《In Our Image》


 Volume 1 - Chapter 1

    We all know the story of how God created the universe. How before there was death, there was life; how, before our ancestors began descending from the trees, the angels resided in paradise; how before one-third of God¡¯s servants turned against him, there was the catalyst.


    Yes, most of us know of God and his works, but what many do not know is that before God commanded peace, there was war.


    Four thousand feet above the ancient jungle, an angel and a demon fought below an orange sky, exchanging blows and meeting blades, two primordial powers pushing and pulling for frail dominance.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Sariel?¡± The demon sneered at her companion, showing pointed teeth. ¡°You seem particularly slow today.¡±


    ¡°Quiet, Remiel.¡± Though his cold eyes remained unchanged, the quickening of the angel¡¯s movements did not escape the demon¡¯s notice. With lightning speed he brought his sword down, Remiel falling back with practiced ease to avoid certain death. Her grin widened, and Sariel clenched his teeth.


    ¡°Admit it, angel. You¡¯re slipping.¡± Her grip tightened around the hilt of her jagged blade. ¡°Sooner or later I¡¯m going to get the upper hand.¡±


    ¡°I am working in accordance with the will of our Father. He will not allow me to fail.¡±


    ¡°We both know that¡¯s not true. He has failed us before, and He will fail us again.¡± The sharpening of his eyes gave Remiel hope, and she shot forward, dark blade held high.


    Unfortunately for the demon, years of strife had deepened his perception of her actions. Before Remiel had even formed the thought, Sariel was dodging, rising into the air and leaving his adversary to strike at nothing.


    Wasting no time, the angel dove down at his rival in an attempt to finish his job before she recovered. His sword came down, the demon barely catching it in the spikes of her own, and Sariel pushed forward, registering the widening of her eyes before giving a final burst of force and sending her spiraling towards the ground.


    The fall was nowhere near as spectacular as her first, but it still culminated in a satisfyingly large impact on the forest floor, causing the earth to churn in protest. Smoke rose from the newly-created crater, obscuring the angel¡¯s view as he lowered himself to the ground. His feet crunched on broken stones and splintered wood, and he looked out for his adversary.


    ¡°It is over, demon. Cease your resistance and return with me to our Father. Accept your punishment, and your sins will be forgiven.¡±


    ¡°How many times did you practice that line before you came here, Sariel? It sounds nice, but I¡¯m afraid it lacks sincerity.¡±


    ¡°The word of the Lord is not a joke, Remiel. Our Father has offered you the chance to atone for your sins. I suggest you take it.¡±


    ¡°Aw, isn¡¯t that sweet of Him? Next time you see the old man, make sure you give Him a big hug for me, alright?¡±


    ¡°Enough. Give me your answer, or I will be forced to assume you wish to act against Him.¡±


    Sariel could practically feel the demon¡¯s grin through the shifting dust, and he stepped forward, not wishing to be blind to her further actions. She made no movement, but her voice slipped through the particles of dust like a serpent.


    ¡°No need to assume, old friend¡ªyou can take my answer directly to the source. No.¡±


    Before the words had even escaped her lips, Sariel could hear the crunching of her feet as she approached him. First one, then another, the steps grew closer together as Remiel broke into a run. Sariel raised his sword just as she burst out of the clearing haze and struck.


    Their blades and eyes met under the searing sun, Heaven and Hell¡¯s eternal struggle continuing in new hosts. Remiel stared at the angel through the fires of two worlds, her mouth forming words that could not be heard over the din of battle. Whatever it was she was saying, Sariel hoped she meant it.


    He turned away, resigning himself to never look at his former friend again, and moved to bring their seemingly God-forsaken struggle to an end. He twisted his arm, knocking the blade from the demons hand, and stepped behind her quickly¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to see her face as he carried out his orders. Holding his hand in the air, he steeled his voice, and recited the words he had never had reason to say.


    ¡°I am Sariel, Angel of Death and hand of God. As our Father heralded the beginning, so I herald your end.¡±


    Remiel stood still as he spoke, tensing her shoulders and preparing to flee, but Sariel knew that it was too late¡ªher time had come.


    And so had his.


    But, before Sariel carried out the Lord¡¯s righteous retribution, he opened his mouth, ready to voice the feeling he hoped they both shared.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    From the edge of the forest, the reaper watched as his friends fought for supremacy, attempting to carry out the wills of their respective masters as he prepared to carry out the will of his.


    He had been viewing their struggle from the moment it began, and although he had no idea in whose favor fortune would fall, he knew one thing¡ªit ended today.


    And end it did.


    The reaper stood the moment the angel raised his hand. Taking small steps toward the pair, he noticed the angel closing his eyes. He tightened his grip on his scythe. The curved blade of his tool shone, and his stomach filled with the slight tugging sensation he always experienced before doing his work. It was time.


    With a heavy heart, the reaper looked on as the powers of heaven and earth burst forth from Sariel¡¯s soul, channeling through his hand and into Remiel¡¯s back, directly between her broken wings. Her decrepit form, strong only a moment before, fell into the pit made upon her previous impact with a sickening thud.


    Death continued forward, and the angel turned to meet him. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, heavy with undistinguishable emotion.


    ¡°It¡¯s over. Remiel is dead.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Did you know? That today was the day?¡±


    ¡°He had a feeling.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Sariel opened his left hand, allowing his blade to disappear in the soft light of the evening. The reaper noted that his right hand had not moved since falling loosely to his side. When the angel noticed the object of his gaze, he closed his hands and attempted to change the topic.


    ¡°Have you come to collect her soul, then?¡±


    ¡°Those are my orders, although the choice of who delivers it to God lies with you.¡±


    ¡°Remiel was my responsibility. Release her soul, and I will handle taking it back.¡±


    The reaper shrugged, He had expected the answer, and so began to walk forward without a word. His scythe hummed in his hand, and when he turned to face it warmth spread from the handle and up his arms, a tinny voice echoing through his skull.


    Wait. He needs to see you.


    The reaper eyed his scythe curiously. The blade generally avoided talking to him while he was out in the world, so he knew the summons must be important.


    ¡°Can He wait for me to finish my job here, or is the summons immediate?¡±


    Immediate. He needs to speak with you now.


    Sighing, he turned to Sariel, ready to ask him to remain with the body until he returned. The words died when the blood hit his face.


    The angel, previously so tall and powerful, was now slumped, bent and broken over the spiked blade that had pierced his stomach. Behind him, barely visible, knelt the demon, supporting herself on the hilt of her bloody sword while flashing her sharp teeth in a grin. The constant buzz of the jungle was overcome by her laughter.


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    Eyes wide in disbelief, Sariel glanced back at the demon, trying and failing to choke out her name before falling forward. Remiel, still caught in her fit of uncontrollable laughter, slumped to the ground as well, and the sword dissolved in a gush of blood.


    ¡°Sariel!¡±


    The reaper rushed forward, his gaze alternating between the two beings, but the scythe turned to lead in his hands, holding him back from reaching his friends. He turned to look at his blade.


    ¡°What now?¡±


    We need to go.


    ¡°And we will, as soon as I help them. Now come on!¡±


    No. This is their fight, and it must end as it does without interference. You must leave them as they are and meet with Him. Now.


    The reaper turned away, fully intending to disobey, but when he saw the angel on hands and knees, blood dripping from his wound as he attempted to form words through cracked lips, and the demon lying crumpled at his feet with closed eyes, he knew it was too late. He cast his eyes to the ground.


    Death was his business, but, being human, it still had an effect on him. He didn¡¯t want to look at the bodies of his dying friends, but he forced himself to, focusing on their faces and holding back his emotions. Despite the regret it stirred in him, he stepped backwards.


    He wanted to say something¡ªapologize, say goodbye, anything¡ªbut the words wouldn¡¯t come. All he could do was look and hope that through their fading souls, they could sense what he felt. And with that, he rose into the darkening sky to meet with God, finally taking his eyes off of his old friends.


    He wouldn¡¯t see them again for over five hundred years.


    Remiel opened her eyes just in time to catch the reaper dematerializing in mid-air, obviously off to one of his all-important meetings with the Big Man. She briefly wondered what His reaction was to the embodiment of death attempting to save two beings¡ªone a demon, no less¡ªfrom dying, and hoped He wasn¡¯t too hard on him.


    But the wondering was brief¡ªshe had learned long ago that what is going to happen is going to happen, and no amount of hope will change that.


    Things run how God wants them to, and that¡¯s final.


    She ruminated on that for about three seconds, longer than usual, before turning to look at the fallen (ha) angel beside her. The sight of his blood continuing to spill out of his open wound gave her a small burst of pleasure, followed immediately by a similarly-sized pang of regret (which she quickly pushed away¡ªno need for that anymore). Mostly, she didn¡¯t feel anything at all, as she was too busy coming to terms with the fact that she was about to die.


    Of course, she had always known it would happen eventually, and she was glad that, if it had to be anyone, it was Sariel who did it. He was a relatively good adversary overall, and she much preferred dying to his blade than a divine strike of lightning or, even worse, that pretentious asshole Michael.


    She was still thinking about the various pros and cons of the events leading up to her death when she heard the first words leave the bloody lips of her formerly silent companion.


    ¡°G-god¡­God. H¡­help m-me.¡±


    His words made her smile, and she listened with piqued interest as he continued to talk to nothing and no one, his voice rising in volume with each word.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me d-die. Not now. I-I have done your work¡­Lord. I defeated her. I carried out your orders! I¡¯ve been your servant¡­and yet you leave me to die? Leave us both to die! Is this all I was meant for, to be used as a tool before being disposed of? Her me, Lord! Answer me!¡±


    By the time Sariel had finished, collapsing on the ground, breathless, Remiel could no longer contain her laughter. Although it caused her great pain to even chuckle, the hilarity of the situation brought forth a roar straight from her diaphragm, making her body shake from both joy and pain.


    When she had calmed down enough to form a coherent sentence, she wiped the tears from her eyes and glanced at the angel.


    ¡°He¡¯s not going to listen. You know that, right?¡±


    Sariel deigned it unnecessary to respond. Instead, he turned his head, dragging his face in the dirt until he was looking at her, and posed his own question.


    ¡°My soul is slipping away, Remiel, and I¡¯m sure yours is, too. Our time in this world is almost exhausted. Before we go, I want you to answer one question.¡±


    She didn¡¯t need to ask what it was, but she did anyway.


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Remiel smiled.


    ¡°Why? Because I wanted to, Sariel. I desired to leave, and so I did. Simple as that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s as I thought. Such a trivial reason, and yet¡­sometimes I wonder if maybe you were right.¡±


    The angel¡¯s dark eyes darkened further, and he was left staring into the soulless earth. The demon couldn¡¯t be sure he was gone, but she could take a good guess.


    Quiet jungle closing in around her, Remiel stared at the sky. Through the haze, a pure white parrot fluttered from the trees, soaring through the air in an easygoing glide, a symbol of purity sure to inspire awe in the humans below. Sariel would have liked it. Remiel, though her eyes were closing, and though she knew he couldn¡¯t hear her, decided to respond to Sariel¡¯s final statement.


    ¡°Me too.¡±


    * * *


    It was bright, an unearthly sort of bright that seemed to burn through you, intertwining with every aspect of your being until it became as much a part of you as your soul. My eyes opened. I stood up.


    It was bright, and colors swam through my vision, filling my eyes with flashes of life, of creation, of everything that I had ever known. I took a step forward. I turned my gaze.


    They were there.


    They were walking away from me, reaching their hands out as if to touch the energy which had collected in the air around us. Like the realm we inhabited, they were impossibly bright, so bright it almost hurt to look in their direction. I looked down.


    They were bright, but so was I.


    In the middle of a sea of light, we shone, sending forth a familiar radiance that I could not place.


    Where was I, who was I? Who were they, what were we doing there?


    I don¡¯t know.


    It was bright, and a voice as glowing as the world I found myself in echoed in the back of my head. Go.


    I took a step forward. I didn¡¯t know where I was, or who I was, but still I moved forward. Still, I advanced.


    Go.


    I ran.


    Go.


    I stood beside them. I looked at them, and they looked back.


    Go.


    It was bright. So bright that nothing in existence could compare. Even so, the two of us stepped forward together, and entered a world brighter than either of us could have ever imagined.


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    Author''s Note: Hope you guys enjoy this story! Remember to comment or rate to let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 2

    ¡°Aaaassheerrrr!!!!¡±


    Her voice travelled through the air, bouncing off of the clouds, clanging from the sidewalk, and shattering through the window until it reached my ears with a screech. I opened my eyes.


    ¡°Aaaaasheeeeer!!!!!!!¡±


    Surely it was the voice of an angel, sent from the high heavens to pull me from my slumber, get me ready for the day ahead. A heavenly herald of my very own.


    Yeah.


    Her yells continued to crash through my room, disrupting the ordered peace I had worked so hard to attain. Luckily, years of practice had left me with the outstanding ability to tune her out, no matter her volume or proximity, and that¡¯s exactly what I did.


    Pushing myself out of bed, I sighed as that golden voice slid past my closed-off ears before walking the two feet to my window. With great effort, I opened it. Sweet autumn air reached my face, but the voice came up stronger than ever.


    It was getting hard to ignore.


    My eyes moved to the ground in front of my house, and though they were groggy and full of sleep, they easily caught sight of Cat, standing there with her arms waving around. I stared, enraptured, at the divine figure who had instigated my awakening, and between her words, I sent down some of my own.


    ¡°Hey, Cat. Shut up.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡±


    Her response came immediately, and was, of course, also shouted, but accompanied with a thumbs up. I guess, to her, that made the volume more acceptable.


    I turned and walked back into my room.


    You may be wondering why I was so harsh on her, but that¡¯s only because you don¡¯t know Cat. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯d be happy to fix that.


    Honestly, you can get anything and everything you need to know about Cat just from her appearance, which is a feat in and of herself¨CI¡¯d even go so far as to say it¡¯s a trait unique to her. That being the case, I guess I should fill you in on her looks. Trust me, everything else will fall into place from there.


    First thing to mention: her hair, which is completely, undeniably weird. The best way that I can think of to describe it is as the color of a cherry dipped in a molten fire engine, swooping almost to her shoulders with two small pieces poking out over her ears.


    Second thing to mention: everything else. Compared to her hair, everything else about Cat is pretty average, I guess¨Cwild brown eyes that never seem to stop moving, lips always parted to reveal a sharp-toothed smile, pale skin, open hands, and a solar-powered voice box that never stops running.


    And with that you basically know everything there is to know about Cat, plain and simple. I know it sounds odd, but it¡¯s true, and you should see what I mean soon.


    Well, now that that¡¯s out of the way, back to me.


    After I walked away from the window, everything went surprisingly quiet for a few minutes, giving me just enough time to get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, and read the paper before cutting through the small hall that lead outside and exiting my house.


    ¡°Asher!¡±


    Cat called to me the moment my door began swinging on its hinges, and was standing directly in front of me by the time it had opened, blocking my view of the world outside. She leaned forward, sending the bag in her hand shaking and rattling.


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    ¡°You ready?¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s not¨Cthat¡¯s why he¡¯s wearing his uniform and carrying his bag.¡±


    Miller appeared out of nowhere, stepping into my yard from the sidewalk and shaking his head. Although I knew my friend had planned to meet us in the morning to walk to school, as usual, I hadn¡¯t noticed his arrival. While Cat stands out, from her hair to her personality, Miller fades into the background seamlessly¨Chis short stature, average light brown hair and disinterested eyes combining to make him almost completely unnoticeable.


    But Cat noticed him and, stepping back, threw her arm forward, pointing her finger in his face. Miller didn¡¯t flinch.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your sarcasm, Miller. Now get off of my lawn!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re on Asher¡¯s lawn.¡±


    ¡°Well, get off of Asher¡¯s lawn, then!¡± she retorted quickly, her face displaying an insane amount of emotion for someone getting upset at a guy standing on a specific patch of grass. Miller¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change.


    Their standoff seemed like it was going to last a while, but I began to contemplate walking away relatively quickly¨Cthere was no way I was letting myself be late just to watch them have a staring contest¨Cbut, as I should have expected, it ended as quickly as it started.


    Cat¡¯s gaze, so intensely focused on Miller only a moment ago, shot in a different direction like lightning. I followed her gaze, curious to see what had so enamored her, but there didn¡¯t seem to be anything of interest. I glanced back at Cat.


    ¡°What are you looking at?¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Cat, did you hear m¨C¡±


    ¡°Shh! There¡¯s a frog there!¡±


    Quieting me by shouting herself, huh? Typical.


    Miller tried next. ¡°Okay. What¡¯s so great about a frog?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect ignorant brutes like you two to understand. Now, be quiet. I¡¯m going to try to catch it.¡±


    She bounded away towards a small green frog sitting on the sidewalk, but as soon as she did so, the animal turned and caught sight of its pursuer. Its eyes filled with fear, it jumped straight into traffic.


    Needless to say, Cat followed without hesitation.


    The screeching of cars melded with her shouts of glee. Mouths open, Miller and I watched as Cat flew through traffic, launching off of car roofs, flipping around in the air, and landing in a perfect roll on the other side before pushing herself up and continuing to give chase.


    And what had spurred her into action? What had caused her to engage in an acrobatic feat so outstanding that, had the right person been there, would have landed her a free ticket to the Olympics?


    A frog.


    It¡¯s been six years, and I still have no idea how that girl works, or how it got to the point that, when our friend had just jumped over traffic and into the wet forest to chase a frog in a manner that couldn¡¯t have been anywhere near humanly possible, Miller and I simply turned and walked to school.


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    Author''s Note: Short chapter, but there is definitely more to come. Stay tuned, and don''t forget to comment or rate if you like the story!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 3

    Miller and I made it to school about fifteen minutes after leaving Cat behind¨Cwhen she¡¯s not with us, our amount of time fooling around drastically decreases, and we cut our travel time nearly in half. It was an odd experience, walking through the gates and not encountering a wave of latecomers, with whom we¡¯re usually included, but I¡¯d have to say I enjoyed it. Leisurely, we headed to our homeroom.


    The halls were nearly empty, and the few people who were there paid me no attention, a refreshing change from the usual routine. Cat tends to draw quite a bit of attention naturally, and so it¡¯s often hard to avoid the curious gaze of my peers.


    But that morning I was invisible, and it made me happy.


    We stepped through the door to our classroom. Despite the emptiness of the hall, the room was almost full¨Ca class of early birds, I guess. I moved towards my seat by the window, no one even glancing in my direction as Miller and I made our way through. Our teacher greeted us as we walked past, and we returned the gesture. Completely normal, completely quiet.


    It was surreal.


    When we got to our seats, I saw that our friend Ayame was already there, although I hadn¡¯t expected anything different. Ayame¡¯s a star student¨Ctop of the class, and it¡¯s president. Of course she had come to school early. I took my seat, pulling my chair out from under the desk, and sat down.


    ¡°Good morning, guys,¡± Ayame said as we started getting our books out. ¡°Why are you here so early?¡±


    I¡¯m sure she knew the answer, but she asked the question anyway, most likely wondering what had kept Cat from school this time. Her expression hadn¡¯t changed, but I¡¯d known Ayame long enough to catch the spark of curiosity in her eyes¨Cshe¡¯s too polite to say it, but Ayame is as interested in Cat¡¯s escapades as the rest of us.


    ¡°Cat saw a frog on the way here and ran after it. She told us to go on without her.¡±


    ¡°The walk¡¯s not as long without her,¡± Miller chimed in. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here so early.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± She eyed the clock absentmindedly. ¡°Well, I hope she gets here on time. Any more late days and she¡¯s going to get in trouble.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t really anything to respond to that¨Cwe all knew how close Cat was to getting a disciplinary referral, although whether or not she did is questionable¨Cand I looked out the window. On the path outside of the school gates, getting steadily closer, was a literal column of dust, a shock of red hair at its epicenter.


    No surprises there.


    ¡°Cat¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    Miller and Ayame turned to the window, but were late enough that they only caught the clearing dust. Ayame raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°Was that her?¡±


    Her answer came in the form of an opening door and Cat walking into the room, breathing a little heavily but otherwise fine. The frog was on her head, glancing fearfully around the unfamiliar room and garnering quite a bit of attention from the members of the class, who immediately flocked around Cat and began asking questions, all while remarking how cute the animal was.


    The three of us, who were some of the only students not bombarding Cat with questions about the origins of the frog, stared in awe. Thankfully, our teacher had the good sense to break up the gathering quickly, sending everyone back to their seats. Cat marched towards us proudly, and sat down in front of Ayame.


    She turned wildly to face us, nearly sending the frog flying off of her head. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the creature.


    ¡°You guys notice anything different?¡±


    None of us answered at first, expecting the question to be rhetorical, but it soon became clear that Car wanted a response. i sighed and took on teh responsibility.


    ¡®You got the frog.¡±


    She nodded vigorously.


    ¡°Yep. I named him Frogger!¡±


    ¡°Frogger¡­¡±


    That wasn¡¯t a bad name, really, but when I went to tell her that I found Cat was no longer listening. She had instead taken the frog off of her head and begun to play with him, lifting him up and down and petting his head.


    Miller and Ayame reached over and ended up petting it, too, and I couldn¡¯t blame them¨Cthe frog was pretty cute. The only thing about its presence that worried me was the possibility of other members of the class coming to look at it again and crowding around me. I don¡¯t know if I could have handled that.


    Luckily for me, though, the teacher decided to start class at that moment, ignoring the frog and absorbing us in study.


    The steady rhythm of the day began: we were given notes to copy and then review, and then we switched classes. Next, a test and worksheets. Switch. Project, and then switch.


    Before I knew it, lunch had come, and Cat was rushing off to introduce Frogger to everyone in class individually. Her lunch remained untouched as Miller and I played a game of tic-tac-toe and Ayame read through her notes.


    Cat returned just in time to eat her lunch in one big bite, and we continued.


    More classes passed similarly¨CAyame and I taking all of the notes, Miller writing down only what he needed to know, and Cat playing with her frog¨Cand then the day was over. My classmates began filing out of the room, and I packed up my things.


    I went to throw my bag over my shoulder, but was stopped before I could by a vice grip on my wrist. Cat, who had jumped over her seat without me noticing, was pulling both Miller and me towards the door, Frogger hanging precariously off of her forehead.


    ¡°Come on, guys! We¡¯ve got to show Frogger to the rest of the world!¡±


    My resistance seemed futile, and I eventually consented to letting her drag me around the school, but as she pulled me forward my leg caught on a desk and my wrist slipped free of her grip.


    I had escaped.


    Miller, however, wasn¡¯t so lucky, and Cat continued to drag him along as he staggered on the hard floor of the classroom. His shoes offered no traction on the slippery surface, and he and Cat shot through the door in a red and brown blur.


    I breathed a sigh of relief, believing I had dodged a bullet, but at that moment her figure appeared again in the doorway. My body tensed up, and I was convinced she had come back for me.


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    Instead, she simply pointed.


    ¡°Asher, I almost forgot. You still need to ask Ayame.¡±


    And she shot off again.


    Ayame turned to me questioningly, and I let my hand drop to my side and rest on the handle of my bag.


    ¡°How about we head out. I¡¯ll explain on the way.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    She gathered up her books quickly and, side by side, we left the room.


    Once in the hall, Ayame looked at me, her eyes voicing the question I had been expecting. I wondered briefly why Cat always put me in these situations, especially when the question involved her more than it did me, but in the end I gave it up. i couldn¡¯t keep Ayame in the dark for too long.


    ¡°Cat and her parents are taking a trip to Italy two days from now, and they invited us to come. Cat wanted me to extend the invitation to you, as well.¡±


    Ayame looked at the ground, and I worried that she was upset I had asked so late. When she looked up, though, I was surprised to find that she was smiling.


    ¡°Thank you for asking, but I won¡¯t be able to go. I have to study, and a trip like that would take up too much time.¡±


    The news was a little disappointing, but it wasn¡¯t exactly unexpected. I readjusted the strap of my bag, and continued.


    ¡°Sorry I didn¡¯t ask you earlier. Maybe we can go somewhere together when we get back¨Csomething a little closer.¡±


    ¡°That sounds nice.¡± She smiled again. ¡°The four of us will have to talk about it more when you get back.¡±


    I returned her smile and we continued to walk in a comfortable silence. There were three others in the hall with us¨Ctwo friends at their lockers and a boy from our class walking behind us¨Cbut it didn¡¯t feel like it. From the lack of noise, I could have sworn we were the only two there.


    Or, at least, we were the only two there for a minute, because it was at that point that Cat came running back at us through the hall.


    She made it to the pair of us in a flash but, rather than stop, she was forced to keep going by her own momentum. I watched in silence, expecting her to run into a wall or locker to come to a stop.


    What actually happened, however, was much worse¨Cat least for one person.


    Sneakers pounding on the ground, Cat dug her foot into the floor and launched herself into the air with ease. Like a bullet, she flew past, feet first, right into the boy behind us.


    He let out a grunt of pain as the sole of her shoes dug into his stomach, and they toppled to the ground.


    Ayame and I stood for a moment in shocked silence, before rushing the the scene of the crime. By the time we reached the fallen body, Cat had already gotten up, her hair disheveled and clothes twisted around her body in a perplexing way, but otherwise alright, as expected.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m okay.¡± She smiled as if she¡¯d just one the lottery, rather than possibly ruptured every single one of a classmate¡¯s internal organs.


    ¡°It¡¯s not you we¡¯re worried about.¡±


    Cat arched her eyebrows, as if she didn¡¯t know what I could mean, but I think she got the point when Ayame and I kneeled down to tend to the boy. She joined us on the ground while I pulled the boys shirt up to assess the damage.


    Amazingly, all that was there to be seen was a light red imprint of the sole of Cat¡¯s shoe, and even that seemed to be fading away quickly.


    Simply put, he got lucky.


    But still, his eyes remained closed, and Ayame had to reach out and gently shake his shoulder to get any kind of reaction out of him. He opened his eyes and looked at the three of us, a confused expression spreading across his face.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I ran into you. Sorry.¡±


    Cat¡¯s answer was blunt, as was her apology, but I can¡¯t say it didn¡¯t come with its own brand of charm. At least with her you always know you¡¯re going to get the truth.


    I was in the middle of thinking about this¨CI¡¯m sure I was positively beaming at her semi-mature act of apologizing¨Cwhen Cat put her hand under the boy¡¯s armpits and stood up, pulling him with her.


    His head rolled, sending his curly hair falling over his face, and he was forced to lean on Cat to stay standing. Unfortunately for him, she didn¡¯t offer him much in the way of support, instead sending him staggering forward with a ¡°friendly¡± slap on the back. He was somehow able to catch himself, and even turned to thank us again before walking away.


    ¡°See you later!¡± Cat called after the boy, and he raised a hand in goodbye before turning a corner and disappearing.


    Ayame and I stood in silence. I can¡¯t tell you what she was thinking, but I know at that moment I was considering revoking my mental comments on Cat¡¯s maturity. In the end, though, I wasn¡¯t able to find a correlation between physical insensitivity and immaturity, and I let Cat keep my mental praise. Barely.


    Cat turned to us, smiling again.


    ¡°Well, should we get going? Miller has Frogger, and I don¡¯t want to leave them alone for too long.¡±


    The question snapped Ayame out of her silence.


    ¡°Oh, sorry, but I have a student council meeting today. i¡¯m not going to be able to follow you out.¡±


    Ah, that¡¯s right, it was Thursday, wasn¡¯t it? I¡¯d forgotten about her meeting, but really, she¡¯s involved in so many after school activities, it¡¯s hard to keep track of just when she can and can¡¯t walk home with us.


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s too bad,¡± Cat said. ¡°It won¡¯t be as fun without you.¡±


    Ayame gave Cat an apologetic smile, the fact that it wasn¡¯t necessary only increasing the sweetness of the gesture. That smile still on her face, Ayame readjusted her books, indicating that it was time for her to go. I decided not to keep her any longer.


    ¡®Alright, then, I guess we had better go. We¡¯ll see you later.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yep, I¡¯ll see you on Monday. Have fun on your trip.¡±


    Cat and I thanked her, and waved goodbye as we walked away through the empty halls.


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


    Author''s Note:  Some school antics and buildup this chapter. Let me know what you think!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 4

    There was no one around, everyone having either already gone home or to other parts of the school to take part in various activities, which allowed Cat to move even faster than usual. In no time at all, she had left me behind, speeding through the empty corridor and laughing.


    I thought she might leave the building without me, but after a few minutes she reappeared, running towards rather than away from me, and for a second I feared we would have a repeat of the incident with that random kid a few minutes earlier.


    Thankfully, however, we both stopped before that happened, and Cat instead moved to my side, matching my pace.


    ¡°So, looks like things didn¡¯t work out with you and Ayame.¡± She cocked her head to the side and spoke with a voice laced with confidence, as if she was 100% certain what she was saying was a fact.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. If she had been trying to make a point, it flew right over my head.


    Cat seemed genuinely surprised that I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°You asked Ayame to go to Italy with you, and she said no.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask Ayame to go to Italy with me, I asked her to go with us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Asher, you don¡¯t have to explain anything to me.¡± She gave me a sympathetic look. ¡°I know how tough it can be to deal with rejection.¡±


    ¡°But I wasn¡¯t even¨C¡±


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t she coming, anyway?¡± Cat asked, completely cutting off my attempt to explain the situation to her. I decided to let it drop.


    ¡°She has to study.¡±


    ¡°She sure does study a lot, huh?¡±


    ¡°Well, it is important.¡±


    ¡°So is having fun.¡±


    She didn¡¯t elaborate, and we reached the main entrance before I was able to come up with a response. We opened the doors, and Cat rushed over to Miller¨Cor, more likely, her frog¨Cwhile I joined them at a more reasonable pace.


    ¡°Hey, you ready to get out of here?¡± Miller was leaning against the building, the frog in his hands, but Cat relieved him of the responsibility quickly. He wiped his hands on his pants, and pushed off of the wall.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go,¡± I said, and Miller and I began to take our usual route to Cat¡¯s house.


    We didn¡¯t make it five feet before she stopped us.


    ¡°Wait! You guys don¡¯t need to walk today!¡±


    Miller turned before I did, and called back ¡°Why not?¡±


    As soon as Cat said that we didn¡¯t have to walk, I had a feeling that I knew what she meant, although I hoped I was wrong. While she was opening her mouth to respond, I was ending up prayers to every god that I knew of that she hadn¡¯t done what I thought she did.


    Of course, the prayers went unanswered.


    ¡°I called Genji!¡±


    She produced a cell phone from her pocket, as if to prove to us that she had indeed gone through with the act, but it wasn¡¯t necessary¨CI could already hear his wheels howling in the distance.


    About five seconds after Cat broke the news to us, the blazing red luxury van appeared, flying through a final turn before coming to a screeching halt at the main gate. The driver¡¯s door opened and a young man stepped out, taking puffs from the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he pulled on his work gloves. He caught sight of us and walked forward with a lopsided grin.


    Miller and I let a=out some harmonious groans while the driver approached and waved at him happily. This was going to be painful.


    Now, before he makes his appearance, I want to give you a little more information on Genji¨CI feel it¡¯s only fair you have a little time to prepare.


    Genji is, at his core, a parent¡¯s worst nightmare. He has shaggy dark hair that¡¯s probably never seen a comb in its life, a beard that doesn¡¯t seem to be able to decide whether or not it wants to take hold on anything other than his chin, and a grin that never disappears. He smokes for no other reason than he thinks it¡¯s cool¨CCat¡¯s told me that when it¡¯s only the two of them he doesn¡¯t even glance at the box¨Cand, most annoyingly, he¡¯s always blasting metal music on the radio.


    And that¡¯s just the surface.


    When you actually get to know Genji, you find out that he loves to tease, poke, and prod. Granted, it¡¯s all lighthearted, and he follows it up with the assertion that he¡¯s joking, but that doesn¡¯t stop it from being a pain to deal with. Overall, he¡¯s an irresponsible guy with a grating personality¨Cthe kind of person you just know will drive him and his friends to a bridge for an impromptu bungee-jumping session.


    So, naturally, Cat¡¯s parents hired him as their daughter¡¯s chauffeur.


    Although, personally, I prefer to think of him as more of a licensed safety hazard than a chauffeur. There isn¡¯t an inch of responsibility about him, and I don¡¯t believe he deserves the title.


    But, questionable parental decisions aside, Genji is a pretty annoying guy, and makes sure to take every chance he has to get under my skin. Today was no exception.


    Clambering up the steps towards the gate, gloved hand sliding effortlessly along the metal railing, he made it to us and sunk into a low bow, grinning at the ground.


    ¡°Good evening, Miss Catriona. How may I be of assistance to you today?¡±


    Give me a break. His voice was level, reverent, and full of poise¨Cobviously, he was putting on a show to look better to Cat.


    And she bought every minute of it.


    ¡°Hello, Genji. I have a very important mission for you today¨Cwe have a new passenger, and it¡¯s up to us to make sure he has a safe ride home and doesn¡¯t jump away.¡±


    Genji nodded his head religiously, obviously filled with an intense determination to do his duty as a working man, go back to Cat¡¯s place, and await his paycheck. He rose again into a standing position.


    Don¡¯t worry, Miss, we¡¯ll get him home safe and sound. I¡¯ve never lost a frog in my career, and I do not plan on starting today.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then let¡¯s get home!¡±


    Cat raced to the car with Genji, and Miller and I lagged behind, dreading the coming trop. As we moved, Miller leaned in, whispering as quietly as he could.


    ¡°i know she¡¯s talking about not letting the frog jump and everything, but if it does, shouldn¡¯t she take that as an indicator that it doesn¡¯t wan¨C¡±


    He was never able to finish¨CCat, despite being far ahead of us, was somehow able to catch Miller¡¯s secret blasphemy, and quickly turned to face him with cold eyes. Unfortunately for Miller, he was still turned towards me, and was completely oblivious to the fiery figure approaching as he talked.


    That is, he was oblivious up until the point that she appeared in front of him, hand outstretched, the fingernail of her pointer finger making contact with her thumb. He had hardly had time to notice her presence before she let her finger fly, flicking him square on the forehead.


    Miller¡¯s eyes grew wide, and he fell back onto the ground with a soft thud and flailing legs. He lay on his back, eyes closed, while Cat pushed the frog to her face.


    ¡°it¡¯s okay, Frogger. He¡¯s just a cynic¨CI know that you won¡¯t run away.¡±


    I stared disbelievingly at Cat for a moment, marvelling at the fact that she had sent two guys to the brink of unconsciousness in the span of twenty minutes, but I pulled myself away and focused my attention on Miller¨Che needed it more. Kneeling at his side, I looked at his chest, waiting for the familiar rise and fall of breath, but there was none.


    ¡°Cat¡­.I think you killed him.¡±


    She blinked, and stared down at the limp form of our friend, seeming almost as if she was about to apologize. Of course, that¡¯s not what she did, choosing instead to deliver a swift kick to his side, sending, sending him reeling and sputtering, breath exploding out of his mouth. Cat mouth spread in a relieved smile.


    ¡°See, he¡¯s fine.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t convinced, and apparently neither was Miller, who had begun to cough and stir on the ground. His eyes were closed, and he let out a low groan.


    ¡°Not cool¡­..¡±


    ¡°You alright?¡± I asked, but I¡¯m not sure if he heard me. While I was shaking him, trying to pull him from the void, I felt a pressure on my head, and looked up to see Genji grinning down at me while using my head as an armrest.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, old man. Shorty¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Disregarding his shameless use of both his nickname for me and Miller and the same sentence, I continued to check on Cat¡¯s victim, whose eyes were finally open. Genji¡¯s grin grew wider as I helped him to his feet.


    ¡°So, Shorty, how are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Shut it, Mazawa,¡± Miller grumbled. Surprisingly, Genji actually did¨Che hates his family name, and whenever Miller or I use it he tends to quiet down for a while.


    In this case, he was silent only for a few seconds before he opened his mouth and aimed, ready to fire a response, but my luck finally prevailed and Cat stopped him, saying that she and Frogger were ready to go.


    Bound by both loyalty and monetary obligation, Genji obliged, leading Cat to the van.


    I helped Miller up, and the two of us moved forward at a crawl, eventually making it to the van and sitting down. Cat, already buckled in the passenger seat, turned around quickly.


    ¡°You boys ready?¡±


    We simply nodded and, after getting the go ahead from Cat, Genji turned the key in the ignition, beginning our ride to Cat¡¯s house.


    It was rough, a fact which wasn¡¯t helped by Genji¡¯s speed and the volume of his music, but we made it, sliding through the open gates and onto the certifiably massive grounds of Cat¡¯s house. Unsurprisingly, the close proximity to Cat¡¯s parents did wonders for Genji¡¯s driving, and he crawled masterfully through the intricate maze of pavement and shrubbery and towards the building.


    Cat¡¯s home has always amazed me, on many levels. For one, the thing is huge¨Cit could easily fit twenty copies of my house inside of the building alone¨Cand is a complete architectural marvel, drawing on styles from Gothic to post-modern and back again in a surprisingly intriguing mosaic. Along with the unique style of the building, there¡¯s also a gigantic amount of people who work at the house, tending the grounds, making food, and completing a multitude of other tasks.


    And that¡¯s just on the surface.


    Simply put, the place is outrageous and over the top, but what else would you expect from Cat¡¯s house?


    Needless to say, as we approached the mansion, Miller and I kept our eyes glued above the hedgerow at all times, taking in both the natural and fiscal beauty of the place.


    Cat, on the other hand, was fully focused on the ground. A blaring smile lighting up her face, she stuck her hand out of the window and waved at the figures idling by outside of the vehicle. Without exception, each one waved back, and Cat continued to interact with them as we drove, calling out names and even asking questions about their personal lives.


    I don¡¯t know how she does it.


    Genji soon pulled up to the front porch of the house (carved from pure marble), and I pushed open the door of the van in relief.


    ¡°See ya, Shorty. Old man.¡± That was all Miller and I got from Genji in terms of a goodbye, while Cat got a tip of his hat, a winning smile, and a ¡°Good day, Miss.¡±


    He then rolled off, and Cat waved until the van could no longer be seen among the tall plants and trickling fountains that littered the grounds. Finally, she turned back to us.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get inside,¡± she said, and led us through tall oak doors double my height. As soon as Cat¡¯s foot hit the hard floor, three servants, ranging from about twenty years old to at least sixty, flanked us, emerging from a room that I always forget exists.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Out of the three identically-dressed workers, only the young guy paid any attention to Miller and me, having not been around long enough to realize the value of pandering to Cat. With a bright smile, he approached us.


