she didn¡¯t particularly like him either. It was hard to like someone who school came so easily to when she had to work so hard for every grade she got. Not to mention his too cocky attitude. Life must be easy being a mining conglomerate''s son. In addition to uranium mining, Hiru¡¯s mother had gold bearing ones as well, which ironically also produced uranium, though as a byproduct. He had been marginally more bearable recently when they had been paired in the project, both commiserating over their too busy mothers, but it wasn¡¯t enough for Sym to reevaluate her opinion of him. The sound of the front door opening interrupted Grandmother from her figs, causing Sym to scowl, her eyes glued to the snack. Grandmother was certain to put it away now that Posao was home for dinner. Predictably, Grandmother snatched away her pudding, ¡®we¡¯ll have this for dessert instead,¡¯ she insisted, setting out the figs on a cooling rack. ¡®Posao honey, dinner will be ready in an hour, can you wait that long?¡¯ Grandmother called out. Of course Mother got offered a snack before dinner. Posao let out a sort of tired grunt, coming around the kitchen Sym saw her eyes with deep bags beneath them, and her frustration unfurled a little. It immediately resurfaced when Posao began quizzing her on her chemistry homework. ¡®Mom! I already did it with Iseult!¡¯ ¡®Ah yes, Gual¡¯s girl,¡¯ Posao said with some approval. Being able to rub arms with the rich and powerful was part of the reason Posao saved so much for Sym¡¯s prep school. And there was not too much more powerful than the city councilman¡¯s only daughter. Sym scowled. ¡®You make that face too much and it will stick that way,¡¯ Grandmother scolded, tapping her head with a wooden spoon, causing the corner of Sym¡¯s mouth to quirk up. Posao frowned at her mother. ¡®Why do you make such ugly faces, you¡¯re such a pretty girl,¡¯ she fussed, stroking her daughter''s long shiny hair. Sym shooed her hands away, annoyed by the attention to her appearance. Sym looked like her late father, and she often saw the sadness in her mother¡¯s eyes when she thought she wasn¡¯t looking. She wished she took after her mother, if only to save Posao from the heartbreak. Grandmother turned away. She hadn¡¯t been terribly fond of Posao¡¯s boyfriend, but it was unkind to speak ill of the dead. After dinner Posao insisted on reviewing Sym¡¯s homework, despite it being a weekend night. She claimed she would be working over the weekend and would be getting back too late for it then. Sym hurried her through it, and when Posao got to the end and insisted on reviewing with Sym her own chemical equations from work, despite Sym¡¯s exaggerated yawns and stretched arms, finally Sym had enough, and with a firm closing of her text book, stood from the kitchen table. ¡®Mama, I¡¯m tired. I promise to look them over tomorrow too.¡¯ ¡®Alright, as long as you promise,¡¯ Posao said with a yawn of her own, her eyes scrunching with exhaustion. Chapter 3: Grandmother has a problem Tomorrow saw Sym sleeping late into the morning, lost to the world until she was startled back into it by a sudden dip to her bed. ¡®Wake up, wake up, wake up!¡¯ Iseult shouted, screaming into her ear. ¡®Ugh,¡¯ was Sym¡¯s response, unwillingly yanked into the waking world from an especially vivid dream where she was finally beating the level in Zombpocalypes they had been struggling with. Such a good dream. ¡®I got tickets for Ira Faye!¡¯ Iseult clamored, indifferent to Sym¡¯s sleepy confuddelment. ¡®We¡¯re going to see the biggest pop star of our generation, and you¡¯re busy being asleep! Get uppp! I need you to be awake to appreciate just how awesome I am.¡¯ Iseult bounced a couple more times on the bed for emphasis, shaking a slack Sym by her shoulders until she opened her eyes. ¡®What happened to your eyes!¡¯ Sym exclaimed. ¡®Oh! You like them? I got them done this morning.¡¯ Iseult said, leaning closer to Sym and making her eyes comically large to showcase her pupils that had been modified into the shape of hearts, ¡®Just like Ira¡¯s!¡¯ she exclaimed excitedly. This was her second mod to be more like Ira Faye, her first was changing the color of her eyes to a pastel pink from the pretty inky black they had been before, discounting her tight pastel pink curls. ¡®Does your dad know yet?¡¯ Sym asked warily. ¡®To notice he¡¯d have to look at me for five seconds, so no,¡¯ Iseult scoffed. ¡®And your mom?¡¯ Sym continued. Iseult hesitated before replying, ¡®Um. She probably won''t mind.¡¯ That was a bold faced lie. Iseult¡¯s mother would mind very much. She had just about had a conniption when Iseult came back with pink eyes, and had cut her allowance for a full month. It had been devastating to both Iseult and Sym, who had been waiting to play the new zombie game Zombpocalypse on Iseult¡¯s gaming headset. They had to wait for Iseult to get her allowance back before getting it, and by then there had been spoilers. ¡®Whatever, she already makes me wear contacts to her stupid society dinners anyway.¡¯ Sym privately felt that Iseult¡¯s obsession for Ira Faye went a bit overboard if she was changing her body to imitate her. But it was Iseult¡¯s money to spend. Though she couldn¡¯t help but think of the different things she would have liked to buy instead. Like her own virtual reality headset. But until she could afford it, she was just glad Iseult was willing to share her own. ¡®And guess where the concert is?¡¯ Iseult chimed, an intensely mischievous smile on her face. ¡®Oh no. Not the Grand?¡¯ Sym said with apprehension. ¡®It¡¯s the Grand,¡¯ Iseult burst out. ¡®We can sneak into the basement after the show and find the catacombs!¡¯ She was practically vibrating with excitement. ¡®Now get dressed, we need to get clothes for the concert, I¡¯m not letting you go in that dress you always wear for our nights out. Ira Faye calls for something special.¡¯ Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. They had been shopping for too long, in Sym¡¯s opinion, though to be fair, any time was too much time. It just hurt to see all the pretty things she couldn¡¯t afford. She would dress up more often if she could, she thought, a small seed of resentment in her heart germinating. She tempered it back down. Iseult had bought her outfit despite Sym¡¯s slightly performative refusal. It was way too far out of her price range. And also too pink. Iseult had cooed over the frills. Yikes. She would be returning it after the show, maybe with the added money she could afford to get Iseult something nice for her birthday for once, her consistently homemade gifts were getting more embarrassing as they got older. ¡®...Is that your Grandmother?¡¯ Iseult said, as they walked down the street for boba after. A woman that was definitely her Grandmother was entering a flashy looking building, the words Miss Fortune in glittering gold neon lettering lining the entrance. Sym felt her smile drop from her face like a weight falling to the floor. ¡®Oh no. I need to go. I¡¯m sorry Izzy, I¡¯ll call you later, ok?¡¯ ¡®Wait you forgot your bags! Ok, I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll just hold on to them for you?