    ¡°Hello, you two! It¡¯s good to see you again, would you like me to hold your bags?¡±


    Amidst the onslaught of words shooting out of his mouth like his tongue were the trigger to a fully-automatic rifle, I tried to collect my thoughts and form a cohesive response, which turned out to be harder than I thought.


    Generally, I¡¯m pretty good at turning down requests, but this wasn¡¯t exactly an average case. The guy¡¯s bombardment of greetings and questions right from the start had caught me off guard, put me at a disadvantage right from the get-go. Because of this, as he took my bag from my hands, smiling the entire time, I was still stuck on trying to remember his name (Anderson? Richards?), and remained oblivious to his actions.


    They were already gone, rushing off to the guestroom with both Miller and my belongings, before I came to again. I glanced around with a dazed expression, mouth slightly open.


    ¡°It was Lyell¡­.¡± I muttered finally, watching his finely polished pair of shoes turn around the corner.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Miller turned to me slowly. His eyebrows were raised in such a questioning manner that I was tempted to explain myself, but even I could tell that would be pointless.


    Instead, I replied ¡°It¡¯s nothing. How about we go to our room?¡±


    Miller responded with a shrug and began to follow me past Cat, who was explaining in the most animated way possible the preparations that would need to be made to allow her frog to live there.


    I only caught a snippet of the description, but it was enough to know that the frog would never be wanting for comfort, and was probably going to have more money spent on it than a professional sports team.


    Oh, well, good for it, I guess.


    Even so, I didn¡¯t want to end up standing there for an hour listening to frog-talk, and got Cat¡¯s attention with a tap on the shoulder.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to go to our room now,¡± I said, motioning to Miller. ¡°We¡¯ll see you in a little bit.¡±


    We began to walk away together, just wanting to get to our room and, in my case, take a break from the seemingly endless activity of the day but, of course, Cat had other things in mind.


    ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t leave yet!¡± she called, causing Miller and I to, against our better judgement, turn around.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Miller asked.


    ¡°My parents are here. They love it when you two visit, and it¡¯ll just break their hearts if you don¡¯t come and say hello.¡±


    Neither of us said anything, but we stayed behind, silently agreeing to see them. Surprisingly, the conversation was over within a minute, and Cat moved next to us.


    ¡°Okay, you guys wanna go see mom and dad now?¡±


    ¡°Could you not talk about them like they¡¯re all of our parents?¡± Miller asked. ¡°It¡¯s awkward.¡±


    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°Fine. Do you want to go see my parents now, Miller?¡±


    He simply shrugged in response, which only exasperated Cat further. As she took a step forward, planning I don¡¯t know what, I decided it was time to intervene.


    ¡°How about we stop talking about it and just do it?¡± I suggested, catching both of their attention just long enough to prevent something bad from happening. ¡°I¡¯d like to talk to your dad, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right, he just got back from his conference, didn¡¯t he?¡± Miller blinked, turning towards Cat. ¡°How was it?¡±


    ¡°Good¡­probably,¡± Cat said, looking at the ceiling as if the question hadn¡¯t occurred to her. ¡°i don¡¯t know for sure¨Cmom and dad¡¯s work isn¡¯t really that interesting to me.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡±


    Miller let it drop, but I could sense a tiny amount of disappointment in his voice. Although I was a little disappointed, too, I had kind of expected the response.


    Despite her mother and father being a world-renowned botanist and marine biologist, respectively, Cat¡¯s never shown even an inkling of interest in the subjects. In fact, I would say it¡¯s the exact opposite¨Cshe slacks off in science more than any other subject, preferring to sleep or doodle in her notebook than to listen to the teacher.


    Honestly, it makes you wonder about the credibility of the saying ¡°the apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree.¡±


    As I thought, Cat moved forward, windmilling her arms and blasting Miller and me with a gust of electrified air. She pointed to a door at the side of the hall.


    ¡°Enough dawdling. Let¡¯s go and see them.¡±


    Miller and I didn¡¯t argue, and followed Cat at a leisurely pace into a wide corridor whose walls were lined intermittently with ancient Greek sculptures and priceless paintings created in Victorian England. It took a few turns, and a couple of detours (Cat just loves to show off her whale-shark aquarium), but we eventually made it to the set of seven-foot tall hickory doors inscribed with phrases in various languages I didn¡¯t recognized, which marked the entrance to what we simply referred to as ¡°their room.¡±


    ¡°They should be in here,¡± Cat assured us, sounding about ten percent confident that it was true. ¡°I¡¯ll open the door.¡±


    Letting her go right ahead, Miller and I watched as she lay her palm flat on the textured surface of the wood. With a single, nearly effortless push, she forced the heavy slab of wood to swing inwards, silent on its well-oiled hinges.


    She turned to look at us with a winning smile. ¡°Well?¡±


    We all went in, Cat taking the lead.


    Upon entering, we found ourselves in a brightly-lit room with light-blue walls that could behind the rows of plants, aquatic-life specimens, and books littered around its perimeter.


    At the center of the room were two identical leather recliners facing an empty fireplace, two heads barely visible above their tops. Cat began walking towards them, but Miller and I hung back.


    ¡°Mom, dad, we¡¯re home!¡± she called, her voice echoing across the room, bouncing off of the petals of flowers and the fins of fishes before dying a slow death in my ears.


    The chairs moved, accompanied by the sound of wood scraping wood, and the two figures stood before walking toward me and the others.


    ¡°Hello, Catriona¡­¡± her mother said, approaching us with her hands folded behind her back.


    For a moment, the only sound in the room was the thundering of her footsteps on the hard ground, but then she and her husband smiled warmly, and asked ¡®How was school today?¡±


    ¡°School was fine, I guess, but it was the walk to school that was great. I found a frog!¡±


    At first her parents were silent, her father taking off and cleaning his glasses on his shirt, her mother stroking her chin and seeming to sink deeper and deeper into thought. Cat, the unbreakable fortress of will that she is, stared straight ahead at her mother and father, quiet, unmoving.


    Of course, that didn¡¯t last long, and in a fashion typical of Cat¡¯s family, the tense air was immediately shattered.


    ¡°A frog?¡± her mom finally questioned, eyes widening slightly. ¡°That¡¯s great! Where is she?¡±


    ¡°I gave him to Gerald. he should be setting him up in his room right now.¡±


    ¡°What species is it?¡± her father asked immediately. ¡°Were there any spots on its head? Where did you find it?¡±


    ¡°He was by the swamp at Asher¡¯s house,¡± Cat said, perfectly happy to recount the story¨Cwhich she proceeded to do, with great theatrics and even greater exaggeration. She concluded with ¡°Anyway, I think he had a few spots on his back, but that was it.¡±


    Her father nodded and took in everything she said with interest, but by the time he responded, I had mentally clocked out of the conversation and didn¡¯t catch much of it.


    Okay, okay, I get that that¡¯s kind of harsh, but it¡¯s really just because of the way her family works.


    First there¡¯s her mom, who is about as close as you can get to an adult Cat. A world class experimental botanist (extreme, I know), she spends most of her time improving upon, and even creating entirely new, plants. When she¡¯s not doing work, she¡¯s travelling, playing games, making appearances on TV¨Cbasically anything and everything she can do to have some fun.


    Then there¡¯s her father. He¡¯s a marine biologist but, unlike his wife, he spends time travelling around to various conferences and lecture halls, focusing his work on teaching others. Overall, he¡¯s a pretty calm guy, but when you get him talking about something he enjoys he gets almost as loud and excited as a certain red-headed girl.


    Alone, they¡¯re both very interesting people who are enjoyable to be around, but put them with their daughter, and it gets very draining, very quickly, and I tend to stay back and wait for them to finish with their eccentricities.


    Unfortunately, my tried and true method of navigating the mysterious sea that is Cat¡¯s inter-familial relations doesn¡¯t always work.


    Today was one of those days.


    Apparently, while I was zoned out, Cat and her parents had finished their conversation and come over to talk to Miller and Me, all while I was staring off into space. I had anticipated a much longer wait period and, due to that, was pretty deep into my daydreaming.


    By the time that I came out of my trance and realized that I was being spoken to, it was already too late.


    ¡°¡­really going to enjoy it.¡± That was the first thing I heard, coming from Cat¡¯s dad. Cat and her mom nodded in agreement, and Miller, who was obviously more aware of where the conversation was going, responded.


    ¡°I think so, too¨CItaly sounds like an interesting place. Thank you both again for inviting us.¡±


    Oh, so that¡¯s what they were talking about. Thank God for Miller and his expositional small-talk.


    ¡°Yeah, we really appreciate the opportunity,¡± I said, glad that I tuned in early enough to join in thanking them.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s no problem!¡± Cat¡¯s mom assured us with a flourish of her hands. ¡°To be honest, we prefer it when you two tag along with us. You¡¯re a big help in keeping Catriona out of trouble.


    ¡®You make me sound like a little kid, mom,¡± Cat said, with an inflection that wasn¡¯t entirely adult.


    ¡°Ah, you know that¡¯s not how I meant it, dear,¡± her mom responded, turning to look at her daughter and smiling. ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you take Miller and Asher to their room? It¡¯s nearly time to eat.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure thing.¡±


    Cat, who was most likely very ready to start eating, wasted no time in rushing us out of the room without warning, barely giving us time to blink before pushing us down the marble halls, through the series of turns that had delivered us there, and steadily onwards towards our room, the rubber souls of my shoes skidding against the polished floor as I thought of eating and then going to bed.


    Little did I know, Cat had much bigger plans for the three of us¡­


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


    Author''s Note: A little more SOL for you guys, let me know what you think of the characters and story so far!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 5

    After dragging us backwards through the halls of the part of the house we had just traveled and then taking us in an entirely new direction, keeping a vice grip on our wrists the entire time, Cat dropped us unceremoniously into the guest room, allowing us to fall through the doorway and crash to the ground.


    ¡°Dinner¡¯s in ten minutes,¡± she said in an official, commanding tone. ¡®Get changed and washed up¨Cyou¡¯re both filthy. I¡¯ll see you there.¡±


    The receding sound of her footsteps told me that she had left, but I couldn¡¯t be sure, as my face was still buried in the carpet from the fall. It smelled like lemons.


    After a few seconds of silence, I hazarded a whisper to Miller, my voice coming out muted due to thickness of the fabric.


    ¡°Did she leave?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± no change to his voice¨Che must have been lucky enough to land on his back.


    Trusting his word, I dug my hands into the soft floor and got up, feeling the left side of my face for any abnormalities and finding nothing but a light imprint of the texture of the carpet etched into my skin, which I hoped would fade. I glanced at Miller, who had also recovered into a sitting position.


    ¡°Do you think we should just get changed now, or wait a little?¡±


    ¡°Now, probably,¡± he said, standing. I followed his lead. ¡°It¡¯s best to just do as she says in situations like this.¡±


    His reasoning was sound, and I turned to retrieve my bag, which was sitting on the other side of the room, on top of the cerulean sheets of the second bed. It was at that point I realized we weren¡¯t alone in the room.


    Standing in the corner opposite Miller and me was a girl maybe one or two years older than us, dusting off an expensive looking dresser. At first I wasn¡¯t sure who it could be, but when I caught sight of the dark-brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail and the dark gauged earring poking out from behind it, the answer became clear.


    ¡°Oh, hello, Naoko,¡± I said, a little more quietly than intended. Luckily for me, she heard the near-whisper and swiveled around. ¡®It¡¯s been a while.¡±


    She smiled in response, holding her dust-rag behind her back. ¡°Hi, Asher, it¡¯s nice to see you. How have y¨C¡±


    Her question, for some reason, cut off right in the middle, and Naoko stood staring at me silently, mouth agape. I had no idea what was happening, but I immediately let the conversation drop, instead choosing to go over the conversation in my head to try and find where I went wrong.


    I came up with nothing. Naoko and I had known each other for quite a while, and I at least considered her to be a close acquaintance, which is why the sudden awkwardness made no sense to me. Where had it come from? What had caused it?


    That was when I glanced to my side, and all of my questions were answered.


    Miller was standing next to the bed in nothing but his boxer shorts, rooting through his bag to find a change of clothes. Why he had chosen that moment to strip down, I have no idea, but at least it explained why Naoko had looked so shocked.


    Knowing the answer to my questions and, admittedly, feeling a little relieved by them, I brought my attention back to Naoko, unsure of what I was going to say to her. It turned out, however, that I didn¡¯t have to worry¨Cshe handled the rest of the conversation for me.


    Her face, which had begun to display a subtle shade of red, quickly transformed from shocked to apologetic, and she leaned forward in a shaky bow.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m s-sorry. I didn¡¯t m-mean to intrude, I¡­I apologize.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright¡­.¡± I began, but it didn¡¯t matter much, because she rushed out of the room the moment words began to come out of my mouth, apologizing the whole way.


    The second she exited the room, Miller seemed to find the clothes he was looking for, and pulled them out of his bag and onto his body quickly. After he had changed and put his other clothes away, he looked at me.


    ¡°What was all that noise you were making just now about?¡±


    I blinked, not entirely sure if he was joking or not. He didn¡¯t budge, and I was forced to accept that he was serious.


    ¡°Are you telling me that you have no idea what just happened? At all?¡±


    ¡°I was looking for new clothes.¡± he shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t really paying attention to what you were up to.¡±


    The room filled with the sound of my sigh, which only seemed to confuse Miller further, and I was made to explain to him what had happened while he was off in his own world, skimping no details. When I was done, he looked at the half-dusty dresser Naoko had been standing in front of and scratched his nose.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Is that all you¡¯re going to say?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah. What else should I do? Should I write her an apology letter, or something?¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I m¨Coh, nevermind, it doesn¡¯t matter anyway. How about I just get changed and we head down for dinner?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably for the best,¡± Miller agreed. ¡°We don¡¯t want Cat to come up here and drag us around again. I have a feeling she won¡¯t be so gentle this time around.¡±


    Agreeing fully, I got out of my school clothes and into a plain shirt and pants, and Miller and I left through the doorway and made our way towards the dining room.


    Surprisingly, we only got lost twice on our way to eat, which was a new personal best for the two of us, as no matter how many times we visit the sheer complexity of the building continues to baffle us. When all was said and done we made it to the dining room about twelve minutes after Cat dropped us off at our room, which seemed like great time to me.


    Cat, however, felt differently.


    ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± she said the moment Miller and I sat down across from her at the long, china-laden dinner table.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Miller asked. ¡°Your parents aren¡¯t even here yet, and nobody¡¯s brought the food. How are we late?¡±


    Cat glanced at Miller with narrowed eyes, arms folded tightly across her chest. ¡®I told you that dinner was in ten minutes at four-fifty and it¡¯s five o¡¯three right now. You¡¯re late.¡±


    The tips of Miller¡¯s ears turned red and the temperature of the room rose about .2 degrees Celsius, but I was able to cool it with a tap to the shoulder and a shake of my head. Even though he was annoyed, we both knew that it was no use to try and argue with her¨Cafter all, we had taken thirteen minutes instead of the prescribed ten.


    Cat¡¯s parents walked through the open door a moment later, arm-in-arm, to a silent room, but that fact changed very quickly. With a clap of her hands and a quick display of her perfect white teeth, Cat¡¯s mom sent the two pairs of folding doors behind her flying open. Waiter upon waiter flooded in, arms full of different trays of food, and soon the table was covered in various dishes and foods from all over the world.


    ¡°Alright!¡± she said, clapping her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s get this thing rolling!¡±


    We began eating immediately, serving ourselves and taking however much we desired. Although conversation flowed freely, I didn¡¯t really take part, as I¡¯m not a huge fan of talking while I¡¯m eating. Mostly, it was Cat who did the talking, relating to us the story of the time she almost died falling out of a tree.


    To be honest, I doubted the validity of the tale, but it was nevertheless interesting to listen to, and I learned a thing or two about broken ankles and the power of maple syrup.


    By the time her story was over, we had all finished eating our meals, and the food was being cleared off of the table and stored for later use. Once all that could be seen was the dark-brown varnish of the table and a few crumbs, Cat¡¯s dad cleared his throat.


    ¡°So¡­..Who wants dessert?¡±


    The decision was unanimous, and in a few minutes two workers appeared in the dining room, each carrying their own dessert¨Cone a tray full of delicious-looking fruit, the other baked alaska.


    The fruit looked great to me, but I could tell that Cat and Miller both had their eyes on the more dessert-like of the two. Cat loves anything sugary or sweet, and Miller has a weak spot for ice cream, so I knew from the second that I saw the selections that things were about to get brutal.


    Miller was the first to move. As soon as the dessert was set down and the silverware distributed, he picked up his knife and reached to cut off a piece, but Cat was just as quick, throwing her arm forward and pinning down his knife with her spoon.


    I filled a bowl with fruit and began eating.


    My friends continued to struggle, arms shaking with effort as each attempted to gain the upper hand and get at the dessert first. They stared at each other, eyes cold, and Cat gave Miller a knowing smile.


    ¡°It seems as if we¡¯re at a standstill, huh? How do you propose we settle this?¡±


    ¡°We could play rock-paper-scissors,¡± Miller suggested, never removing his gaze from the eyes of the enemy. I took another bite. ¡°Winner gets first go at the food.¡±


    ¡°No way.¡± She sounded adamant. ¡°We can¡¯t decide on something as important as this with a childish game like rock-paper-scissors. It needs to be more serious than that.¡±


    Miller didn¡¯t notice it, but the entire time Cat was talking to him she had been inching her arm closer and closer to his knife, preparing to disarm him at the first opportunity. Turns out that opportunity wasn¡¯t very far away, because the second she was done talking he struck, her arm shooting forward quick as a cobra and pushing Miller¡¯s knife away.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    My spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl.


    With her only adversary out of commission, Cat made a mad dash for the baked alaska, aiming with her spoon and intending to take a bite directly from the source.


    However, Miller wasn¡¯t going to let that happen so easily.


    With a speed and look of determination I rarely see in him, he whipped his arm around, his wrist making contact with Cat¡¯s spoon and knocking it out of her hand. As her spoon clattered to the floor, empty, I took my last bite of fruit with mine. At the other side of the table, Cat¡¯s mom began cheering.


    Miller, his enemy seemingly defeated and with a triumphant expression, went to finally take a slice of the dessert he had so longed for, licking his lips.


    He never made it. At the last moment before the edge of his knife touched the baked alaska Cat, her eyes full of fight, grabbed the entire tray and pulled back, holding it over her head and away from Miller.


    ¡°It¡¯s mine. I won¡¯t let you have it!¡±


    Miller leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with one hand, and reaching forward with the other. ¡°Come on, Cat! You know how much I love ice cream.¡±


    Her response was to elegantly stick out her tongue and lean even further backwards in an attempt to escape his clutches with the baked alaska in tow. Unfortunately for both of them, she leaned back a bit too far, lost balance, and took all three of them¨Cher, Miller, and the dish¨Ctumbling over the table and onto the ground.


    There was a loud crash and, after the dust cleared and the clattering of metal faded away, I saw the two of them lying side by side, covered in an equal amount of ice cream.


    And, in the end, isn¡¯t that all they ever really wanted?


    With that display done and over with, I stood over my friends, empty bowl in hand, and bowed my head at Cat¡¯s parents. ¡°Thanks for the meal.¡±


    Turning around so no one could see me smirking, I began to walk away, ready to get to my room and finish my homework before going to sleep. Naturally, it wasn¡¯t that easy.


    Miller and Cat were still tangled up on the floor and covered in the dessert they had both hoped to eat, but they dealt with that quickly enough when they saw that I was leaving. Their sticky feet tapping on the floor, they caught up to me, each putting a hand on one of my shoulders.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just leave, Asher,¡± Cat told me, seemingly positive that that action was beyond my ability. ¡°We still have to play some games before bed.¡±


    Miller nodded, agreeing with his adversary of just a few moments ago. ¡°I brought my cards so we could all play together.¡±


    ¡°We can still play,¡± I said, ¡°but I think you two should clean up first.¡±


    They agreed after a quick look at themselves, and walked into the opposite direction, towards the bathroom, to clean themselves off. Once they were gone, I gave a quick goodbye to Cat¡¯s parents, and made my way back to the room.


    With only a few wrong turns (and a little help from a passing butler), I made it back and, finally alone, got started on my homework.


    As it turned out, that was a good idea¨CI was able to finish all of my work with time to spare, Cat and Miller coming into my room a few minutes after I had zipped up my bag and laid back on the bed to rest. When I heard them at the door, i opened my eyes and found it a little more difficult than normal.


    Both Miller and Cat¡¯s hair was still damp from washing off, and droplets of water fell onto the fluffy white towels they had draped over their shoulders. Cat glanced around the room.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t set up the cards?¡±


    At first I didn¡¯t realize that she was talking to me, but when she turned her gaze in my direction, I shrugged. ¡°I was tired.¡±


    ¡°You were tired¡­¡± She shook her head, unable to hide the scorn in her voice, and probably not even trying. ¡°As per usual, I¡¯ll have to do everything myself.¡±


    It sounded like she was complaining, but I don¡¯t think Cat actually minded distributing the cards herself¨Cshe even started humming as she did so, filling the room with a discordant melody. After a few seconds, she was done.


    ¡°Okay, who¡¯s ready to play?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Cat, that¡¯s not how you hand out the cards,¡± Miller responded, pointing at the three separate decks she had created. ¡°We only need three hands for poker.¡±


    ¡°No, this is right,¡± she replied immediately with a devious smile. ¡°We¡¯re not playing poker.¡±


    The way she said that told me that I probably shouldn¡¯t even ask, but, at the end of the day, I¡¯m a weak person, and I let curiosity get the better of me.


    ¡°What are we playing, then?¡±


    She just kept on smiling, and said ¡°We¡¯re playing war.¡±


    I knew I shouldn¡¯t have asked.


    * * *


    Cat called it a war, but I can¡¯t say it was much of a fight. I had never played the game before and, although it was simple enough, quickly lost the first two matches we played.


    The third was much the same at the start but, surprisingly, I ended up winning by virtue of what Cat called a ¡°prophetic three-way war,¡± whatever that means.


    Unfortunately for me (and my sleep schedule), Cat wasn¡¯t done with us yet. Next, she roped Miller and me into what ended up being a two-hour long game of charades, where we weren¡¯t allowed to stop until we correctly guessed what she was miming as she stood stock-still with the fingers of one hand facing up and the others down.


    Somehow, most likely by the mercy of the universe itself, we actually were able to figure it out (she was a cactus, of course), but by that point we were so tired the victory didn¡¯t have any effect¨Cwe just wanted to get to bed.


    Naturally, however, we weren¡¯t allowed to do that, as Cat had ¡°one more thing¡± that we ¡°had to do,¡± before that was an option. After telling us that, she burst out of the room in a hurry, seemingly preparing for the activity. The second she left, both Miller and I drifted off into the world of sleep¨Cfor about two minutes.


    After that, any notion of sleep was tossed to the side as Cat stepped through the door, two pots and spatulas clanging noisily in her hands.


    She walked towards us, and with our delayed reaction times, had no trouble planting the pots on our heads and placing the spatulas in our hands. The pot was too big for me and began to succumb to the force of gravity, but, being too tired to resist taking part in her game, I groggily pushed it back into place.


    ¡°What are these for?¡±


    Cat laughed in response, making a distinct effort to vocalize it. ¡°Fufufu. So, the most famous knights of Mo¡¯or-deb village have finally found my lair. What is it that you intend to do now?¡±


    Had I been in the right state of mind, I would have responded, most likely ended the game right there, but sleep-deprivation kept that from happening. Instead, I was still working through Cat¡¯s words in my mind and trying to figure out what in the world ¡°Mo¡¯or-deb¡± was.


    As I worked on trying to decipher her words through my haze of drowsiness, I vaguely recognized Miller speaking, although I couldn¡¯t tell you what he said¨Call I know is that it got an immediate, booming response from Cat.


    ¡°My laugh is of no importance, brave knight. Focus on it not. Instead, do what you came here to accomplish¨Cfight me. I promise that I, the fearsome Red Dragon, will not hold back.


    ¡°Wha-¡± I began, but the words died in my diaphragm as Cat¡¯s fist dug into it, sending me (and Miller, who was behind me) reeling back, falling to the floor and sputtering for breath. She stood over us, hands on her hips.


    ¡°Is that all you have to offer? Come, get up! Fight for your honor. Fight for the name of the village of Mo¡¯or-deb!¡±


    ¡°What is she talking about?¡± Miller asked in a harsh whisper. I turned my head to look at him, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I think she¡¯s pretending to be a dragon and wants us to fight her,¡± I said as clearly as possible, my words ringing through the metal of my helmet. ¡°You know how she is¨Cwe should probably just play along and get it over with.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­.okay. Let¡¯s do this, then.¡±


    With that, we both stood up, boots scraping the rocky ground as we supported each other, arms draped over each other¡¯s shoulders. When we were finally stable, we drew our blades, and I addressed the dragon.


    ¡°We have come to slay you, oh fearsome Red Dragon. Prepare to fight.¡±


    The dragon¡¯s eyes glinted, its lips curling into a cruel smile, and Miller and I ran forward, eyes half closed, to meet her in battle.


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


    Author''s Note: A pretty laid back chapter, but this marks the point where the story will begin to pick up. I hope you''ll stick with me, and don''t forget to comment if you enjoyed!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 6

    When I opened my eyes, I found that I was laying on the floor, still dressed in my makeshift armor from the previous night and with a large blanket thrown haphazardly over my body, covering only my right leg and half of my torso. After a moment of grogginess in which I heavily debated with myself on whether to get up or go back to sleep, I pushed myself into a sitting position, letting the pot fall off of my head and clatter to the ground.


    Miller was at my side, laying on his stomach with the lower half of his body hidden under the bed and the upper half covered by a blanket identical to mine. Although he seemed to be sleeping soundly, he woke up when the cookware made contact with the floor, fumbling around under the cover for a few moments before poking his head out and squinting at the sudden presence of light.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked, standing and stretching with a yawn. I did the same, and was surprised to find that, after moving, I didn¡¯t feel tired at all, despite only getting around five hours of sleep.


    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure,¡± I replied after Miller and I were both fully awake. ¡°All I remember is running at Cat. After that, it¡¯s all a blur.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I can tell you what happened after that.¡± Cat¡¯s voice cut in suddenly, and I turned to see her standing in the open doorway. Her timing was uncanny¨Cit¡¯s almost as if she knew when we were going to wake up. ¡°You two tried to run at me and ended up falling to the floor unconscious. After that I just threw some blankets on you and went to be myself.


    ¡°Oh.¡± That made sense, but for some reason the thought of being unconscious around Cat made me uneasy. As I was worrying about what could have went on after things went black for Miller and I, Cat made her way further into the room, and for the first time I noticed what she was wearing.


    Aside from a t-shirt, shorts and comfortable looking shoes, which were normal for her outside of school, she had placed a small clip by her ear to keep her hair from falling into her face, was wearing plain black socks and, most evidently, had a backpack slung over her shoulders. They were all small things, by themselves, but together they told me that Cat planned to go somewhere today.


    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Cat asked, breaking me out of my observational trance. I moved my eyes from her shoulders to her eyes.


    ¡®Sorry, I was just wondering why you were dressed like that. Are you planning on going out?¡±


    She looked at me quizzically. ¡®What are you talking about? I¡¯m going to Italy, obviously.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Italy?¡± I asked, looking at Miller, who replied with a shrug. ¡°We¡¯re not leaving for Italy until tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°That would be true, if today were yesterday,¡± she said, ¡°but it¡¯s not. You two slept straight through, and now it¡¯s Sunday morning.¡±


    ¡°Sunday morning¡­¡± It seemed far-fetched, to say the least, but the more I thought about it the more sense it made¨Cit explained why I felt so well-rested and why there was such a bad taste in my mouth, at least. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying we slept for a whole day and a half?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± She nodded. ¡®you both slept like kings. Or sloths.¡±


    Disregarding her last comment, I sat on the undisturbed sheets of the bed, and Miller accompanied me, laying his head on a pillow and looking even more shocked than I felt.


    ¡°Wow¡­.¡± he muttered, and left it at that, continuing to stare at the high ceiling. I felt about the same level of amazement as him, and was about ready to lay down and stare with him.


    But, as you probably guessed, Cat wasn¡¯t about to let that happen.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t just sit around and do nothing, if I were you,¡± she said. She walked over to the side of the bed and tapped me with her foot, the hard sole digging into my side and waking me up slightly. ¡°We leave in forty-five minutes, so you might want to get a move on.¡±


    ¡°Forty-five minutes?¡± I pushed her foot out of the way and stood up. ¡°What time is it now?¡±


    ¡°8:20.¡±


    ¡°8:20? That means we¡¯re leaving at 9:05?¡±


    ¡°mm-hm.¡±


    ¡°Why 9:05, instead of 9:00.¡±


    Cat shrugged. ¡°Why does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Nevermind,¡± I sighed, and shuffled over to nudge Miller, whose face was now buried in his pillow. As I shook his shoulder, he stirred slightly, muttering into the soft fabric.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be up in¡­.a minute. Just st¡­¡­without me¡­¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what he was talking about, but I shrugged it aside and shook a little harder while saying his name. A second later, he woke up again, nearly smacking his face off of the headboard.


    ¡°W-what is it?¡± he asked groggily, and I explained the situation. ¡°oh, alright. You can get ready first¨Cit shouldn¡¯t take me long.¡±


    ¡°Okay, then! I¡¯m going to go wait in the main hall. Come down as soon as you¡¯re ready.¡± She turned and walked towards the hall. ¡°See you in forty minutes, sharp!¡±


    The door slammed loudly behind her, and Miller and I were left alone to get ready. It took me a little longer than usual, considering I had an entire extra day to catch up on, but eventually I finished up, as did Miller, and we made our way downstairs with our already-packed bags.


    Cat was already in the main hall, sitting near the large door on top of one of her suitcases, her legs dangling over the side freely. When she spotted us, she smiled and immediately glanced at the imaginary watch on her wrist. She shook her head.


    ¡°You¡¯re cutting it close, boys,¡± she tisked, planting her palms on the top of her suitcase and pushing herself off onto the marble floor. ¡°We leave in two minutes.¡±


    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Miller asked.


    Cat surveyed the room with a surprised look on her face, as if she had just noticed we were alone. She shrugged.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be here any second. Mom likes to cut it down to the wire, but she always makes it on time.¡±


    That seemed about right for Cat¡¯s mom, and so we waited in near-silence, the only noise coming from the glistening chandelier swaying gently above our heads, until it was time to go.


    ¡°Looks like they¡¯re l¨C¡± Miller began, but his smug tone was immediately overtaken by a resounding ¡°clack¡± coming from outside of the hall.


    ¡°There they are.¡± Cat smiled as her parents walked through the ornate wooden door to our left.


    ¡°Hello, children!¡± Cat¡¯s mother exclaimed happily. The intensity of her voice was beaten out only by the scent of her perfume, an intoxicating lilac that filled my nostrils and rendered all of my other senses useless for a second. ¡°Are you all ready to go?¡±


    The three of us nodded, and Cat said ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re good.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful!¡± Her mom clapped loudly, the crack echoing across the room. I took a step from underneath the chandelier.


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s head out,¡± Cat¡¯s dad said as the noise vanished, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and heading to the door.


    We all followed him, luggage in tow, outside of the house, where we took a path which led us in a semicircle to the rear-side of the mansion. The path led directly through a botanical garden that Cat¡¯s mother had designed, and i took a moment to enjoy seeing plants and smelling fragrances I had never experienced before.


    It didn¡¯t last long, however, as the garden ended as quickly as it began, the ground beneath my feet transforming from a rustic stone path into flat, gray asphalt in a second. I had been looking at the ground when the transition took place, and turned my head towards the sky to see where we had ended up.


    But the sky is not what I actually ended up seeing.


    Instead, a large, slate gray jet that easily cleared twelve feet high filled my vision, and I stared at, partly out of necessity and partly out of wonder. As my eyes scanned the length of the aircraft, the large metal door anchored to its side slid open, and a previously invisible crew wheeled a set of stairs up to the opening. Our bags were quickly taken from our hands and, without so much as a word, we were ushered onto the plane.


    Within five minutes, the five of us were all seated in the large, gray padded seats, listening to the crackling voice of the pilot instructing us to buckle up and take off. Complying quickly, I clicked the metal piece into place and, not even a second later, the turbines began to roar, and we propelled forward, rising into the air and speeding towards Italy faster than I would have thought possible (or at least thoughtlegal).


    The trip officially underway, I settled back in my seat, opened up my bag and pulled out a book, and flipped to the first page¡­


    The plane touched down about 9 hours later, rolling down the dark landing strip before halting abruptly and letting us all stepp of of the metal aircraft and into the cool Italian air.


    While Anderson eagerly handed me my bags, I turned my eyes to the sky, blocking the intrusive rays of sunlight that inevitably followed with my hand , and took stock of the weather. Overall, it seemed pretty nice, with the sun emitting constant waves of warmth, only a slight breeze, and a small scattering of gray and white clouds across the blue sky.


    Once everyone had stepped off of the plane we walked, luggage in tow, to the hotel we would be staying at, which turned out to be a beautiful building situated just off of the central plaza, with a great view of both the canals and downtown. Looking at the hotel, with all of its amazing architecture and wonderful positioning within the city, i couldn¡¯t imagine how much money it must have cost to secure enough rooms for all of us, and I got the urge to thank at¡¯s parents once again.


    When I turned around to do so, however, they weren¡¯t there¨Cin fact, no one was there, aside from Cat and Miller.


    ¡°Where did everybody go?¡± I asked.


    ¡°They all went inside while you were spaced out staring at the windows, or whatever it was you were just doing.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± It hadn¡¯t felt like I was staring at the hotel for that long, but I do have a habit of zoning out sometimes, so I took Cat¡¯s word for it. ¡°Well, let¡¯s just go in.¡±


    I turned and entered the building, but was forced to wait once inside¨CCat was the only one who knew where our rooms were. Within moments she appeared at my side, and led Miller and I through the ornate lobby, into a crimson-walled elevator, and to our floor.


    Within a few minutes, we were in Miller and my room, Miller and I sitting on our beds and Cat trying to find a comfortable position to sit in the old-fashioned chair in the corner of the room.


    ¡°So, what do you guys want to do first>¡± she asked, squirming a little more before eventually deciding to just stand up.


    Miller, who had just picked up the TV remote, arched his eyebrows. What, we can just go and do whatever we want?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not entirely sure what my parents are planning to do, but I know it¡¯ll be pretty boring and I don¡¯t want to join in, so they¡¯re letting us do things on our own. Any ideas on where to go first?¡±


    ¡°How about we go to bed?¡± Miller grumbled, flopping on his back. ¡°That plane ride kind of messed with me, so I¡¯d rather just rest and go in the morning.¡±


    ¡°It is morning,¡± Cat reminded him. ¡°Time zones, remember?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I didn¡¯t sleep at all on the plane, unlike the rest of you, plus I¡¯m still worn out from all the stuff that went on the other night. I¡¯m taking a nap.¡±


    ¡°How about we do something that you can rest during?¡± Cat asked, obviously determined to get everyone in on the activities. ¡°We can ride on the canal, get something to eat, and come back here. Doesn¡¯t that sound fun?¡±


    Miller had his eyes closed, but when Cat approached him , he snapped them open and sat up about as fast as a tortoise on sleep medication. He turned his head and mumbled a response which none of us could make out, but which Cat immediately took for a yes, pumping her fist in the air victoriously.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna go take my stuff to my room. We¡¯ll head out as soon as I get back, so be ready.¡±


    And with that she raced out of the room, the plastic wheels of her suitcase echoing on the tile floor and ringing throughout the fourteenth floor.


    It took only seconds for Miller to drift back into sleep and, although I considered waking him, I eventually decided to let him catch what few minutes of rest he could, and went to organizing my belongings.


    There wasn¡¯t much in my bag, aside from necessities, but I did have a notebook and some pencils which I took out and set on the short desk in the corner of the room. It seemed to me that everything else would be fine in my bag, and I set it on the ground next to the desk.


    I don¡¯t know how I didn¡¯t hear her come in¨CCat¡¯s not really known for her stealth¨Cbut when I turned around, she was already standing over the sleeping form of Miller, face no further than an inch from his own.


    There wasn¡¯t any time to try and stop it.


    ¡°Millerrrr¡­¡± she said, in a low voice. He didn¡¯t respond, and Cat took it one step further, blowing a puff of air directly into his face.


    He jolted upwards immediately,unceremoniously smashing his forehead into Cat¡¯s own in the process. He let out a grunt and fell backwards, while Cat stood, completely unaffected. It might have been me imagining things, but I could have sworn I even heard a small laugh escape her.


    ¡°Are you ready to go?¡± Cat asked, looking down at Miller. He sat up once again, more carefully, and rubbed his forehead.


    ¡°What¡¯s the big idea, Cat?¡± Miller asked, ignoring her question. ¡° You slam me in forehead, and then ask if I¡¯m ready to go? Of course I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Actually, you¡¯re the one who slammed me in the forehead. I just woke you up.¡±


    Miller opened his mouth to respond, and closed it immediately. Cat smiled, just a little, ready for his rebuttal, and I decided that it was time for me to step in.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just head out now, if we¡¯re going to,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s no sense in wasting our time arguing.¡±


    They both kept quiet, and Cat nodded with a smile on her face, swiveling and walking towards the door. Miller didn¡¯t say anything, which I took as a sign of agreement, and we followed her out of the room, grabbing our keycards and shutting off the lights behind us.


    Cat lead the way, taking us down multiple flights of faded beige steps and into the main hall, where we pushed our way through groups of men in suits and women in dresses, and then a second wave of women in pantsuits and men in sweatervests, eventually making it through the front doors.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Outside, I was hit with a sudden blast of cold air as the previously mild-tempered wind slammed into my face with more force than I could have imagined it to possess. my eyes dry and my nose overtaken by the scent of too many people and concrete characteristic of cities, I blinked and looked at my friends.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit colder than when we got here, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Definitely.¡± Miller nodded, his eyelids mimicking the gesture in their attempt to remain open. ¡°How about we head back inside?¡±


    ¡°No way.¡± Cat said. She was already eyeing up the canals, searching for signs of potential adventure. ¡°It¡¯s just a little wind. You guys can handle it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Cat.¡± Miller said. He didn¡¯t sound convinced. ¡°We could just get our jackets and come right back out.¡±


    ¡°Not necessary. Remember the time zones, Miller. It¡¯s only eight in the morning here, so it¡¯s going to warm up soon. We¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Although I would have made no arguments to going back and getting a jacket, Cat¡¯s logic was technically sound, so I didn¡¯t try to fight her on it. Besides, it¡¯s not like she would have been able to hear me, as she had already made her way over to the edge of the canal, waving her hands around as if she were hailing a cab or entreating a late-night driver to make a questionable decision.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯re just going, then.¡± Miller looked at me with an eyebrow raised. His cheeks were infused with a small amount of pink, lips pressed tightly together.


    ¡°If we don¡¯t we¡¯re going to lose her, and who knows what kind of trouble she¡¯d get into then.¡±


    His sigh served well enough as an answer, and the two of us walked forward to reach her, taking care to avoid stepping on the cobblestone sidewalk the wrong way and falling on our faces.


    By the time we made it to the edge of the canal, Cat had actually succeeded in flagging someone down, and as he rowed over, paddles churning the cloudy water, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small paperback book.


    Flipping through, she stopped at a page bookmarked with a post-it note, and began rattling off a few shaky sentences in what I could only assume was Italian. After a minute, and a few more turned pages, the man in the boat nodded, his moustache bobbing over the edges of his smile, and gave a slow response (which sent Cat searching through her book once more).


    While she attempted to carry on a conversation with the man, Miller whispered ¡°Good thing she brought that book, huh? Honestly, I didn¡¯t even think about having to talk to the people here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded, and while it was impressive that she had thought so far ahead, I was caught up thinking about the post-it notes too much to really appreciate it.


    This whole time, Cat had made it seem as if the ride through the canals was a random idea, which was part of what made Miller and I agree to it in the first place. But, if she had sentences and words concerning that ride already picked out in her translation book, it was possible that she¡¯d had the idea a long time ago, and just rigged it to make it happen how she wanted to.


    And, of course, that train of thought led me to question pretty much everything about the trip¨Cwas it all just an elaborate setup, with each of us wrapped around Cat¡¯s little finger, subject to her every whim?


    Eh, but I¡¯m probably thinking too much into it.


    As I thought, Cat wrapped up her conversation with the rower, and was already stepping onto the vessel as I snapped out of it. Although when she only had one foot on the white-stained wood of the boat she was steady enough, she was a bit too eager in getting all the way on, stumbling in her excitement and nearly falling over the side of the boat.


    ¡°Careful.¡± I called down to her, smirking as I stepped onto the boat myself. It swayed and rocked underneath my feet, making my stomach feel like a tilted carousel, but I took a deep breath and sat down. ¡°If you fall, I¡¯m not coming in after you.¡±


    Her response was to stick her tongue out at me as she continued to stand, one foot on the front of the boat and her arm resting on her knees like she was some kind of military official crossing a river to victory.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to fall in. I¡¯ve got great balance.¡±


    I decided not to bring up the fact that she had once tripped over a crumpled up piece of paper in the school hall¨Cfor her sake.


    Miller got into the boat next, his own unsteadiness transferring into the vessel and shaking it, splashing cool water onto my face. His eyes half closed, he laid down on the wooden seat immediately, closing his eyes fully.


    Luckily, Cat didn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°Everybody ready?¡± Cat asked from the front of the boat, eyes narrowed, staring down the straight canal. ¡°Keep your hands and feet inside of the boat at all times. Andiamo!¡±


    I don¡¯t know what it was she said, but the young man in front seemed to get it, as he tipped his hat with a smile and dipped his oars into the water, sending us to drift slowly away from the cobblestone street.


    We made it to the middle of the waterway, and he began rowing, churning the cloudy water at an even pace. As we moved forward, Cat remained standing, wobbling every once in a while but, true to her word, never falling in.


    It took around ten minutes of slow rowing before we reached the main part of the ride, and we began passing shops, intricately designed houses with brightly colored shades, and various food courts.


    Since we were in the heart of the city, we were also surrounded by the largest number of people¨Ctourists and nationals alike. Luckily, we weren¡¯t the only boat in the water, and so the focus wasn¡¯t entirely onus, but many pairs of eyes still turned our way, and a few people even waved.


    Suddenly, I wished I was asleep like Miller.


    While Cat soaked in the attention, waving and revelling in both the city and the situation, I sat back and waited with closed eyes, hoping too many people weren¡¯t looking our way.¡±


    I¡¯m not sure if it was the slow rocking of the boat , the soft swishing of the paddles in the shallow canal water, or simply my jet-lag catching up with me that put me to sleep, but the next thing I know I was being pulled from unconsciousness by excited shouting at the front of the boat.


    ¡°Over there!¡± Cat shouted, pointing forward and to the right. ¡°Pull over there.¡±


    Typical. I thought as I rubbed sleep from my eyes. Leave it to Cat to wait until Miller and I are asleep to deviate from the plan and take us off course.


    As our driver carefully drew our boat over to the side of the canal, I crossed my arms and addressed Cat.


    ¡°What are you forcing on us this time?¡±


    Without looking at me, she once again pointed in the direction our boat was headed¨Ca cluster of dark, twisting trees surrounding a rusted metal archway.


    ¡°We¡¯re heading in there. Doesn¡¯t it sound fun?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it would, if I actually knew where we were going.¡±


    l think she had forgotten I was asleep, because as soon as she heard my comment she whipped her head around. arching her eyebrows.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear our guide?¡± she asked, as if I would have understood him even if I had. ¡°That¡¯s a cemetery.¡±


    ¡°A cemetery¡­¡±


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t even have time to think about our destination before Cat was dragging me and Miller (still asleep, of course) from the boat and onto land. Before I knew it, Cat had paid the driver, fired off a few sentences in Italian with the ease of a fluent speaker, and waved him off, leaving us alone and stranded at the cemetery.


    In essence, there was no turning back.


    ¡°Well, then, let¡¯s go in.¡± Cat stared at the rusty entrance to the dark cemetery as if it were a portal to a utopian society. Without waiting for a response from either me or Miller, she began walking forward.


    ¡°I feel like we find ourselves in these situations way too often for it to be considered normal,¡± I said, almost to myself.


    I¡¯d like to think it was simply surprise that made me jump when Miller responded, but if I¡¯m being honest with myself, the creepy atmosphere of the place probably added to my surprise.


    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s kind of par for the course, when you¡¯re friends with her.¡± For someone who was asleep only moments earlier, his eyes were intensely alert, and I wondered for a moment if he wasn¡¯t a little scared, too.


    But, even if that were so, he ended up following Cat into the dilapidated cemetery first, leaving me to bring up the rear, stepping onto the grounds a few paces behind the others.


    The first thing I noticed was the chill¨Cit had to be at least ten degrees cooler beneath the gnarled branches of the trees, the shade they cast drawing every last bit of warmth from my body and seeming to dull all of my senses in the process.


    As we continued walking over the mossy ground, my feet seeming to sink further into the earth with each step, I glanced around at the headstones littered throughout the cemetery, thinking of the bones entombed within the dirt beneath them.


    Some of the square pieces of stone¨Cmostly those close to the entrance¨Cseemed relatively well-kept. However, as we ventured further into the ancient resting place, that change, the best-preserved headstones in sight transforming into cracked, lichen-covered lumps of stone, the names carved into the front so faded they could no longer be deciphered. The worst examples, on the other hand, were no longer any more than piles of crumbled rock, the information they once held lost to time.


    ¡°This place is old,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s been a new burial here in at least fifty years.¡±


    Whether or not Miller and Cat heard me, neither one gave any indication of stopping. Miller continued to trudge forward a few feet in front of me, eyes never staying on any gravestone for more than a moment before flicking to the side to inspect another. Cat, on the other hand, was nothing more than a flash of red in the distance, darting from stone to stone, examining each with equal parts interest and intensity.


    I glanced away from Cat, instead focusing my attention on the ground, where tangles of rotting roots had begun to appear¨Cthe last thing I needed was to fall and bash my head on a headstone.


    Of course, even with all of my attention turned towards the earth, I still nearly tripped over the partially-hidden stump of an old tree, which was so old and weathered that it hardly rose an inch from the ground. Luckily, the ancient wood was rotted to the point that my foot went clear-through it, resulting in nothing more than a loud crack echoing through the cemetery.


    And that was when the weird stuff started happening.


    First, there was the mist, which seemed to close in instantaneously, going from a thin veil swirling slowly inches from the ground when I looked down, to a thick fog stretching the entire length of the cemetery, obscuring my vision to the point that I could see no more than four feet in any direction.


    Then, there was the headstone.


    Cat saw it first, mostly by virtue of the fact that she was about thirty feet ahead of Miller and I. While I was floundering around, looking for anything that would help me regain a sense of orientation, she called out from the void.


    ¡°Guys, you should really come and look at this!¡±


    I had no idea what she was talking about, but from what I could tell she wasn¡¯t far away, and so I began to walk slowly in her direction, my arms extended in front of me to keep from walking face first into any random trees.


    As it turned out, however, it was Miller, not a tree, that I had to look out for, as I ended up bumping into him a few moments later, my outstretched fingers connecting with his cheek and sending him jumping backwards.


    ¡°Oh, hey,¡± he said, when he realized that it was just me. Even though he was just a few feet away, it was still tough to see him over the thickening fog.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, and cut right to the chase. ¡°Do you have any idea what is going on with this fog?¡±


    ¡°Not really. He glanced around at our surroundings¨Cat least what was visible of them¨Cand narrowed his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s odd, to say the least.¡±


    ¡°¡®Odd¡¯ definitely seems like a good way to describe this.¡± I grabbed his forearm, and began walking forward. ¡°Now let¡¯s go see what it is Cat found, and get out of here.¡±


    It took us a few minutes of shouting back and forth, and a lot of stumbling over our own feet, before we found her, kneeling in front of an ancient-looking gravestone propped up against a short, dark tree.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, looking over her shoulder. I didn¡¯t see anything unusual¨Cjust a piece of rock with its words worn away¨Cbut Cat seemed to have caught something that I didn¡¯t.


    ¡°There are cracks all along this grave, see?¡± she said, pointing towards the bottom of the headstone. That was when I saw them, shaky tendrils of inky-blackness running down from halfway up the gravestone and into the rocky soil.


    If I didn¡¯t know better, I would have thought they were claw marks.


    ¡°What do you think they are?¡± I asked Cat, now feeling as interested as she looked. Was it just decay? Maybe sap dripping from the twisting trunk of the tree we stood underneath.


    Or was it something more?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, shaking her wrist. ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡±


    She stretched her hand out as she finished the sentence, pale fingers extending towards the jagged marks etched into the stone. Miller, who had been watching the whole thing with a suspicious glance, took a step forward.


    ¡°Wait¨C¡±


    But it was too late. Cat¡¯s pointer finger, inching forward all that time, made contact with one of the uneven lines, brushing over it as gently as summer breeze.


    That¡¯s when the stone split, the cracks widening quickly and sending forth an earsplitting crack that worked its way through my ears, blowing past my eardrums and reverberating throughout my entire skull.


    The sound faded as quickly as it came, and I opened my eyes, looking down just as the remnants of the grave crumbled away, and a shadow leapt out.


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


    Author''s Note: Long chapter today, leading up to the climax of the first volume. I hope you enjoy!

 Volume 1 - Chapter 7

    The thing came at me so fast that I didn¡¯t even have time to react, but, luckily, it had terrible aim. Dashing past me, accomplishing nothing more than to force a cool breeze across my side, the figure shot free of the stone it had been hiding in, coming to rest behind me and my friends.


    There was no way to tell what had happened¨Cthe shadow could have been anything¨Cand I tried to tell myself that it was just a bat, or some other unlikely coincidence, but the attempt was short-lived. We had all seen the seemingly ever-expanding mist, we had each felt the rush of impossibly cool wind as the shadow passed us, we all had the same feeling deep in our souls.


    This wasn¡¯t a coincidence.


    We froze for a moment, staring at the rubble that the headstone had left behind. Not daring to move, I glanced at my friends out of the corner of my eyes, trying my best to communicate ¡°What should we do?¡± with nothing more than my gaze and the rhythm of my breathing.


    If they understood the question, they had no answer. And neither did I.


    Of course, there was no way Cat was going to stay immobile for much longer than thirty seconds and, with a shuffling of her feet, she turned around. She didn¡¯t say anything, but when it comes to her, that¡¯s enough.


    The message was clear. There was something there, and it wasn¡¯t good.


    I¡¯ll make it clear right now: I didn¡¯t want to turn around, not at all. Honestly, if it had been up to me, I would have stayed staring at the chunks of stone through the mist until the thing, whatever it was, had left, and we could walk out of the cemetery unscathed.


    But it wasn¡¯t up to me. Cat had turned around and, for better or worse, I had to, as well. Taking a few breaths and trying to build up my courage¨Cwhich I gave up pretty quickly¨CI stared at my feet as I shifted them, turning slowly to face the same direction as Cat.


    Slowly, I raised my eyes.


    Though I had no expectations, the creature still managed to exceed them all, possessing qualities I both never would have expected, and never would have believed.


    It stood, or rather, floated, maybe twenty feet in front of us, staring directly at me and my friends with bulbous, pupil-less black eyes that seemed ready at any moment to burst forth from their sockets.


    The eyes weren¡¯t what got me, though¨Cit was the face, or, at least, the lack thereof, that made me take a step back. Sitting atop a pair of broad, uneven gray shoulders and half of a torso was what looked like a normal human skull¨Cheavily-cracked and several times too large, but a human skull nonetheless. Patches of ashen skin clung to the bone below the two formless eyes, and another hung loosely off of its jawbone, but it was otherwise bare.


    Although the dark, heavy mist had made it difficult to see before, I had no trouble seeing this¨Cit was as if the creature bent the fog to its will, using it to block our view of everything in our environment while simultaneously transforming itself into a yellowed beacon in the dark, attracting all of the attention.


    Miller turned around at that point and, although he didn¡¯t say anything, the widening of his eyes told me that he was just as horrified as I was. I tried to whisper to my friends, say anything to break through the deadly atmosphere, but the words just wouldn¡¯t come, getting caught in the dryness of my throat.


    But that was alright¨CCat beat me to it, anyway.


    ¡°What is that?¡± she whispered hoarsely, never looking away from the spectre.


    Miller found his voice before I could, mumbling quickly. ¡°No idea. It seems like some kind of ghost.¡±


    Finally, thankfully, I was able to speak. It came out softly, broken up by the occasional crackling, but understandable. ¡°That¡¯s one theory, but there¡¯s a problem. Ghosts don¡¯t exist.¡±


    ¡°Apparently this one does!¡± Cat said, too loudly. ¡°Now, what d¨C¡±


    She was cut off by a sound like metal crashing together as the creature opened up its jaws, raising its head into the air. The vibration made its way through my body, shaking me to my core.


    Then, all of a sudden, the sound cut off, plunging the cemetery into near silence. The thick mist swirled around us, and my breath quickened, the escaping air booming like thunder as it fled from my lungs.


    The ghost, as I had begun to think of it, leveled its head, making eye contact with me and my friends. Around its flickering, dark gray form, the air began to move, rising and falling in sporadic bursts and thinning the mist, forming a halo of lighter gray around the creature.


    And, without warning, it sprang forward.


    It covered the ground incredibly quickly, skimming over the cold earth like a fighter jet during take-off. Knowing it would reach us within seconds, I jumped to the side, out of the way of the approaching ghost and directly into Miller.


    He didn¡¯t see me coming in the slightest, and automatically threw up his hands to protect his face, but that didn¡¯t stop me from barrelling straight into him. His elbow digging into my chest, we both rolled, sputtering, onto the uneven ground, coming to rest next to a cracked gravestone.


    Rising onto shaky elbows, I looked backwards frantically, hoping to see that Cat had gotten out of the direct path of the ghost as well.


    To my surprise, it was the exact opposite¨Cshe was standing still, knees bent, eyes locked with the beast. For whatever reason, she wasn¡¯t moving. She was going to try and face this thing head on.


    ¡°Cat¨C¡± I began, but it was too late. The ghost was less than five feet away, and was only moments away from making contact with her.


    I looked on with fear, waiting for her to be thrown backwards, or worse, but Cat never allowed it to get to that point. Waiting until the creature was within inches of her face, its unhinged jaws level with her steady gaze, she lowered her center of gravity, and jumped forward, onto the ground.


    The ghost sailed directly over her, launching forward with the momentum of a train loose from its tracks, and I expected that, with that amount of force, it would go quite a ways away before stopping, giving us time to escape.


    Of course, we weren¡¯t so lucky. Before even reaching the tree next to its original home, the ghost pulled backwards with all of its strength, coming to an abrupt stop and making a sound like a rat scurrying across a stone floor.


    I wondered why, instead of continuing forward and then swinging around to maintain its momentum, the spirit had tried so desperately to stop in mid-flight. However, I wasn¡¯t allowed to consider the problem for very long, as the sound of Cat hollering pulled me straight out of my thoughts.


    While I had been looking away, she had gotten back onto her feet and began running¨Cbut, rather than running away from the ghost, as you would expect, she was running towards it, hands clutched together above her head in a large fist.


    What are you thinking? I wondered, digging my fingers into the dirt. There was no way a direct attack was going to have any effect on that thing¨Cand even if it did, where would that get us? We needed to get away, not engage an angry ghost.


    But there was no way for me to tell her that, and I was forced to simply lay in the dirt and watch as she sprinted at the disoriented ghost¡¯s back, reaching it in seconds, and slammed her fists into the center of its spine.


    Her hands didn¡¯t phase through it: that was the first surprise.


    The second was that, rather than just giving it a shock or just making it angry, it actually hurt the ghost, sending it falling onto the ground, shaking slightly.


    Cat then made her first sensible move of the night: she ran. Feet pounding on the ground, she made it to us in no time, and Miller and I stood up to greet her.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± I asked. She looked at me with a small smile.


    ¡°I got it down, didn¡¯t I?¡± she said, in between breaths. ¡°Now what do we do?¡±


    ¡°We should probably get out of here,¡± I said, already moving towards the exit. ¡°Preferably before that thing gets up.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that might not be a good idea,¡± Miller spoke, for the first time in what felt like forever.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked, a little irritated at the time we were losing. ¡°Are you saying we should kill it? Because I don¡¯t think it¡¯s exactly possible to kill a ghost.¡±


    ¡°No, we don¡¯t need to kill it. Just stop it,¡± he said, completely serious. ¡°From what I can tell, that ghost is out for blood. We can¡¯t just leave it here to hurt other people visiting the cemetery.¡±


    I squeezed the bridge of my nose. He was right¨Cof course, he was right¨Cbut that didn¡¯t mean I was exactly jumping to get near the ghost again. ¡°Okay, how do you suggest we stop it, then?¡±


    ¡°We just need to get it back in its grave, right?¡± Cat said, surprising me. ¡°It stopped before it got to it before, almost like it was afraid. I bet if it gets too close, it¡¯ll have to go back in.¡±


    Her theory made me pause¨CI had noticed the ghost stop abruptly before it got to its original grave, but could it really be so easy to get rid of it.


    ¡°That might work,¡± Miller said, looking towards the ghost thoughtfully. It was stirring, breaking its way out of the stupor caused by Cat¡¯s attack. We had to act soon. ¡°It¡¯s our best bet, at least.¡±


    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s do it, then,¡± I said, trying to push the uneasy feeling rising in my gut down. ¡°What¡¯s the plan of attack?¡±


    ¡°Simple,¡± Cat said, slamming her fist into her left palm. ¡°One of us distracts the ghost in front of the grave, while the other two get behind it and push it in. It¡¯s foolproof!¡±


    Although I wasn¡¯t entirely sure her plan was that airtight. While Miller and I did go over a few specifics regarding exactly how we would go about her plan, neither him nor I voiced any better suggestions. Besides, the ghost, which had been fumbling around on the ground for the majority of the conversation, had finally regained its composure, and had righted itself, returning to its position floating a few inches above the ground.


    While it¡¯s pretty difficult to pull of an angry look when most of your face is a comically-large human skull, somehow, the ghost did it.


    The ghost stared at the three of us for a moment, and we stared back. Then, as if angered even further by our insolence, it began to bellow, throwing its head back and rattling the few leaves of a nearby tree.


    Impossibly, Cat bellowed louder. ¡°Go!¡±


    We broke into a run, Cat and Miller veering to the left while I headed right. In the few seconds we had had to go over strategy, it had been decided that I would act as the decoy. This decision was based almost entirely on the fact that I was weaker than Cat, which made her necessary to do the pushing, while being just barely more physically fit than Miller, giving me a better chance of getting away in time.


    I won¡¯t say I agreed with the reasoning, but it¡¯s not like I had a choice.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.Five seconds later, I was standing in position, about five feet behind the grave, staring at the ghost while attempting to control the rate of my breathing.


    The plan was, as Cat said, simple¨Cthe ghost was already near its grave, and so all I had to do was keep its attention long enough for Cat and Miller to push it back into it. Easy enough, in theory, but actually pulling it off is a different story.


    Rather than looking at either me or my friends, the ghost continued to stare vacantly at the spot we had just been standing, as if it was groggy on sleep medication, which wasn¡¯t the best for us. From that position, it would easily be able to spot Cat and Miller as they approached from the side, which would make our whole plan pointless.


    Of course, that¡¯s where I came in. I took a shaky breath, forcing the breath downwards in an attempt to calm my nerves. Then, when I caught sight of Miller and Cat on the opposite side of the gray figure, I called out.


    ¡°Hey! Over here!¡± It probably wasn¡¯t as loud as it should have been, but I tried, even going so far as to cup my hands over my mouth to amplify the sound.


    Whether you could call it luck, I¡¯m not sure, but whatever the force of the universe that was at play, it caused the ghost to shift its ethereal body to face me. Glancing at me with liquid eyes, I noticed a twitch rise in its jaw, the cracked bone shifting back and forth as it prepared to do I-don¡¯t-know-what.


    Just looking at the ghost in that state was bad enough, but my job didn¡¯t end there. I knew from watching Cat that this thing had no qualms about attacking a sitting duck, so if I was going to avoid getting brutalized by the undead, I had to move.


    My feet didn¡¯t seem to want to work in accordance with my brain, but I pushed forward despite the subconscious resistance, running towards the ghost and wondering¨Cnot for the first time¨Cwhat in the world I was doing.


    For a minute the creature just stood there, maybe wondering how stupid a single human could be, but that didn¡¯t last long, and within moments the mist had begun swirling once again, forming a fast-spinning vortex around its flickering form.


    Based on the events leading up to its attack on Cat, I could only believe that it was about to charge. I clenched my teeth, digging my fingernails into my palm, and planted my feet firmly on the ground. If I¡¯m being honest with myself, there was no possible way for me to pull off anything similar to what Cat had accomplished with the ghost, but if I was lucky, maybe I¡¯d at least be able to survive attack with slightly less gruesome injuries.


    The ghost roared a final time, the black spheres in the center of its face bulging ever-grotesquely, and the mist around its body dispersed. It was charging, and I took a sharp breath.


    Cat got to it first, literally leaping onto the ghost¡¯s back as it was seeking to charge at me. Under her weight, the ghoul sank towards the ground, the bottom of it¡¯s cut-off torso hovering mere inches from the mist clinging to the soil. I watched in awe as Cat held onto the creature writhing in her grip, the only features visible through the thick mist being her bright hair and the void-filled eyes of her mount.


    I firmly believe, to this day, that her actions the¨Cexcuse the pun¨Cnail in the coffin for the ghost. Everything that came afterwards were simply theatrics.


    While I looked on, both relieved at not being charged and dumbfounded that Cat had jumped the creature, Miller walked up in front of the struggling shade, grabbed it by the collar¨Cthat is, if ghost¡¯s even have collars¨Cand pulled it downwards, towards its eternal resting place. It hit the ground with a dull thud and, finally gaining control of my legs, I ran over.


    Cat and Miller were both staring at the ground, almost solemnly, and I wondered why they continued to stare at the ghost, rather than get out of there. Looking down, however, the answer became clear.


    On the ground, lying on its back in front of the rubble of a grave, was the image of a man¨Ca flickering, dark, translucent image of a man, but a man nonetheless. He was frail, clothed in nothing but flowing gray rags, and his straight face gave off an aura of calm that radiated around the entire cemetery, draping the night in a veil of comfortable silence.


    His eyes were closed, almost as if he were sleeping, and in that state the ghost sunk back into the ground, taking the mist with it and returning to the cemetery the soft light of early morning.


    Finally, it was over, and somehow we were alright.


    ¡°So, he was just an old man the whole time, huh?¡± Cat said, quietly.


    ¡°That¡¯s what it looks like,¡± I said, my voice equally soft.


    None of us wanted to shatter the tranquil state of the cemetery and, without speaking, Cat walked forward, kneeled down, and began to carefully pick out pieces of stone from the rubble of the ghost¡¯s headstone.


    Miller and I watched in silence as she slowly constructed a square out of irregular pieces of stone, placing it directly over the grave of the old man.


    ¡°Sorry for disturbing you,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you can rest well for a while, now.¡±


    And with that she stood, turning to us and parting her lips in a small smile.


    Miller and I blinked, not sure how to respond at first. Eventually, however, Miller decided to break the silence.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s best that we get out of here.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± I said, and Cat nodded as well. Without another word, we began to walk back towards the entrance.


    We only made it four steps before the next weird thing happened. It started with a warm feeling in my gut that spread quickly throughout my body, flowing into my fingertips, to the crown of my head, and through to my toes.


    I stopped in my tracks, took a deep breath. Behind me, I could have sworn I heard someone whisper.


    At my side, Cat had also stopped, and had gently placed her hand over her stomach. She looked at me, caught the look in my eyes, and then, slowly, turned around.


    Her eyes widened, and I turned to see what she was looking at.


    It wasn¡¯t at all what I had expected¨Cjust like with the ghost¨Cbut in this case it was more general surprise than a quick spike of fear that met me when I turned.


    Directly in front of us, floating about five feet above the ground, was a small ball of light, only slightly larger than a ping-pong ball. Bobbing up and down gently, it sent off pulses of iridescent light, flashes of colors everywhere from green to purple to orange.


    I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off of it.


    Cat and I stared at the sphere for what felt like forever before Miller appeared at our sides, eyes narrowed. None of us spoke, each caught in the conflicting intensity and gentleness of the light it sent forth.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Cat asked, eventually, barely moving her mouth as she asked the question.


    I thought about it for some time, trying for a moment to explain the existence of the ball of light before abandoning the idea completely. There was no way to explain this¨Cif I really thought about it, I would say it was scientifically impossible, something you could never expect to see occurring in nature.


    But, still, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯d seen that light somewhere before.


    Cat , of course, broke me out of my trance.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to touch it,¡± she declared, straightening her back and striding forward, hand outstretched, eyes wide.


    I shook my head quickly. ¡°On a list of bad ideas, I think I¡¯d place that at the top. Do you know how hot that thing probably is?¡±


    She didn¡¯t listen, and I determined that I would have to stop her from making a terrible decision myself. Moving forward, I tried to reach out and stop her, but she reached the orb of pure light before I could.


    Her hand was outstretched, palm sideways, pointer finger extended slightly, as she looked at the light curiously, almost reverently. Then, so quickly that I don¡¯t think even she expected it, her finger brushed up against the sphere, and it disappeared in an outward explosion of light.


    For a moment, time stopped, as if my consciousness had been thrown outside of the walls of reality. My eyes filled with light, my senses merged, and it felt to me as if every moment from the creation of the universe to its end had condensed, wrapped itself up into a single point and then dissolved itself into my very being. Into my soul.


    It felt like an eternity but, eventually, the light faded from my eyes, and I saw Cat against the backdrop of the cemetery, which now looked exactly as it had when we had first entered. She was staring blankly at the ground, blinking slowly.


    I looked down myself, saw my hands. For a moment, I found it hard to believe that they were my own, but the sensation quickly passed. I looked back at my friend.


    ¡°Did you feel that, too?¡±


    Cat simply nodded, looking at me, brown eyes filled with wonder.


    That was when Miller ran up, stepping between us and looking back and forth, eyes wide with concern, his mouth slightly agape.


    ¡°Are you two okay? How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Cat said, and I nodded in agreement. And, really, I was¨Caside from a lingering feeling of warmth in my chest, I felt completely normal.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± he said, arching his eyebrows. ¡°That s¨Cthat¡­light didn¡¯t do anything to you?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine, Miller!¡± Cat replied, walking up behind him and throwing an arm across his shoulders. ¡°What are you so worried about?¡±


    ¡°N-nothing,¡± he said, throwing her arm off. ¡°It¡¯s just that the blast caught you two right in the face. I wanted to make sure you weren¡¯t blind or anything.¡±


    ¡°How sweet,¡± Cat purred, tapping Miller¡¯s cheek. ¡°It¡¯s good to know that you care about us so much.¡±


    ¡°Oh, whatever,¡± Miller said, his face flushed. ¡°How about we just get out of here? We don¡¯t want to waste the whole day in this cemetery.¡±


    Cat¡¯s face brightened. ¡°Sure thing. I¡¯ve got tons of ideas about what we could do next!¡±


    She then began rattling off a list of activities that we ¡°just had to do,¡± walking side by side with Miller towards the exit. I followed slightly behind, glancing at the square of stones Cat had arranged on the cold earth.


    The ghost, the light¡­.both were things I would have never believed possible, and yet, in the same day, I¡¯d seen both of them with my own eyes. Two absolutely impossible events occurring, one after the other.


    And I had a feeling they weren¡¯t going to be the last.


    But I pushed the thought aside. Someday, someday soon, we would have to face the reality brought on by those events, but not today.


    Today I was going to have fun with my friends.


    A few feet in front of me, Cat and Miller turned around, Miller with his hands in his pockets, Cat with both waving wildly in the air above her head, her mouth wide in a smile. She called out.


    ¡°You coming, Asher?¡±


    I smiled, and moved forward. ¡°Yeah.¡±


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


    Author''s Note: Here it is, the finale to volume 1! What are you guys thinking about the story so far? Be sure to let me know, and thanks for reading.

 Volume 2 - Chapter 1

    Light filtered through the canopy, bouncing off of the faces of round leaves and casting slanted shadows on the uneven forest floor. Following a path more ancient than many of this world¡¯s most prominent civilizations, two angels strolled through, taking care to keep straight and avoid veering into the thick underbrush.


    As they advanced, feet crunching on long-fallen leaves, the angel following behind raised his head, dark hair shifting in the breeze, and shielded his eyes from the unevenly distributed rays of light.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I find it hard to concentrate here,¡± he said, blinking. ¡°The sun comes in at such an odd angle, it is nearly impossible to avoid its glare obstructing your vision. Maybe in the future we should choose a more agreeable location to spend our evenings.¡±


    His companion looked up into his squinted eyes, and gave him a slightly apologetic smile. ¡°I know, I know, it can be a little jarring, but still, I don¡¯t think we should choose another place. The light makes everything look so much more vibrant and colorful. I don¡¯t want to give up on that just yet.¡±


    He didn¡¯t respond, instead choosing to shift his gaze ahead, holding up a hand absent-mindedly to block out stray beams of soft sunlight. They walked together in silence for some time, admiring the beauty of nature¨Cas always¨Cbefore the silence became too much for her to bear.


    ¡°Anyway, Sariel, don¡¯t you think it would be a little difficult to find a new meeting place, after all this time?¡± she asked, gauging his expression for any hint as to what he was thinking. He didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said, after some time time, ¡°although I believe if we were to truly apply ourselves in the attempt we could accomplish it without much difficulty.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but that would be no fun,¡± Remiel said, leaning forward to examine a translucent red insect scuttling along the edge of a fern. ¡°This place holds so many memories, after all.¡±


    ¡°Memories remain, no matter where you are.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± She blew softly on the creature in front of her, sending it spiralling into the air on thin wings. She followed it upwards with bright eyes, experiencing an outstanding amount of wonder in the reality of flight for one who had access to it herself. ¡°Aside from that, how have things been lately?¡±


    Sariel, eyes switching between the slightly overgrown path and the low-hanging branches of the trees surrounding them, let out a long breath.


    ¡°Busy, to say the least,¡± he said, allowing a beetle to crawl from his shoulder to his finger before transferring it to a low-hanging leaf. ¡°As of late, it seems the number of souls which need aid in reaching the afterlife grows each day, while our numbers rarely increase. It¡¯s becoming more and more difficult to oversee it all as time goes on.¡±


    Remiel didn¡¯t respond, instead focusing her attention into climbing over a fallen tree. Sariel, following her lead and lowering himself gently onto the path once again, decided to fill the silence.


    ¡°And as for you? How has your time been put to use lately?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Remiel paused, attempting to recall the events of the past few weeks. ¡°Well, I guess nothing¡¯s been happening, really. Unlike with you, He doesn¡¯t seem to have a set purpose to me, so I spend most of my time in general inactivity.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well,¡± Sariel began, clasping his hands together behind his back, ¡°I am sure that He will reveal to you your true potential in due time. Have there been no resurrections lately?¡±


    ¡°None.¡±


    She stepped forward and kneeled in front of a small pink flower that rose no more than three inches from the densely-covered ground, on top of which an orange butterfly sat, its wings bobbing upwards and downwards in a steady rhythm.


    Sariel stood behind her silently as she examined the creature, her eyes tracing its patterns, following the brown swirls upwards until they merged into the dark border of its wings. Eventually, she stood, closing her fist and glancing at the angel beside her.


    ¡°Hey, Sariel,¡± she said. ¡°Has it ever felt to you that there is no reason for your existence? That your entire life was purely an afterthought?¡±


    He looked taken aback, his eyes widening and his mouth opening slightly, but his response came out as cool as ever, his resolve as hard as stone.


    ¡°Never.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.Remiel smiled. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. You¡¯ve known what you were meant to do since the beginning, so there¡¯s no reason for you to doubt your place, huh?¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± Sariel replied, turning his dark eyes towards the ground. Then, so silent it was almost difficult to hear, he began ¡°Remiel¡­¡±


    Her ears perked up as she attempted to hear what he had to say, but he wasn¡¯t allowed to finish, the soft sound of his voice being cut off by the loud fluttering of wings above their heads.


    The two angels glanced up quickly, wondering what type of creature had created the noise. Scanning the treetops, it wasn¡¯t difficult for Remiel to pick up the source of the sound¨Cthe pitch black crow stood out against the green foliage like a single storm cloud over a blue sky.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s for you?¡± Remiel said, not taking her eyes off of the bird, which had begun to preen its feathers, rearranging the shadowy plumage with an equally dark beak, seemingly content to wait as long as necessary for their conversation to come to an end.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so,¡± Sariel said. ¡°It seems to be time for me to return to my responsibilities.¡±


    He turned, ready to apologize to Remiel for having to leave on such short notice, but she interrupted him before he had the chance.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Sariel. Go back to your dead people,¡± she said, waving her hands in front of her dismissively and turning her head to the side. ¡°They need you more than I do right now, don¡¯t they?¡±


    Sariel nodded, and turned to make his way out of the forest. The crow vanished as he made his way forward, disappearing into the sky above the treetops with an almost imperceptible rustle of leaves. However, just as he was about to disappear within the foliage, Remiel called out to her friend.


    ¡°By the way, it¡¯s been a long time since you last heard me trumpet, hasn¡¯t it? Maybe next time we meet up, I should bring it with me and show you how good I¡¯ve gotten!¡±


    He turned around, and although it was faint, Remiel caught sight of a small smile on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± he said, holding his hand up in farewell. She reciprocated the gesture, and although she expected him to make his leave there, he stepped slightly forward and looked her in the eye, his voice echoing through the forest. ¡°Oh, and Remiel. I won¡¯t pretend to speak for our Father, or pretend that I have any knowledge of His plans for us, but I do want to tell you one thing.¡±


    He paused for a moment, the forest buzzing softly in place of his voice. When he spoke again, the words seemed to hold even more power than usual, shooting into Remiel¡¯s thoughts like an electric shock.


    ¡°I do not believe that any of us are an afterthought. You are here for a reason, you just need to find it ¡°


    With that, he vanished, his figure dissolving in a dark mist and leaving Remiel to stand alone on the darkening path. She stayed that way for some time, listening to the buzz of insects, the swaying and swishing of the branches of the trees above her head as they moved along with the wind. The sun worked its way across the sky slowly, elongating the shadows on the forest floor, a shifting mosaic that swayed in time with the leaves.


    And still, Remiel stood, lost in her thoughts, going over ideas in her head that only moments before she never would have begun to entertain.


    Eventually, however, as the wind died down and the buzz of life in the forest lowered to a murmur, Remiel began to move once again, travelling further forward down the path she and Sariel had walked together and into the shade of a large, twisting old tree.


    Sitting down at its base, she thought back to her conversation with her friend once more, his final words to her ringing in her ears.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just got to find it, huh?¡±


    Closing her eyes, Remiel tilted her head back, and allowed the soft light of sunset , breaking through the canopy against all odds, to reach her, one last time.


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


    Author''s Note: And onto the second volume! I hope you''ll stick with me and this story as it continues, thanks for reading!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 2

    My alarm pulled me from my sleep, ringing in my ears like a trumpet-player hitting a high note, and I shot up, rolling to my side to avoid the sound and nearly falling off of my bed. But, before that could happen, I shot my arm out, slamming it on top of my nightstand and saving myself from a future laying face-first on my bedroom floor.


    Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I took a look around my room, blinking slowly and trying, without any luck, to convince myself to sit up and get out from under the haphazardly-arranged sheets.


    It was only 7:30, but rays of bright light already dominated my room, hitting the mirror on the far wall and reflecting onto nearly everything within it, from my closet door, to my laptop and even the dirty clothes strewn across the floor.


    Scratching my head, sending small strands of red into my face, I thought about how hot the day ahead was probably going to be¨Cif it was already so hot this early, I could just imagine what a blazing day I had ahead.


    Just then, as I sat groggily in my bed, contemplating the day that had hardly even begun, I realized something.


    ¡°Wait¡­¡­.seven-thirty?!¡±


    Without a second thought, I leapt out of bed, heading across my large room¨Ctripping over objects of all sorts every step of the way¨Ctowards the bathroom, which lay on the opposite wall of my bed. As soon as the door closed, I threw my pajamas off, topping off the pile I had amassed in the corner with the lightly-used articles, and jumped in the shower.


    While the hot water washed over me, steam rising around my feet, I tried to figure out how my alarm clock had ended up set to ring at 7:30, rather than my usual time of 7:00. Although I couldn¡¯t really believe it, I must have somehow slipped up the night before and input the wrong number the previous night.


    ¡°Oh man, I left Asher and Miller to walk to school alone, too¡­¡± I muttered, lathering my hair with coconut-scented shampoo. I imagined my friends walking to school without me, probably wondering what had happened to me, and I felt kind of bad¨Ceh, but what could you do?