¡¯ Iseult shouted behind her as she ran over to the casino doors. ¡®Hi, um, do you mind if I go in for a second?¡¯ She asked the doorman. ¡®Age?¡¯ She replied, looking Sym up and down. ¡®Eighteen,¡¯ she responded, trying her best to channel an older confident girl. The woman scoffed. ¡®Nice try, put out your arm.¡¯ Sym reluctantly put out her forearm, knowing that as soon as the woman scanned her identification chip it was over. ¡®Wait, I really just want to go in for a second, I saw my Grandmother go in. She¡¯s not supposed to come here anymore.¡¯ The woman¡¯s eyes softened a fraction. ¡®Sorry honey, no minors.¡¯ She said, reading Sym¡¯s age with a sigh. ¡®Even¡­even just for a second? You could come with me, I really am not trying to gamble or anything.¡¯ The woman looked at her with an eyebrow raised. ¡®Are you trying to get me fired? Just wait for her to come out.¡¯ She said irritably, the softened expression gone. Sym walked out of the lobby with her head down, resigned to wait for her Grandmother at home. When Grandmother had first had her accident, gambling had been her escape. She was still flush with money from her pay out, but the trauma of being trapped two kilometers beneath the earth had left her mentally crippled. Despite being located early after the initial explosion, it had taken two weeks for her to be extracted. She refused to talk about it with the mandated company therapist, and eventually with her degenerative disc disorder it made sense for her to leave for good. The Miss Fortune casino was brightly lit, and full of people and drinks. And with her first big win she was hooked. Her purchase of a new holoscreen for Posao¡¯s schooling had been the first indicator of her problem. But Posao had a hard time keeping her away when she was just so lucky. And she didn¡¯t go everyday, just on the hard ones. The ones where she wanted to be numb, to find a way to shield her mind against the trauma. Posao hadn¡¯t realized her mother had gotten so bad until Sym had brought it to her attention. They had tried to intervene by limiting her money, but she was so good at winning more. They tried getting her into another hobby, and cooking had helped for a little, but Sym¡¯s increased course load with the new year meant she wasn¡¯t as home as much, and apparently that had opened up Grandmother¡¯s schedule. Chapter 4: Grandmother鈥檚 luck Sym sat at the kitchen table, she hadn¡¯t turned on the light, preferring the darkness, turning over in her hands the small Ketsuri statue she had taken from the entrance. She wondered if this was a bit like how Grandmother felt, waiting in the uranium mine. Alone and devoid of hope. She wasn¡¯t sure what else she could do for Grandmother. She had thought Grandmother was doing better, but instead she had just gotten better at hiding. Maybe she could see if there was a support group, see if there were others that had gotten over their addictions that could help. But Grandmother would only get better if she wanted to. And Sym wasn¡¯t sure she did. The door opened. Sym waited, putting down the statue, silent as stone. Like the granite Grandmother had been trapped in. Her heart hurt at that thought. If she had been trapped like that, wouldn¡¯t she want to escape too? Did she have any right to take away Grandmother¡¯s safe haven? She did her best to suppress that feeling. Grandmother needed help. And there were better, more healthy ways to cope. Maybe it was time to push for therapy again, maybe it had been enough time to talk about the trauma of the cave. Grandmother turned on the light, jumping when her eyes landed on Sym. ¡®Sweetheart! What are you doing sitting in the dark! You¡¯ll hurt your eyes!¡¯ Grandmother would know all about the effects of darkness on a person, Sym thought with heartache. ¡®Where were you tonight?¡¯ she asked softly. Grandmother looked at her sharply, pupils trembling. Then she smiled, a shaky thin quirk of her lips, ¡®I was out getting groceries for dinner, sweetling. I¡¯m thinking you and I can have a special dinner while Posao is out! I was thinking some homemade ramen might be a nice treat, really get in the salt while your Mother¡¯s away.¡¯ ¡®Uh huh. And what else have you been doing while she¡¯s away?¡¯ Sym¡¯s voice was tight, she wouldn¡¯t let Grandmother distract from the grim truth at hand. ¡®Sweetling¡­I, I¡¯m sorry.¡¯ Her breath quickened, uneven, coming out in short pants. ¡®I just, you were both gone, and the house was collapsing in on me, the walls¡­the walls were just too. Too close.¡¯ She finished her chin trembling, eyes out of focus and watery, before closing her eyes tightly. ¡®I just felt, if I didn¡¯t get out, the house would swallow me up. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯ She repeated, softly, as if to herself. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Sym sprung up, wrapping her arms tightly around the woman whose big presence masked the frailty of her frame. Her Grandmother shook in her arms, big silent sobs wracking her. Sym rubbed her thin back in soft soothing circles. ¡®I don¡¯t want to feel this way anymore! I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t,¡¯ her Grandmother cried. ¡®I know. I know.¡¯ Sym repeated, trying her best to convey the depth of her emotion to one of the few people she treasured unconditionally in two simple words and one strong embrace. They had made cup ramen instead, and curled up close on their second hand couch to watch soaps indulgently. Grandmother fell asleep with her second cup in hand, Sym pulling up the blankets to cover her before slipping into her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. Now that she wasn¡¯t comforting her Grandmother, she could break down herself, tears dripping quietly down her face as her shoulders shook with the intensity of her silent sobs. Careful not to wake Grandmother, she didn¡¯t want to hurt her like that. It was so hard to see her Grandmother fall apart. The woman she was used to seeing as strong, happy, confident, directly conflicted with this broken woman she had seen today. It had shaken her. She sat up. This wasn¡¯t going to help Grandmother, and it certainly wasn¡¯t helping herself. She needed to make a plan. Should she tell Mother? She already had so much on her plate. It felt cruel to add something else, something so weighty. No, she decided, there was no need to. She could take care of this herself. Grandmother needed help and not the kind either she or Mother could give her. Grandmother needed a professional. She would look up therapists that specialized in addiction tomorrow. She wasn¡¯t sure that she believed in the gods, but Grandmother did. She folded an origami cochineal with a red painted prayer to Ketsuri written on the inside of the paper and placed it on the sill of her cracked window. If she woke up tomorrow and the ink was gone, Ketsuri would have heard her prayer. It would be alright, she repeated to herself as she slipped off to sleep. Chapter 5: Ira Faye in the flesh Grandmother and Sym stood in front of the drab professional looking building sandwiched between more drab and professional buildings. It was a very lackluster first impression of the therapist¡¯s office. Sym heaved a breath, gripping her Grandmother¡¯s hand tightly, she looked at Grandmother, nodding encouragingly. ¡®It¡¯ll be ok.