    Deciding that they would definitely be able to get over it¨Cthey¡¯d been fine when I went after Frogger, after all¨CI stepped out of the shower, drying myself off with a plush green towel as quickly as possible and bursting back into my room. My school uniform was hanging on my door, right where Mona, one of our cleaners, had left it the night before, right after telling me to make sure I set my alarm for school the next morning.


    I¡¯m sorry for letting you down, Mona! I thought as I quickly pulled some underwear on and put my school uniform on, hoping she could receive telepathic messages but knowing she probably couldn¡¯t.


    And, with that, I was out the door, grabbing my bag and phone on the way out, stray water droplets flying from my damp hair and coating my shoulders with small circles a shade darker than the rest of the fabric. Wasting no time, I kicked the door closed and ran as fast as I could down the ornate hall, nearly running into one or two fancy vases and actually knocking over an oil painting of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck, but I forged on, hoping he would forgive me.


    Finally making it to the steps after what felt like an eternity, I jumped down three at a time, checking the clock on my phone. It was 7:40¨Cnot bad time, overall¨Cand I had maybe twenty minutes to make it to school without being counted tardy. With that thought in mind, I skipped the final four stairs, landing on the ground with a stud and breaking into a run once again, heading towards the kitchen.


    The noise hit me before I even turned the corner, the clinking of silverware and the ring of several voices as they prepared breakfast for both my parents and the employees scattered about the house and the grounds. Making it to the large double-doors with small, steam-covered windows allowing a small glimpse into their work, I pushed forward, tumbling into a world of smell.


    Shuffling around the various tables scattered throughout the room, the chefs carried trays of all different shapes and sizes, steam rising up and making its way to my nostrils, revealing glimpses of what lay inside, although the scents of bacon, ham, eggs, kulcha and especially cinnamon buns stood out to me the most.


    While I stood there for a moment, lost for a moment in the embrace of the pure concept of breakfast food, the head chef, Luciano, came up to me, smiling to reveal large, well-set teeth hiding partially behind a thick brown mustache.


    ¡°Ah, Catriona!¡± he said, spreading his arms out in a gesture almost as welcoming as the food itself. ¡°Have you come for your breakfast, my girl?¡±


    ¡°Mm-hm,¡± i said, nodding and licking my lips. ¡°But I¡¯m running a little bit late today, Luciano, so it¡¯s gotta be quick. Can I just have a piece of toast, maybe with a little butter on top?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± he asked incredulously¨CLuciano is no stranger to my appetite, and I¡¯m sure he expected a little more out of me¨Cbut I nodded seriously, and he took the hint. ¡°Of course, of course. It¡¯ll just be a moment.¡±


    It took exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds for Luciano to prepare the toast, a masterful invention with just the right amount of butter spread across its top, as well as a little something extra I couldn¡¯t recognize, although I knew it would be delicious. I thanked Luciano quickly, taking a bite of the toast for good measure, and jogged out of the kitchen, avoiding trays and tables as I went.


    The rest of the way to the front doors was pretty much a straight shot, and I headed down a few halls and through the main hall even faster, counting my steps and making sure not to lose pace. I met Wilson at the door and, seeming to sense my hurry, he opened it without any questions or attempt at conversation.


    ¡°Thanks, Wilson!¡± I called as I rocketed past. ¡°Say bye to mom and dad for me!¡±


    He nodded, and I passed the threshold, jumping over the steps to the ground entirely and hitting the ground at a run. I looked at my phone once again, my old keychain-turned-phone-strap whipping around and hitting my wrist, and I steadied it with my other hand, checking the time.


    7:46.


    Okay, you can do this, Cat. I thought, giving myself a much needed psych-up¨CI¡¯d learned a long time ago that the best way to do the impossible is to just convince yourself that you can. My legs pumping and my heart racing, I upped my speed even more.


    Although a lot of my walk to school is in a pretty isolated area without many buildings, which makes it easy to run through, that¡¯s not the case for all of it: towards the end, I hit a pretty hardcore stretch of city, and that¡¯s where things get difficult.


    Running along the main street, I was forced to dodge passerby on their (generally leisurely) way to work, spinning and sliding to keep up my speed while doing so. It was hard work, I¡¯ll admit, but there was no way I was letting myself be late again¨Cif I was, I¡¯d never hear the end of it from the teachers or Asher and Miller.


    I kept up that way a while, dashing along the sidewalk and keeping out of people¡¯s way as much as I could, but as I neared the school, something caught my eye that forced me to slow down for the first time since leaving my house.


    To my right was a small stand, manned by a tiny old man with dark, wrinkled skin and a large straw hat sitting on top of his head. His attire was enough to make me look twice, but when I did, I noticed the actual contents of the stand: it was covered from top to bottom in newspapers.


    Okay, I¡¯ll admit that I¡¯m not really the type of person that sits down and reads the paper once a day, but when something catches my eyes in it there¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to pass up taking a look.


    And boy did that headline catch my eye.


    On top of the thin gray page, nestled under the ¡°Local News¡± heading, was a relatively small article, titled ¡°¡®Ghost¡¯ Problem Escalates in Small Town,¡± which I was barely able to read, as I was still moving at a steady jog. However, as soon as I saw the word ¡°ghost¡± I backpedaled, already reaching into my bag for my wallet.


    The old man looked up at me, his eyes wrinkling in a smile and shifting the age spots on his face. ¡°Are you interested in buying a copy, young lady?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± I said, regaining my composure. Taking what was left of my allowance from the week before from the front of my bag, I paid for the paper and left at a jog, even more anxious to get to school than I was just a few minutes before.


    I checked the small, pixelated time in the upper right corner of my phone screen. 7:55¨Cmore time had passed than I had expected, and stopping to get the paper hadn¡¯t helped with that, but I was determined to get to school on time.


    Exhaling in one large, hot puff of air, I doubled my speed.


    Making it there on time was tough, but I was somehow able to make it to school, throwing myself up the stairs and trying my best to return the stray glances of the other latecomers, many of whom were running just as fast as I was.


    It was close¨CI just wish that we had slow-motion video to document the occasion¨Cbut I made it through the door just as the bell rang, dashing to my seat and plopping down with a thunk. The fact that no one even looked up as I entered didn¡¯t escape my notice, but I decided to ignore it, turning in my chair and getting the attention of my friends instead.


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    ¡°Guys, you have to take a look at this,¡± I said, holding the newspaper to my cheek to give them a view of both the article and my smiling face.


    They were all sitting down, staring at their papers as they worked the bellringer that was scrawled delicately on the board for our next class. Surprisingly, Asher, sitting directly across from me, was the first to respond, glancing over at me and raising his eyebrows.


    ¡°Your hair¡¯s damp,¡± he said, finally, his gray eyes flicking upwards. ¡°It looks more the color of cherries than strawberries now. Actually, it¡¯s kind of fitting.¡±


    My hand immediately flew up to the crown of my head, and I patted my hair which was, as he said, still a little damp. For a moment, I couldn¡¯t respond, completely blind-sided by him declining to comment .


    But it only took a moment for the familiar fire to rise in my chest, and I shot back the first response I could think of.


    ¡°You¡¯re the last person I want to hear that from, Asher.¡± I said with a smile, maybe alittle bit too loudly. ¡°Just take a look at your hair. You¡¯re practically a snowman!¡±


    Asher didn¡¯t reply, squinting his eyes and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. He looked deep in thought, and for a moment I wondered if I¡¯d gone too far¨Calthough both of us joke about it a lot, Asher¡¯s always been more sensitive about his weird hair color, and I try not to bring it up that often.


    He continued looking forward, silently, for a moment, before turning in his seat to face the front of the room. Without a sound, he lowered his head slowly, touching his forehead on the desk and leaving his arms to hang loosely from his side.


    ¡°Yeah¡­.¡± he muttered, patting the back of his head lightly. ¡°You¡¯re right. That comment was out of line. Sorry.¡±


    Yep, probably too far.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s fine,¡± I said immediately, trying to get him out of his funk. ¡°It¡¯s alright, strawberries and cherries are delicious, so I¡¯m fine with my hair matching them. And, you know, your hair isn¡¯t that much like an old man¡¯s¡­.¡±


    His shoulders slumped further, and I shut my mouth, deciding not to even try going further into it. Usually, Asher and I are pretty good about only joking about things we¡¯re both cool with, but on rare occasions one of us will make a comment¨Coftentimes hair-related¨Cthat serves only as a punch in the gut to the other.


    I¡¯ve learned from experience that, when that happens, it¡¯s best to quit while you¡¯re ahead.


    ¡°You know, I don¡¯t think you two should worry about it,¡± Ayame said, coming in for damage-control as usual. I turned around to see that she and Miller had both looked up from their work, as well. ¡°Your hair color is unique, of course, but I think that¡¯s part of why it¡¯s so cool.¡±


    ¡°Ayame¡­¡± I tried to muster more, but I couldn¡¯t seem to form the words. The girl is so sweet, sometimes it¡¯s hard to even comprehend.


    To my left, Asher rose slowly, his paper-white hair coming to rest messily above his eyes, which, I swear, held a look of what I could only describe as determination.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Ayame,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°These are the cards I¡¯ve been dealt, and I have to learn how to appreciate them.¡±


    ¡°Well, now that we¡¯re past the hair drama again, what was in that newspaper, Cat?¡± Miller said quickly, most likely trying to keep the conversation from proceeding in that direction. ¡°There was something you wanted to show us, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh. that¡¯s right!¡± I said, grabbing the newspaper from my desk and pushing it towards him. ¡°Check out the first article under ¡®Local.¡¯¡±


    Miller scanned the page and quickly found it, setting the paper flat on his desk so Asher and Ayame could do the same.


    They were silent as they read, and I fidgeted in my seat as I waited for them to finish the article. It only took about two minutes, but it felt more like two hours, and by the time Miller lifted his eyes from the page I could barely contain it anymore.


    ¡°So, what do you guys think?¡± I asked. ¡°Pretty cool, huh?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s interesting, yeah,¡± Asher said, glancing back at the paper as he tugged at his collar, ¡°but why exactly were you so set on us reading it?¡±


    ¡°Why was I so set on you reading it?¡± I asked incredulously. Asher¡¯s smart, don¡¯t get me wrong, but sometimes he seems to have a hard time grasping simple concepts. ¡°Because I want us to go and find the ghost, obviously.¡±


    ¡°Find the ghost?¡± Ayame asked, leaning forward. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little much to travel all that way just for a story?¡±


    For a minute I didn¡¯t understand her point, but then it hit me¨CAyame hadn¡¯t been with us when we met the ghost in Italy, and we had decided not to tell her. For all she knew, they didn¡¯t exist.


    ¡°It does sound like a lot of work, without a lot of gain,¡± Asher said. ¡°Most likely there¡¯s just a stray cat in the town that one person mistook for a ghost, and the story got out of control.¡±


    ¡°You too, Asher?¡± It was hard to believe being shot down twice in a row, but I still had one chance. I looked at Miller. ¡°What about you, Miller? You want to check this out, don¡¯t you?¡±


    He yawned, glancing at me and the others before shrugging his shoulders. ¡°Well, it probably is just a story, but it¡¯s not like I have anything else to do tonight. If you really want to, I guess I¡¯d go.¡±


    Yes! I pumped my fists in the air, blinking tears from my eyes. With one down, I just had to find a way to convince the other two, and I began running over my options in my head.


    Ayame shouldn¡¯t be hard to convince, as long as she isn¡¯t busy. I thought. So, it¡¯s just Asher that I have to break through.


    Under normal circumstances, it would have been nearly impossible to sway Asher onto my side without much of a struggle, but this time it was different.


    This time, we were talking about ghosts.


    Asher tried to hide it, but ever since the fiasco in Italy, he¡¯d been eager to figure out just what had gone on there, and why the three of us were attacked. Although the three of us had thought about and discussed it plenty, he was obviously more into getting to the bottom of it¨CI¡¯d even caught him checking out books on the subject from the school library.


    Knowing that, the battle had been decided before it even started.


    ¡°Well, Asher, even if it is fake,¡± I began, trying not to sound too victorious, ¡°wouldn¡¯t this be a great opportunity to check out an area known for ghost encounters? No matter what, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll learn something.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say anything at first, probably trying to seem disinterested, but his eyes betrayed him. Making eye contact with me, he sighed.


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right. At the very least, it could be fun to hear all of the different stories.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then, it¡¯s decided!¡± I said, clapping my hands. But still, I wasn¡¯t completely done. ¡°But what about you, Ayame? You¡¯re free tonight, right, so are you going to come along?¡±


    She seemed indecisive at first, glancing at her notebook as if it tethered her to evenings of boringness, but after a moment she forced it closed, smiling a little.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m free,¡± she said. ¡°And I think you¡¯re right. This should be a lot of fun.¡±


    At that point, I couldn¡¯t hold it in anymore, and I jumped forward, sliding over the top of Ayame¡¯s desk and locking her in an awkward around-the-shoulders hug.


    ¡°Ayame, you¡¯re the best!¡± I said, squeezing even tighter. She squirmed a little bit at first, but eventually accepted her fate, patting me lightly on the back. ¡°You won¡¯t regret this!¡±


    ¡°Okay, Cat,¡± Ayame whispered, her eyes flicking to the other members of the class, all of whom had shifted their gaze to us. ¡°Class is starting. Will you let go, please?¡±


    In the end, it was up to Miller and Asher to pry me off of Ayame and seat me back in my chair, just as our English teacher walked through the door, a pile of old books in his hands.


    Although it looked like I was in for a tough day of classes, I didn¡¯t care, because as soon as they were over it was going to be worth it¨Cwe were finally going to have a real adventure.


    ¡°Get ready, guys,¡± I whispered, as the voice of our teacher drifted around the room. ¡°We¡¯re going ghost hunting!¡±


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    Author''s Note: Oh, cool, another chap--wait a minute, s this from Cat''s POV? That''s right, now we get to hear about these crazy adventures straight from the girl who causes them! I hope you enjoy, and remember to comment or rate the story if you''ve been enjoying it. Thanks!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 3

    School couldn¡¯t end quickly enough, and I found it difficult to pay any attention at all as my teachers cycled through our classroom, reading from thick books and trying, unsuccessfully, to get the students in my class to participate. Mostly, I just alternated between pushing the lead out of my pencil and holding down the eraser to force it back in--sure, it was probably going to come back to bite me later, but I had more important things on my mind.


    As soon as I got through the school day, we were going to look for a ghost. Finally, after weeks of looking back on what happened in Italy and skirting around the topic with Asher and Miller, we were finally going to do something about it.


    In truth, I almost couldn¡¯t contain my excitement, and before our science teacher was even able to pack up her books and markers after the bell rang I was out of my seat, pulling Asher and Miller by their wrists, trying to win an expert-level match of tug-of-war with their desks. They started out with a strong lead, but I was sure that, with time, I could best them.


    ¡°Come on, guys,¡± I said, tugging once more. ¡°We¡¯re losing daylight!¡±


    ¡°Just hold on, Cat,¡± Asher replied, pulling his arm away from my grip and illegally interrupting the match. Miller followed soon after, completely destroying my dreams of the championship. ¡°Class just ended. We have plenty of time.¡±


    ¡°And besides,¡± Miller said,flexing his wrist, ¡°don¡¯t ghosts usually come out at night? It¡¯s not like we have to be in any rush getting there.¡±


    I thought for a moment. Technically, Miller was right--whenever you saw ghosts moving objects around and getting up to their other nefarious, otherworldly deeds in the movies, it was during nighttime, wasn¡¯t it?. But, still, I didn¡¯t take that to mean we had to waste time doing nothing before we left for the mission.


    ¡°Oh well,¡± I responded, having worked out my position in my head. ¡°Even if we don¡¯t have to get there before dark, why shouldn¡¯t we? It doesn¡¯t take that long to get dark at this time of year, anyway.¡±


    Behind me, Ayame stood up, her bag slung over her shoulder.


    ¡°I agree with Cat,¡± she said. ¡°If we take into account driving time and looking around the town itself, it¡¯ll probably be close to dark by the time we¡¯re ready to do any exploring. With that in mind, we should probably leave sooner, rather than later.¡±


    I could have easily hugged her again, but I held off for her sake, figuring she wouldn¡¯t want another intense public display of affection in front of the entire class. In the end, I settled with clasping her shoulder and giving her a quick smile.


    ¡°Well, you two, Ayame has spoken,¡± I said happily. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Although I couldn¡¯t see their reaction, as I had already turned around and begun walking towards the door, I was sure they¡¯d follow me. No matter how much they tried to argue that we should take our time to get ready, there was no way they would want to just hang out in the classroom alone while Ayame and I headed outside.


    And sure enough, when I reached the doorway out of the classroom and turned my head, all three of them were coming with me, ready to get out of school and start our adventure for the night.


    Without a word, I led them out of the school, navigating the familiar halls of the building with ease, avoiding throngs of students heading either home or off to participate in afterschool clubs. Within two minutes we were out of the front gates, and I pulled out my cellphone, speed-dialing Genji¡¯s number with a click of the number ¡°3¡± and waiting as the phone rang.


    Looking behind me, I noticed Asher and Ayame also on their phones, most likely calling their parents to let them know about their plans for tonight, while Miller leaned against the outer wall of the school. In my right ear, the ringing halted abruptly, being replaced by Genji¡¯s rough voice on the other line.


    ¡°Hello, Miss Catriona?¡± he said, using his best polite-voice. ¡°Are you in need of my services?¡±


    Although I knew he wasn¡¯t actually that interested in what I might need, he did his best to try, and I had to applaude him for that.


    ¡°Hey, Genji,¡± I said, twisting my finger around my makeshift phone strap. ¡°There¡¯s somewhere I¡¯d like you to drive me and my friends. Do you think you could come pick us up in front of the school thing, please?¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course,¡± he said. I heard movement in the background. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there, Miss.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Genji. You¡¯re the best!¡±


    By the time I hung up and made my way back to the others in front of the school gates, Ayame had already finished her phone call, and Asher was just getting done with his.


    ¡°Yeah, alright,¡± he was saying, his back turned to us and his eyes pointed to the sky. ¡°Yeah. Okay. I¡¯ll call when i¡¯m coming home, alright? Okay, bye.¡±


    He hung up and turned to face us, shoving his phone into his pocket. Slipping his schoolbag off of his shoulder, he leaned against the wall next to Miller, sighing.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m good,¡± he said, unbuttoning the top button on his collar. ¡°How about you guys?¡±


    ¡°My mom is fine with it, as long as we¡¯re not back too late,¡± Ayame replied. Asher nodded, before tilting his head towards Miller.


    ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re good, too,¡± he said. ¡°Your parents are pretty much cool with whatever you do, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re not too hard on me.¡± Miller shrugged, glancing at the ground. ¡°Not that they really can be.¡±


    ¡°And I called Genji!¡± I announced quickly, now that I they were all on board with the plan. ¡°So, we are officially good to go.¡±


    There were no cheers of approval or anything, like you could expect from a good crowd, but my friends did nod at the news, so at least I knew they could hear. With that knowledge in mind, I continued my speech.¡±


    ¡°Okay, before Genji gets here, I think we should go over our plan of action,¡± I said, slamming my fist into my palm. ¡®We¡¯ll have to split up, obviously, to cover more ground.¡±


    ¡°Split up where, exactly?¡± Miller asked, sinking down against the wall and sitting on the ground. ¡°Aren¡¯t we just gonna walk around the town and see if we find anything?¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± I said immediately, shaking my head. ¡°We can¡¯t just ¡®walk around.¡¯ This has to be a structured exploration of the epicenter of paranormal activity.¡±


    ¡°You mean the abandoned house they mentioned in the article?¡± Ayame asked, moving to the wall beside Asher and leaving me to stand at the front of the group.


    I nodded vigorously. ¡°Exactly, Ayame. I wouldn¡¯t expect any less from you. We¡¯re heading straight to the action and checking out the house where reports say it¡¯s all going down!¡±


    Asher, who had remained relatively quiet up until that point, finally decided to speak up.


    ¡°Okay, first of all, isn¡¯t that illegal?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m fine with checking out the area and listening to some stories, but I don¡¯t think I want to break any major laws over this.¡±


    ¡°Some laws are meant to be broken, Asher,¡± I assured him, hands on my hips. ¡°You always play everything so safe. Don¡¯t you want to live a little?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m living right now,¡± he shot back, shrugging, ¡°and I¡¯d prefer to continue doing so out of prison.¡±


    That was pretty much as classic of an Asher response as you could get, and I planned on giving him a thorough smack-down on the topic of the best way to spend your youth, but the sound of Genji¡¯s tires roaring towards the school spared him his fate.


    Just barely.


    Within a few seconds Genji had parked the van directly in front of the school gates and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. He waltzed over, making sure to avoid his usual swagger (with good results), and stood in front of me.


    ¡°Hello, Miss Catriona,¡± he said, giving me the small bow he felt to be necessary due to my parent¡¯s wealth. ¡°Where are we off to today?¡±


    ¡°Ah, right,¡± I said, and fished the newspaper out of my bag. I handed it to Genji, who scanned the lines quickly, his green eyes darting across the paragraph as he read. After a moment, he handed it back.


    ¡°Okay, that¡¯ll be an easy one,¡± he said, giving me a thumbs-up. ¡°We¡¯ll be there in an hour and a half, tops.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± I said, turning to the others. ¡®Come on, guys. It¡¯s time to go.¡±


    Ayame followed quickly, but Asher and Miller hung back a few steps, obviously trying to avoid brushing up too close to Genji. Of course, when it comes to him, acting like that is the last thing you want to do, which Asher and Miller were soon to find out.


    It only took a few seconds for Genji to catch on and, with a gleam in his eye, he slowed his steps, allowing Asher and Miller to catch up to him. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the two attempted to sidestep him and move forward, but Genji was too quick, throwing his long arms out and simultaneously ruffling Asher¡¯s hair, sending the white locks flying upward, and poking Miller in the center of the forehead.


    The two staggered back, bringing forth a great roar of a laugh from Genji, who even went so far as to grab his stomach and bob up and down as he did so. Asher and Miller both shot him a look that could curdle milk, but he remained completely unaffected.


    ¡°Come on, Mazawa,¡± Asher said, trying (without much luck) to fix the ghostly strands of hair rising two inches off of his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t even say anything to you.¡±


    ¡°How about you cool down, old man?¡± he smiled, dismissing Asher¡¯s complaint with a wave of his hand. ¡°You just looked so stressed, I figured I¡¯d give you a few pets. It releases dopamine, you know?¡±


    ¡°Maybe for cats and dogs,¡± Asher grumbled, licking his fingers and patting a few more strands down.


    ¡°And what about poking me in the head?¡± Miller asked, patting his forehead gingerly. I wondered briefly if he was still sore from my super-powered flick a few weeks ago, but I pushed the thought aside.


    ¡°Eh, no reason.¡± Genji shrugged, which didn¡¯t seem to do anything to alleviate Miller¡¯s annoyance.


    Although I was content to leave them at it until we got into the car, Ayame didn¡¯t seem to be as cool with it, tapping me in the elbow and whispering, ¡°Do you think we should step in or something? It looks like they¡¯re all getting heated.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we really have to,¡± I responded, glancing back at the group, who, from the looks of it, had begun a competition to see who could untie each other¡¯s shoelaces with nothing but their feet. ¡°They go at it all the time, but I think, deep down, they actually have fun together.¡±


    Of course, if either Asher or Miller actually heard me say that, they¡¯d have a different story to tell you.


    In the end, partly out of consideration for Ayame and partly because I wanted to leave as soon as possible, I did end up calling Genji away from the two, and we each filed into the van, one by one. I took the front seat, eager to see the house as soon as I could, and the others arranged themselves behind me, Miller and Ayame in the middle, Asher at the back.


    ¡°Alright, ladies and gentlemen,¡± Genji said, turning the key in the ignition and adopting his best announcer¡¯s voice. ¡°Please buckle your seatbelts, and enjoy the ride. Estimated arrival time is in ninety-five minutes.¡±


    And with that, we were off, rolling quickly across the earth, towards our destination. As we drove, I attempted to talk to my friends, but turning around every few seconds began to get me, and I resigned myself to talking mostly to Genji, and only joining them occasionally. The curse of shotgun--it¡¯s a heavy burden, but it is a cross I must bear.


    The ride passed quickly, and I spent most of my time staring out of the window and discussing mid-20th century boxing with Genji, a topic which he had a surprising amount of interest in. Behind me, I could hear Miller¡¯s soft snores mixing with Asher and Ayame¡¯s discussion--I think it was about some book series they had read--and I decided not to interrupt them as we continued travelling closer to our goal.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I think it was around when Genji was telling me about the symbolism in the 1938 Louis vs. Schmeling match when we got there, turning onto a small suburban side street and parking just before a small tree rooted in the sidewalk.


    The house sat about fifty feet ahead, nestled behind two large weeping willows, a decrepit, dirty white building with nearly half of its siding stripped away with time. The yard, as compared to the various others present in the small town, was wildly overgrown--the grass and weeds were sure to rise at least to the middle of my shins.


    ¡°Here we are,¡± Genji said proudly, glancing at the time. ¡°And four minutes ahead of schedule.¡±


    Immediately, I turned around. Asher and Ayame were both awake, looking out of the window at our surroundings, while Miller continued to doze. Luckily for me, he was close enough that I could get a hold of his knee, and I grabbed hold and shook it around until he opened his eyes.


    ¡°We¡¯re here, Miller,¡± I said, as soon as I was sure he could register my words. ¡°Let¡¯s go, everyone.¡±


    I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the passenger door, before turning towards Genji.


    ¡°Thanks, Genji. Do you want to come in, too?¡±


    ¡°No, thanks,¡± he said quickly, leaning back in his seat and placing his hands behind his head. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna hang out here and take a nap. Come and get me when you¡¯re ready to go.¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡±


    With that, I jumped out of the car, not waiting for the others to catch up as I rushed towards the house. As per Ayame¡¯s prediction, the sun was already setting in the distance, casting the entire town in an eerie glow, and I didn¡¯t see any other people making their way around.


    Good, I thought. More action for us.


    Within a few seconds I was in the yard, wading through the tall weeds and dodging the pieces of rotting wood and rusted metal littered across the ground. What little light remained in the sky filtered through the ancient-looking willows, checkering the ground with patchwork lines of light, and as I passed under the nearest tree I reached up, letting the brown leaves slip through my fingertips.


    They looked ancient, and I wondered at all that the trees must have seen in their time on this planet. All of the mysteries they held the answer to.


    Hopefully, tonight, we would find out.


    Eventually, I made it to the porch of the old house, and sat on a rotting step while I waited for my friends, who were picking their way carefully through the untended yard, to catch up. When they made it to me, they each glanced up at the house in turn, towards the broken, rectangular attic window at the top.


    ¡°So, we¡¯re actually just going to break into this house, huh?¡± Asher said, squinting at the slumped roof, his voice slightly disapproving.


    ¡°It¡¯s not ¡®breaking in,¡¯¡± I assured him, pushing myself into a standing position and forcing a hollow creak out of the decayed wood. ¡°We¡¯re exploring. Gathering information.¡±


    He didn¡¯t respond, continuing to examine the dark outline of the building. Miller and Ayame, who were standing just behind him, moved forward and each took a few tentative steps up the ancient planks, scraping their feet against the surface of the porch.


    ¡°Are we sure this is even safe?¡± Ayame asked, stomping her foot on the porch a few times. Her foot didn¡¯t crash through, which I took as a sign of structural stability.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s safe,¡± I replied, joining them on the porch and leaning on the frayed railing before quickly taking my hand away and beginning to work out the splinter the action had caused. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m going to go in. Feel free to follow me.¡±


    Without another word, I walked forward with as much purpose as I could muster, placing a hand on the cold, loose doorknob of the front door and pushing inwards. Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t locked, and opened on my second push, the rusted hinges squealing slightly but otherwise giving way without any problems.


    Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside, ignoring the dust that rained down on my head from the ceiling and forging my way to the center of the room. My friends followed close behind, Miller closing the door after he entered and lowering the amount of light available even more, lowering it to the equivalent of dusk.


    Still, I could see, and that¡¯s all I needed.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I whispered, looking at each of my friends in turn. ¡°Now¡¯s the time to split up and search. Look for anything mysterious, and report back here in fifteen minutes. Miller and Ayame, you take the ground floor. Asher and I can handle upstairs.¡±


    They all agreed to my plan without much fuss, and we each went our separate ways, Miller and Ayame making their way out of the main room to explore the rest of the lower floor while Asher and I moved forward, stepping around plastic covered furniture and a broken ceiling fan to reach the steps. Without a word, we ascended, moving slowly on the dust-covered steps.


    ¡°You know, I really hope this house wasn¡¯t made with asbestos,¡± Asher said, glancing towards the ceiling, but I shushed him before he could say any more--we couldn¡¯t have him disturbing the ghost.


    After making it to the top of the steps, I stood to the side, motioning Asher forward. To me, the best plan of action seemed to be to each start on opposite ends and work our way towards the center, and it seemed that Asher agreed with me, as he walked to the other end of the narrow hall without another word.


    Looking forward, I counted five rooms--two on the left and three on the right-- and I decided to begin on the more crowded side, stepping to my left. I had hardly moved an inch, however, when something caught my eye.


    On the right side of the hall, just off of the top of the steps was a door. It lacked a handle and was painted the same dark blue as the rest of the wall which, in the dark, made it almost impossible to discern, but once I caught sight of it I was sure.


    That room was hard to see for a reason, and I had to find out what it was.


    Spinning on my heels, I made my way to the door, resting my hand on the rough opening that, at one time, must have held a doorknob. After a split-second of hesitation, I took a breath and pulled, the worn-down wood of the door dragging against the carpet. After a few seconds of force and a lot of jiggling, I got the door open, and took a step into the room.


    It was tough to see, as the room had no windows, but after giving my eyes a moment to adjust and pushing the door open as far as possible, I got just enough light to get the general makeup of the room.


    The first thing that caught my attention was that it was almost completely empty, consisting of only a dark, dusty wooden floor, a rusty gold-colored bed frame, and a giant cabinet sitting on the ground at the opposite end of the room.


    Then I noticed the zebra--a small wooden toy lying on its side at the base of the cabinet that looked like it belonged in one of those Russian doll sets. Under normal circumstances, it was the kind of thing I would just overlook, a toy left behind by a previous family, but something about the room drew me to it, made me want to see it up close.


    I crossed the distance of the room quickly, and knelt on the hard floor in front of the cabinet. Slowly, carefully, I picked up the doll. Although it looked like it would splinter at the slightest touch, I was able to get a good grip on it and brought it close to my face.


    Some of the paint had chipped off, revealing the light shade of wood beneath, but it was otherwise completely recognizable, covered in black and white stripes with two large black eyes printed on its face. Overall, it seemed like a normal, old-timey doll, but for some odd reason, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it was more than that.


    But I wasn¡¯t in the dark for long. As I turned the doll about in my hand, I noticed something odd about the coloring. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it was becoming lighter, transforming from a dirty white and black into light blue and, I noticed, it wasn¡¯t just the doll that was changing color--my hands were, too.


    Then, I realized what it was. Looking up, I came face to face with a little girl, her small, floating figure hovering inches above the ground, casting a soft, almost nonexistent blew glow around the entire room. Her transparent dress, flowing in an invisible wind, covered the doll and my hands, resulting in both the change of color and the rising chill I felt in my fingertips.


    There were a thousand things I could have done in that moment, but I didn¡¯t do any of them. Instead, I continued staring straight into the dark blue eyes of the girl, silently, the words ¡°I found the ghost¡± ringing in my head like a bell. She blinked, stepping backwards in the air, and I smiled at her, trying to communicate that I wanted to be friends.


    That¡¯s when she started screaming.


    It came out of nowhere--she didn¡¯t even open her mouth when it happened--and the pure power of the sound knocked me backwards immediately, crashing on the wooden floor, clutching at my ears and slamming my eyes shut. The shriek was soul-splitting, primal, the kind of sound that would dwarf the uproar of a thousand nuclear bombs set off at once.


    I continued to clasp my ears, trying to find an escape from the noise, but there was none--it shot past my hands, penetrating the deepest recesses of my mind, travelling through every inch of my body, shaking through my fingertips, vibrating each and every one of the two hundred and six bones in my body, even bouncing from chamber to chamber in my heart. The explosion of sound crashed through me, invisible waves shooting through my blood vessels, my veins, crystallizing and expanding, forcing their way outward.


    Her shriek was consuming me. It went on for an eternity, and then again, until I could no longer tell where her screams ended and mine began before circling back again. I continue to lay on the ground, writhing in explosive agony, eyes shut, teeth clenched, ears blocked, trying to cut off every avenue of sensation.


    Eventually, however, it became too much. The onslaught continued, and I could no longer stand the mental and strain of even attempting to avoid the sound. I let my hands drop to the floor, relaxed my jaw. I opened my eyes.


    The world looked different--shakier, less defined--but I could still recognize the forms of Asher and miller, lying on the ground a few feet in front of me, faces digging into the hard surface of the floor, fingers grabbing uselessly at their ears. They were caught in the same cycle I was, thrust into the world of endless sound, endless experience, endless agony.


    And it was because of me. It was because we had found the ghost.


    Although I could no longer feel any physical sensation--every one of my senses had long since succumbed to the all-encompassing scream--I felt warmth on my cheek. I took one last look at Asher and Miller, and hoped, somehow, they would get out of here. That they would take me with them.


    My eyes closed once again, on their own, and I let out a slow breath, ready to submit to the sound myself. Ready to escape it, once and for all.


    And that¡¯s when Ayame walked in.


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


    Author''s Note: Who you gonna call Hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you enjoyed it!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 4

    I was in what used to be a kitchen, examining the tarnished silverware that littered the floor and wondering exactly what it was I was supposed to be looking for, when I heard Cat scream. The sound was muted, travelling through the faded, stained ceiling before reaching my ears, but it was unmistakable, and I moved toward the door to the living room without a second thought.


    Before I could even reach the doorway I heard a rapid thumping sound, both above and in front of me, which led me to believe that both Asher and Miller were already on the move.


    Good, I thought, entering the cluttered living room and stepping over a dusty ceiling fan box and around a busted cabinet. At least they¡¯ll be there.


    As I took my first tentative step on the rickety staircase, I wondered what could be going on up there. In all of the time I had known Cat, there weren¡¯t very many things that could elicit a scream from her--cute animals and honorable combat notwithstanding--and I could hardly imagine she had found a baby bunny or her long-time nemesis in the house.


    For a brief moment, my thoughts flashed to all of the horror movies I had watched as a child, and my mind filled with images of hordes of rats, yellowed skeletons, and Freddy Krueger, but I pushed them out as quickly as they came. In this situation, the last thing I needed to do was freak myself out before even getting to Cat.


    I continued up the stairs, and was nearly halfway to the second floor when the screams hit my ears again, only this time, rather than Cat doing the yelling, the shouts were male. Whether it was Asher, Miller, or both, I couldn¡¯t tell, but it honestly didn¡¯t make much of a difference.


    The message was clear. Something bad was happening.


    A small drop of panic rising in my chest, I contemplated calling 911, but the idea died before I could fully entertain it--I had turned off my phone in the car, and if I tried to turn it on then I wasn¡¯t sure I could avoid the sound of it booting up. In the end, I couldn¡¯t justify taking the risk, and I instead ascended the steps slowly, silently, questioning my sanity with each stride.


    My plan, if you could call it that, was to reach the second floor, unnoticed, and get a view of what was going on before deciding whether it was necessary to jump ship or not. However, as soon as I made it to the top and caught a glimpse of the scene taking place, I knew that wasn¡¯t happening.


    To my immediate right, a dark blue, handle-less door had been thrown open roughly, revealing the events taking place inside of the small room once hidden behind it. Standing at the top of the stairs, my view unobstructed, I noticed with shock that Cat, Asher and Miller had all already entered the room, and all three of them were on the floor.


    That was when my fear and panic for my friends took over, and I entered the room without thinking of the consequences. Stepping onto the hard wooden floor, my eyes moved to each of them: Miller sputtering and attempting to choke out indiscernible words, Asher shaking and clasping his ears, and Cat lying face-down, her hands tangled in her hair. I had no idea what in the world was going on.


    But then I noticed the girl.


    She was floating, my first clue that whatever was happening wasn¡¯t normal, her translucent form drifting from left to right, her dark eyes locked onto the center of the room. As I looked at her, trying to wrap my head around the fact that she wasn¡¯t touching the ground, her entire see-through body flickered, disappearing momentarily, followed immediately by another round of moans from my friends.


    I took my eyes off of the girl quickly, instead focusing them on Miller, the closest one to me. Kneeling on the ground next to him, I grabbed onto his shoulders, tilting his face towards me. his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth slightly open as he moved his lips silently, forming invisible words.


    No matter how many times I said his name and , he wouldn¡¯t respond, and I lowered his head gently back onto the ground. The girl, who from what I could tell was some sort of ghost--regardless of the fact that they shouldn¡¯t exist--was once again floating in the back of the room, bobbing up and down next to an antique dresser. The hem of her dress and the strands of dark hair falling over her pale face shifted slightly, as if blown by a soft breeze, and I noticed her small hands clenching and unclenching, forming a fist and releasing it in a steady rhythm.


    Looking at her, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Obviously, her presence was having some sort of negative effect on my friends--why it had no impact on me, I have no idea--and I had a feeling that if something didn¡¯t stop her soon, the result wouldn¡¯t be pretty.


    With that thought in mind, I stood up, hands shaking, ragged breaths rising and falling in my chest and somehow escaping my lungs in the process, and did something I never would have expected of myself.


    I walked forward.


    The ghost didn¡¯t move, continuing to float in the nearly empty room, shimmering occasionally and sending my friends into another fit of wincing and moaning, and I reached her in a few steps, coming within feet of her glowing blue form.


    She was smaller up close, in almost every way imaginable. Her eyes, two dark discs spaced apart by a tiny button of a nose, stared forward, unfocused, as her thin lips parted, opening and closing as if she could not bring herself to talk.


    Her hair, dark as the night sky, now blew around wildly, twisting left and right, tangling and untangling within itself randomly, and I realized with a start that her hair was actually longer than her. Amazingly, I noticed that the girl barely came up to my chin, despite floating six inches off of the ground.


    Although I had been in the room for at least a few minutes by that point, and had been standing near the girl for a good chunk of that time, I don¡¯t think she noticed my presence at all until I was standing directly in front of her. As I looked her up and down, trying desperately to gain any hint of information as to what to do to stop her from hurting my friends, she shifted her gaze to me, observing me with the dark circles that passed for her eyes.


    Then, she opened her mouth, and got ready to scream.


    Luckily for me, I didn¡¯t get to the point where I actually heard the scream. Instead, as her form flickered wildly, her mouth opening wider and wider by the second, I was transported into a different room in an instant, and found myself alone, both my friends and the ghost nowhere to be seen.


    To be honest, the scream would have been a lot easier to process.


    At first, I tried to find the others, heading back to the door, ready to burst into the hall and search the house, but that proved useless almost immediately. Although I was able to walk through the doorway at the end of the room, as soon as I did so I would find myself back in the center of the same exact room I had been moved to.


    Like I said, the scream would have been easier.


    Not knowing what else to do, and trying as hard as I could to avoid the feeling of dread bubbling in the pit of my stomach, I explored the room, wading through the piles of toys that littered the rough surface of the floor and looking for anything that might show me a way out.


    Checking under the bed, which lie on the far wall, I found nothing but a few small pairs of shoes and one pair of slippers, and had similar luck in the dresser, which contained a large number of dresses and small shirts, but not much else. The toys, although they were interesting to look at--especially the animal-themed Russian nesting dolls--were similarly useless, and within a few minutes I had searched the entire room, with nothing to show for it.


    Wonderful, I thought, sitting cross-legged on the floor and burying my face in my hands. First a ghost knocks all of my friends out, then it traps me in an inescapable room.


    I sat there for a while, worrying about how my friends were doing, while at the same time wondering how I was doing, before I heard the whimpers. At first I thought I was hearing things, and continued to take solace in the darkness of my palms, but as they grew in volume, I was forced to recognize that it wasn¡¯t just me imagining things. I took my hands away from my face, and looked around the room.


    It was pretty much exactly the same, with the same mounds of toys lining the walls and covering the floor, the same matching bed and dresser rising up from the sea of wood, metal and plastic, and the same blank walls. However, in the corner of the room by the bed, one thing was different.


    There was a girl.


    I recognized her immediately--her small hands, clutched to her chest while opening and closing steadily, her thin lips and button nose and, most noticeably, her flowing black hair giving her away. Despite being recognizable, however, I saw that she looked nothing like she had when I first saw her.


    For one, she was no longer translucent, and now simply held the appearance of a pale girl, rather than a blue see-through ghost. Along with that, a large change came in the form of her eyes, which were now a light shade of blue.


    The biggest difference, though, was her expression. The straight-faced, otherworldly girl I had encountered only moments ago had all but disappeared, replaced by a sniffling, frail child who kept gazing at me from across the room with tear-filled eyes that shone like crystals.


    Although I knew it might be a mistake, I felt the need to cheer her up.


    While I was a little wary of getting close to the ghost who had injured my friends and transported me to some kind of alternate realm, the look on her face forced me to overcome the feeling, and I crawled towards the girl, who never once took her bright eyes off of me.


    After shuffling forward a little more, scraping my knees on the hard wood of the floor and avoiding the occasional toy, I made it to the corner of the room where the girl was huddled, and sat up on my knees, folding my hands in my lap.


    The ghost girl looked at me, the room around us silent all but for the sound of her sucking snot back into her nose. I looked into her eyes, watching the tears continue to well up, threatening to spill over, and one thing became clear to me.


    This wasn¡¯t just a ghost. It was a little girl.


    With that knowledge came an entire new scope of feelings--my fear transformed immediately into compassion and, above all, protectiveness, and I became determined to stop her from crying. To find out what was wrong.


    So, to start, I smiled.


    ¡°Hi,¡± I said, waving. ¡°My name is Ayame. Do you mind if I ask yours?¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond at first, pulling her knees up higher and partially hiding her face, only allowing one eye to remain focused on me. I was ready to try again, but before I could, she finally spoke, her quiet voice muffled by her arm.


    ¡°Christine,¡± she mumbled, looking away quickly. I waited to see if she offered up any more, but after nearly a minute of silence I decided that was all she was willing to offer.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice to meet you, Christine,¡± I offered, transferring from my knees into a sitting position. She kept her face buried away and, after some thought, I decided to see if I could get her to open up. ¡°Is something the matter?¡±


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    Once again, she didn¡¯t respond, and I feared I had messed something up--with only an older sister and no younger relatives, I had virtually no experience in dealing with children--but after a few minutes of my silent panic, she poked her eyes over her arms.


    ¡°Gone¡­.¡± she whispered, staring at the floorboards without offering more.


    ¡°Gone?¡± I repeated. ¡°Who¡¯s gone?¡±


    ¡°Gone,¡± she said again, and lifted her face fully. Tears welled in her eyes, which had begun to blaze, shining like emeralds in a spotlight. Her voice rose, and the tears spilled over. ¡°Gone! They¡¯re gone! They left, and they won¡¯t come back! Mom and dad are gone, they took the others, and now they¡¯re going to take me too!¡±


    Quickly, she turned and hid her face again, trembling slightly while I sat there, wide-eyed at her sudden outburst. Facing the wall, Christine began to sob, the force of the angered explosion catching up to her.


    But, amidst her broken cries and half-spoken words, one rang out clearly.


    ¡°Mom.¡±


    Up until that point, I really had no idea what was going on, other than the fact that the girl was upset. However, once parents were added into the mix, the pieces began to fall together in my mind.


    She was a ghost--I had accepted that--and, at the end of the day, that meant that she had died. If ¡°They¡¯re gone¡± was referring to the girl¡¯s parents, I could assume that either they had left upon their young daughter¡¯s death, fleeing their ghosts, or possibly died themselves.


    Either way, it meant that Christine had been left alone.


    Truthfully, at that point I was at a loss for what to do, but there was no way I could back out now. I had to help Christine, one way or another.


    That was when an idea hit me. It was a little odd, maybe, and there was a good chance it would do nothing to help her, but I figured it was worth a shot.


    ¡°Is it alright if I tell you a story?¡± I asked, leaning forward slightly.


    Christine didn¡¯t answer, but she turned slightly to face me, her feet scraping on the floor. Taking that as the go ahead, I took a breath and began.


    ¡°When I was little,¡± I began, ¡°I had a friend named Madison. We were in the same class, and ended up spending most of our time together. No matter what we were doing, it was so much fun, just because the two of us were together.¡±


    She made no comments, and I couldn¡¯t tell whether or not Christine was getting anything from the story, but I continued, either way.


    ¡°We were friends for years, but one day, while we were working on a project for school together, Madison told me that we weren¡¯t going to be able to play anymore,¡± I said, images of flowing brown hair and a gap-toothed smile filling my head. ¡°Her parents were moving, and she had to go with them. We were so young, so we didn¡¯t exchange phone numbers or addresses. The next week, I said goodbye to her after school, and she left. I haven¡¯t seen her since that day.¡±


    Surprisingly, telling the girl in front of me the story brought back stronger feelings than I had anticipated. As I was staring at the ceiling, remembering, Christine¡¯s voice came as a surprise.


    ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± she muttered, glancing at me shyly. I looked back, and gave her a small smile.


    ¡°It is sad,¡± I agreed, ¡°but that¡¯s not the end. After Madison moved away, I was alone for a while. It was hard to make friends, and for a while I didn¡¯t think I ever would again, but then a new girl moved into my neighborhood. She was so loud, the first time she spoke the entire class pushed their seats back and blocked their ears.¡±


    Christine smiled, and I kept going with my story, almost as much for my sake as for hers.


    ¡°One day, while I was doing my work, the girl came up to me and asked me my name,¡± I said. ¡°I told her, and she said she was named Catriona, and then told me that we were going to be friends, and that we had to play later. I¡¯m not entirely sure why, but I knew that she was right.¡±


    Silently, I noticed, the girl in front of me had shifted, and was facing me straight on.


    ¡°Later that day, when I met with her, I found out that it wasn¡¯t just us. Standing behind her, there was a boy with hair the same color as snow. I knew him from my class, but I had never talked to him before. Catriona introduced us, and within no time, we had all become friends,¡± I said. ¡°A little later, another new kid moved into the neighborhood, and Catriona immediately brought him with us everywhere, too.¡±


    I paused, took a breath, continued.


    ¡°When Madison moved, it seemed like I was never going to have any friends again,¡± I said, looking into Christine¡¯s vibrant eyes. ¡°But I was wrong. It took some time, but I ended up getting the three best friends I¡¯ve ever had.¡±


    My story completed, the cluttered room descended into silence, and I looked at the small girl in front of me, hoping she got something from my speech, but having no idea what that something might be.


    As it turned out, that something was intense interest.


    ¡°You all became friends?¡± she asked, more energetically than I ever would have expected from the quiet girl. ¡°You still are?¡±


    After recovering from the stunned silence brought on by her sudden bubbly outburst, I laughed. ¡°Of course we¡¯re still friends. They¡¯re the ones that were with me today.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Christine said, her voice falling slightly. She glanced at the ground. ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said, hoping they were alright. ¡°You stopped hurting them, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she responded, fidgeting with the hem of her white dress. She looked up, opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. ¡°I was just...scared. They came in, and they were so loud, and bright. I wanted them to leave.¡±


    I smiled, imagining the shock of seeing Cat and Asher¡¯s bright hair in that dark room. ¡°I understand. You stopped, that¡¯s what matters.¡±


    She looked down once again, tiny strands of her dark hair falling past her face and touching the floor. Although I would have liked to speak more--ask for the way out of the room and back to my friends--it was easy to see that Christine needed some silence. Time to think.


    For a few minutes, I appraised the toys in the room, even finding a few that I recognized from my youth, but as I was in the middle of examining a plush alligator, the girl¡¯s voice pulled me back to her.


    ¡°Ayame,¡± she said quietly, surprising me with my own name. ¡°After the dark, my mom and dad left. It¡¯s sad, but maybe like with you and Madison, I can find more people to have fun with. I might not have to be lonely.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I said immediately, almost reaching out to her but deciding against it. Christine looked at me, eyes twinkling.


    ¡°I have a question,¡± she said. ¡°If sometimes other people leaving is okay, do you think it¡¯s okay for you to leave, too?¡±


    All around us, the room began to glow, as if someone was raising the intensity of the light bulb hanging over our heads.


    ¡°I think so, yes,¡± I whispered, knowing how important my words were. ¡°It¡¯s okay to leave, sometimes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Christine smiled, blurring at the edges. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for so long, I want to go. I want to make more friends, like you.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a great idea.¡±


    The light was blinding, but I felt her move closer, just for a moment, and I reached my arms out. It could be that I missed her because of the light, because she had already been pulled away, but I like to think it¡¯s because she had already turned her back and begun moving forward, leaving the place that had kept her behind for so long.


    I like to think it was because she could finally move, freely, to wherever it was she wanted to go.


    * * *


    As the light faded, I found myself standing in the dark, dilapidated room at the top of the stairs once again. After a brief moment of disorientation, I turned around, ready to find my friends and make sure they were okay.


    They found me first, Cat throwing her arms around me and calling my name while Asher and Miller each rushed forward, placing their hands on my shoulders.


    ¡°Ayame!¡± Cat said, her words muffled after travelling through my shoulder. ¡°Did you beat it? Did you stop the ghost?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± I blinked, and looked to Asher for an explanation. He shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t beat the ghost, just talked to her. I think she left.¡±


    Cat hugged me even tighter upon hearing that, although I put a stop to that quickly enough, knowing that once she got going it would be incredibly hard to peel her off. As she stepped back and straightened her clothes, Miller got my attention.


    ¡°Did you say you talked to the ghost?¡± he asked. His hair was a little disheveled, and his eyes contained a small spark of unease, but otherwise he seemed to be in good shape.


    ¡°Yeah, I told her a story and calmed her down,¡± I replied. ¡°Then she walked away and I came back here.¡±


    ¡°Amazing,¡± Asher muttered, looking at me as if he were meeting me for the first time. ¡°How did you do it? When the rest of us came in here the screams knocked us out immediately, but it doesn¡¯t seem like they affected you at all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I answered with a shrug, ¡°but that¡¯s not what¡¯s important right now. How are you guys? Are you hurt?¡±


    Cat had that one. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us, Ayame. It takes more than a yelling ghost to take down a few old pros like us!¡±


    Her eyes told a bit of a different story, but I decided not to press the issue. The situation was sure to be stressful for all of us, and it would probably be best to sort it out a little later.


    Instead, I decided to keep things light.


    ¡°Old pros, huh?¡± I asked, arching my eyebrows, to which Cat smiled.


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± She nodded. ¡°We haven¡¯t told you about it yet, but back when we were in Italy, we r--¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s save that story for another time, Cat,¡± Asher said, cutting her off before she could surprise me any further. He looked tired. ¡°I think it¡¯s best that we get out of here now.¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± Miller said, already moving to the door. ¡°We found one ghost, and that didn¡¯t turn out too well. I¡¯d rather not stay and wait until we find another.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you guys are no fun,¡± Cat complained, heading to the door herself. ¡°That¡¯s a good story, too!¡±


    Miller and Cat already out the door, Asher and I began to follow, but not before I shot him a look that I hoped clearly communicated ¡°There¡¯s no way you¡¯re getting off the hook with not telling me about what happened in Italy.¡±


    He got the message.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later, I promise,¡± he said. ¡°But for now, let¡¯s head out. If we don¡¯t catch up to Cat, there¡¯s a good chance Genji will leave without us.¡±


    And that was good enough for me. As we walked out of the room for the last time, I glanced around, remembering the toys scattered across the ground, the bed with its rumpled sheets, and the girl who had finally worked up the courage to leave it all behind.


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


    Author''s Note: Did something a little different here, with this chapter coming to you from Ayame''s POV. Hope you all enjoy!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 5

    The moon, a waning crescent the color of paper left to sit too long in the reams, hung low in the sky, casting a dull and slanted light on the grassy field. Alone, an angel walked, hands shoved in the oversized pockets of his trenchcoat as he noticed with despair the droplets of water congregating on the top of his genuine-leather shoes.


    With a sigh, he quickened his pace, heading for the line of trees barely visible in the dark, where they stood towering over a line of small sheds with far-too-large padlocks twisted onto their fronts, protecting the sports equipment and gardening tools inside from prying, foreign hands.


    The angel squeezed his way between the rough wooden walls of the nearest sheds and descended a slight hill, stopping to glance up at the tops of the trees for a moment before turning his attention to the ground. He ran a finger over the roots, the thin blades of grass, before reaching into his pocket again.


    This will do, he thought, producing a small silk bag emblazoned with a shining sun. He reached in and tenderly brought forth a cluster of small, yellowed teeth, which he cupped between his hands as if they were as valuable as a freshly-cut diamond¨Cwhich, he thought with a smirk, they were.


    Wasting no time, the angel set to work, using his free hand to dig at the ground, removing chunks of grass and dirt at a steady pace. When he had finished his task, resulting in a two-inch hole in the ground no longer than his hand, he lowered the teeth in carefully before filling the hole and standing, brushing off the bottom of his coat and clenching his teeth.


    When the demon spoke, he didn¡¯t even turn around.


    ¡°Planting spartoi, Barachiel?¡± he asked. The angel could practically feel the amused grin dancing across his face. ¡°That¡¯s so very dark of you. I¡¯m surprised.¡±


    Barachiel, measuring his voice to avoid displaying his inner thoughts to the enemy, turned to the side. ¡°Even evil things aren¡¯t so evil when used for a righteous cause.¡±


    The demon¡¯s laugh was so full that strands of his curly dark hair began to shake. ¡°Evil is always evil, no matter how you spin it. That¡¯s why it works so well.¡±


    The angel feigned disinterest. ¡°I don¡¯t think you really believe that, Naberius.¡±


    ¡°Eh, maybe not,¡± Naberius admitted. ¡°Then again, I¡¯m not so sure what to believe nowadays. I assume the same is true for you, my friend?¡±


    It was difficult for Barachiel to gulp down his response to the demon¡¯s shameless use of the word ¡°friend,¡± but he managed, through both sheer force of will and what he imagined to be the grace of God.


    Despite not getting an answer, the demon strolled forward, coming within inches of Barachiel and leaning closer¨Cto the point that if the angel moved so much as an inch he would brush against Naberius¡¯ close-cut facial hair.


    ¡°So, which one are they for?¡± he whispered. His breath smelled like cinnamon gum.


    ¡°I do not know what you are talking about,¡± Barachiel replied curtly, pushing back a strand of wavy blond hair that had been displaced by his breath.


    Naberius back up, his face overtaken by a serious mask. ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with me, angel. I know exactly what you¡¯re trying to do. Now, which one is it for?¡±


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    At any other time, the angel would have gone to his death before revealing such information to a demon, but under the current circumstances, Barachiel did not see himself as having a choice.


    ¡°The demon, preferably,¡± he replied. ¡°She should be easier to draw out. Although, the best case would be to get both involved.¡±


    With a low grunt, the demon shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at the thinning moon, the pale light catching in his eyes and casting them an odd shade of maroon.


    ¡°Did you ever think, just for a second, that we¡¯re not meant to interfere with this?¡± he asked, not of anyone in particular.


    Which, of course, meant that the question must be directed at Barachiel himself.


    ¡°Did you ever think that maybe we are?¡± he replied, giving the demon an unjustified smile of his own.


    With a small shake of the head, Naberius strolled past the angel, kneeling over the freshly upset earth.


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to do this, at least make sure no one can come and mess it up,¡± he said, placing a finger on the rough bark of the bottom of the tree, where it sunk in about half an inch, allowing him to carve out a small triangle on the surface.


    Removing his pointer finger from the base of the tree and placing the pad of his thumb in the center of the triangle, he let out a breath, setting the triangle alight for a moment with small lines of white-hot fire.


    Naberius stood up, clapping his hands together as a sign of a job well done, but Barachiel hardly took notice. Instead, he approached the tree, rising off of the ground until he reached eye level with the lowest branch. Seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a static gray dove, and placed it on the branch before lowering himself gently to the damp grass below.


    Without another word, the angel began to take his exit, shoving his hands in the large pockets of his trenchcoat once again and wondering about the fate of his shoes. The demon, with reluctance, followed him for a few steps, calling out to get his attention.


    ¡°One more thing,¡± he said. ¡°What do you plan on doing with them?¡±


    The angel stopped, and glanced back at the demon with narrowed eyes, although whether he was looking at Naberius or the trees was hard to tell.


    ¡°I¡¯ll lead them here,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s the only way I¡¯ll be able to make them come back.¡±


    With that, he disappeared, treading the soft grass of the field more quickly than before and dissolving into the night. Naberius kept his eyes on the spot where he disappeared for a moment, before turning and walking towards the shadows himself.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t let myself get shown up by an angel, can I?¡± he said, to no one but himself, before stepping into the shadows and flying out, a pure black crane making its way across the arc of a darkening sky.


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


    Author''s Note: Very short chapter here, but we''re starting to get an advancement in the story. Hope you enjoy!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 6

    Nearly a month after our second incident with a ghost, things had pretty much gone back to normal, at least in how we acted around each other. Of course, some things had changed¨CAsher was reading and searching the internet a lot more often, looking for information on ghosts and the supernatural, and Ayame had suddenly become much more interested in our trip to Italy and the brush with the ghost there¨Cbut overall, we were the same as we¡¯d always been.


    Meaning, at the moment, I was having fun.


    While Asher sat in his desk, shoulders hunched, flipping through a book older than my great-grandparents he got from one of our old teachers, I passed the time in a more reasonable fashion¨Cplaying paper football with Miller.


    ¡°And it¡¯s number 28, the flaming foot, coming up for the kick,¡± I said, deepening my voice as much as possible. Miller, about three feet away, held his index fingers up, touching his thumbs below them, and I lined up my finger to get the perfect shot. ¡°Can she do it? Can the mighty Catriona cement her place in history as the greatest kicker of all time?¡±


    As that final, pivotal question left my lips, I flicked my pointer finger forward in an outward explosion of power, striking the folded piece of paper directly in the center, sending it flying through the air in a straight line. Tiny pieces of the frayed edge of the paper it was created from falling to the ground like snow, it soared through the sky, before sailing straight through Miller¡¯s outstretched fingers and striking his chest, clattering to the ground and securing my victory.


    Had my life been a movie, a chorus of angels would definitely have accompanied the momentous feat. Unfortunately, my life wasn¡¯t a movie, but I think my roar of victory was a close second.


    While I sung my praises, thanking my fans, my parents, my coaches and teammates, Miller let his arms drop to the floor, picking up the symbol of his defeat and twirling it between his fingers.


    ¡°I can¡¯t even beat you in fake sports, I guess,¡± he sighed. ¡°I couldn¡¯t even get one point .¡±


    I laughed a little, flexing my wrist and working out the kinks of an intense game. ¡°It¡¯s all in the wrist and forearm, Miller. If you want to beat me, I¡¯d start off with a few wrist curls. You¡¯ve also gotta work on the power of your flick. You¡¯ve got good technique, but that¡¯s no help when you can¡¯t even get it to the other person¡¯s goal.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a great training regimen,¡± he said, nodding thoughtfully. ¡°That is, if I were weird enough to spend any amount of time training to be a better paper football player.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll never make it to the big leagues with that attitude,¡± I teased, snatching the triangle from his hands before tossing it up and catching it in the center of my palm. He simply shrugged, and I decided to turn my attention to another opponent. ¡°Ayame, do you want to be my next opponent?¡±


    She, like Asher, was reading a book, flipping from one page to the next with one hand and resting her head in the other. At first she didn¡¯t realize I was talking to her, but when I repeated my question she turned, and pushed some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear.


    ¡°Sorry, Cat, I¡¯m not very good at paper football,¡± she explained with an apologetic smile. ¡°Besides, there¡¯s no way I could stack up against a world champion kicker.¡±


    I was about to explain to her that, while I was a world champion, that didn¡¯t say anything about her own ability as an opponent, but before I could the normal buzz of the other students in the classroom died down suddenly, and I turned to see what the commotion was about.


    Standing in the doorway, a clipboard held at his side and a pen sticking out from behind his ear, was our gym teacher, a man I had almost never seen outside of the immediate areas of either the school gym or the multiple fields around the school building.


    He walked forward, making eye contact with each of us individually as he did so. As he looked at the students in the front row, I noticed him adjust the hem of his canary yellow collared shirt, pulling it away from his stomach before letting it drop and cling back onto the rounded area once again.


    By the time he made it to the middle of the room, his eyes had finally reached mine, and I gave him a slight smile, which he decided to dismiss without so much as a second thought (love you too, Mr. Matsuo!). Returning his attention to the center of the mass of students he was addressing, he pushed his hair, a swirling combination of dirty white and light gray, over the top of his head.


    ¡°Hello, kids,¡± he said, keeping his language as informal as it was in the gymnasium. ¡°I¡¯ve got a quick announcement for all of you, so listen up.¡±


    His eyes rested on Asher, still scanning the pages of his ancient ghost book, as he called for attention. Thinking on my feet, I let loose my foot from under my desk, making direct contact with his shin in a (kind of) discreet manner and snapping him to attention. With his fingers still on the last page he¡¯d read, he stared back at Mr. Matsuo and, although it seemed like a half-baked attempt to me, our teacher seemed to decide it was good enough.


    ¡°If any of you remember, we ran some announcements about the upcoming ¡°Fitness day¡± to be held at the school,¡± he said, the tempo of his words matching the speed at which his eyes scanned the paper on his clipboard. ¡°A reminder was posted both on the bulletin board and read on the morning announcements yesterday, and I¡¯m here to give you the details of the mandatory events planned for today¡­.¡±


    For a while, he rattled off a list of events, from running to shotput, that we would all be participating in, but I didn¡¯t pay too much attention. Whatever we did, I knew I¡¯d be fine¨Cit was Asher and Miller I was worried about.


    Glancing at the two of them, I could tell they were just as worried as I was. Asher, previously sneaking glances at his book whenever possible, was staring forward, mouth open slightly and eyes wide, while Miller simply covered his eyes with his hand.


    Hmph. I thought. I guess they forgot about it.


    After Mr. Matsuo finished reading his list, he took his leave quickly, telling us to do our best before heading off to another classroom to read them the same canned speech. Class started almost immediately afterwards, but not before Miller and Asher were able to fire off a few disapproving comments.


    ¡°Trying to make up for a year¡¯s worth of student inactivity in one day¡­.¡± Asher muttered, staring at his desk.


    Miller, his hands in his hair, followed it up. ¡°As if gym wasn¡¯t bad enough, they¡¯re going to force us to do even more? When will the forced fitness end?¡±


    ¡°Buck up, you two?¡± I said, pulling out my books for the shortened class. ¡°It¡¯s better than math, right? I think this¡¯ll be fun!¡±


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    After finishing our classes for the day and changing into our gym clothes, the entire student body migrated outside of the school, gathering into groups based on class and getting ready to begin the planned activities by stretching.


    As Ayame and I helped each other to stretch out, making sure to get as much out of the time we were given as we could, Miller and Asher sat off to the side, stretching their arms and legs but otherwise relaxing, waiting for the dreaded announcement to begin.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you guys think you should stretch a little more?¡± I asked, reaching towards my foot as Ayame pressed down lightly on my back. ¡°It¡¯s good for you.¡±


    ¡°We already stretched some,¡± Miller said, picking at the grass around his knees. ¡°We¡¯ll be good.¡±


    ¡°Cat¡¯s right, you two,¡± Ayame said as she switched places with me. ¡°Stretching before you exercise is important to avoid injuring yourselves.¡±


    Asher, laying on his back and looking at the clouds, gave us a lopsided thumbs up. ¡°I appreciate the thought, but trust me, we¡¯re not going to be participating near enough to risk any injury.¡±


    With a glance at Ayame and a shrug of my shoulders, I continued to stretch and prepare up until the static of a microphone sliced into the murmur of hundreds of teenagers in a concentrated area, and the voice of Mr. Matsuo took over the field.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he boomed, followed by a quick pause. ¡±Prep time is up, so get into your groups and follow your homeroom teacher¡¯s instructions. Fitness day starts now, so make sure to have fun out there!¡±


    His voice cut off suddenly and with that, we were off, following our homeroom teacher from station to station, participating in the activities that waited for us there before moving onto the next.


    At first, I tried to help Asher and Miller out, giving them advice from the sidelines and shouting encouragement their way, but after a while it just got difficult to watch their disinterested attempts at performing the tasks expected of them, and I decided to leave them to do what they wanted. From there on out, I just let myself have fun.


    I was in my element, throwing javelins and shot-put, running relays and races, jumping hurdles and climbing ropes, even shooting archery, and all in alI was having a great time. A lot of the time, I did pretty well at the activities¨Ca couple of times, I think I even broke some old school records¨Cbut otherwise I fell on the average or even below-average scale. Really, though, the results didn¡¯t matter that much to me, since I was just glad to get out of the school building for a day and run around.


    After a while, as I was sticking the landing on a standing broad jump, our homeroom teacher called a quick break before cracking open a box of bottled water and handing them out to all of us, which I accepted gratefully. Taking big gulps of the cool liquid, I searched around, and found my friends a little ways away, sitting on the grass to the side of the track.


    When I got there, I found Asher and Miller in even worse shape than I could have imagined.


    They were laying on the ground next to Ayame, silent all except for the ragged breaths that escaped their lung every half-second. Miller was laying on his side, clutching his stomach and trying to regulate his breathing, while Asher lay on his stomach, burying his face in the damp grass while opening and closing his fingers slowly.


    Then they began to whisper.


    ¡°Too much¡­.¡±


    ¡°¡­.activity.¡±


    I glanced at Ayame, looking for an answer, but she simply shrugged¨CI guess she had just got there, too. Sitting down next to her, I nudged each of them with my foot in turn, drawing out a groan from them both.


    ¡°You know,¡± I said, taking another sip of my water, ¡°it hasn¡¯t even been an hour.¡±


    They groaned.


    ¡°This is pointless.¡± Miller flopped onto his back and stared at the cloudless sky, wincing.


    ¡°Completely,¡± Asher agreed in a huff. He kept his eyes buried in the ground.


    We all remained quiet for some time, and I finished my water, crushing it in my palm and running it to a garbage can. When I got back, Ayame had moved closer to the two and begun sprinkling pieces of grass on their heads..


    ¡°Not that this helps much,¡± she said, letting the green flecks drop into Asher¡¯s hair, where they stood out like little Christmas trees, ¡°but you probably wouldn¡¯t be in such bad shape if you had stretched more.¡±


    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time, Ayame,¡± Miller said, blowing the grass into the air.


    She laughed, and I joined in in sprinkling grass on the pair. By the time our break was up and our homeroom teacher told us to gather up for a jog around the grounds, their entire upper bodies were covered, although I¡¯m not sure if they even noticed.


    Our teacher called for our class again and, as neither of them gave any indication of standing up, Ayame and I ended up having to do the heavy lifting, pulling them to their feet unceremoniously and sending uneven clumps of green falling to the ground.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± they both muttered, although I could see in their eyes that they would have preferred the comfort of the ground to the cold, harsh reality of jogging. To lighten them up, I gave them both a reassuring slap on the back.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, you two. This¡¯ll be easy.¡±


    With a nod, the four of us set off at a jog, following the other members of our class for a while before falling behind. Ayame and I had agreed, silently, to hang back with Asher and Miller, since the jog was simply meant to warm us up. Besides, the way their day was going, they could probably use the companionship.


    We jogged on slowly, silent aside from the rhythmic breaths escaping our mouths, and we crossed across the track, moving in line with the trees and approaching a group of old storage sheds.


    Since we were on a straightaway, I began to pull ahead despite myself, feeling the familiar pressure build up in my legs as I pumped my arms, hitting the soles of my shoes on the ground as I flew over the grass, breathing in the sweet mid-morning air. I turned to see how my friends were doing and, although Asher and Miller were slacking as usual, it looked like Ayame had them under control, giving what I imagined to be words of encouragement and leading them on.


    Good, I thought to myself. Then I can go full speed.


    Facing forward, i prepared to rocket forward, taking a deep breath and psyching myself up. I passed the sheds, and upped my speed.


    Then, I heard the chirp.


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    Author''s Note: Pretty uneventful chapter, but next one will be a doozy. Hope you stay tuned!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 7

    The weird thing was, I didn¡¯t just hear the bird chirping, at least not in the normal way. While the soft coos of some sort of bird did reach my ears, that wasn¡¯t all--somehow, I could also tell where the bird was, despite the fact that there were hundreds of trees just down the hill.


    That, in itself, was enough to get me to check out what was going on, and I turned around to get the others in on it. They were all pretty far behind me, Asher and Miller barely jogging above the speed of a walk and Ayame keeping back with them out of what I guessed was pure politeness.


    Well, no use in going all the way back there, I thought, and cupped my hands over my mouth.


    ¡°Hey, guys!¡± I shouted, pointing at the line of trees while I did so. ¡°There¡¯s something down here. I¡¯m going to go see what it is!¡±


    Neither Asher nor Miller responded, but Ayame gave me a quick thumbs up, which was good enough for me. Without another word, I jogged past the worn-out sheds and down the hill, pumping my arms and pulling my shoulders back to keep from tumbling forward. Within a few moments, I¡¯d made it to the tree that I knew the bird was hiding in.


    It took me a long time to find it--so long, actually, that the other three had caught up to me by the time I did--but I eventually caught sight of it, a small, fat gray bird. It was huddled on a low branch, barely visible behind the cluster of large, rounded green leaves that hung so low they almost reached my head. As soon as I knew that I¡¯d found the subject of my curiosity, I pointed it out to my friends.


    ¡°There it is,¡± I announced, raising a finger in the general direction of the gray blob. They had trouble locating it, for a second but, as if on cue, it let out a small coo, revealing its location to all of us. ¡°It sounds quiet, doesn¡¯t it? I¡¯m gonna go see if anything¡¯s wrong with it.¡±


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Asher asked, shielding his eyes from stray lines of sun breaking through the fluffy white clouds overhanging us. ¡°There aren¡¯t a ton of strong branches on this thing. It¡¯s probably not very safe.¡±


    ¡°Shhh.¡± I waved him off playfully. ¡°I¡¯ll be good. You may have forgotten, but I¡¯m a world-renowned tree-climber.¡±


    ¡°You know, if you were the master at everything you say you are, you¡¯d probably be the world champion at being the world champion.¡± Miller was standing back from me with his arms folded across his chest, looking up at the bird suspiciously, as if it was going to drop an unsuspecting present on him at any second. ¡°Are you actually that good at climbing trees?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± I said. ¡°Would I ever lie to you guys about something I¡¯m good at? Anyway, I¡¯m heading up. I¡¯ll be back down in a sec.¡±


    Without waiting to hear their responses, I took a small jump and grabbed hold of the lowest branch, pulling myself up almost effortlessly.To maintain my balance, I was forced to crouch on the branch, centering my weight and keeping steady with a flat palm on the rough surface of the bark but, luckily for me, the bird was close to the bottom and, with a little adjusting, I was able to bring myself to eye level with it.


    From what I could tell--and with my limited knowledge of birds and their various types--it was a dove, although not any kind of dove I¡¯ve ever seen. It sat there, its feathers puffed, giving it the appearance of thunderhead right before a huge storm. Its entire body was that same dark gray, aside from two distinct white lines running from its left eye, all the way down to the tip of its wing.


    As I examined it, it didn¡¯t stir, which was my first indication that something wasn¡¯t right. Reaching out a hesitant finger and ignoring the various warnings I¡¯d received throughout my life about all the diseases birds can carry, I stroked its side.


    There was no response, aside from a single, barely audible chirp. The bird looked at me, it''s tiny black eyes aiming at my chest and, to me, it seemed as if it had already resigned itself to whatever gruesome fate awaited it in that tree. For all it knew, I was the red predator that had finally come to fulfill its fate as foretold by the all-knowing food chain.


    Little did the bird know, I was actually about to do the exact opposite.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s hurt!¡± I called down to my friends. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try to bring it down!¡±


    ¡°Be careful, Cat!¡± Ayame called back, and I glanced down. They were all looking up, waiting for me to come back down with the bird in tow.


    And I wouldn¡¯t disappoint.


    Slowly, I reached out my hand again, cupping my palm and preparing to lift the bird up from under it. I didn¡¯t encounter any problems at first, and was even able to get my hand under the bird, but the success didn¡¯t last long.


    As I began to pull it back towards me, however, things took a turn for the worst. First, the bird pecked me, striking just below my thumb and drawing out a streak of blood, which trickled down my hand and fell towards the ground.


    Then, things started to go really bad, really quick.


    Although the pain in my hand wasn¡¯t super bad or anything, it did come as a shock and, after the bird stabbed me with its beak, I took a quick step back in surprise. Normally, that wouldn¡¯t have been a problem, but when you¡¯re standing on a thin tree branch and working at all times to maintain your balance, it¡¯s definitely not good.


    With the step backwards came a loss of my balance and, as the bird jumped out of my hands and flapped away, unharmed, I went over the edge of the branch, towards the ground.


    While I was vaguely aware of reaching my hands out to stop the fall, most of what wrapped my fingers around the thin branch of the tree came down to instinct. One second, you¡¯re falling out of a tree, about to crash to the ground, the next you¡¯re hanging from the branch you were just standing on top of, feet dangling above the ground.


    It happens, I guess.


    So, the way I figure it, that was bad enough, but whatever forces were in control of my life weren¡¯t about to let me off that easy. Below me, my friends were calling out my name, probably (justifiably) worried that I was going to fall out of the tree or something.


    I looked down at them, just in time to see Ayame step forward.


    ¡°Cat, are you ok--¡± she began, but something drew her attention fully enough to cut her off. She stared at the ground for a moment, her eyes wide in fear, and took a step back so quickly that she herself fell over.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, trying to pull myself up and, after hearing the crack it drew from the thin branch, giving up on the effort.


    Glancing downwards once more, I got my answer.


    At the base of the tree, glowing like an iron rod left to sit in a flame was, of all things, a triangle. The longer I looked at it, the brighter it seemed to burn, the red-hot lines composing its sides burning deeper and deeper into the wooden armor of the tree.


    What is that? I wondered, my arms growing heavier.


    I got my answer a second later when, without warning, the triangle exploded in an upward column of flames that came directly towards me. They were fast, climbing up the side of the tree faster than a bullet train.


    For a second, I let myself be surprised, but no longer than that. When a magic triangle carved into a tree tries to kill you, you¡¯ve kind of gotta just go with the flow.


    Above the incoming roar of flames, I was partially aware of my friends yelling, but I didn¡¯t let that faze me--with a quick swing of the legs, I pushed myself backwards, let go of my trusty branch, and fell out of the tree.


    I¡¯ll tell you now, it¡¯s pretty darn hard to come out of a fall into a backwards roll on uneven ground without hurting yourself pretty badly. Honestly, I¡¯m not even sure how I did it, and I still don¡¯t think I did it right--there was an awful crick in my neck for almost a week afterwards--but, however successful it was, it did the job.


    For a few seconds, I just lay on my back, looking up at the sky--partial cloud coverage, 20% chance of precipitation--until my friends made it over to me, all three of them kneeling at my side to check up on how I was doing.


    Ayame made it first, frantically digging her knees into the bright green grass and half-yelling ¡°Cat, are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯m fine,¡± I said, sitting up and gripping my ankles. I cracked my neck, the snapping sound echoing off of the trees. I gave her a smile and held up my hand. ¡°Just a cut, is all. Nothing major.¡±


    ¡°I swear,¡± Asher said, shaking his head as he and Miller took their place at Ayame¡¯s side, ¡°you¡¯re going to kill yourself one of these days.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± I said. ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard? Teenagers like me are invincible!¡±


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m pretty sure our teachers are always telling us the exact opposite,¡± Miller said. ¡°You know, the whole ¡®teenagers think they¡¯re invincible¡¯ spiel.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± I said, flashing back to the dozens of one-on-one conversations I¡¯d had with my teachers on that very subject over the years before shaking it off. ¡°Either way, I¡¯m okay. I¡¯m more worried about the dove, actually. I hope it¡¯s not in danger.¡±


    ¡®It flew away, so it should be fine,¡± Asher responded. He glanced at the sky, before returning his attention to the tree. The fire had, miraculously, died down, leaving no signs of ever having existed in the first place. ¡°I¡¯m more worried about what in the world those flames were. Fire doesn¡¯t just disappear like that, especially on such a dry day.¡±


    Ayame, who had been looking at me until that point, turned her eyes to the ground. ¡°I-I think that was my fault.¡±


    None of us spoke, at first, as we tried to wrap our minds around what she had just said. Then, I decided to break it, and hopefully knock some sense into her while I was at it.