¡¯ She had repeated the phrase so often in the past couple days she almost believed it. She did believe it, she reminded herself. Grandmother let go of her hand and entered the door, looking back with a weary smile through the gap as the door closed behind her. She left, hoping this time would be better, that Grandmother would get well. She took the train as close to Iseult¡¯s neighborhood as it ran. Walking the rest of the way, through the ornate gate, she waved to the security guard as she entered. Iseult lived in the same gated community as Hiru, as pretty much anyone who had money and wasn¡¯t afraid to use it. Though Hiru¡¯s house was conspicuously the largest. That¡¯s what happened when you were born with a golden spoon in your mouth. Literally, according to Iseult, who had had dinner at his house before and reported back that their silverware was in fact gold. They would be preparing for Ira Faye¡¯s concert tonight together, Iseult having taken Sym¡¯s outfit home with her. Sym was not entirely looking forward to seeing that atrocity again. Though it would be nice to feel pretty, for once. No matter what her mother said about her face, she lacked the wardrobe to back it up. Iseult would have let her borrow her entire wardrobe in a heartbeat, but as she got older and more aware of the social distance between them, the more self conscious she was about asking for things of her. But tonight would be different. They were both going to wear fluffy pink dresses, just the kind that Ira Faye was notorious for, and dance until they couldn¡¯t feel their feet. And if Iseult had her way, which she often did, they would sneak away from their VIP backstage tour and search the basement for the rumored catacombs. Iseult squealed as Sym came out in her dress, the tight laced bodice squeezing her chest to create the illusion of cleavage. Iseult filled out hers much more fully, Sym thought, looking down at her own underwhelming chest. Maybe she¡¯d grow into it. Maybe. One could hope. ¡®Omg Sym! You look like a doll! You¡¯re sooo pretty!¡¯ Well. What do you know, Sym thought looking at her reflection, twisting to see her profile. She was in fact quite pretty like this. Maybe she wouldn¡¯t return it after all. She had no idea when else she would wear it, but she could always just wear it around her house. For no reason. Just because she looked amazing in it. Iseult¡¯s was very similar in overall vibe, but the actual implementation of the dress was different, sleeveless with an open back and arm band sleeves that cinched at her elbows, flowing around her hands. Sym wondered what someone would think seeing two pink princesses exploring the depths of the catacombs. The idea made her grin. Iseult liberally sprayed them with glitter that smelled strongly of candy, and then they were ready. They called one of Iseult¡¯s family¡¯s private cabs to drop them off. They rode in the back of the top-line hover car, giggling as they shared a fizzy pop. The drink was full of ghost yeast, which floated around your head once you drank it, giving you a pretty glittery halo, which was just a bonus to its flavor. Iseult¡¯s family had the name brand version and it was delicious, real strawberry flavored instead of red dye number two. It was a little expensive, but this was a special occasion. Iseult had referred to it as ¡®the best night of her entire life¡¯ as they were seeing her favorite singer perform live and investigating a potentially zombie filled catacomb in the same night. She swayed to Ira Faye¡¯s music playing over the car radio, eyes closed and a blissed out smile on her face. Sym on the other hand was cautiously optimistic. She had never been to a large concert before, and she had certainly never been to the Grand, but Iseult¡¯s enthusiasm for the catacombs was rubbing off on her and she was actually pretty curious if this time would turn out a success. There had been a couple false alarms through the years, but she had a good feeling about this one. Or that could just be the fizzy pop, which had a mild euphoric effect. Her euphoria lingered until they were ushered into the venue, when the anxiety began to make an appearance given the sheer magnitude of people trying to enter the concert hall. Sym clung to Iseult¡¯s hand, nervous about losing her in the crowd. Iseult looked at her with fond amusement. Though the tickets Iseult bought were high end, their ids updated with their security clearance for the night and their arms tagged with temporary tattoos of Ira Faye¡¯s iconic butterfly tattoo for easier identification, the schedule prevented any mingling with the performer until after the show, meaning they were on their own until then. Timing was everything for a show of this magnitude, apparently. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. They managed to find their seats, pushing through the crowd of similarly dressed and perfumed people, Sym spotting more than a few with pastel pink eyes, though doubted they had the same permanence as Iseult¡¯s did.When Iseult liked something she put her whole self into it. It was one of her many endearing traits, despite her parents¡¯ opinions, Sym thought loyally. A couple was in their seats when they arrived, but moved from them quickly when they caught sight of Iseult¡¯s targeted glare. Sym was glad for their preemptive move, she didn¡¯t think she was up for any confrontation at the moment. Sym¡¯s impression of the concert was, in a word, pink. Everything was pink. Their butterfly tattoos fluorescent pink in time with the music, fluttering their inky wings. Even the music had a pink feel to it. The set was amazing, pink flowers creeping up the stage and hanging gracefully from the ceiling, Ira flying around on buzzing pink fairy wings, her signature pink gossamer dress aglimmer around her. It was an experience Sym would never forget. Not if she lived a hundred years. For one, she was pretty sure she had lost a significant amount of hearing, given Iseult¡¯s belting out the lyrics with Ira for all her favorite songs. Her voice was just shy of on key. Another endearing trait. It made Sym happy to see her so carefree. She could feel her face muscles stretch from smiling so much. She wondered if you could strain your face from smiling. If so she definitely had. Finally they were ushered backstage, past the aftershow passes looking hopefully up at every person¡¯s entrance, and to the room beyond. A couple local musicians that only Iseult knew the names of milled around, making small talk and doing what looked like networking. Ew. Iseult was of course talking to them already. Sym crossed her arms. This was not her scene. From her peripheral she saw a boy walk up to her, a red cup in his hand. She prepared to reject his companionship. She was here for one thing. ¡®Hey, didn¡¯t expect you to be here.¡¯ Sym¡¯s head whipped to the side. ¡®Hiru?! I could say the exact same thing, what are you doing here?!¡¯ Hiru looked a bit affronted. ¡®I can¡¯t like Ira Faye?¡¯ He quipped. Sym backtracked, ¡®I mean, sure, of course you can. It¡¯s just so, so unexpected.