    ¡°How was that your fault, Ayame?¡± I asked, leaning a little closer. ¡°Last time I checked, you weren¡¯t some kind of witch with control over the ancient element of fire.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± she mumbled. Normally, she would have smiled at that, but her face remained a serious mask. ¡°But think about it. Nothing happened the whole time you were climbing the tree, but the second I took a step forward as you were about to fall, that triangle started glowing. I don¡¯t see how else I¡¯m supposed to take that.¡±


    ¡°There is no way that you¡¯re supposed to ¡®take that,¡¯¡± I said. Maybe I was being a little harsh on her, but there was no way I could have her blaming herself over something none of us had any control over. ¡°It just happened. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Cat¡¯s right,¡± Asher said. Miller nodded his assent. ¡°Weird stuff¡¯s been happening to us for the past couple of weeks, anyway. Whoever¡¯s fault that is, it¡¯s definitely not yours.¡±


    Ayame looked a little relieved at the sudden display of support, and I think she was about to say something--maybe thank me for my unprecedented clarity of thought in stressful situations--when we were interrupted by a crackling sound from the tree. At first, I was worried that the fire had started up again, or worse, that the damage it should have caused had caught up to it, and that it was going to fall over.


    When I stood up and walked over, the reality was much different, and a lot weirder.


    On the ground, just below the scorched symbol of the triangle etched into the base of the tree, was a large, dirty gray hand, breaking through the surface of the ground in typical cheesy zombie-movie fashion. Naturally, I took a step forward to investigate it further, and the hand lunged farther out of its earthen tomb, grasping at the now-exposed roots of the tree (I¡¯ll be honest, I was a little disappointed it didn¡¯t go for the classic ankle-grab).


    ¡°What is this thing?¡± I wondered aloud, attracting the attention of my friends, who came over to check up on it with me. As soon as they saw it, at least two of them let out an audible gasp, and Asher grabbed ahold of my shoulder, pulling me away from the ancient fist.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I guess it was a good thing that he did that, because not even ten seconds later, another five hands broke their way out of the ground, forming a weird sort of conga line of zombie arms. The four of us watched in a combination of horror and interest as, following the arms, six full-out zombie men stood up, complete with ashen-gray skin and rotting flesh, facing us in a line. Their eyes glowed bright yellow, as did the few teeth they possessed among the lot of them, and each one was brandishing a weapon that looked to me like it belonged in a gladiator movie.


    ¡°This is kind of like the opening to a fight in an RPG, don¡¯t you think?¡± I whispered to my friends, who were staring in horror at the six dark figures in front of us.


    ¡°Now is not the time for jokes, Cat,¡± Miller hissed, never taking his eyes off of the zombie soldiers. His knees were low, and it looked to me like he was ready to run at any second.


    He didn¡¯t say anything else, and I turned away. Although they had been so active in breaking free from the earth, none of the soldiers were moving, at the moment, instead standing in a sort of formation, almost as if they were waiting for orders from a nonexistent general. Two out of the six had bows, with dark leather quivers stuck on their bony backs, while the other three carried short, rusty swords. Only one of them had a shield and, although I didn¡¯t say anything for fear of Miller¡¯s ire, they really did look like low-level enemies in a tacky video game.


    ¡°Should we run?¡± Asher asked, not breaking eye contact.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Ayame whispered back, so quietly I could hardly hear her. ¡°They might attack us if we do.¡±


    ¡°What even are these things?¡± I asked the group, although nobody had an answer. We all stared at the group of rotting enemy units for a couple more seconds, and then something that I never would have expected happened.


    The bird flew overhead, dipping its wings in the sky and rocketing towards the group of zombies. For a split second, I thought it had come to rescue us, maybe as a favor for the kindness I¡¯d shown it in the tree.


    Of course, it ended up being nothing like that.


    As the gray bird loomed over the warriors like a storm cloud, gliding over their heads like an omen of doom, it let out a loud, prolonged screech, the shrillness of which made me cover my ears. Then, almost as if it had completed some necessary duty, it flew off one again, disappearing beyond the tree line. Then, the previously stationary soldiers began to move, pushing their ancient, rickety bones into action.


    Funny, the entire time I thought it was me, at the top of the food chain, who had the bird in the palm of my hand. Turns out, it was the other way around.


    The first zombies to attack were the ones with the bows, who raised the dark pieces of wood, which looked a little like a pair of arched eyebrows, and placed an arrow on each of their ancient strings, drawing them back and taking aim.


    For the second time that day, I let my instincts take over.


    No time to think, just go. I looked at my friends, who were in various states of shock, and yelled.


    ¡°Go into the trees!¡± I began running pushing them along with me, and each of us broke into the small wooded area off to the side of the school just as the rotting warriors let their arrows fly. Somehow, one of them flew past my head with the sound of someone flicking a rubber band times one thousand, and landed in the ground next to me, splintering on impact. I kept running, trying to keep track of my friends.


    Asher was in front of me, following closely behind Ayame, while Miller ran at my side, keeping pace with me as I dodged around trees and jumped over rocks. I hazarded a glance behind me, and saw the skeleton soldiers rushing after us, faster than I would have thought possible. One of them raised their bow again, and I quickened my stride, ducking my head as another arrow disappeared through the trees with a twang.


    ¡°Over here!¡± Asher yelled from in front of me. I followed his pointed finger, and saw a cluster of trees in the distance, much thicker than the typical new-growth trees that made up most of the woods. Running as fast as we could, we headed for the grouping, swerving around and keeping them behind our backs as added cover.


    Miller and I had caught up to Asher and Ayame at that point, the four of us more or less running in a diagonal formation, and I was close enough to hear each of them panting at various tempos. We continued on, and I considered turning around again, before thinking better of it.I wiped some sweat from my brow.


    ¡°You..know¡­.¡± Asher panted at my side, pushing a few strands of nearly translucent hair from his face. ¡°I¡¯m really...getting sick of the undead¡­.¡±


    Amen to that, I thought, flashing back to the multiple experiences we¡¯d had with ghosts and zombies in just the past few months. Taking everything into account, it definitely wasn¡¯t natural, and I wondered why we were the ones that ended up having to deal with this sort of thing so often.


    We continued running in near silence, listening to the heavy crashing of our feet against the leaves scattered about the forest floor, and the more hollow sound of the bony feet behind us, tapping on the ground as they continued to creep closer to our running forms.


    ¡°Up here!¡± Ayame shouted suddenly, her arms pumping wildly in the air. She winced, taking in a deep breath, and continued. ¡°The woods end up here. I...think there¡¯s a building.¡±


    Nothing more needed to be said, and we all continued forward with increased vigor, trying to ignore the sound of wood splintering off of trees and slamming into the ground as more arrows flew towards us.


    As soon as we cleared the woods, breaking into an open area of well-trimmed grass, a building that might have been a church standing tall about a hundred feet in front of us, we seemed to move even faster, rushing towards the structure like our lives depended on it--which, all things considered, they probably did.


    We made it to the door quickly enough and, turning around wildly, I saw that the skeleton guys hadn¡¯t made it out of the woods yet. The main doors of the building were probably around the front, and so we instead made our way to two metal doors rising out of the ground in the shape of a wedge, which I assumed led to the basement.


    Asher made it to them first and, locking his fingers around the small handle yanked up. At first, it seemed like they were locked, but on the second attempt the doors yanked open, revealing a set of stairs leading down to another metal door. Rushing down the concrete steps and closing the metal doors above us, we moved through the (thankfully) unlocked door Asher had opened, launching ourselves into a musty basement and slamming the door behind us.


    It was dark, dark enough that I could hardly see my hand in front of my face, which wasn¡¯t good. While darkness where you can still see a little is alright, the pitch black of an underground room, without even a drop of light to remind you that it exists, is what really gets to me.


    My breathing quickened, and I imagined the zombies breaking into the room, preying on me and my friends in the dark. A tightness rose in my chest, and I felt around for the wall, leaning against it for support and closing my eyes, finding slight comfort in darkness that came from myself, rather than an outside source.


    My eyes were closed when someone laid a hand first on the back of my neck, and then on my shoulder, squeezing once as some sort of sign of assurance.


    ¡°Miller, find the light,¡± Asher said, his voice loud in my ears. ¡°We won¡¯t be able to do anything if we can¡¯t see.¡±


    ¡®Yeah, got it,¡± Miller said, and I heard him shuffling around the room carefully, feeling against the wall for some sort of switch. It took time, too much time, but eventually found it, bathing the room in the searing light of a single, uncovered light bulb screwed into the ceiling.


    I looked at Asher, wincing at the harsh light reflecting off of his hair, and gave him a quick nod of thanks, before stepping forward in the basement. It was a mess--boxes containing everything from VHS tapes to bowling balls lined the walls, and no less than six television sets sat, gathering dust, in the back corner. Moving around a broken easel, I stepped up to the door situated by the light switch Miller had found and, turning the handle, pushed.


    ¡°No luck,¡± I said, upon discovering that it wouldn¡¯t budge. For some reason I didn¡¯t understand, they had decided to lock the inside door, while leaving the outside doors unlocked. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to go out the way we came.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that will work,¡± Ayame cautioned, trying the door herself to the same result. ¡°They were gaining on us in the woods. They¡¯re probably out there right now.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying we backed ourselves into a corner?¡± Miller asked, leaning against the wall in a much too nonchalant manner. ¡°That¡¯s really bad.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re going to have to fin--¡± Asher began, but stopped upon hearing the sound of scraping metal that we had heard only moments before.


    The doors above us were being opened.


    ¡°We have to get that door open,¡± Asher said, amending his previous statement.


    ¡°And how are we going to do that?¡± Miller asked, glancing nervously at the metal door we had come in through.


    ¡°Break the doorknob,¡± I said simply. Without another word, I bent down and picked up a hard metal case that looked like it carried top-secret government papers, handing it to Miller. ¡°Here, if you break it off, we should be able to get out through there.¡±


    He stared at the case for a second, and then glanced at the doorknob, as if considering the strategy.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said after a few seconds, as if accepting an assignment at work. ¡°And what are you guys going to do?¡±


    ¡°I think Ayame should help you. You¡¯ll get it done twice as fast with both of you.¡± Ayame nodded, and I searched the basement floor. Tucked below a box, so deeply buried among the horde that it was barely noticeable, was a metal baseball bat. I picked it up, before grabbing a large broom off of the opposite wall and handing it to Asher. ¡°Asher and I will handle the zombies.¡±


    Asher looked at the broom held loosely in his hands like it came from outer space. ¡°You want us to fight deadly skeleton soldiers with a broom and a baseball bat?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I said. Asher looked wary, but he didn¡¯t have a lot of time to think about it, as a second later the metal door opened, and the undead soldiers began filing in, yellowed eyes shining even more menacingly in the dimly lit basement.


    An erratic pounding began behind me, and I figured that Miller and Ayame had started working on the door, but I didn¡¯t check. Tightening my grip on the handle of the bat, I looked at Asher, expecting to have to psyche him up. Surprisingly, however, his eyes matched the intensity of the warriors themselves, shining with spark of fight and eagerness to do something despite the risks, which is a quality I¡¯d rarely seen him express


    For some reason, it made me smile.


    ¡°You ready?¡± I asked, raising my bat in my hands. Although I hardly noticed, the handle had begun to grow hotter, the top of the silver instrument glowing with an unnatural light.


    Asher shifted his broom in his hands, glancing at me out of the corner of his eyes. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    We didn¡¯t have to say anything else and, together, we charged the soldiers.


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    Author''s Note: Here come''s the action! Hope you enjoy, and remember to rate, comment, or review to tell me what you think of the story!

 Volume 2 - Chapter 8

    We held our weapons high as they burned through worlds, forming from nothing, changing to suit our hands. The weight of my bat altered, becoming heavier and, strangely, familiar. My fingers closed around the hilt as if I had done it a thousand times before.


    I looked down just as the light reflected off of the dark blade, nearly blinding me, causing me to look away immediately.


    But I had seen it. And, more importantly, I felt it.


    By the time we reached the soldiers, we no longer held a bat and a broom. Somehow, beyond all reason, we held swords.


    Under normal circumstances, something like that would at least give me pause, but taking into account all that had happened to me and my friends in the past few weeks, and the situation at hand, I hardly gave it a second thought.


    Instead, I swung.


    The blade--did it have spikes?--travelled upwards at an incredible speed, slicing through the air and, more importantly, the pile of bones and rotting flesh that stood in front of me, waving his ancient sword around as he tried to gain a leg up in the fight.


    Unfortunately for him, his equipment was outdated.


    The zombie attempted at a block, but the new sword I had acquired made quick work of it, forcing its way straight through the rusted metal and making its way towards the soldier himself. As soon as my sword made contact with the gray flesh of the undead warrior, he--and I¡¯m not making this up--crumpled into a pile of light gray dust, a thin coating of what used to be my adversary landing on the white tops of my sneakers.


    Huh, that was easy, I thought, looking back and forth between the newly-made dust motes and the impossible black sword I held in my hands. Even the other soldiers seemed surprised, as none of them moved forward to attack for a moment, probably not wanting to take on the dangerous girl waving a spiky sword around.


    Well, not that I can blame them.


    With a new burst of confidence, I took a quick glance at Asher, and found him standing over his own pile of dust with wide eyes only one shade darker than the subject of their gaze. His left hand held loosely onto his newly formed sword, a straight white blade that I found hard to look at. While the dark sword in my hand reflected light with amazing intensity, Asher¡¯s seemed to create light, sending small pulses of pale gold illumination throughout the dark room.


    His mouth was open wide, as if he didn¡¯t understand or believe a single thing that was happening--a feeling I understood completely.


    I would have smiled at him, if it weren¡¯t for the zombie about to chop his head off.


    Without thinking, I ran forward, stretching out my right hand and hoping the tip of the sword would reach the dark soldier in time to stop him from hurting Asher. Closing the gap in an instant, I slammed my sword downwards, meeting the hard cement of the basement floor with a loud clink.


    Realizing my eyes had been closed--probably a dangerous habit to get into when you¡¯re fighting with swords--I flipped them open, only to find that, while I had easily taken care of the soldier¡¯s sword itself, he was still undead and well, standing about five inches above me and looking down.


    Meeting its sulfuric gaze, I threw my sword into the air just as it opened its toothless mouth, letting out a soft grunt as the honed metal travelled up his midsection, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind.


    To my right, Asher fell down with a thud, having jumped back in response to my wild swing to save his life. The room quieted down again, but the thudding continued, and I realized that Miller and Ayame were still hard at work behind us, trying as hard as they could to assure our escape route as they took turns pounding away at the brass doorknob in front of them.


    Seeing them, my chest filled with a rush of heat, a renewed vigor to help us get out of the situation as well. I glanced first at Asher, who had risen to his feet carefully and was now holding his sword, point down, and then turned to face the remaining enemies. Out of the original six, three remained, two of whom held bows and one who carried a sword and a shield.


    ¡°Asher, I¡¯ve got the bows. You deal with the one on the right,¡± I said, trying to put as much authority into my voice as I could muster. To seal the deal, I ran forward without waiting for a response, leaving him without many other options other than to follow.


    The three tall, rotting figures were only about six feet in front of us, making their way slowly, almost cautiously, forward, their thin, yellow feet scraping on the hard floor. It hardly took me any time to reach them, even while lugging around the large sword, and before I knew it I was standing in front of my self-assigned enemies.


    The bows, I realized, had been much more formidable outside, and especially in the open. While a good shot would still do any of us in, I could already tell that the skeleton-men were having trouble maneuvering the long, curved weapons in the low-ceilinged basement, a fact that wasn¡¯t helped by the close range.


    One of them already had an arrow on the string, while the other had a bony hand in the quiver, and I knew that I had to act now, or never. Wrapping all ten of my fingers around the well-worn leather of the hilt, I swung the sword in a wide arc, putting as much force as I could muster into the act. The first soldier went down quickly, dissolving into a cloud of dust and disappearing among the knic-knacs stored in the basement, but the second was able to take a step back, clearing the range of my swipe while placing his final arrow on its ancient string.


    I couldn¡¯t tell where he was aiming, and I figured I didn¡¯t want to know. Rather, I was determined to stop the arrow and its master before I could find out its target and, although it was too late to stop my swing, I pushed forward with all of my might, transitioning hastily from a broad sweep into a focused lunge.


    The switch was sluggish, even I could tell that, but apparently a couple hundred years underground isn¡¯t the best for your reaction time, as the zombie hesitated, just for a moment, which was all I needed. Digging my feet into the ground, I pushed forward, sinking the point of my blade into the soldier¡¯s midsection and sending him off to dust-bunny heaven with his friends.


    Home run, I thought with a smile, before spinning to see if Asher had dealt with his fight.


    The first thing I noticed was how far away the pair was--in the short amount of time it had taken me to deal with my two adversaries, Asher and the shield-toting zombie had somehow drifted nearly to the other side of the room, shuffling around boxes, trinkets and sundries the entire time.


    Part of the reason for the drawn-out nature of the fight, I realized, was Asher himself. While I had practically flown into action with all of my zombie opponents, he seemed to be taking his time, standing in a low stance and holding his sword out defensively in front of him with his left hand while feeling behind him for obstacles with the other. His opponent--obviously a defensive-type enemy, given the shield and noteable endurance it displayed, maybe even a purely defensive class beast--didn¡¯t seem quick on the draw, either, and I knew that if I didn¡¯t step in, there was a good chance we¡¯d be there all day.


    Disregarding the amount of noise I made in doing so, I rushed full-sprint towards the pair, sword held above my head, ready to end this fight once and for all. Asher, facing towards me, noticed first and, though his eyes grew wide and he shook his head in what could have been a warning, he didn¡¯t say anything. Within seconds, I had reached the monster and, without hesitation, I slammed my sword straight down on its head.


    I¡¯m not sure how the zombie knew I was coming (those gnarled ears couldn¡¯t be functional), let alone how it moved quickly enough to block me. Even so, it happened and, before I knew it, the sharp spikes of my blade were making contact with the rough wooden surface of his shield, sending a rush of vibrations up my arms, bouncing through to my very bones.


    Then, as quickly and nonchalantly as if it was swatting a fly, the soldier flicked his forearm, twisting both his shield and my sword and wresting it from my grasp, sending it clattering across the floor and into a dark, currently inaccessible corner of the basement.


    ¡°Oh, sh--¡± I began, but the menacing gaze the zombie shot at me shut me up pretty quickly. Without a hint of hesitation, the warrior raised his sword, ready to return my blow, as I prepared to jump away.


    Then, behind me, I heard a crash, followed by Ayame¡¯s voice.


    ¡°I got it!¡± she shouted. ¡°Come on!¡±


    I didn¡¯t wait for the zombie to try and attack before jumping back, turning and running towards the now-open door that Ayame and Miller were half poking out of. Glancing back, I saw Asher rushing up behind me, his sword pumping in the air, the final soldier close behind. We headed through the door, pounding up the set of dark green stairs and into what seemed to me like an entrance lobby.


    To our right, through a large set of wooden doors and past a few stained-glass windows, was the main area of the church, pews lined up in neat rows, facing the back of the building, and to our left was another set of doors, which I could only assume went outside. Needless to say, we went to the left.


    As soon as we made it outside, the bright light of the sun bombarding my eyes and swarming my vision with dark spots, I turned to Asher.


    ¡°Let me use your sword,¡± I said, holding my hand out. ¡°I think I can take this guy.¡±


    He glanced at the glowing blade in his hand, its light somewhat dimmed in the daylight. He looked a little uneasy. ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°He got me back there, but I won¡¯t let it happen again.¡±


    Asher simply shrugged, looking almost relieved to pass the duty of fighting zombies onto someone else, and held the sword out to me. I took it gratefully, wrapping the fingers of my right hand around the golden hilt.


    The first thing I noticed was that the sword felt so much smaller than the one I¡¯d handled back in the basement. Compared to that dark blade, a heavy, dangerous-looking piece of metal that almost felt more like a sledgehammer than a sword, the simple-looking weapon Asher possessed reminded me of a scalpel, more than anything.


    The second thing I noticed was that the handle was hot, hotter than anything I could remember ever touching before. The heat, beginning nearly the moment I wrapped my hand around the hilt, quickly travelled up my arm, ripping past my shoulder and concentrating itself in the center of my chest. It felt like a fire had set itself within me and, before I knew it, I had dropped the sword, letting it hit the green grass with a soft thud.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Asher asked, picking up the sword and half-heartedly holding it out to me. My hand still buzzed, like it had had a run-in with a miniature electric chair, and I tried to shake it off.


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    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I said, wincing as I continued to wobble my burning hand, hoping the pain would dissipate. ¡°But I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to be able to use that sword. This is gonna be up to you, Asher.¡±


    He looked surprised--I¡¯d say he was downright incredulous--although I noticed his grip on the sword tightened, ever so slightly.


    ¡°Why is that?¡± he asked, but I didn¡¯t give him an answer, as the front doors to the church opened up once again, revealing the undead soldier, his sword raised, shield (now with two small holes in the face, I noticed) hanging at his side.


    ¡°You can do it,¡± I assured him, pushing him forward while simultaneously motioning Miller and Ayame back. ¡°They¡¯re entry-level enemies, at most. Nothing to worry about. Besides, you already beat one, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think accidents count,¡± he mumbled, raising his sword nonetheless. The warrior approached steadily, coming within a few feet, and I patted him quickly on the back.


    ¡°Just take a breath,¡± I said. He obliged, and I wondered briefly how long it had been since he had last done so. Although I trusted that Asher could beat the skeleton, I doubted he believed he could, and I worried that fact would affect the outcome of the fight. Then, I had a brilliant idea. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m gonna help you out.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± he asked, looking at me with an ounce of the classic Asher skepticism I¡¯d come to know so well. Luckily for me, there was no time to explain.


    ¡°Just trust me,¡± I said, and waited. The zombie-soldier, now only two arms-lengths away, continued forward, and I made my move.


    It took just three steps to get to him and, as soon as I did, I took one more to the side, lining myself up right next to the monster. For a moment, he looked at me, vacant yellow eyes blazing, his sword-hand twitching, ready to strike.


    Then, I put my plan into action.


    Pulling my leg back and building up power, I shot my foot forward, the sole of my shoe making direct contact with the knobbly left knee of the ancient fighter. He made no sound, but the loud crack that came from his leg was enough for me, and as soon as he began shifting to the side, throwing his arms out to try and keep his balance, I jumped back, motioning at Asher to move.


    ¡°Now, Asher!¡± I said, and he sprung into action, stepping in towards the soldier and slicing his thin sword downwards across its chest. For a second, it looked like nothing had happened, and then, just like that, it broke down into a small pile of dust, the last remnants of the undead army shifting in the breeze.


    Everything went quiet and, then, Asher dropped his sword, which immediately disappeared in a small explosion of light, before dropping himself, hitting the ground softly and rolling onto his back, his eyes aimed towards the milky-blue sky.


    Laughing, I joined him.


    ¡°That was great!¡± I said, jabbing him in the side with my elbow, the grass tickling my arm. ¡°Perfect form, if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure,¡± he muttered, his voice even quieter than usual. I wondered if the fight was getting to him--that stuff¡¯s probably not really up his alley, and having to suddenly face off against and re-kill multiple undead soldiers had to have been a pretty big shock.


    Just as I planned to ask him, however, Ayame and Miller made it to us, kneeling down quickly and leaning over to face us, partially blocking out the sky.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Ayame asked, her gaze flicking between me and Asher.


    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± I said happily, looking at Asher, who nodded in agreement.


    ¡°Fine?¡± Miller asked. He pulled his head back out of my vision, and it sounded to me like he was laying down as well. ¡°That¡¯s good, I guess, but I¡¯m not sure if I believe you. That was pretty messed up.¡±


    Ayame nodded and, realizing she was the only one not laying down, followed our lead, returning my view to the expanding sky.


    ¡°What do you think those things were?¡± she asked, halting for a moment on ¡®things.¡¯


    ¡°No idea,¡± Asher said, after a moment of silence. ¡°Some kind of zombie fighter, I guess. It doesn¡¯t really make sense to me, but I can¡¯t think of what else they¡¯d be.¡±


    ¡°It kind of makes sense, then,¡± Miller said, ¡°at least in the way that nothing has made sense in the past month or so. At least it¡¯s keeping with the trend.¡±


    That got a small chuckle, which quickly descended back into silence. I wanted to say something, to get everybody back in a good mood but, for once, nothing came to mind.


    Eventually, Asher broke the silence.


    ¡°One more thing,¡± he said. ¡°What were those swords?¡±


    No one seemed to have an answer and, after another moment, he continued.


    ¡°I have no idea exactly how it happened, ¡° he said, his voice low, ¡°but those things just appeared, right when Cat and I needed them. Even wrong all of the weird stuff that¡¯s been going on, I find that odd.¡±


    Again, silence. It stretched on for some time, each of us mulling the question over, trying to come to an impossible answer by sheer force of will, before I decided that I¡¯d had enough.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. But you know what else doesn¡¯t? The way we¡¯re all just lying here, staring at the sky and trying to figure out the impossible, while school is still going on.¡±


    That got the desired effect, and Asher and Ayame jumped up almost immediately, brushing grass off of their clothes and looking towards the school grounds.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Ayame said. ¡°Do you think anyone noticed?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Asher replied, a bit of color finding its way back into his voice. ¡°We¡¯d better get back, though, before someone does. Come on, guys.¡±


    Without looking back, the two of them rushed back, heading towards the line of trees we had fled from just a little earlier. Slowly, Miller and I did the same, standing up and following behind them at a more reasonable pace.


    ¡°You know,¡± Miller said, after a while, ¡°those swords¡­.that couldn¡¯t have been a one time thing, right?¡±


    I looked back, and his eyes caught mine, an intense but otherwise indiscernible thought floating just behind his irises.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°But who knows? I¡¯m sure Asher and I will talk about it, sooner or later. Maybe we can figure it out, but right now, we¡¯ve got to get back to school, before they send out a search party.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right,¡± Miller said, and left it at that.


    We headed through the woods and, although I brushed it off with Miller, the swords burned in my mind, swirling in my thoughts and grabbing for my attention. I wasn¡¯t sure what it was, but there was just something about them, the way they appeared, the way they felt, that I knew I had encountered before, somewhere, somehow. What Miller had said was probably true--there had to be a way for me and Asher to get those swords again, but what would happen when we did?


    Truthfully, I had no idea, but the question persisted, and I knew it would linger in my mind for a long time.


    Eventually, however, we caught up to Asher and Ayame, and I pushed it away, my thoughts switching back to school, to fitness day, to having fun with my friends.


    Making our way back to the track, we picked up our interrupted jog and, while me and my friends travelled around the school grounds, slipping slowly back into normal conversation and letting the fight fall behind us, I tried to ignore the tingling in my hand.


    * * *


    The dark sky hung overhead like a blanket covering the earth, both the moon and the stars covered by a layer of thick, suffocating clouds intent on snuffing out all the light of the surrounding, expanding universe. In the night, under a small tree, Barachiel sat, letting the light gray dust trickle between his fingertips and gather in the palm of his opposite hand, before lifting the receiving hand and reversing the process.


    It took time but, eventually, the crane appeared, ducking into the shadow of the tall shed with a flap of its large wings and emerging as a familiar demon, just as he knew he would.


    ¡°So,¡± Naberius said, waltzing up to Barachiel with his hands in his pockets and a small grin on his face. ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡±


    ¡°It went well,¡± Barachiel responded, forcibly letting go of his previous inhibitions concerning fraternizing with the enemy. In the course of the past week, he had begun to accept such interactions as a necessity in his plans. ¡°Exceptionally well, rather. The warriors were awakened and, as I expected, defeated. There is no longer any doubt in my mind--they are the ones.¡±


    ¡°What makes you so sure?¡± the demon asked, scratching his cheek and pretending that he didn¡¯t already know the answer.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you felt it,¡± Barachiel said, looking at the demon for the first time. ¡°Just for a moment, I felt a spark. They must have tapped into a portion of their capabilities.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure I felt it?¡± Naberius repeated, glancing up at the sky with dark eyes. ¡®You must remember, Barachiel, that¡¯s assuming I was listening in the first place.¡±


    ¡°Were you not?¡±


    Silence, and then, quietly than he had spoken in quite some time, Naberius let his voice travel into the night. ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    His use of ¡°we¡± did not escape the angel but, with no small amount of grace, he declined to comment. He stood, and took a single step towards the demon.


    ¡°They will not come back alone for some time, if at all,¡± he stated. ¡°They will need assistance.¡±


    ¡°I want to ask you, one more time,¡± Naberius said, as if he was waiting for the perfect opportunity, ¡°are you sure about all of this?¡±


    Barachiel narrowed his eyes. ¡°Of course I am sure. Besides, I never once asked for your help in the matter, and whether or not you believe this to be a good idea means nothing to me.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask, no, but you¡¯ll need it,¡± Naberius said, ignoring the jab. ¡°Though it is nowhere near agreeable, I¡¯ll aid you in achieving your result. I can only guess what you want him here for but, as for me, well...let¡¯s just say I need her back.¡±


    For the remainder of their encounter, they exchanged no more words, each lost in separate worlds, both past and future, an angel and a demon standing together under a dark sky, preparing to embark towards a new world.


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    Author''s Note: Here it is, the end of Volume 2! I hope you all enjoy, and i''d appreciate it if you could rate, comment, or review to let me know what you think of how this story is going! Thanks for reading!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 1

    He stepped out of the mist and into a large courtyard where, surrounded by an impenetrable fortress of thick-trunked olive trees, the angels congregated, pausing in their flux between the world of man and the world of the divine to rest, to find, to learn.


    It felt like years since Sariel had last set foot in Paradise and, recalling how quickly the passage of time flowed in the world of mortal men, he realized it probably had been.


    As he stepped forward, according to custom, the angel shed his earthly form, revealing wings long-kept hidden. In this world they shone, a soft light as thin as mist spreading out above his shoulders in a nebulous form, weighed down only by the consuming darkness present at their own edges.


    Moving along the rough surface of the dirt path leading forward, Sariel prepared to consult with the Lord, in hopes of gleaning information on the future proceedings of him and his companions. Though the courtyard was particularly full of other heavenly beings, he found his path unobstructed, although that was hardly a surprise.


    Ignoring the stray glances and whispers of his divine companions, their wings shining, nearly blinding him with their purity as they trained their eyes on his own dark specimens, the unmistakable mark of an angel of death.


    They tried but, even for angels, it was hard for them to hide their unease.


    In time, though, Sariel passed from their view, fading from their memory until the next time he was forced to taint their gathering place with the aura of humanity once again. He was glad for it¨Cafter so long detached from the isolated community of angels in Heaven, he found it hard to remain in their company for any extended period of time.


    Unfortunately, after traversing the winding path towards his rarely-visited respite, he discovered that he was still not truly alone. Ahead of him, leaning against the gently-curving trunk of a well-kept tree, its nameless fruits shining like precious gems, was an angel. He wore his hair, the color of melted gold, long, and it flowed with his pure-white robe in the gentle breeze.


    Even from one hundred feet away, his smirk was unmistakable.


    ¡°Greetings, Sariel,¡± he said, bowing his head slightly. Sariel, though he would have liked to keep moving, stopped, knowing full well that the price of not acknowledging him was not one he was willing to pay. ¡°It¡¯s rare to see you here. Are you heading to speak with our Father?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Sariel replied curtly, and offered no further explanation.


    The golden angel¡¯s smile widened.


    ¡°I will let you go in a moment,¡± he said, the glowing tone of his voice doing much to indicate his perceived charity at the future act. ¡°Although, He has much to talk to you about. Perhaps I will help to lighten the load for Him? Some of the news He is prepared to deliver has spread already, and I am fully willing to let you in on some of the knowledge.¡±


    The fact that others knew of the reason for his summons struck the angel as odd, but he pushed it from his mind¨Che would know soon enough, either way. Deciding not to waste another moment engaging in the tug-of-war his companion so thinly-veiled as simple pleasantries, he moved forward, brushing past the angel in front of him.


    ¡°Save your breath, Barchiel,¡± he said. ¡°I will speak with Him myself.¡±


    Sariel had been fully prepared to leave it at that but, in typical fashion, Barachiel was not. As Sariel advanced briskly on the path, the angel behind him called forward, his self-righteous voice drowning out the floating birdsong, the swaying of leaves in the gentle breeze, even Sariel¡¯s own heartbeat.


    Commanding silence from all else, Sariel heard nothing but the words.


    ¡°Remiel has turned.¡±


    Silence reigned for a moment, an infinity, before all of the sounds rushed back in at once, beginning with the rustling breeze and cascading onwards, the entirety of his environment collapsing inwards on itself. All that was silent, it seemed, were his breaths, his footsteps, both halted.


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    Slowly, the dark figure turned to face the golden-haired angel, his eyes narrowed.


    ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°Remiel turned, a small number of days ago,¡± Barachiel repeated, trying, unsuccessfully, to mask the satisfied look on his face in response to delivering the news. ¡°She has sided with them.¡±


    For some time, Sariel stared at the ground, following the progress of a small beetle crawling across the path which, before making its way fully across, took flight, buzzing past his ear and rising into the leaves of a nearby tree. With some effort, he met Barachiel¡¯s eyes once again.


    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    The messenger¡¯s face didn¡¯t change. ¡°You know I¡¯m not.¡±


    Then, suddenly, Sariel¡¯s body began to move, his feet pounding the ground softly as he began to stagger slightly forward, toward the line of trees in the distance.


    Of course, Barachiel wasn¡¯t finished.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all,¡± he said, his voice reverberating in Sariel¡¯s skull. ¡°I still haven¡¯t told you how you¡¯re involved.¡±


    Sariel didn¡¯t want to hear it, but he found, amazingly, that he had rooted himself to the spot, his body no longer moving in accordance with his thoughts. Barachiel continued.


    ¡°Out of us all, you knew her the best,¡± he said. His mouth had sunk into a straight line, but it did nothing to hide the interest blazing in his blue eyes. ¡°That kind of relationship comes with a special privilege, as you know. Now that she has turned, it is up to you to deal with her.¡±


    The angel¡¯s breathing, silent up until then, rang in his ears, each breath in seeming to sear his lungs, each out to boil the air around him. He feared what the angel was about to say. He knew, but he wished he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°It is a great honor, Sariel, and I hope you will treat it accordingly,¡± Barachiel said, no longer trying to hide the smile spread across his face. ¡°You are lucky, in a way. The rest of us are only permitted to watch, to halt her effects and no more. But you. You get to go a step further.¡±


    His smile might be presumed righteous, by any other passing angel, but to Sariel, in that moment, it was nothing other than sinister.


    ¡°You don¡¯t simply get to watch her,¡± he said. ¡°You get to kill her.¡±


    He did not wait to see Sariel¡¯s response, walking away immediately upon completing his final declaration of his rival¡¯s good luck.


    Sariel didn¡¯t notice. He simply stood, those final words ringing in his ears, the ghost of something now lost burning in his mind. He bit his lip, and took a step forward.


    Minutes, hours, days later, he found himself in the forest, glancing at the light as it filtered through the canopy, bouncing off of leaves and casting his face in shadow. His palm lay on the rough bark of an ancient oak, his eyes cast to the ground, his thoughts still reeling from the revelation he had never been prepared to receive.


    He stared at the ground, and he thought.


    Finally, the light faded, making way for an unforgiving darkness that he had scarcely witnessed in the forest before. Whether it was from physical fatigue or simple mental exhaustion, he let go of his restraint, giving into the weight of his thoughts, his past.


    After so long waiting, he sank to his knees and, among the trees, separate from all but his creator, he asked the one question that he could not imagine the answer to.


    ¡°Why?¡±


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    Author''s Note: Onto a new volume! If you could leave a rate, comment, or review, I''d really appreciate it!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 2

    My first thought when I woke up, alarm beeping softly in the periphery of my consciousness, was that my shoulders and arms had decided to rebel against the rest of my body, ready to detach at any moment. As I regained the presence of mind that came with wakefulness, of course, I realized that they were just sore, but by that point, I would have preferred the former.


    The struggle to get myself out of bed was no joke, but somehow, I managed, and went through my normal morning routine in a general haze brought on both by my lack of sleep and the fact that I had just woken up. Before I knew it, I had gotten myself ready for school, and bought myself about thirty minutes before I had to head out of the door and begin the day.


    Without thinking about it, I drew back my curtains and glanced at my front yard. Of course, no one was there¨CCat and Miller had already let me know that they wouldn¡¯t be able to walk to school that day, as they had work to do with their club and, while it struck me odd that the ultimate frisbee club had any activities to take care of at seven in the morning, I decided not to question it.


    Without much else to do, I sat down at my desk, taking a glance at the large, ancient-looking brown book positioned on its center titled ¡°Ghosts and Spectres: An Examination of the Typical Behaviours of the Undead.¡± Placing the tips of my fingers gently on its edge, I flipped to the one and only bookmarked section, a single page dedicated to ¡°Banshees and Barrow-women,¡± and began to skim it for information.


    In the weeks since our last brush with the undead, after hours of searching through books borrowed from my old history teacher and night after night spent hunched over the pages, that single page was the only piece of definitive information on what my friends and I had seen, and I had scanned over it at least a dozen times. Unfortunately, accurate information on banshees was scarce and, while I now knew that the screaming which brought Cat, Miller, and me to my knees was supposed to be a sign of death, I was still almost entirely in the dark.


    But, even though I had next to nothing to go on and no idea how to move forward, I was determined to figure out what it was that had forced its way into the lives of me and my friends. Then, maybe, I could figure out how to stop it from happening in the future.


    Hopefully, that day would come soon but, knowing that my breakthrough wasn¡¯t going to come that morning before school, I shoved the oversized textbook into my bag and headed downstairs to eat.


    As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard a few muted clinks and clangs travelling through the halls and, as the smell of scrambled eggs hit my nose, realized they were coming from the kitchen.


    Sure enough, when I turned the corner and made my way through the wide doorway, I was hit with a thin blast of steam, and saw my dad standing in front of the stove, a pot of boiling water in front of him as he flipped a large omelet out of his frying pan and onto a blue plate set on the counter, where two others already sat, ready to be eaten. I walked to his side.