¡¯ Hiru burst out laughing. ¡®Actually, she¡¯s my girlfriend¡¯ he peaked at her from the side of his eye for her reaction. ¡®Come on, I¡¯ll introduce you.¡¯ Of course Hiru would be dating the pop sensation of their generation, according to Iseult. Sym scowled, not that she liked him or anything. He could date whomever he wanted. Sym was annoyed. Ira was nice. Like, really, really nice. To everyone. Iseult was over the moon. She took all the pictures people asked to take with her, a sweet smile on her face, and shook everyone¡¯s hand who offered. And here she was dressed like a knock off. All she¡¯d ever be. She resolved to burn the dress when she got home, Iseult could get her own birthday presents, not like she lacked for them anyway. Sym caught herself. That was unkind. And if she was going to be unkind she was going to do it far away from pretty, kind, perfect Ira Faye. ¡®Hey! We¡¯re headed to an after party, you and Iseult want to come?¡¯ Hiru asked, slideling up to her after another round of pictures with Ira. Iseult jumped at him, pink eyes shining. ¡®Of course we want to come!¡¯ ¡®Izzy!¡¯ Sym whisper-shouted. ¡®We have that thing. Remember. The thing you¡¯ve obsessed about for literally years.¡¯ Iseult''s look of bewilderment cleared in an instant. ¡®Oooh. Right. That thing.¡¯ She looked horribly conflicted. ¡®Hiru,¡¯ Sym said with a sigh, ¡®you¡¯re going to be dating Ira for a while right?¡¯ He looked at her insulted. ¡®Don¡¯t look at me like that, you know how you are.¡¯ He shrugged, ¡®fair enough. But yeah, we just got together, should be good for at least another month.¡¯ Sym grimaced at his cavalier attitude about relationships. Boys. ¡®See,¡¯ she said to Iseult, ¡®we can still hang out with her later. We have to do the thing tonight.¡¯ She said with emphasis. Hiru looked on, curious. ¡®Alright, but you have to set us up to hang out with her later, ok?¡¯ Iseult demanded of Hiru, staring at him intensely. A smirk creeped across his face. ¡®Sure. Next time. Later Sym.¡¯ He walked away, taking Ira¡¯s hand in his. Once Ira had made her exit, Iseult was back on team godseed, pulling Sym along by her arm to get her to move faster. They made it to the sub basement with only a few close calls with the staff, Iseult¡¯s innate charm and family name coming in handy. The air was starting to get stale, the smell of moss and musty, stagnant water permeated the air. Sets for various shows were piled lackadaisy, many in states of disrepair, this was clearly end of the line storage, borderline trash. Iseult wrinkled her nose. They used some of the leftover flower vines from Ira¡¯s show to fashion ropes. There were a lot of flower vines, but then the set had virtually decked the entire amphitheater in flower vines. At least their rope would be easy to follow, Sym thought, eyeing the glossy pink blooms. They felt impressively real in her hand, the petals soft and plush. Two pretty pink princesses with a rope of flowers, entering the deep dark unknown in search of zombies. Sym grinned. She really really liked this plan. Chapter 6: Into the depths They had used almost all of their flower line, they had only a couple lengths left for this specific passage. Each time they reached an impasse they would laboriously roll the line back up and choose a different corridor. It was damp and humid down here, and Sym could feel her makeup melting down her face. If she was anything like Iseult, she must look like a wreck. But like, in a kind of punk princesses way? It actually wasn¡¯t a bad look, she thought dispassionately. Iseult¡¯s glittery spray had long since succumbed to the scent of the earth, and Sym was surprised to find herself missing it. The earth smelled like something very old, old and arcane. It was an intimidating smell. Was this how Grandmother had felt? Her muted footsteps followed her eerily. The heavy stifling feeling of knowing that at any moment she could be crushed by tons of hard unforgiving rock. Sym shivered, and it wasn¡¯t all the damp chilliness of the tunnels. Iseult¡¯s pocket light, incidentally also pink, flickered in the passage, and Sym half wished it would completely go out, forcing them to give up their search. Her feet hurt. And her shoulders from carrying the rope. Iseult had called flash light duty, so most of the rope had fallen to Sym and she was a bit resentful. ¡®Wait!¡¯ Iseult called, her flashlight catching on something glittering just up ahead. ¡®What is that!?¡¯ She ran ahead towards the sparkle. ¡®Wait, Iseult!¡¯ Sym called out, just as Iseult went down, her screech just covering the slap of her body hitting the floor. ¡®Oh gods oh gods oh gods.¡¯ She chanted, clutching her leg, her eyes scrunched up in pain, tears running tracks of black eye liner down her face. ¡®Please, please look at it for me, Sym. I can¡¯t, it hurts too much, I can¡¯t look.¡¯ Sym bent down, dropping the remainder of the flower line to the floor as she recovered the light from where Iseult had dropped it. ¡®Shshsh.¡¯ She hushed, trying to sooth her friend. ¡®Can you move your hands, I can¡¯t quite see,¡¯ she gently coaxed. ¡®Oh gods. Ok.¡¯ Iseult slowly moved her hands up her leg, not releasing her grip, her knuckles pale as she squeezed her own flesh. ¡®I don¡¯t see a bone, it¡¯s just really swollen.¡¯ Sym said, aiming to comfort her. ¡®Don¡¯t say that!¡¯ Iseult shrieked, ¡®¡®I don¡¯t see bone¡¯ that¡¯s, that¡¯s oh gods, what if it¡¯s broken?¡¯ Iseult wailed, inconsolable. Sym privately thought there was a good chance it was just a sprain, but she wasn¡¯t going to say anything to upset Iseult more than she already was. ¡®Here, can you stand up at all? Lean on me,¡¯ she looped Iseult¡¯s arm over her shoulder, and held her waist, trying to stay as steady as possible as Iseult put more of her weight onto her. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡®Hold on, we have to check what it was that was glittering!¡¯ Iseult said, hesitating as Sym started to help her hop back the way they¡¯d come. ¡®You¡¯re still thinking about that?¡¯ Sym exclaimed. She really hoped they would be able to get out ok, they had been walking for a while. Her Mother and Grandmother thought she was at Iseult¡¯s and Iseult¡¯s didn¡¯t care, so no one would be looking for them for at least several hours. ¡®If we don¡¯t check it, this will have all been for nothing! I¡¯m not breaking my leg for nothing!¡¯ Iseult insisted. She had a bit of a point. Sym gingerly helped her sit back down, making sure she was well balanced before taking the flash light over to the glittering object. ¡®What is it?¡¯ Iseult called. ¡®I¡­it¡¯s a skull.¡¯ She said, swallowing heavily. Would that be them if they didn¡¯t get out? Wait, no, there was something lodged in it. A sort of faintly fluorescing crystal, growing in the skull¡¯s eye like a geode. Taking a deep breath, she picked it up, bringing it over to show Iseult. Please don¡¯t haunt me for this, she thought fervently. ¡®Ew! You¡¯re touching it!¡¯ Iseult exclaimed, recognizing the shape in Sym¡¯s hand. ¡®Look Izzy, look at what¡¯s in its eye.¡¯ With her nose wrinkled, the pain of a broken ankle apparently secondary to the disgust she felt for the skull, Iseult examined the skull. ¡®Huh. And it¡¯s kind of glowing.¡¯ She looked up at Sym, her eyes wide and excited. ¡®Do you think this is godseed?!¡¯ It was slow going making their way back. They left the flower rope where it fell, figuring it could be used to retrace their steps in the future, and it was just too much to carry. Sym held Iseult and Iseult held the skull, much to her displeasure. Oh, right, Iseult was the one with the short end of the stick, Sym thought, disgruntled at being the one carrying the heavy weight again while all Iseult had to do was keep track of what was essentially a big rock. Sym hadn¡¯t realized just how deep they had come. Eventually it became a little easier to breath, the ventilation from the sub basement the first indicator they were nearing the end of their hour-long trek, made longer by the many breaks they had to take. They were both exhausted. In the beginning they had talked to keep optimistic, Sym doing her best to ease Iseult¡¯s pain by keeping her mind off her ankle, but eventually she didn¡¯t have the breath to spare. Iseult¡¯s pained grunts were their only accompaniment for the last hour or so, and they both flopped to the floor when they reached the sub basement again, Iseult much more carefully than Sym, both of them panting heavily. ¡®There is no way we¡¯re going to be able to sneak out of here with your ankle.¡¯ Sym pointed out, once she got her breathing back under control. ¡®I know,¡¯ Iseult said in a quiet voice, uncharacteristically cowed by the situation. ¡®We may as well just ask someone to call an emergency vehicle, no sense in drawing it out.¡¯ Sym said decisively. Iseult concurred. Chapter 7: Misfortune and other vices Sym was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital for Iseult to get her ankle imaged to determine if she needed a cast or just a boot. The skull was in her lap, wrapped up in Iseult¡¯s bag for discretion. No need to alarm the kind nurses. It felt strange to be holding a skull in such a busy area. Like she was doing something illicit. And she kind of was. She had in her hands a technology, that if it was what they thought it was, could change the world. She ran her hand over the bag thoughtfully. She had never really believed in godseed, or gods for that matter, and even now she still wasn¡¯t sure she was completely convinced. It had just seemed like a cool interest to have. Like zombies, an uncanny valley effect, a fascination with something that often looked human but wasn¡¯t. The appeal of living by more base, primal instincts rather than the more complex and developed human ones. More simply put, it was a fun escape from the mundane, the humdrum of everyday life. Except now it was real, she held the godseed in her hands. She wondered if she would regret that yearning for something more exciting. Like a bomb, just waiting to detonate. For now, Sym thought as she yawned, she needed a break. It had been a long night. ¡®Sym!¡¯ She must be tired, she thought she heard her Grandmother for a moment. ¡®Sym! Oh Sym, oh my gods, you¡¯re here!¡¯ Grandmother rushed to her side, tears pouring down her face, wrapping Sym in an all encompassing, too tight hug, her tears wet against the skin exposed by her dress. ¡®How did you find out?! They just brought her in! Oh Sym, I¡¯m so sorry, it¡¯s all my fault.¡¯ She was barely coherent, leaning, sobbing on Sym. ¡®Oh Sym, it¡¯s all my fault.¡¯ She broke down into heavy heaving sobs, wracking her entire body. Sym felt a pit sinking in her stomach. There was only one person she could think of that would produce this level of anguish from Grandmother. She squashed the rising comprehension. No. It had to be something else. She tried to pull her arms out of Grandmother¡¯s grasp in order to rub her back and calm her down, but her Grandmother was oblivious to her efforts. ¡®Grandmother!¡¯ She finally shouted, trying to get her attention, ¡®what is going on?!¡¯ Grandmother looked at her in shock, finally taking in her apparel and messy make up. ¡®You don¡¯t know.¡¯ Her eyes filled with a new round of tears. ¡®Sym. Sweetheart. It¡¯s your mother.¡¯ The world narrowed to a single point for Sym, collapsing around her like a fisheye lens until this moment in time was her entire world. This moment when she learned that her mother was mortal. She had known, academically, that everyone was mortal. Not even gods lived forever. But she had never really considered it in practice. Her mother had always been too alive, too cornerstone to her life, for Sym to entertain what it would be like if she died. Her world was breaking apart, caving in around her. Was this how Grandmother felt in the cave? She wondered. This squeezing feeling of suffocation, of her lungs filling with cotton instead of the oxygen they desperately needed. No wonder her grandmother tried to find something to numb it, something to distract from the horror of it. ¡®There was an accident. She was exposed to a great deal of gamma radiation and, and they brought her here as fast as they could, but¡­but.¡¯ Grandmother paused, trying to get a hold on her gasping breath, her hand shaking where she gripped Sym¡¯s wrist, holding herself up, holding them both up with this one connection alone. ¡®They have her in an induced coma right now, and they said¡­they said they would wake her up to say goodbye.¡¯ Sym¡¯s mind was finally catching up, ¡®What!? How would she be exposed to gamma radiation?! That doesn¡¯t even make sense.¡¯ She snapped, trying desperately to find the faulty logic, the flaw that would reveal this all to be a grave misunderstanding. ¡®She was working on some sort of private project for Veridia, it''s why she was hardly home.¡¯ Sym ground her teeth, ¡®What project.¡¯ Grandmother shook her head, watery eyes shaking. ¡®I don¡¯t know.¡¯ ¡®Good news!¡¯ Iseult burst out of the double doors, a crutch under her arm and a boot on her foot. ¡®It¡¯s just a¡­fracture.¡¯ She took in the scene before her wide eyed, Grandmother¡¯s anguished face, Sym¡¯s enraged defiant look. ¡®What¡¯s happening? What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ Sym shook her head. She couldn¡¯t wouldn¡¯t say it. It wasn¡¯t real, it was wrong, a lie. ¡®I need to see my Mother,¡¯ she said instead, peeling away from them and storming over to the nurses station, her grandmother and Iseult rushing to keep up. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The nurse led the three of them to her mother¡¯s room, an isolation room protecting her damaged immune system, she explained as they walked. It was all just background noise to Sym. There was a flurry of action inside her mother¡¯s room. A monitor making a chilling flat sound, an orderly handing the attending doctor a defibrillator. ¡®It''s useless,¡¯ she heard the defeated sigh of the nurse outside as she continued, not noticing Sym, ¡®she may as well have been dead when she came in.