    ¡°There¡¯s omelets, if you want some,¡± he said, pointing behind his shoulder and wiping some sweat off of his brow with his sleeve. Without waiting for my response, he checked to make sure the water to his left was actually boiling, before dropping a few uncracked eggs into the pot¨Capparently he was on an egg kick, for some reason.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, pulling a small plate from behind the faded door of the cupboard and picking one up. ¡°What kind?¡±


    ¡°Just cheese,¡± he said, cracking a small egg and proceeding to prepare it, this time over-easy. I knew he liked eggs but, even for him, this was getting a little out of control. ¡°I didn¡¯t feel like making anything fancy.¡±


    I nodded, sprinkling some pepper onto the top of my omelet and cutting it up with the side of my fork. ¡°Where¡¯s mom?¡±


    ¡°Still asleep. She had a long night.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He didn¡¯t need to say anymore¨Cmy mom spends a lot of time grading papers and getting lessons ready, and her sleep schedule often takes a hit, because of it. I took a bite of my eggs, burning the roof of my mouth a little. ¡°These are good.¡±


    ¡°Mmhm,¡± my dad said as he sat down across from me, sounding as sure of his creation as a master egg chef which, just maybe, he actually qualified as. He pushed some strands of his dark hair, now speckled evenly with spots of gray, to the side, and took a bite. ¡°Wow, you¡¯re right. These are top quality.¡±


    We ate in silence for some time afterwards, my dad finishing off his plate and licking his fingers in half the time it took me to make my way through a single omelet. As I finished it up, he laid a glass of milk in front of me, and I gulped it down.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, placing my dishes in the sink and rinsing them off. I checked the time on the microwave, and walked towards my bag. ¡°I guess I¡¯m going to head out, then.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± he responded. ¡°Have a good day. Are you planning on doing anything tonight?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± I shrugged as I reached the door. ¡°I¡¯ll call and tell mom if I¡¯m going to get home late.¡±


    ¡°Okay, see you later.¡±


    With that, I walked outside, letting the door swing shut behind me. The sky was almost entirely overcast, with only one or two streaks of pale blue poking out from above the thick, light gray clouds that dominated it. An early morning breeze blew across my yard, rustling the sleeves of my shirt and raising goosebumps on my arms, and I began to walk, trying to recapture some of the warmth the air had robbed from me.


    Without anyone else to walk with, I made my way to the school quickly, weaving through the streets if my neighborhood with ease and arriving nearly ten minutes before homeroom was scheduled to start. Walking through the sparsely-populated halls, I entered my classroom to find that, for once, none of my friends were there.


    There wasn¡¯t much for me to do, other than read, but, for the time being, I was a little overloaded with that particular pastime. Instead, I just sat down, and waited for the day to begin.


    Cat, Miller, and Ayame entered the class at the same time, a few minutes later, and I noticed them almost immediately, probably because I had rested my head in the palm of my hand and trained my eyes on the clock, directly above the door. Crossing the front of the classroom, they took their seats and greeted me.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, rearranging myself in my seat to face them. ¡°Where were you guys?¡±


    ¡°Our meeting ran late,¡± Miller explained, setting his bag down. ¡°Cat and I ran into Ayame on the way up here.¡±


    I nodded, and our group fell silent for a few moments. Then, as expected, Cat broke it, slamming her fist down on the table.


    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot! Asher, I have something amazing to tell you.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked, silently doubting the actual amazingness of whatever story she was about to tell me.


    She nodded quickly, and twirled in her seat, pointing her knees at me.


    ¡°Okay, you¡¯re not going to believe this, but last night I was sitting in bed, about to go to sleep, when I started thinking about the zombie thing,¡± she said, nearly running out of breath in the process. I nodded along¨Cthinking about our experience with the undead warriors had become a common occurrence in our group, and I¡¯d pretty much come to expect it. Cat continued. ¡°Then, I remembered the swords, and decided to try to make it appear again. I swear, Asher, my hand started tingling!¡±


    Her story made me pause for a moment¨Cever since she and I had somehow summoned swords to fight the undead, we¡¯d attempted many times, unsuccessfully, to get them back. If she had gotten close to doing so, then I definitely wanted to hear about it.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure it wasn¡¯t just your hand falling asleep?¡± I asked, which got a little laugh out of Ayame and Miller. Cat shook her head immediately.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± she said, and held up her hand, pointing at the center of her palm. ¡°Right there, it started tingling, and the more I focused on the sword the farther it spread out. Then, just before it reached my fingertips, it stopped.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± It did sound a little odd and, even though she¡¯s known to exaggerate, I couldn¡¯t imagine Cat would make up anything when it came to the swords. Who knows, maybe she had come close to bringing it back? ¡°Well, maybe¨C¡±


    I tried to tell her that she could try again after class, but never got to, as our teacher began taking roll at that moment, forcing the class into silence. Cat looked at me, expecting me to continue, but I simply shrugged.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you after class,¡± I said, and we started the day.


    As it turned out, the school day was one of the busiest we¡¯d had in awhile, and I hardly got a chance to look at my friends amidst the tests and notes, let alone talk to them. Before I knew it, the day was already over, the shrill sound of the bell reverberating through the halls, bouncing over our heads.


    Although I planned to get back into our earlier conversation, I was never given the chance¨Cas soon as the bell began to ring, Cat and Miller packed their stuff up and stood, stepping out from behind their desks.


    ¡°Alright, guys, we¡¯ll see you later,¡± she said, motioning to Miller to follow her. ¡°We¡¯ve got a super important match coming up, and the captain will kill us if we don¡¯t make it to practice on time.¡±


    And, with a quick wave, the two of them disappeared through the door.


    Well, the talk about the swords could wait, I guess.


    With Cat and Miller gone, I figured there was pretty much no use in waiting around, and stood to go myself, taking my book out of my bag. Even though I had planned on taking a break from all of the ghost stuff and obscure 19th century novels on the subject, it was easier said than done, as my thoughts continually drifted back to our encounters with them.


    Ayame was still sitting down, and I took a step towards her desk, setting the edge of my book on the flat surface.


    ¡°Are you ready to go?¡± I asked, assuming, since Miller and Cat were gone, that she and I would head out together. ¡°You don¡¯t have anything to do here today, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t have any meetings today. Just give me one second,¡± she said, and began arranging her notes, sticking them into various, color-coded sections of her binder. Once she had finished, she stuck it in her bag, and stood up. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m good.¡±


    Together, we headed out of the classroom, making our way through the halls slowly, mostly to avoid the steady onslaught of students fleeing the premises.


    ¡°There sure were a lot of notes today,¡± Ayame commented as we stood in front of her locker, where she was storing her textbooks. ¡°My hand feels like it¡¯s about to fall off.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know what their deal was today,¡± I responded. ¡°I planned on talking to Cat more about the swords, but they didn¡¯t even give us the chance.¡±


    Ayame paused for a moment, thinking, before bending down to place another textbook at the bottom of her locker. When she spoke, her voice rang slightly like a sheet of metal.


    ¡°Do you think she was actually close to doing it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, leaning against the cold metal of the adjacent locker. ¡°I mean, right now we don¡¯t even know if we can actually do it again, or if those swords were just a one time deal. I guess there¡¯s a chance she was getting close, but I can¡¯t really say.¡±


    ¡°Mm,¡± Ayame mumbled, and slammed her locker shut. ¡°Well, if anyone can do it, it¡¯s you two. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll figure this all out, eventually, but until then don¡¯t stress out about it too much.¡±


    Although it was quick, almost unnoticeable, I caught her eyes shift to the book in my hands, before returning to my face. Rearranging my grip on the worn leather cover, I turned, and we continued to make our way out of the building.


    After a while, I felt a dull tap through the book, travelling quickly up my arm, and glanced over to find Ayame rapping her fingers on the side. She arched her eyebrows.


    ¡°Figure anything else out about the ghosts?¡±


    ¡°Nope, not since I found the page on Banshees,¡± I responded with a shake of my head. ¡°This book is good, don¡¯t get me wrong, but it¡¯s not very easy to find information on a ghost when the only real description you have is ¡®It tried to kill me and my friends.¡¯ If I¡¯m going to have any luck, I think I need to look at some more specific sources.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad,¡± she said, looking at her feet. For a few moments, she said nothing, simply following the series of colored tiles that made up the floor with her eyes, before she seemed to collect her thoughts enough to speak again. ¡°So, you still need to research some more?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve still got a lot to learn and figure out, if I want to get anywhere close to understanding what¡¯s going on with all of these things.¡±


    ¡®Well,¡± Ayame said, ¡°I could help you out. I¡¯ve been kind of interested in learning more about all of this stuff, too.¡±


    She looked at me, questioning, as if wondering what I would say next. Of course, my answer was obvious.


    ¡°That would be great,¡± I said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were interested in this stuff.¡±


    ¡°Kind of hard not to be, when there¡¯s a chance you¡¯ll be attacked by ghosts at any given moment,¡± she replied, which made me laugh. I guess it makes sense that someone who has experienced the supernatural firsthand would want to learn more about it.


    ¡°Alright, then, when do you want to start?¡± I asked. Then, remembering the book I held in my hands, I held the cover up for Ayame to see. ¡°I could let you borrow this during the school day, if you want.¡±


    Ayame looked up, as if she were considering the question, before shaking her head.


    ¡°Actually, I have a better idea. How about we go to the library and see what we can find there?¡±


    For a second, I thought about it, although it didn¡¯t take much for me to make my decision¨Cit had been some time since I¡¯d last been to a library outside of the one at the school, and it would definitely be helpful in learning more about all of the stuff that¡¯d been happening to us. With that in mind, my answer was obvious.


    ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good idea,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe we can find more information there. Are they open today?¡±


    ¡®I think so, yeah,¡± she responded, glancing upwards. ¡°You¡¯re fine with going today?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything else going on,¡± I shrugged. ¡°And besides, I want to get more information on this as soon as possible.¡±


    She smiled, and rearranged her bag on her shoulder. ¡°Alright, then. Should I meet you at your house tonight?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I said. It seemed to me that some of the people in the hall were glancing at us, for some reason, but I ignored them. ¡°We can leave at around six. That should give us enough time to find all that we need.¡±


    Ayame nodded, and we didn¡¯t say anything more as we exited the school building, walking slowly through the gates and down the empty sidewalk. After saying goodbye to her and walking on my normal route home, I smiled, hoping that, finally, we would get some answers.

 Volume 3 - Chapter 3

    After getting home from school, I headed to my room immediately, throwing my bag on the rumpled sheets of my bed and searching for something to do to occupy my time until I headed to the library with Ayame. After cycling through reading, doing my homework, studying for class, watching TV, and playing video games¨Call of which, for some reason, couldn¡¯t seem to hold my attention for any more than twenty minutes¨CI ended up downstairs in my kitchen, glancing occasionally at the ticking clock while sipping some water.


    As I sat at the wooden table in the center of the room, tapping out a simple beat on the surface, I heard a soft ¡°clink¡± behind me, and turned to see my mother standing at the sink, washing off a plate she must have just been using. I returned to my resting position, and resumed my erratically-tempoed rhythm.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± my mom asked, her voice ringing above the dull thuds my fingers continued to produce. Although she had started with a single dish, I guess she had decided to take care of the remaining dishes in the sink. While she scrubbed away the remnants of the omelet I¡¯d had that morning, she looked at me expectantly.


    ¡°Nothing, really,¡± I responded, giving up on my song and laying my palm flat on the surface of the table. ¡°I¡¯m going to go to the library with a friend soon, so I¡¯m just waiting for them to show up.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°What are you going to the library for, a project for school?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I responded, figuring that it would be much easier to go along with that than to explain the real subject of our research. ¡°We¡¯ve got a science project coming up, and we have to get some information?¡±


    ¡°Alright, make sure you eat before you go,¡± she said, making her way to the doorway, most likely to get back to work. Before she made her full exit, however, she turned around, her eyebrows raised slightly. ¡°Oh, by the way, who are you working on the project with?¡±


    ¡°Ayame.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good, she¡¯s a smart girl.¡± My mom nodded, probably remembering the fact that Ayame sat at the top of my class, beating me and a couple others out by an astounding margin. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got a conference with a student coming up, so I¡¯ll see you later. Don¡¯t stay out too late.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, wondering if she actually expected me to pull a late night at the public library on a weekday. ¡°Have fun.¡±


    With a chortle and an already distant ¡°Sure thing¡± she was gone, leaving me alone in the kitchen once again. I took another glance at the clock¨Cit read 5:40¨Cand decided that I¡¯d done enough sitting around, instead heading up to my room with the intention of making sure all of my electronics had been shut off.


    As it turns out, they had been¨Cmy trip to turn things off had actually had the opposite effect, as I ended up turning on the lights¨Cand ultimately I ended up sitting on my bed, waiting again.


    Thankfully, it didn¡¯t take long for the knock on the door to come¨Chad I ended up just sitting around any longer I probably would have fallen asleep¨Cand, after grabbing my wallet and phone, I headed down the stairs, making it to the front door in just a few seconds. Swinging it inwards, I was greeted by Ayame, her hand quickly withdrawing from its position in the air and returning to her side.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she said, with a small wave. As opposed to her school uniform, she now wore a plain black t-shirt and jeans. ¡°Are you ready to go?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, stepping forward and closing the door behind me.


    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m a little early,¡± Ayame said as we began walking forward, taking a left after clearing my front yard. ¡°I always overestimate how long it takes me to get to your house.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± I assured her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t really doing anything today, so I¡¯m fine with heading out before six.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good,¡± she said. A small breeze blew its way across our faces and, after quickly pushing her dark bangs out from in front of her eyes, she glanced at me. ¡°So, where do you think we should start with the research?¡±


    I put a hand in my pocket, closing my fingers around the mechanical pencil inside and realizing that I¡¯d forgotten to bring my notebook, before giving her a slight shrug.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see when we get there, I guess,¡± I said. ¡°I thought about it for a while, but I can¡¯t really think of a good way to start. Do libraries have ¡®real-world ghost¡¯ sections?¡±


    The question was at least half a joke, and I¡¯m sure Ayame knew that, but she decided to answer, anyway.


    ¡°Probably not,¡± she laughed, ¡°but who knows? Maybe they decided to put one in since the last time either of us were at the library.¡±


    ¡°It has been a few years, for me, at least. If we¡¯re lucky, the library has decided to stock up on informational books on dealing with ghost attacks in your teens since then.¡±


    ¡°We can only hope,¡± Ayame said with a smile. Of course, we both knew that the chances of finding anything to help us out that easily were slim, but it was nice to imagine it, at least.


    For a while, we walked in silence, navigating the streets of our neighborhood with ease¨Ceven though it had been some time since I¡¯d last visited it, I remembered the location of the library without any problems, mostly because it was on the way to Cat¡¯s house.


    Then, as I was stepping forward to cross the street, Ayame suddenly threw her arm out, forming a bar across my chest that prevented me from moving forward another inch. The force of walking into her outstretched arm knocked the breath clear out of my lungs and, as I attempted to regain the lost air, I turned quickly in her direction.


    ¡°W..what¡¯s wrong?¡± I sputtered, glancing at the light to make sure we were free to cross, which we were.


    Ayame didn¡¯t respond at first, focusing on her bag as she dug her hand through its contents, searching for something. Eventually, and with a triumphant look in her eyes, she pulled her phone from the bag, and turned it on.


    Then, she spoke.


    ¡°I completely forgot!¡± she said, her volume at least a few levels above normal. ¡®When I got home from school today, I did a little research of my own, just to get an idea of what we¡¯d be looking for at the library, and I found something that I wanted to show you.¡±


    Turning her phone around in her hands, she transferred it into mine, and I glanced at the bright screen, where Ayame had pulled up a sizeable amount of text. I pulled it a little closer to my face, and began to read.


    ¡°How do you pronounce this word?¡± I asked, almost immediately after beginning. ¡°Aptrgangr? What language is that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly how you pronounce it,¡± Ayame admitted, before moving closer to me and pointing over my shoulder at the screen, ¡°but if you keep reading they tell you that they¡¯re called ¡®draugr,¡¯ most of the time. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s Norse.¡±


    ¡°Oh, alright.¡±


    With that, I continued reading, scanning my eyes over the screen as Ayame read the article again beside me. Although she hadn¡¯t told me the specific reason why this article had popped up while she was researching, I figured it out quickly enough¨Cfrom what I could tell, draugar were reanimated corpses that would attack people for no reason.


    After a few minutes, I finished reading the page, and handed the phone back to Ayame.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°So?¡± she asked expectantly, as she took the phone from my hands. I nodded.


    ¡°They sound really close to what we ran into,¡± I said. ¡°At the very least, it¡¯s the best guess we¡¯ve had so far, and a good place to start off on. How did you find them.¡±


    Ayame tilted her head. ¡°I just searched around for a while. At first I was looking for different types of undead creatures from around the world, and found a page all about ancient vampires and vampire stories. Since draugr supposedly have some similarities with old vampire stories, there was a link to information on them on that page.¡±


    In front of us, the light signalling for us to walk began flashing once again, and we made our way across the street, while I thought about the new information Ayame had discovered. Although I had spent weeks researching, looking for hints as to what we had encountered the day of the athletic event at school with no luck, it had only taken her one night to hit upon the best idea of what they might have been we¡¯d had yet. Quietly, I looked at her in amazement.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯m glad you thought of coming here,¡± I said, catching sight of the library in the distance. Ayame turned to face me, looking a little surprised, for some reason. ¡°I think that, with both of us, we might actually be able to get closer to some answers.¡±


    She exhaled, her shoulders rolling slightly with the movement, and she nodded. ¡°I think so, too.¡±


    Without another word, we took the few remaining steps up to the front doors of the library, and headed inside. After recovering from the unexpected blast of cool air rushing at us from the interior of the building, I looked around, wondering where to start searching.


    The library itself was separated into two floors, the walls of which were lined with shelves of books, the spines varying in color primarily from red to brown, with spattered selections of brighter colors interspersed between. The center of the main floor was taken up mostly by rows of computers, as well as bins of used books, on sale both individually and in bulk, in front of which stood the only other visible occupant of the building, an elderly woman sifting through the yellowed pages of a decades-old romance novel.


    ¡°Okay, where do you think we should start?¡± I asked, scanning the room without much of an idea of which sections held the type of books we were looking for.


    ¡°I went on the library¡¯s website before we came,¡± Ayame responded. ¡°The two main sections that would have anything to do with what we¡¯re looking for are the supernatural/mystery section, and the mythology section. It would probably be easiest to split up for a little bit and see what we can find there.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that sounds like a good plan,¡± I said, thanking the universe for Ayame¡¯s preparedness. ¡°Where do you want to look?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to look at the mythology section, as long as you don¡¯t have a preference,¡± she said, almost immediately. ¡°Any information on draugar should be there, and I want to find more out about them.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go check out the supernatural stuff, then,¡± I said with a nod, before moving off on my own to peruse the selection. Only after Ayame ascended the set of metal stairs to the right, heading to the mythology section, did I realize that I had never asked where the supernatural section was, which gave me a moment of panic where I thought I would have to ask someone.


    Luckily for me, I ended up stumbling into the supernatural/mystery section only a moment later on accident, which helped to settle my nerves. As soon as I realized where I had ended up, I cracked my knuckles, and set to work without hesitation.


    Some time later¨CI¡¯m not entirely sure how much time¨CI was still searching, running my fingers along the spines of books, pulling out volumes that probably hadn¡¯t been touched in years, flipping through hundreds of pages, all the while trying to find something, anything that could help me and my friends to better understand what had forced its way into our lives.


    And, even after all of that time, I had still come up with nothing.


    At first, I¡¯d tried to remain optimistic, thinking that the more I looked the more I would be able to find, but that hadn¡¯t actually been the case. Although I kept searching, the only books that including anything near what I was looking for concerning ghosts and the undead ended up being completely half-hearted and, in most cases, didn¡¯t take the subject matter seriously in the slightest.


    On one hand, I had kind of expected that¨CI doubted that there were many people in the world, if any, who had seen what my friends and I had and decided to write on it¨Cbut that didn¡¯t stop it from getting frustrated at the grim reality of it.


    Sliding my latest unsuccessful attempt at gaining knowledge back onto the shelf, I began searching again, scanning titles and looking hopefully for a spark of interest, even the briefest hint of something that could shed light on my situation.


    Still, nothing.


    Nothing¡­.


    Without really thinking, I knelt down on the floor, closing my eyes and resting my palm on the books in front of me. At that point, I could almost physically feel the weight of the past few months of not knowing catch up to me, right there in the library, surrounded by pieces of bound paper that did nothing to let me know what was going on.


    How much longer would it be before I had any idea what had happened, what wasgoing to happen? Sure, I had found a few names, as had Ayame, but what good did that really do, in the end? We had to get answers if we were going to be able to do anything, if we were going to be ready for the seemingly inevitable next brush with the supernatural. But how?


    I didn¡¯t know.


    The pressure continued, rising in my chest and filling my lungs like liquid, the questions flowing through my mind in a wild rush, turning over on themselves, fighting each other for space in my head.


    Then, I felt another pressure, lighter, softer, on my shoulder. I opened my eyes.


    Ayame was kneeling next to me, her head tilted, eyes a haze of concern as vast as the ocean, hair spilling over her shoulder. She looked at me for a second and then, suddenly, stood, motioning for me to do the same.


    ¡°Come on, Asher.¡±


    Not knowing exactly why, I followed her example, rising slowly to my feet and causing Ayame¡¯s hand to fall from my side to hers.


    ¡°W-what?¡± I asked, my voice a little hoarse. I cleared it quickly. ¡°Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°Just follow me, please,¡± she said softly. ¡°You¡¯ll see in a minute.¡±


    I nodded and, as soon as she received that signal, Ayame grabbed hold of my wrist gently, and led me through the main floor of the library and out of the front doors, cold air filling my lungs as I looked up at slowly darkening sky and wondered where I was headed.


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


    Author''s Note: Hope you''re enjoying Volume 3 so far. Remember to comment, rate, or review to let me know what you think of the story!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 4

    My ceiling got really boring after about the first twenty minutes of staring at it and, looking for practically anything to do to pass the time, I found myself laying on my stomach on my bed while trying to sink a ping pong ball into a plastic cup on the opposite side of my room.


    It wasn¡¯t easy, but I was in it for the long haul¨Ca tub of at least one hundred and fifty ping pong balls sat on the floor next to my bed, half empty with its missing contents scattered about my floor, and I hadn¡¯t given up yet. Holding up what I hoped would be my lucky ball in front of my right eye, I stuck out my tongue and aimed, lobbing it forward.


    The ball sailed through the air in a beautiful arc, coming down straight over the opening at the top of the cup, before shifting ever so slightly, bouncing off of the rim and rolling unevenly under my dresser, where it would most likely spend the rest of its life.


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    Rolling over onto my back, I caught a quick glimpse of my familiar ceiling once again, before shutting my eyes and cutting off the sight for good. Laying a hand on the cool sheets of my bed and feeling for my phone, I eventually located it (under my right calf, although for some reason I didn¡¯t feel it) and checked to see if anything interesting was going on.


    Nothing¡­.


    Laying the phone back down on my bed to disappear among the sheets, I sighed, accepting the fact that, for the first time in a long time, I was officially bored.


    Usually, I¡¯ll occupy my free time with my friends or, when they¡¯re not around, by playing games and watching movies. Today, for whatever reason, I had absolutely nodesire to pop in a movie and devote myself to two-plus hours of blockbuster action scenes and bland romantic subplots, and none of my games were calling out to me. Surprisingly, even my social media activity seemed to be MIA, which left me without many options in the home-entertainment department.


    And then, of course, there were my friends, who had all decided to hang me out to dry and do their own thing for the night. I¡¯d texted Asher earlier about doing something, but from what he said, he and Ayame were heading to a library or something to do ¡°research,¡± whatever that meant.


    And then there was Miller, who couldn¡¯t hang out because of some ¡°family business,¡± he had to attend to, which probably consisted of him video calling his parents in whatever foreign country it was that they lived in. Unfortunately, I guess those kinds of things take all night, which knocks him off of the table.


    Now, don¡¯t get me wrong, I did consider finding and hanging out with one of them, anyway, but ultimately I thought better of it. Miller probably doesn¡¯t get to have extended conversations with his family too often, and I didn¡¯t want to interrupt that, and while I would have loved to see what Asher and Ayame are like at a library together, it seemed to me like this was something they wanted to do alone.


    And so, there I was, bored out of my mind, throwing one-star ping pong balls at a small plastic cup for close to an hour.


    For maybe another fifteen minutes, I laid on my face, thinking about what a waste of my evening that was, before I actually got up and decided to do something about it. With a small push, I rolled myself out of bed, grabbed my phone (somehow already stuck between two sheets) and grabbed one final ping pong ball. With a flick of the wrist I launched it forward, hardly even aiming, and sent it nearly in a straight line towards the cup. Miraculously, it went right in, before bouncing straight back out and joining the pile of plastic balls already on the floor.


    Well, good enough for me, I thought, before slipping on my sneakers and heading out of the bedroom door. Setting off at a brisk jog, I traversed the halls of my house, dodging statues and trying unsuccessfully to avoid tripping over rugs, before coming to a halt in front of a large oak door on the third floor. Pushing it open, I was met with the smell of grass and moss, which I took a deep breath of.


    Walking forward and opening the second door, which was made of thin metal and led into the newly-installed terrarium, I stepped into a different world.


    The room was probably the size of mine¨Cmaybe bigger, and sported a small pond in the corner, complete with lily pads and a variety of reeds, all hand-picked by my mother. The air was filled with insects, from houseflies to dragonflies, which buzzed around my head at varying speeds.


    And, in the center of it all, sat Frogger, resting his sweet little head on a mossy rock, taking what was probably his sixth nap of the day. Although I had wanted to play with him a little before heading out, I decided it was best not to disturb him and settled with giving him a loving tap on the head.


    ¡°Sweet dreams, Frogger.¡±


    With that, I went back into the hall, and took the stairs to the first floor, walking across the main hall and reaching the front doors, where Wilson was standing in wait, as always.


    ¡°Hey, Wilson,¡± I said, giving him a nod which he quickly returned. ¡°I¡¯m going out for a walk. Tell mom and dad I¡¯ll be back later tonight, if they ask.¡±


    ¡°Of course, miss,¡± he responded, giving me a brief, mechanical bow, which I dismissed quickly.


    ¡°Alright, see you later!¡± I said, and was out the door, heading down the path that led to the main gates.


    After making my way through two of my mom¡¯s gardens¨CI swear, more and more of them crop up every day¨CI made it to the gates, and exited through them, making my first appearance in the outside world since school. A soft breeze rustled my hair, and I walked slowly forward, taking in the moving air that was such a nice change of pace from the stagnant, plastic air of my bedroom.


    Although I knew I wanted to walk around, I had no idea where I actually wanted to go, but I figured that that wasn¡¯t really a problem¨Cit was a big neighborhood, and I was sure that if I just walked around, I¡¯d find something to pass the time with.


    And so, after looking both ways, I crossed to the opposite end of the street, and began to move.


    For the most part, I simply walked around, checking out side-streets I had never been on, window shopping, even taking part in a three-on-three pickup basketball game. It was a nice evening, the warm sun beating down even as it made its sloping descent below the horizon, a gentle breeze blowing across the entire city, and almost no one in sight as the sky slowly deepened in color.


    In short, I was glad I¡¯d decided to leave my room.


    After an indeterminate amount of time¨Cmy phone had died in the first leg of the walk, and I hadn¡¯t seen any clocks since¨CI found myself circling around the neighborhood, eventually making it to a public park which, although it wasn¡¯t too far from my house, I had only been to once or twice.


    Surprisingly, almost no one was out and about, which gave me free reign of the public space, a power which I exercised by sitting on a prime bench located beneath a large maple tree that provided both the perfect amount of shade and a view of sloping hills of the land.


    As I sat there, watching the leaves sway , shifting the shadows they cast on the uneven ground slowly, I decided that I hadn¡¯t had such a bad day. Sure, all of my free time at school had been devoted to hasty practice for the upcoming local ultimate frisbee tournament, and of course there was the legendary ping pong ball fiasco, but I had also had a fun game of basketball with some nice girls, and a fun walk around the city.


    And, I remembered, there was the thing with the sword in the morning.


    Somehow, in the constant flux of excitement and boredom of the day, I¡¯d nearly forgotten about it, but the attempt now rushed back in full force. After all, it was a pretty easy memory to recall¨Cafter weeks of trying to make the sword appear again, with no luck, a random attempt this morning had resulted in the telltale tingling in my hand, this time coupled with a surge of pressure in my chest.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Even though he didn¡¯t outright say it, I don¡¯t think Asher believed my claim which, although it annoyed me, I couldn¡¯t exactly blame him for. Ever since the swords disappeared, he had been constantly reminding me that there was a good chance the swords appearing was a coincidence, something tied in with the zombies that we couldn¡¯t do again, which I guess made a sort of sense.


    But I don¡¯t think he really believes that, and I know for sure that I don¡¯t. That feeling of familiarity when I held the dark sword in my hands, the way they appeared right when we needed them¨Cthere was no way all of that was a coincidence, and I¡¯m sure that, somewhere deep down, Asher knows that.


    Still thinking about the sword, trying to remember exactly what it looked like¨Cwhich proved to be much harder than I would have expected¨CI glanced down at my hand, curling and uncurling my fingers. The memory of that morning still fresh in my mind, I closed my eyes, and tried again.


    Think, Cat, I thought to myself. How did you make it appear last time?


    And, without really realizing it, my mind took me back to the dark basement where we fought the undead. Although I was aware it was a memory, everything felt much more realistic than usual¨CAsher next to me, his eyes filled with resolve, the dull pounding of Ayame and Miller working on our escape and, most vividly, the silent, unyielding gaze of the warriors in front of us.


    I looked at Asher, and he looked back at me. Together, we charged.


    And that was when the tingling started up, beginning in the center of my palm and working its way outwards to the tips of my fingers. Unlike the time I had taken Asher¡¯s sword out of his hand, the tingling was light, almost pleasant, as if someone was taking a feather duster and giving my hand a good dusting.


    Here it is.


    Hardening my focus, I turned all thoughts to the sword¨Cat least what I could remember of it. I thought of my first swing against the zombies, of the well-worn hilt that molded immediately to the shape of my hand, the spikes that, somehow, I¡¯m sure it had.


    The feeling intensified, and I exhaled, trying to maintain my focus as the familiar pressure started to form in my gut. Asher wouldn¡¯t have believed it, but I could practically feel the sword forming in my hand.


    Then, I felt the laugh.


    I¡¯m going with felt, because heard isn¡¯t exactly the right word for what I was experiencing. Rather than having anything to do with sound waves hitting my eardrums, the laugh was something I felt deep within my core, something that bounced around in my bones shook me from the inside out.


    My concentration shattered, and the buzzing in my hand cut off immediately, the thin impression of the sword I had formed shattering and leaving me, for lack of a better term, empty handed. But, where on sensation stopped, another began, and the feeling of laughter continued, moving its way into my head as it transformed into a dark chuckle.


    Then, I suddenly recognized the feeling¨Calthough, the last time it hadn¡¯t been a laugh, it had been a chirp. Back before the zombies attacked, I¡¯d had a similar feeling with the bird calling out from the tree, even though it hadn¡¯t made a single sound.


    Back then, I had followed the feeling. locating the source within moments. I wondered, could I do the same thing here? Should I?


    The question was a good one, but I wasn¡¯t given much time to consider before the decision was made for me, as a moment later another wave of laughter washed over me and, without any indication as to how, I knew where it was coming from.


    Whatever it was that was reaching out to me, purposefully or not, it wasn¡¯t far¨Cif my feeling was right, the source wasn¡¯t any more than a block away. For a moment, I glanced back up at the leaves, catching a glimpse of the blackening sky, and wondered if it was a good idea to follow the laughter.


    A moment of silent deliberation, and I had my answer. Yes, there was a chance that whatever I found could be dangerous, just like the bird was, but I knew that I had to take the risk. Whatever was out there, it had to have something to do with the supernatural stuff we¡¯d all been running into lately, and I had to see what it was¨Cfor myself, and for my friends.


    My resolve bolstered, I stood up, and set off immediately towards the source of the laughter which, though it had faded significantly, I still felt in the background of my thoughts.


    In the end, all it took was a few minutes of walking straight down the street and taking a right, a bit more walking and another right, and I was there. To my surprise, the feeling had led me not to some super-secluded area, but to a normal-looking house, sitting comfortably next to its neighbors in the dark. Not noticing that all of the lights were off and ignoring the idea of a trespassing violation, I stepped through the gate, and entered the backyard.


    That¡¯s where I ran into the laughter, face to face.


    The first thing that took me for a spin was the fact that it was just a normal guy, crouched in the center of the yard, supporting himself on a faded swing set with one hand and clutching his face in the other, that entered my vision.


    The second was that he was on fire.


    Or at least, it looked like he was on fire, which is pretty much the same thing. Even though he had his back turned towards me, and it was getting darker by the minute, it was easy to see the thin tendrils of smoke rising from his shoulders, dissipating in the cool air of the night.


    Even easier to see was the blazing red aura that had engulfed him, making him shine like a light on a Christmas tree. His skin, I also noticed, had taken on a slightly red tint, although I couldn¡¯t be sure that that wasn¡¯t either natural or caused by the blood-red, full body halo, and I checked it as a ¡°maybe¡± on the mental ¡°Is that supernatural?¡± list.


    Looking closer I could see that, although he was relatively stationary, maintaining his position crouched next to the large lawn fixture, his entire body had begun to shake, starting off as a small shudder, and growing as I watched into a full body convulsion that nearly sent him falling to his side.


    I didn¡¯t know what I was looking at, or what to do, and so I took a step forwards, hoping to get a better look at the man, maybe see what was going on. That, simple enough, was a mistake.


    The man must have had extraordinary hearing, as even the small squish of my foot on the lush grass of the lawn was enough to send him reeling, turning around so quickly that he actually did fall over, planting his face in the ground and letting his arms come to rest at odd angles.


    Then, he stood up, supporting the weight of his body on unsteady legs, letting his arms swing around freely, uncontrolled, and smiled.


    It was dark, and as he took a step forward, I caught the light of a small fire spark to life and wink out in the moment the bottom of his bare foot made contact with the earth. His smile grew broader and, this time, I took a step back, as the figure approached me, smoke continuing to rise into the air, his eyes burning the color of hot coals.


    He continued forward and, this time, I found myself unable to move.


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    Author''s Note: This volume is heading towards the climax, and I hope you''re enjoying it so far. Let me know what you think!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 5

    As the man stepped toward me, burning holes in the grass, steam rising from his skin, the air around me shifted from mild to stifling in an instant. His eyes, even more than the surrounding area, blazed, seeming to bore a hole straight through me as they locked with mine, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.


    I tried to move, desperately, but something in his demeanor, his appearance, his verypresence, kept me from doing so, and I remained rooted to the spot as he approached. Before I knew it, he was no more than a step away, leaning forward and extending his face over my right shoulder, his skin emitting waves of heat towards my face as he took a deep breath.


    ¡°Ah, you can see me?¡± he said, his voice normal aside from a deep, dark undertone of clanging metal that rang below the basic tenor of his vocal chords. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a surprise? You humans don¡¯t usually catch me, once the taking¡¯s complete.¡±


    Trying to ignore his use of the word ¡°humans¡± as a group separate from him, I gulped and, after a moment of concentration, managed ¡°Who are you?¡±


    Rather than respond, the man (although I had already begun to suspect he was more than that) arched his eyebrows, before leaning a little closer and breathing in through his nose, no more than an inch from my neck.


    A moment later, I recognized the distinctive sound of him licking his lips.


    ¡°Mmm.¡± He pulled back a little, levelling his eyes with mine, and I was forced to resist the urge to punch him square in the jaw. His smile grew wider, opening in short bursts like cracks in a falling tree. ¡°You reek of the other world. What are you doing interfering with my catch?¡±


    His catch? I wondered what he meant, but pushed the thought aside quickly, knowing I had more pressing matters to focus on. His face was still mere inches from mine and, though I wanted to back up, give him a few choice words, I kept still for fear of starting something I couldn¡¯t finish.


    The body opposite me continued to stare, broken irises the color of rusted iron never wavering from my own and, suddenly, I knew beyond a doubt that this wasn¡¯t a normal deranged human I was dealing with. While what exactly the man was was still up for debate, human was not one of the options.


    After some time of mute staring, our breathing levelling out as we stood in silent stasis, the man took an abrupt step backwards, drawing his fingers to the skin at the edge of his lip and pulling downwards, regarding me with a look of pure contempt. Letting his hand drop to his side, he clacked his teeth together unevenly, blinking.


    ¡°Human¡­¡± he spat, hunching his shoulders and curling his nose. ¡°I don¡¯t know why in Hell you decided to confront me like that, but it¡¯s pissing me the fuck off.¡±


    His smile returned and, paired with his¨Cseemingly newly acquired¨Cvulgar language, it seemed even more sinister than previously. I clenched my jaw, flexing the fingers of my right hand.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡± The man clenched his hand into a fist, before running it along his shoulder, down the length of his forearm, eventually uncurling his fingers and twirling his wrist, his former burst of anger seeming to recede, for a moment. ¡°Sure, sure. Say, how¡¯s about you tell me your name, girl? At least let me know your rank and order¨Cwe can¡¯t very well have fun if we don¡¯t know a little about each other, right?¡±


    True to my word, I had no idea what he was talking about, but I decided not to try that excuse again. The steam rising from the surface of his skin had increased in amount and intensity, and the air felt even warmer than before, drying out my throat and working its way into my head. I tried to think of a way out of the situation, but nothing came to mind.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a rank or order,¡± I said, still thinking of possible courses of action, hoping to prolong the conversation. The man looked at me with a hint of amusement.


    ¡°A free-agent, huh?¡± He laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that for a second, girl. Your scent is too strong¨Cyou¡¯ve got to belong somewhere. Frankly, though, I don¡¯t really care whereyou¡¯re from, so long as you provide me some entertainment. I¡¯ve been locked out of this world for far too long, and I¡¯m ready to get some use out of this new body, for as long as it lasts.¡±


    I hardly had time to process his words, let alone wrap my mind around his comments about being from ¡°out of this world¡± and his ¡°new body,¡± before he was moving again, staggering towards me on the pads of burning feet, eyes wide. In a second, he was in front of me again, reaching his hand out, inches away from making contact with my jaw.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t have some fun.¡±


    That was when I snapped, all of the pent up anger, the agonizing minutes of standing there, not doing anything and waiting for a way out finally catching up to me. With a grunt and a surge of fury in my chest of the sort I¡¯d almost never felt before, I lifted my knee into my chest, and let my foot fly forward, making contact with the man¡¯s ribs with a satisfying crack.