¡¯ Grandmother and Sym dropped Iseult off at her gated entrance. Her muted ¡®thanks¡¯ the only sound between the three of them the entire car ride. The return home was interrupted by an officer pulling them over for not making a complete stop at a sign. He cheerily wrote them a ticket, seemingly immune to the aura of solemnity in the vehicle. They pulled into their company subsidized parking spot, the hover dipping them down to land awkwardly, rather than the typical smooth landing of a well-maintained vehicle. It had been fine just a day ago. Everything was wrong. It was as if the entire world had missed a step on the staircase and had righted itself to be just a centimeter off. And that centimeter was Posao. Grandma turned off the ignition and they both just sat there, in the car, quietly, for a long time. ¡®What did you mean when you said it was your fault?¡¯ Sym eventually asked, breaking the silence. She had been replaying every moment of the last few hours on a continuous loop. So many things didn¡¯t make sense the way they should, but this one detail was the only one she could resolve right now. ¡®It¡¯s not your fault. It¡¯s not anyone¡¯s fault.¡¯ She repeated the platitude flatly. It was what someone was supposed to say when something like this happened, right? Grandmother stayed very quiet, and then as if letting out a breath she had held for too long she finally said, ¡®I lost my luck,¡¯ She took another slow breath before continuing, ¡®Ketsuri has always been my patron god, one night she came to me in a dream and asked to borrow just a little. And, fickle thing that she is, she ended up taking it all.¡¯ She swallowed, looking straight out the window, eyes unfocused as if staring into the past. ¡®I went to visit Posao today. I wanted to come clean about my¡­my problem. I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t just wait for her to come home, it just seemed so important at the time.¡¯ She dabbed at her tears with a tissue that was more water than cloth. ¡®It must have rubbed off on her, because as I was leaving I saw them wheeling her out.¡¯ Her voice cracked as if holding back a sob ¡®That¡¯s not real Grandmother. Ketsuri and the gods are just, just stories to give people something to hold on to when things go wrong.¡¯ At the back of her mind she questioned this, if they had found godseed, wouldn¡¯t that make the gods real? But at this moment she wanted desperately for it to have been just some mundane fossilized skull, interesting but not revolutionary. Grandmother shook her head. ¡®I¡¯ve always known Ketsuri would eventually want it back, what she gave me. When.¡¯ She stopped suddenly. ¡®Down in the cave,¡¯ she continued, firmly. ¡®I dreamed about her. I screamed at her, begged her, promised her things I shouldn¡¯t have. And it was when I said she owed me that she finally showed up. Said she would give me some of her luck, just a pinch. But she always says things like that. Just a pinch. Ha. What a joke. What is a little to a god. You know, part of why I gamble is because of her. Just want to check if her gift still works. I should have known I would notice if it wasn¡¯t.¡¯ She let out another strangled sob, her hand over her mouth. Sym wondered if her Grandmother had ever really left the cave. If her mind was the cave now, trapping her in an endless torment of darkness. She wished she could be her light, but she was trapped too, in this endless joke of a moment where her mother was mortal. There would be no more light in her world. Later, when she was going to bed, she checked the origami cochineal she had laid on the window sill all those nights ago with her prayer for Grandmother. The ink was still there, red as the night she painted it. She scoffed, it seemed Ketsuri truly had abandoned them both. When Sym woke the next morning the house was ghostly quiet. No Grandmother moving about in the kitchen, no sound at all in the apartment. An eerie premonition came to her. She bolted out of bed, sprinting out into the hall, and ripped open Grandmother¡¯s bedroom door with enough force that it bounced off the wall. Empty. And not just her bed, her closet was empty, her toiletries packed up, even her house slippers were no longer under the bed. Everything was gone. She stood in the doorway, still as stone, trying to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. Her Grandmother had left her. She had woken determined to eat, but she couldn¡¯t bear to go into the kitchen, it would be too full of memories of her. She went back to her room, too empty to do anything else, picking up the note that she had somehow stepped over, missing as she raced from her room. She lay on her rumpled bed, splayed out, eyes staring sightlessly up on the ceiling, the note clenched in her hand. She could guess what it said. She had never believed in gods. Not really. Not even the zombie king. But clearly Grandmother did. And so, she had been abandoned. Perhaps Grandmother didn¡¯t see it that way, saw it as protection instead. But Sym knew the truth. She would take all the bad luck in the world if it meant keeping her Grandmother, if it meant she wouldn''t leave her too. Chapter 8: The unwanted child A polite but firm knock echoed down the hall. Sym hadn¡¯t left her bed for several days. Nothing mattered. Everything worthwhile in the world was gone. Nothing was left. A key turned in the lock. No one but Iseult had a key to the house, and she definitely wouldn¡¯t knock before letting herself in. Sym was instantly wary. ¡®Sym, darling, are you here?¡¯ A voice she had only heard on occasion called. What was Veridia doing in her house? She could hear the polished click of Veridia¡¯s steps as she strode into the apartment, quickly scanning it for Sym. ¡®Ah! There you are!¡¯ she exclaimed, finding Sym, tightly wrapped in her blanket cocoon, wallowing in her den of depression. ¡®Hm. We¡¯re going to need to get you cleaned up before the production crew gets here.¡¯ She didn¡¯t wrinkle her nose, but it was a near thing. Sym felt her disgust as she gathered Sym¡¯s toiletries and towel, pushing them into her arms and shooing her into the shower. ¡®I¡¯ll make you something to eat, you look like you haven¡¯t eaten for days.¡¯ She laughed a little to herself. Sym narrowed her eyes, silently seething. The production crew arrived while Sym was still in the shower, though for what they were producing, Sym hadn¡¯t the faintest idea. She didn¡¯t find herself overly curious. Nothing mattered. Nothing would ever change that. ¡®Look darling, this dress is just perfect for you!¡¯ Veridia held up a white lace dress on a hanger in front of Sym, admiring how it looked against her long dark hair, then turning to comment to the production crew, ¡®and I think leaving it down will be good - give her a younger feel, she¡¯s still a child and she needs the care of a mother.¡¯ Sym was shocked into a reaction with that, how could she say something like that, knowing what she did! It was practically her fault and here she was making jokes about Sym needing a mother. She felt nausea spin in her stomach. She didn¡¯t have enough energy to be angry. Nothing mattered, she repeated to herself, tears forming. What did it matter if a psycho wanted to dress her up like a doll in nicer clothes than she had ever even looked at. Her body was nothing. Nothing mattered. A stylist came and began patting Sym¡¯s face with makeup, ¡®none of that now, don¡¯t want to ruin all my work,¡¯ she teased, drying up Sym¡¯s tears with a corner of a tissue. Sym clenched her jaw, keeping the rage locked tight inside her. Rage was bad, it filled her with fire, made her feel too much. She wanted that nothingness again. That perfect empty numb nothingness. Just like her Grandmother used to seek in the Casinos. ¡®A dedicated employee unfortunately perished in the accident, leaving behind her young daughter, Sym. Who will now be joining my family. I¡¯ve always wanted a daughter, though it''s unfortunate it had to happen under these circumstances.¡¯ Veridia was a skilled public speaker, Sym noted, with a detached interest. ¡®Smile darling,¡¯ Veridia whispered from the side of her mouth, just a little one for the camera.¡¯ She wrapped an arm around Sym, pulling her closer with a maneuver that portrayed her profile in just the way it did in every other photograph she had ever taken. ¡®Perfect, thank you, that will be all.¡¯ Veridia dismissed the production team, the holoscreen crew heading out with them. ¡®Now, it¡¯s just you and me darling. We¡¯re going to be such good friends.¡¯ It had been a week since Veridia had swung into her life like a wrecking ball. She had her own wing now, rather than just a tiny room. And a private bath with enough room to have a party with her entire classroom. And yet. She knew which home she preferred. Iseult had visited, bringing fruit and flowers, clearly uncertain what one brought for the bereaved, it was a kind, if ineffective gesture and Sym did her best to thank her, trying to summon some emotion for her oldest friend, the only one left that really cared for her. She regretted her jealousy now, would trade all the money in the world for her family back. But they were gone, and they would never never be back again. It still surprised her some mornings, she¡¯d wake up forgetting they were dead, and then it would hit her all over again, a shock so great if took her breath away. She hated those mornings, the false hope hurt too much, even if for a moment she could believe Mother and Grandmother were still alive. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Iseult''s gifts of Sym¡¯s old belongings were more welcome, Veridia had left them all behind, like they were trash, to be cleared out by the next tenants presumably. She had cried again while unpacking her Mother¡¯s clothes, sobbing over a dress that she had worn for one of the rare outings they had taken as a family. Grandmother¡¯s belongings were of course missing, the only memento she had of hers was the Ketsuri statue from the entryway, and she loved it as much as she hated it. ¡®Father took the skull.¡¯ Iseult brought news of the skull as well, though Sym had a harder time caring. ¡®He said it was just a strange rock formation in the bone, but that it might be an archeological find. He said he was going to donate it to the University.¡¯ Sym nodded anyway, accepting the fate of the head, despite Iseult¡¯s obvious disappointment. ¡®I tried to have you stay with me,¡¯ Iseult said, voice low, ¡®but Veridia insisted.¡¯ Sym grimaced, of course Veridia would, anything for her image. ¡®It¡¯s fine,¡¯ Sym had replied. Veridia had the paperwork all worked out before she had even come to Sym¡¯s door. Sym still wasn¡¯t sure how she got a key, Iseult hadn¡¯t been the one to give it to her. Veridia mostly left her to her own devices after giving her a tour. Hiru had still not made an appearance, most likely still out with Ira Faye, the thought didn¡¯t have the same bitterness it had before. She was a rock, granite like her Grandmother¡¯s tomb. Immobile, numb and nothing to a world indifferent to her. Indifferent to her Mother. Indifferent to her Grandmother, who Veridia had informed had been found dead in the mining tunnels, apparently having been camped out there. She hadn¡¯t left the cave after all, the painful thought crept into Sym¡¯s numb heart causing her eyes to itch with tears she didn¡¯t have left to shed. She hated herself, she eventually realized, for living with this woman, taking what she had to give. Veridia was the closest to a villain in the story of her Mother¡¯s death as she was to get. Grandmother may have blamed herself, but Sym blamed Veridia. Veridia and her secrets. She had discovered that Veridia had a great many secrets. Hushed, secret conversations with Iseult¡¯s father Gual. Late night lights coming from her home lab in the back of the house. Veridia was a woman with drive, but towards what end, she was unsure. On the night Hiru returned home Sym heard screams coming from Veridia¡¯s lab. Twisted inhuman things, only with Veridia¡¯s distinct timber. She couldn¡¯t help her curiosity, sometimes it felt like the only emotion she had left. As she snuck down the hallway she encountered Hiru, who raised a finger to his lips, hushing her without a word. She nodded her assent, and together they crept forward. Veridia was laying stomach down on a metal table, clutching thick leather strips, her back exposed to the air. And exposed in more than one way, Sym realized with horror and fascination. Hiru gasped quietly behind her. She would have shushed him, only there was no way they would have been heard over his mother¡¯s groans through the thick leather she was clenching her teeth around. ¡®Why doesn¡¯t she use a painkiller¡¯ she whispered to Hiru. He shrugged, his eyes still fastened to Veridia. Her back was flayed open like a dissectionist¡¯s specimen, the flaps of skin held open and pinned down with slender spikes, fixing her in place like one of the beautiful butterflies she kept in her greenhouse. Snacks for the carnivorous doves she nurtured, giving more attention to them than her wayward son. A tattooist sat crouched over her, inking something on the inside of her skin. Hiru gagged as Veridia gave another muffled scream, the tattooist''s iron pen skating across her opened flesh. He backed away before racing back down the hall. Sym could understand the response. If she wasn¡¯t numb, wasn¡¯t full of nothing she might have had the same reaction. Strange shadows formed underneath the table Veridia was held on, writhing and boiling until they took form. Long arms stretching out, reaching, stretching out all across the room as if to grasp hold. And they did. They grasped various equipment and reagents and whatever else they could, ripping it from where it lay and tearing apart. ¡®...And alllright. That¡¯s the last of it. It looks like they¡¯re working properly, you have control of them, right?¡¯ Veridia spit the saliva slick leather out with vehemence. Her voice was hoarse and cracked. ¡®Yeah, that was all me.¡¯ The glamor from her tone was gone, but her voice was the same. The tattooist began the arduous process of stitching her back up with quick but sure movement. The screams resumed. Sym backed away, unsure of what she had just witnessed. Chapter 9: A new normal The silence at the breakfast table was loud. Veridia and Sym usually dined together for breakfast and dinner, with lunch left to their own devices. Today was no different, only they were now joined by Hiru. Sym recalled the first time she had a meal with Veridia and how a hint of amusement cut through her steely indifference as she had noticed the golden silverware on the table. Hiru was as cowed as she had ever seen him, though that was unsurprising. Veridia let out a sparkling laugh. ¡®You both are so quiet this morning. Perhaps you saw something that shook you up? Something you shouldn¡¯t have?¡¯ She raised a glamorous eyebrow, its curve perfect and poised. Hiru mumbled into his granola, but Sym stared straight at Veridia, ¡®It¡¯s amazing that you¡¯re up this morning, I would have thought with what you went through you would have been out for a while,¡¯ Sym replied. Veridia paused a second, gauging Sym, taking her measure, before letting out another charming laugh. ¡®Oh Sym, aren''t you just darling. Hiru,¡¯ she barked, turning her attention to her son, ¡®why can¡¯t you be more like your sister?¡¯ Hiru finally looked up at Veridia, his eyes just as razor-sharp as his mother¡¯s ¡®she¡¯s not my sister.¡¯ Sym felt a strange twang in her heart at the prospect of being unwanted again. He didn¡¯t want her here. Veridia¡¯s lips quirked. ¡®She is what I say she is.¡¯ A muscle in Hiru¡¯s jaw tensed. His eyes flickered to Sym¡¯s for the briefest of seconds, some unidentifiable emotion in them before he looked back down. Veridia¡¯s eyes flicked to Sym. ¡®Do you want to know what it was you saw?¡¯ She asked. Sym paused, this felt like a trap. Was this a test to see her loyalty? Because she would fail that test, and she wasn¡¯t afraid for Veridia to know it. She raised her chin. ¡®Yes.¡¯ Hiru spoon paused over his bowl, looking up through his lashes, clearly curious as well. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Veridia hummed, thoughtful, before carefully continuing. ¡®You and your friend Iseult made a very curious discovery. I had been investigating godseed for a while, looking for it under the mountain in my mines, but you discovered it so easily underneath the city.¡¯ She paused, her face twisting into a grimace, ¡®and though it took sacrifice,¡¯ Sym thought of her screams last night, those twisted, inhuman sounds she had made as she was cut open, ¡®I came out able to wield it.¡¯ She paused again, this time in order to look intently at Sym, her eyes burning. Her shadow moved of its own accord, a hand, one of many from a wriggling mass, reaching out from behind her to pass Sym the salt for her eggs, shaking it gently over top of them. Her voice low throaty with passion, ¡®it will change everything.¡¯ Sym lay on her new bed, stretching her limbs out to reach the edges. She couldn¡¯t quite reach. It didn¡¯t have the same safe feeling her own bed had. And the sheets smelled all wrong. Everything was wrong. Her life was wrong. And Veridia wasn¡¯t the only one to blame. If the stories of the zombie king and godseed were real, couldn¡¯t Ketsuri be real as well? A cruel and indifferent goddess. Fickle, just like Grandmother had said. And she was completely at their whims, just like she was at Veridia¡¯s. She felt tears of impotence and rage tingle in the corners of her eyes, making their way through the haze of her indifference. There was so little she was in control of in her life. She got up and carefully took red ink from her new desk. She inked a message on the fine paper prepared for her use, folding it carefully into a cochineal beetle, her hands moving in just the way Grandmother had shown her, so long ago. She placed it on the opened window sill. She didn¡¯t have any wish, but she did have a lot of fury. Ketsuri, god of luck and bad endings should know she had made an enemy. Resources Cave ins https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11652513/North-Koreas-nuke-CAVES-Tunnels-collapse-Kim-Jong-Uns-main-source-uranium.html https://www.dol.gov/general/aboutdol/history/lbjsym98 https://whatifshow.com/how-to-survive-being-trapped-in-a-mine/ City planning https://interestingengineering.com/culture/primary-reasons-cities-built-where-they-now Claustrophobia https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/conditionsandtreatments/claustrophobia Cooking https://www.tasteofhome.com/collection/contest-winning-quick-dinner-recipes/ Disc disorder https://www.cedars-sinai.org/health-library/diseases-and-conditions/d/degenerative-disc-disease.html Gambling addiction https://www.helpguide.org/articles/addictions/gambling-addiction-and-problem-gambling.htm https://www.algamus.org/blog/subtypes-gambling-disorder https://www.gamblingsites.org/blog/11-reasons-why-gamblers-love-slot-machines-2/ Gaming https://www.pcgamer.com/pc-gaming-terms-and-their-true-meanings/ Induced coma https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/what-is-a-medically-induced-coma/ Isolation room https://healthy.kaiserpermanente.org/health-wellness/health-encyclopedia/he.hospital-isolation-rooms.abo4381 Mining https://acreditacion.uni.edu.pe/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/G3CP-21-3.pdf If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. https://mining.mines.edu/research/ Pop star https://www.peachprc.com/ https://globalnews.ca/news/8398374/concert-backstage-passes/ ??Radiation Sickness https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/radiation-sickness/symptoms-causes/syc-20377058 https://www.abc.net.au/news/science/2016-04-22/what-nuclear-radiation-does-to-your-body/7346324 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gamma_ray https://science.howstuffworks.com/radiation-sickness2.htm Settlements https://www.platteriverlaw.com/mining-accident-settlement/ Shot guns https://science.howstuffworks.com/shotgun.htm https://www.wikihow.com/Load-a-Shotgun https://www.ammoforsale.com/ammo-club/what-is-buckshot/ https://www.quora.com/What-makes-a-shotgun-so-devastating-at-a-close-range Single parenting https://www.medicinenet.com/how_does_single_parenting_affect_a_child/article.htm Underground cities https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/25403/quick-10-10-underground-cities https://bigthink.com/strange-maps/derinkuyu-underground-city/ https://www.quora.com/How-do-you-find-an-entrance-to-the-catacombs-of-Paris https://www.quora.com/Why-are-so-many-ancient-cities-buried-under-modern-cities-wouldnt-it-have-been-easier-to-just-tear-down-the-old-cities-to-build-new-ones-rather-than-bury-them Uranium mining https://www.epa.gov/radtown/radioactive-waste-uranium-mining-and-milling https://world-nuclear.org/information-library/nuclear-fuel-cycle/mining-of-uranium/uranium-mining-overview.aspx https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/ed008p1523 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_Rock_uranium_mill_spill https://www.cdc.gov/niosh/pgms/worknotify/uranium.html https://www.cdc.gov/niosh/pgms/worknotify/uranium.html https://world-nuclear.org/information-library/safety-and-security/radiation-and-health/occupational-safety-in-uranium-mining.aspx https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK201047/ https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK201047/ https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/chemistry/uranium-decay-series Zombies http://traumathreatandpublicsafetypsychology.com/blog/psychology-of-zombies ?Zombie games https://www.ign.com/articles/best-zombie-games https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_zombie_video_games Zombie movies https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0z4mxeTarU ??