    He staggered back, his ankles turning at odd angles as he clenched at his chest with one arm, slamming his teeth together hard enough that the sound reached my ears. Maybe it was from the shock of my actions that I stayed back, or, more likely, simply because I wanted to see his reaction. No matter what the reason, I was still standing there, my foot raised slightly off of the ground, when he raised his head, his eyes burning red, and snarled at me.


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    ¡°Fucking bitch!¡± he cried out, bending over once again. ¡°Oh, fuck, am I going to get you back for that.¡±


    Although I would have preferred a bit more variety in the language, his threat seemed serious, and I sunk back, ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice. I wasn¡¯t going to run¨CI was sure of that¨Cbut I wasn¡¯t going to take whatever it was he threw at me, either.


    Seemingly done with words, the man straightened out, curving his back and stretching out his arms. Then, as if deciding to throw his previous relishing attitude at the situation out the window, he charged at me, the red aura that surrounded him growing into a full blaze as he did so.


    Fire curled from hands, flew forward with each footstep, turning the short grass of the surrounding yard into cinders¨Csmall, curling black afterimages of their former selves that seemed to shrink away from his menacing form. A wave of heat washed over me and, surprisingly, time froze at the same moment.


    Now, froze might not be exactly the right word to describe what happened as he pounced at me, globules of fire dripping from his palms and splashing on the ground, molars grinding together, eyes blazing a vibrant shade of red. At the very least, however, it slowed, to the point that I saw him coming, my mind still working while his seemed to succumb to the force of his feral rage.


    Then, at that moment, with a frenzied, fire-laden beast charging at me at full speed, I remembered. The familiar pressure rose in my chest, a tingling sensation running up the length of my arm and reverberating in my bones, and I knew that I could, that Ishould, summon the sword.


    And I did.


    It appeared out of nowhere, bursting through the fabric of space and materializing in my grip, weighing my hand down with the all-too-familiar pressure of the dark, spiked metal. Time snapped back to normal in an instant and, when the man reached me, lungs supplying the fuel for unintelligible curses, eyes melting, I was ready, both hands enclosed around the well-worn grip of the sword.


    Holding the weapon fast, centered just below my belly button, I waited.


    Unfortunately, his reflexes proved to be no joke and, in the split second that it took for me to bring the sword out and position it in front of me, he was dodging, throwing all of his weight to one side and escaping the twisted edge of my blade with barely a scratch to show for it.


    Grabbing at the searing flesh at his side,, touching the fresh wound with a tentative finger before bringing it to his lips, he glared in my direction, his eyes full of the familiar malice.


    But, deep below, I caught another emotion being expressed through his eyes, now trained on the blade of my sword: fear.


    ¡°Wh-wha¡­.¡± he sputtered, eyes continuing to widen. ¡°Where?¡±


    He didn¡¯t continue his questioning, which I was thankful for, and instead, stood tall once again. Flames leapt in his eyes, and the ground below him burned in a dark circle as he shook his head, squinting his eyes shut. Steam rose from his wound in thick, dark wisps, coiling into the air like snakes, and he placed one hand over the wound, while a flame the color of the sun leapt to life in the other.


    As you probably know, I¡¯m not afraid to stand up for myself, but at the same time, I know when to pick my battles. Seeing the rage flashing in his eyes, the continuing, ever-burning intensity of the flames which surrounded him, I made a choice, and decided to run.


    I made it out of the wooden gate surrounding the yard, the ground underneath my feet transitioning from the crisp bed of burnt grass to the rough cement of the sidewalk, before he began following me. Although I didn¡¯t turn around, not wanting to lose any speed or diminish my lead, I could feel the pulsing surge of heat emanating from behind me, washing over my back, and knew that he wasn¡¯t far behind.


    So, not knowing what else to do, I ran, back in the direction I came, thinking of what to do. With all of the thoughts flying through my head, hitting up against the raw emotions of fear and panic and attempting to work around them, the only clear idea I could form was that, somehow, I had to get it away from the houses.


    Away from the houses, and go from there.


    And, with that single, concrete idea in mind, I kept running, a wildfire keeping pace behind me, throwing, shouting, creating flames as we made our way out from the group of dark, silent houses, and into the empty park I had visited centuries ago. Nearly the second I set foot on the plush grass of the public park, my chest surged with warmth, my heart beating faster¨Calthough that may have been from the running¨Cas the unfamiliar sensation I had experienced earlier in the day appeared, spreading through my arms and into my center.


    Only, this time, it wasn¡¯t unfamiliar. Unlike with the bird and the mysterious man chasing me, now, running through the park, I knew what the feeling was and, despite everything, I smiled.


    Somewhere, somehow, Asher was nearby.


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    Author''s Note: Be warned, there''s some foul language this chapter, but also some action. Be sure to leave a review, comment, or rating so I know what I can do better at with this story!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 6

    Ayame didn¡¯t speak again as she led me outside, although, after a certain point, she did let go of my wrist, obviously believing that I wouldn¡¯t be straying away any time soon. Even after she released her grip, the pressure of her touch didn¡¯t disappear immediately, and I glanced at it as I shook it out.


    The air outside was growing cool, and as we waded through the nearly empty sidewalks and streets of the neighborhood, passing by silent houses where dim light escaped through short, square windows, reaching into the darkening street and casting large, straight shadows on the ground. At one point, as we passed a house with a high, smudge-covered white fence, my ears were assaulted by the muted bark of a local dog, but aside from that, the night was silent, the background noises of the town fading into each other and leaving me alone with my thoughts.


    Honestly, I was a little surprised at Ayame¡¯s initiative in leading me out of the library, even if I had no idea why she had decided to do so. Of course, it¡¯s not like she was the type of person to hold back¨Cwhether it was in academics, interpersonal relationships, or anything else, she made it a point to give nothing less than her best¨Cbut, even for her, just grabbing my hand and whisking me away from the library was at least a step above her usual behavior.


    After some time travelling through the residential area of the neighborhood, the distribution of the houses shifted, clustering together on the right, while opening up into a sprawling, hilly field on the left, surrounded by a tall, green wire fence. As we approached the entrance, a simple break in the tilted wire, it suddenly hit me where we were headed: a park.


    Actually, once I thought further into it, I realized that it wasn¡¯t just any park, either¨CI¡¯d been there plenty of times when I was a kid, both fishing with my parents and simply walking around. As Ayame and I entered the public space which, unsurprisingly, was entirely empty at that time of evening, I glanced around, taking stock of its features, now familiar.


    Following the well-worn dirt path winding through the center of the rolling land, we made our way past lone trees, both single and groups of benches. My eyes trained towards the sky, now more of a deep purple than blue, I occasionally strayed off of the path slightly, soaking the bottom half of my sneakers on the damp grass, but I didn¡¯t particularly mind¨Cthe view made up for it.


    At the corner of my vision, the sun was setting behind the hills, skewing light and splashing the few surrounding clouds with shades of orange, pink and red, calling to mind a watercolor painting. Then, the path curved sharply to the right, shifting the slanted rays of light behind me, where they shone past, bouncing off of the surface of the small pond that I now faced.


    Directly in front of us was a tall, twisting willow tree, its thin, wispy leaves hanging low over the surface of the water and, without comment, Ayame moved to stand under the tree, and I moved next to her. The pond stretched out in front of us, a small circle of black amidst the blue-green expanse of grass, cat-tails shooting towards the sky and blowing slightly in the breeze, and I took a deep breath, taking in the damp scent of the area.


    Ayame, finally, turned to face me, her eyes shining a cool blue.


    ¡°Well, I guess we can talk, now.¡±


    Her statement seemed to me an obvious invitation to do so but, for some reason, the long stretch of silence, simply walking together and taking in the scenery, made it hard for me to respond. After a few seconds of running over responses in my mind, however, I finally managed something.


    ¡°What do you think we should talk about?¡±


    She gave it a moment of thought, staring over the surface of the water, shifting slightly, before speaking softly.


    ¡°Anything, although I¡¯d prefer if we started with what¡¯s been bothering you lately.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s been bothering me?¡± I asked, sticking my hands in my pockets.


    She gave me a sideways glance, her dark eyebrows arching slightly. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I brought you all the way out here, Asher. Ever since we started running into the supernatural, you haven¡¯t been acting like your usual self. You seem so much more¡­.distracted. We¡¯ve all given you space to sort it out, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s good for you to keep going like this. I was hoping you would tell me what¡¯s wrong.¡±


    Her words rung in my ears, and the first thing I thought was that, at some point, my friends must have gotten together and discussed the effect the past few weeks had had on me. At first, I wanted to harbor some resentment towards them for it but, in the end, I couldn¡¯t muster it¨Cit wasn¡¯t as if they were talking behind my back or anything, they were simply worried.


    And so, with that in mind, I took a deep breath, and turned towards Ayame.


    ¡°Alright, I guess I can try, at least. Do you want to go sit down?¡±


    Immediately, Ayame¡¯s eyes brightened, took on a slight look of what I took for relief, and she nodded. Leading the way, we walked a few steps down the path, before coming to a bench facing the pond. Although it was slightly corrupted by the bench¡¯s position downhill, we had a relatively good view of the pond and the colorful horizon beyond and, as I began to speak, that was where I trained my eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t actually know how much I have to say,¡± I began, watching a small dragonfly dart past us. ¡°At the very least, though, I¡¯ll try to explain what¡¯s been bothering me.¡±


    Ayame gave me a silent nod, apparently not wanting to interrupt my willingness to talk. I took that as my signal to continue.


    ¡°You guys are right that all of this stuff has been getting to me, at least recently,¡± I said, trying to push away the slight feeling of embarrassment welling up in my chest. ¡°It¡¯s just that, well, Italy was enough to change my view on pretty much everything, and that was only the beginning.¡±


    She looked at me, silent, and I went on.


    ¡°A few months ago, I didn¡¯t even believe in ghosts, but now I feel like there¡¯s a good chance I¡¯ll be attacked by one on any given day,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s hard to deal with, and the worst part is, I know absolutely nothing about why it¡¯s happening. That¡¯s the part I really can¡¯t accept.¡±


    A bird flew over our heads, probably heading back to its home for the night. I glanced down at Ayame¡¯s hands, folded in her lap.


    ¡°Does that happen with you guys, too?¡± I asked. By that point I was already up to my knees in the whole ¡°spill your soul to your friend¡± thing, so I figured I might as well just dive the rest of the way in. ¡°Are you ever scared about what might happen to you?¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Her response was immediate.


    ¡°All the time.¡±


    ¡°And how do you deal with it?¡± I asked, both surprised at her response and desperate to know her answer. ¡°Are you okay with just not knowing?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡± She clasped her hands tighter. ¡°I want to know what¡¯s going on more than anything, just like you. We all do.¡±


    I diverted my eyes from Ayame, casting my gaze across the once again glassy surface of the pond. Her words, spoken with such confidence of purpose that I couldn¡¯t help but believe them, rang in my ears, and I sighed. ¡°I just don¡¯t know how we¡¯re supposed to figure it all out.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I,¡± she admitted, stretching her legs out, shifting a little closer to me in the process. She looked in my direction. ¡°It¡¯s hard not to know, I get it, but you can¡¯t let it take over your life.¡±


    Part of me wanted to respond, to tell her that I wasn¡¯t letting it take over my life¨Cand I don¡¯t think it was¨Cbut I decided not to. Brushing her bangs to the side, Ayame continued.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that everything is going to be fine, or that we¡¯re definitely going to be able to figure all of this out,¡± she said, ¡°but there¡¯s one thing I want you to know. It might feel like you¡¯re facing this alone, and that you have to find out what¡¯s happening alone. But that¡¯s not the case.¡±


    Every once in a while, the sound of a car rolling past the park rose from the background, mixing in with the dwindling chirp of birds, but her voice rang above it all. She was turned completely towards me now, leaning a little bit forward.


    ¡°We¡¯re all a part of this, Asher, and every one of is going to be there if something happens. You¡¯re not going to be alone.¡±


    She stopped, taking in a deep breath, and I looked at her. Her eyes, open wide, were the color of the ocean at night, and they met mine.


    ¡°W-well, that¡¯s what I wanted to tell you,¡± she said suddenly, her eyes shifting to her own hands. ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to think we hadn¡¯t noticed, or didn¡¯t care, or anything.¡±


    Her voice had grown quiet, and I thought about the events that led up to us coming to the park, how, when Ayame found me in the library, nearly overcome by stress and panic, her first thought had been to take me away and tell me that she and the others wouldn¡¯t leave me alone.


    Honestly, I almost felt like laughing just from the situation, and how odd Ayame must have felt just by doing that, but I didn¡¯t want her to think I was doing so at her. Instead, I smiled.


    ¡°Thanks, Ayame,¡± I said. She glanced back at me. ¡°I¡¯m glad you told me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no problem,¡± she said, her ears a shade darker in the shadow. She fell silent, looking towards the sun, nearly set, a tiny semicircle of bright, otherworldly orange. I did the same.


    Then, I thought of something.


    ¡°By the way,¡± I said, still focusing on the quickly disappearing light. ¡°Did you end up finding any books?¡±


    She looked as if she had almost forgotten about the library, giving me a questioning glance before seeming to remember. Holding up her finger in a ¡°one second¡± gesture, she fished through her bag, before handing me three small, paperback books.


    ¡®That was all I could find,¡± she explained as I flipped through the pages of the first volume. It seemed almost like a dictionary. ¡°It¡¯s not much, but they do have a pretty good description of draugar in there, and I found a section on Banshees in the second volume. I figured it as a good start.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I muttered, still looking at the yellowed pages. ¡°This is great.¡±


    After a few more moments of looking through the first volume, which was separated by culture and contained detailed accounts of all kinds of mythological creatures associated with them, I handed the books back to Ayame. She placed them back in her bag, and I brought my ankle to rest on the opposite knee, leaning forward and thinking about our conversation and, most of all, the information she had just found.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I began, pausing for a second to collect the newly-formed thought before continuing. ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t focus all of my attention on finding and studying this stuff myself. In one day, you¡¯ve found as much as I did in months, and I know that wasn¡¯t on accident. It might be a better idea for us to go through all of this together. That is, if you¡¯re okay with that.¡±


    Ayame thought for a moment, and I wondered if she was going to decline my offer, after all. Luckily, though, she just smiled.


    ¡°That sounds great,¡± she said. ¡°When should we start?¡±


    Something like excitement leaped up in my chest, and I was tempted to suggest we start immediately, but then I stopped myself. Looking around at the park, the sun finally winking out on the horizon, water gathering on the short blades of grass at our feet, cattails blowing in the breeze, sending ripples racing across the dark surface of the pond, I realized that we had all the time in the world.


    I knew that, when the time came to start searching for answers again, Ayame would be there, along with Miller and Cat, and, I found, that knowledge helped diminish the feeling of having to do everything as quickly as possible that had been lingering at the back of my mind for the past weeks.


    And, besides, I didn¡¯t want this to end just yet.


    So, with the cool breeze of dusk making its way through the park and washing over us, we sat in pleasant silence, not feeling the need to say any more, and remained that way, up until a familiar feeling of warmth burst forward in my chest.


    It started slowly¨Cso slowly that I hardly noticed it¨Cbut, by the time that I made the realization that I recognized the feeling, it was practically burning a hole in my chest, reaching out with arms of fire, spreading down to my fingertips, down to the pit of my stomach, a painless warmth working its way to my very center.


    ¡°Is something wrong,¡± Ayame asked, her voice a little rough from such a long time without speaking. Apparently, the feeling was having some kind of effect on me outwardly, as well, if only to make me lean forward in confusion.


    I¡¯m not sure how I knew, what part of me hidden within the depths that recognized the feeling, saw it for what it really was. It was impossible, if I really thought about it but, at that moment, I didn¡¯t think¨Conly spoke.


    ¡°Cat¡¯s coming.¡±


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    Author''s Note: We''re reaching the end of Volume 3, let me know what you think!

 Volume 3 - Chapter 7

    They weren¡¯t hard to find¨Cby the time that I made it to the park, the strange sensation in my center that I had come to associate with Asher was strong enough that it probably would have been hard for me not to gravitate towards him¨Cand, after minutes of feverish running, I stopped, panting, in front of the park bench.


    Asher and Ayame were sitting closely, looking out over a small, dark pond, when I arrived. Although I felt a momentary sense of embarrassment at interrupting them, it didn¡¯t last long, considering the fire-covered creep had already nearly reached us, throwing various slurs in my direction while charging forward.


    Immediately upon noticing my presence, the pair stood up, turning towards me with pretty intense levels of surprise. Not that I could really blame them¨Chow often is your quiet evening in the park interrupted by a flaming maniac chasing a girl with huge sword at her side?


    ¡°Cat? What¡¯s going on?¡± Asher asked, taking a step towards me before halting, staring down at my hand. His mouth actually opened in surprise. ¡°The sword? How did you summon it again?¡±


    ¡°N-not¡­..much time to talk,¡± I said, still trying to regain my breath, bending forward and clutching my knees. The tip of the dark blade scraped the ground, gathering a thin film of moisture on its surface. ¡°I need help.¡±


    ¡°You need help?¡± That was Ayame. ¡°What hap¨C¡±


    The words died in her throat, her eyes widening as she stared behind me. I didn¡¯t have to turn around to know what had stopped her. Finally catching my breath enough to form a coherent sentence, I straightened up, pointing over my shoulder.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem,¡± I said, surprising even myself with how calm the statement sounded. I looked at Asher, who was also staring down the area just behind my shoulder, his hand raised halfway to his mouth. ¡°Asher, summon your sword. I don¡¯t think I can take this guy alone.¡±


    ¡°W-what¡­.¡± he began, a look of puzzlement, more than anything, dominating his face. ¡°Where is that thing from?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time t¨C¡±


    Although I was ready to explain to Asher that, with a guy who was literally on firechasing us down, probably prepared to do whatever it took to get back at me for what I¡¯d done to his side, we didn¡¯t really have time to discuss how I ended up in that situation in the first place, I wasn¡¯t given the chance, as he got there first. A wave of heat washing over my back, I finally turned around, coming face to face with the man once again.


    He had stopped maybe twenty feet away from us, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he took in deep breaths, massive amounts of air funneling in through the slanted opening he had created in pushing forward his lower jaw. The sun had set and, more than ever, I saw the flames, leaping outwards from his body, so bright that it hurt my eyes just to look at him. For some reason¨Cmaybe to conserve energy¨Cthe actual area of his body that the flames covered had died down, shifting from near full-body coverage to just spanning the length of his arms, two mini vortices swirling madly around their centers.


    I wanted badly for that realization to provide some relief but, of course, the knowledge that now it was just his arms that supported his magical death-flames wasn¡¯t very comforting.


    He stared us down, his eyes burning brighter than any flame I had ever seen and, after a few moments of nearly unbearable silence, he grunted, sending a fume of ashy-colored smoke towards the sky.


    ¡°Two of you?¡± he growled, flicking his eyes from me to Asher and Ayame. I wondered briefly if he had had trouble with math in school.


    ¡°What¡¯s he talking about?¡± Asher whispered, not taking his eyes off of the imposing figure in front of us. I shrugged in response.


    ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    We didn¡¯t say anything else, instead staring straight ahead at our opposition. Although my instincts were screaming at me to either run or fight¨Cmaybe both, if the situation called for it¨CI quelled the desire, knowing that no good could come from that course of action, at least not yet.


    Besides, even though the man stood with one foot forward, looking alternately like a statue and a bull ready to charge, his face was beginning to regain some of the sadistic composure it had seemed to posses when I first ran into him. Maybe, I thought, he was going to try and talk to us before he tried to kill us, like a good villain. That, at least, would give me some time to rest, and hopefully give Asher enough time to kick himself in gear.


    ¡°Eh, no matter,¡± he said suddenly, stepping backwards and assuming a tall, straight stance. A fleeting sense of pride shot through my mind at my correct guess, but I resisted the urge to pat myself on the back. ¡°Two or two hundred, there is no way garden-variety thieves such as yourselves could stand against my might.¡±


    Man, talk about an ego trip, I thought, wondering why he was suddenly so sure he could beat me, especially considering I was the one who had injured him.


    Then, something else jumped out at me.


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®garden-variety thieves?¡¯¡± I asked loudly, drawing surprised, and at least a little annoyed, glances from Asher and Ayame. To be fair, it might not be the best idea to question the authority of a guy who can light himself on fire and survive, but there was no way I was going to let him insult my¨Cand my friend¡¯s¨Chonor like that. ¡°We¡¯re not thieves.¡±


    ¡°I meant what I said,¡± he responded. He seemed a little irritated at my denial of his claim, but apparently he was also prepared to defend himself and his words. ¡°How else would you posses that sword? Now, admit to me your origins and relinquish your weapon, and perhaps I won¡¯t kill you just yet.¡±


    He smiled¨Cor, at least, I think it was supposed to be a smile¨Clike he was the kindest man on earth for offering to not kill us immediately. For me, however, it had the opposite effect. Something about his patronizing attitude, along with the fact that he had shifted so quickly from a grunting and growling mass of animal behaviors and wild looks into the kind of person that uses the word ¡°perhaps¡±, was really pissing me off.


    ¡°No way am I giving up my sword,¡± I said indignantly. ¡°I¡¯m not a thief and, even if I was, what do you want me to do? Turn it over to you, so you can use it yourself?¡±


    That last comment really seemed to get him, and with a puff of his chest, the man held up a flaming arm, as ready to lay into me as I was to shoot it right back at him.


    But, of course, Asher stepped in before he could, ruining my fun.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, loud enough to be heard but not so loud that it sounded like a command. His voice shook, just slightly. ¡°What do you want with us?¡±


    The man cocked his head, maybe deciding whether or not to submit to Asher¡¯s questioning. Then, he cracked a smile.


    ¡°Who am I?¡± His voice, when he continued, was laced with pride. ¡°I am Leonard.¡±


    Not laughing at that was probably the hardest thing I¡¯ve ever done. Rest assured, had the person who so proudly declared ¡°I am Leonard¡± been anyone other than a deranged man bent on killing me and my friends, I would have been on the ground.


    Unfortunately, however, I was forced to remain silent, as the almighty Leonard continued his speech.


    ¡°As to what I want with you, the answer is easy: nothing. Not anything in particular at least.¡± He shrugged, and seemed prepared to leave it at that, at least for a second. Then, his bloodshot eyes drifted back to mine, and he pointed in my direction. ¡°I took this body for myself, to have a little fun. The little bitch is the one that decided to come and mix it up with me.¡±


    His casual, downright erratic use of slurs and derogatory remarks had already ceased to affect me, although the same couldn¡¯t be said for my friends¨Cimmediately upon hearing his words, Asher and Ayame¡¯s eyes shifted, narrowing and widening respectively.


    Both looked like they were ready to give Leonard a few choice choice words of their own, but I cut in, more worried about the meaning of his words than their level of vulgarity.


    ¡°What do you mean you ¡®took¡¯ your body?¡±


    Leonard knit his eyebrows, his fiery firsts clenched.


    ¡°Don¡¯t act like you don¡¯t know wh¨C¡± he began, before throwing his head back in exasperation. His voice lowered to a growl. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m done with all this bullshit. If I keep messing around with you I¡¯m not gonna get to have any fun. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    For a second, I thought that he was going to leave us be, but when he stretched out his arms, revealing the nasty, six inch-long gash on his left side, just below his chest, I remembered why this was all happening in the first place. Leonard began to move forward, eyes flashing and forearms burning.


    ¡°Who is this guy?¡± Asher asked, staring forward and sounding genuinely confused.


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, but you might want to try and summon your sword,¡± I said, hefting my own while keeping my eyes on our adversary. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s going to go easy on us.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Cat,¡± Ayame said suddenly, sounding closer than I remembered her. ¡°Be careful. From what Leonard said, the body isn¡¯t his. Don¡¯t hurt it any more than you have to.¡±


    ¡°You got it, chief,¡± I said with a smile, sending Ayame a thumbs up over my shoulder. ¡°Oh, and you might want to hide out somewhere. This is probably going to get ugly.¡±


    My method of steeling my nerves in order to do something scary pretty much involves jumping right into it¨Cno thinking allowed, that¡¯ll only mess you up¨Cand so, as Leonard came towards me,holding his fiery arms in the air like a professional wrestler that¡¯s what I did, running straight at him, holding my sword high in both hands.


    We reached each other in seconds and, as he threw his arms forward, fingers spread wide, I slashed downwards, hoping to end things before they could really begin.


    My blade made direct contact with his left forearm but, to my surprise, had absolutely zero effect, the dark metal slamming on his bright-red skin and stopping as if his arms were made of stone. He leered at me, continuing forward, and I was forced to jump backwards, the spikes of my blade sliding over his arm harmlessly, simply to avoid being served a hot and spicy knuckle-sandwich.


    His fist whisked past my face as I moved, singing the edges of my hair. Luckily, however, he missed making direct contact, and as I struggled to maintain my balance, slamming the heels of my feet onto the ground and sinking into a wide stance, Leonard lost his battle with gravity, crashing straight into the earth with a thud.


    To his credit, he sprung back to his feet immediately, his face redder than the flames covering his arms, his expression seething. Then, without a hint of hesitation, he charged forward again.


    I wondered briefly how much longer it was going to take Asher to get his sword and come help me out, but I didn¡¯t dare to look¨Cone second of focus lost on Leonard and I¡¯d likely end up a charred Cat-kabob.


    Leonard reached me in a second, this time with a little bit more of a well-balanced stance, and reached his hands out again (I guess if something works, why experiment?). With another slice of my blade, I hit his arms, only for the the sword to bounce off once again, forcing me to jump to the side in a hasty dodge.


    Well, that about proves it. I wasn¡¯t sure why it was happening, but attacks to the arm were obviously a no-go. If I was going to make any headway in this fight, I was going to have to find some other way to do damage to him.


    Then, I remembered the gash in his side, and had an idea. The first time I¡¯d made contact with him, he¡¯d been covered in fire, but my sword had still done some damage. Maybe, since the fire had been spread out back then, it wasn¡¯t able to act as a shield, like the flames on his arms were now¡­.


    It was a pretty baseless theory, I¡¯ll admit, but it¡¯s all I had, and I decided to roll with it. No matter what, I decided, I would land a hit on something other than his arms and, with any luck, my suspicions would hold true.


    After all, it was our only chance.


    So, this time, rather than wait for Leonard to charge at me, arms spread in front of him like a kid who¡¯s been stuck as ¡°it¡± for far too long, I did the charging. Gripping my fingers around the warm hilt of the sword, I raised it to my side and, upon reaching him, dug my feet into the ground, swinging it in a wide arc like a baseball bat.


    Surprisingly, Leonard proved to have pretty amazing reaction speed, turning around upon hearing my rapid footsteps. In the split second before my sword made contact with his ribs, he threw his arm to the side, where he spread his fingers out and actually grabbed the blade of my sword. I struggled, trying to free the weapon from his grasp, but he held fast, small,white-hot flames leaping from his fingertips and onto my sword, before slinking back again.


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    Usually, in that situation, you would let go of the sword, and I agree that in most cases that would have been the best course of action. But, in this case, I knew that letting go of the sword would be even more of a death sentence than hanging onto it. If I gave it up to him, I¡¯d also be giving up my only fighting chance.


    And so, as he wound up a flaming fist, smiling much-too broadly in the process, I remained in front of my enemy, trying desperately to free my sword from his iron hold.


    It didn¡¯t work and, with a low grunt, Leonard let his fist fly.


    What happened next came as a surprise, even to me. With a quick flash of dull, almost indiscernible gold, and a quiet sound like someone swinging a tennis racket, Leonard fell forward and to the side, his hand sliding away from the surface of my sword as his face hit the earth. Standing above the fallen figure, an elegant-looking blade in his hand, was Asher.


    His face was the one of a man who had just received some very surprising news from his long-time girlfriend¨Calthough maybe one notch lower on the fear scale¨Cand I could tell that even he couldn¡¯t believe what he¡¯d done.


    ¡°You got the sword!¡± I said, jumping up and stepping around the fallen body of Leonard. ¡°How¡¯d you do it?¡±


    ¡°Not really sure,¡± he said, his voice slightly shaky. ¡°I just¨C¡±


    While I was genuinely interested in hearing his process for getting the sword to appear, we weren¡¯t allowed to continue the conversation as Leonard, despite the clean cut across his lower back, rose once again with a throaty bellow.


    ¡°That fucking hurt!¡± he shouted, his variety of language as stellar as always. His eyes caught sight of the sword in Asher¡¯s hand and, pupils dilating, he gritted his teeth. ¡°Another one? How many of us have you damn brats stolen from? Fuck, I really wish you would have minded your own business.¡±


    He didn¡¯t speak again, although he didn¡¯t really need to to get his feelings across¨Chis body spoke for him. The flames surrounding his arms grew ever-brighter, waves of heat and particles of fire rising into the sky and throwing dark shadows over his twisted face, which had already begun to mutate, apparently shifting to fit his mental state.


    First, it was the eyes. Up until then, the irises had simply been a fiery orange-red atop bloodshot sclera but, as he stood there, veins popping out of his neck, the whites¨Cnow blood red¨Ccompletely overtook the irises.


    Then came the rest of the face.


    At first it wasn¡¯t too bad¨Chis face simply seeming to grow wider, the bridge of his nose expanded about two inches, his one-tone eyes drifted apart, and his malicious grin forced its way to the edges of his cheeks. It was after that that things got weird, his lower jaw cracking as it pushed its way forward, elongating until it came to a sharp point, and, finally, the horns erupting from his head.


    It happened quickly, but for some, even compared to all of the other bodily transformation I had just seen, the horns appearing grossed me out the most. They erupted from atop his head like teeth from an infant¡¯s jaw, starting off as short, bloody stubs before making their full appearance, two curved, bony structures with points as sharp as a knife.


    And, if that wasn¡¯t bad enough, a third, shorter horn broke out a moment later, directly from his forehead.


    At that point, it seemed his transformation from a plain old fire-covered maniac into a wild-looking goat-unicorn-man was complete, and he charged forward, emitting a gut-rending screech from his impossibly wide mouth.


    I¡¯m going to be completely honest here and say that, after seeing all of that, I was about ready to turn tail, run, and maybe stop at the mall for some new underwear. But, when I thought about Ayame, who I had caught out of the corner of my eye positioned behind a tree, and all of the other people in the neighborhood that Leonard could get to, I knew I couldn¡¯t.


    Instead, incredibly, I simply sunk down, preparing for impact. Asher, standing at my side, his sword held loosely in his left hand, did the same.


    With two against one, even against a crazed goaticorn-man, I liked our odds.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hesitate,¡± I reminded him hastily. ¡°He¡¯ll kill us without a second thought.¡±


    He nodded, and a moment later, Leonard reached us.


    The addition of another person did a lot to speed up the fight, as even though I needed to dodge about as many times as before, Asher was there to pick up the slack when I did, swinging his blade in front of him in wide arcs and succeeding in driving Leonard back, even if just a little. Alternately, when Asher was forced to take a step back, I would dive in, jabbing my blade forward and chopping from over Leonard¡¯s head, attempting to push him to the ground.


    Long story short, we kept him busy.


    Unfortunately, neither Asher nor I were exactly trained swordsman. While we were able to do a fair bit of damage and hold our own, the fact that both of our opponent¡¯s arms could act as an impenetrable shield didn¡¯t make the fight any easier. Add onto it that, in line with his appearance, Leonard was a pretty ruthless fighter, and you can guess how easy of a time we were having.


    Still, Asher had pretty much confirmed to me that, besides the arms, our swords could do significant damage to the beast, and that gave me some hope, even when things began to go bad.


    It was bound to happen eventually, and I¡¯m honestly a little surprised that we kept our advantage for as long as we did, so when Leonard finally grabbed our swords with his giant fists, pushing us back onto the ground, our blades thumping on the soft grass, I wasn¡¯t exactly surprised. As he reared back, both his horns and his eyes glinting blood-red, I remember thinking that, if only I had been better with the sword, maybe me and Asher wouldn¡¯t have lost.


    Well, it¡¯s too late for that¡­ I thought. My hands slid through the damp grass, and I thought that I would need to find something to wipe them off on before realizing, with a certain undefinable emptiness, that it was too late for that, too.


    Leonard was charging us (what else is new?) and, although I contemplated looking away¨Cstaring at the sky, catching Asher¡¯s attention, anything¨CI decided against it.


    After all, who doesn¡¯t want to see their undoing, no matter what form it takes?


    She was in front of us, facing the charging beast, before I knew what was happening, and by the time I actually figured out what was happening, Leonard had almost reached her, and all I could do was watch.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Ayame yelled it as soon as she made it in front of Asher and me, and that was when it happened.


    Leonard, who was running at full speed, throwing, all of his weight behind his movements in an effort to completely destroy anything in his path, stopped as if an invisible wall had erected itself in a split second.


    He stopped, and I knew that, now more than ever, we had a chance.


    ¡°Asher, go!¡± I shouted, but he was already moving, grabbing his sword from the ground in front of him and launching to his feet. I did the same, and we ran forward, on either side of Ayame, toward our adversary.


    He was struggling against invisible chains, his shoulders shaking, his head tilting from side to side, his eyes screaming bloody murder as his vocal cords screamed much worse. If it was anyone else, I probably would have felt bad about what I was about to do, but it was Leonard, and that helped me to harden my resolve.


    ¡°Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck! You stupid bitch!¡± he was shouting, trying to move, to gain some purchase in his quest against whatever force held him back, but he didn¡¯t have any luck, as Asher and I reached him within a moment.


    Nearly in unison, we both struck, digging into Leonard with our blades, Asher hitting his chest while I slashed at his side. With one, final use of his favorite word, he fell backwards, finally released from the invisible grip, and fell silent.


    For a little bit, I stayed on my guard, worried that he would come back, guns¨Cor, well,arms¨Cblazing, ready to duke it out with Asher and me once again, but it quickly became clear that Leonard wasn¡¯t going to be making an appearance any time soon. The first clue came in the disappearance of the horns and other bodily mutations on the man, followed quickly by the various wounds Asher and I had inflicted disappearing.


    Then, whoever the guy was simply stood up, eyes closed, and walked away, in the direction of the house I had discovered him behind.


    And that was that.


    As soon as we were sure that there were no other fiery enemies to take care of, Asher and I set our swords down against a park bench, and they disappeared soon after. Then, we made our way back over to where Ayame had kneeled on the ground, and sat next to her.


    ¡°Ayame, you are officially, one-hundred percent, the best,¡± I said with a smile.


    She tried for a smile of her own, but it came out lopsided. For the first time, I noticed she was shaking.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, sounding a little out of breath. She glanced down at her hands, which were currently vibrating on her lap, and bit her lip. ¡°That was scary.¡±


    ¡°You were amazing, Ayame,¡± Asher said, echoing my thoughts. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Slowly, he reached out his hand¨Ca little shaky, itself¨Cand placed it on her shoulder. She turned to face him, giving him the hint of a smile, and some of my original curiosity came leaping back. They had gone to the library together, right? Had that been a date?


    I entertained the idea for a brief moment, but ultimately decided to let it slip away. For one, there was almost no way that was the case¨CI would have known¨Cand, besides, we had more important things to talk about.


    ¡°Not to get right down to business,¡± I said, ¡°but what exactly was that? I mean, I know he said he was Leonard, but what was up with the fire, and the horns?¡±


    Asher let his hand drop, bringing his pointer finger to his temple. He let out an audible sigh.


    ¡°That had to have been some kind of possession,¡± he said, staring at the spot where Leonard had been lying just a few minutes earlier. ¡°I¡¯ve read about it before, where ghosts, or demons, or something takes control of a normal person¡¯s body and uses it for themselves. That makes the most sense. The real question is why was he attacking us.¡±


    I scratched my cheek. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s kind of my fault. He didn¡¯t seem too happy when I found him taking over the body, at least.¡±


    ¡°You saw him actually possess the person?¡± Ayame asked, her voice a bit more level than before. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, I was sort of able to sense that something was going on,¡± I said. ¡°Then, when I followed it and found him doing his thing, he got pretty angry and attacked me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying you sought him out on purpose?¡± Asher asked immediately, leaning forward. ¡°Why in the world would you do that?¡±


    ¡°Curiosity, I guess,¡± I said, trying not to think of the old adage. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that I was going to run into a raging goat-man.¡±


    ¡°Cat¡­¡± Asher began, before trailing off and pinching the bridge of his nose. After a second of thought, he tried again. ¡°It¡¯s probably not a good idea to seek these things out, the way everything has been going for us. Next time you sense something, it¡¯s best that you avoid it, rather than go towards it.¡±


    The slightly exasperated tone of his words made me want to speak out, and tell him that there was nothing wrong with simply checking it out, but I couldn¡¯t. In the end, when I remembered Asher and myself on the ground while Ayame stood in front of us, unarmed, to stop a human-possessing beast from killing us, I had to agree.


    We fell silent, each of us lost in our own worlds of thought, staring up at the black sky, covered in clouds, between the breaks of which dim stars peeked out in random constellations. I have no idea how long we stayed like that before Ayame snapped us out of it.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting pretty late,¡± she said, still looking up. ¡°I think it¡¯s time for me to get home.¡±


    She stood, and Asher and I followed suit, agreeing and wondering what our parents were thinking. Wordlessly, we stepped onto the dirt path and headed back to the entrance of the park and, as I absentmindedly viewed the puffy gray clouds float across the heavens, I shivered from the cold.


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


    Author''s Note: One of the most action packed chapters so far, and also the finale to Volume 3! I hope you enjoy, and be sure to comment or rate the story to let me know how you think it''s going so far!

 Volume 4 - Chapter 1

    Though his eyes were closed, Sariel¡¯s vision swam with light, a swirling expanse of unearthly bright that drowned out the effectiveness of his other senses. In an effort to forget the present, he had decided to remember the past, and was stretching his focus to the outer edge of his consciousness and beyond, into the unknown reaches of thought, of time.


    He traveled back, and found himself at the beginning.


    To an outsider, the moment at which everything came to be may have seemed like an explosion; a superheated, rapidly occurring outward expansion of fire, particles, light, and life. Truthfully, while that view may have been correct, as Sariel sank deeper into his recollection, returning to a time when neither life nor death had yet to find a home, he would not have believed it.


    After all, when he remembered¨Cno, felt¨Cthe appearance of light, its journey to the far reaches of existence, forging a path of creation that forced its way into every nook and cranny of consciousness, possibility, he could not see it as something so violent as an explosion.


    Rather, had he been forced to put the memory into words, he may have described it as a single drop of dye spreading itself out in a jar of water.


    In his mind, the creation continued, a cooldown of unrivaled rapidity that, after the indescribable heat of the beginning, allowed reality to form. Without realizing why, he found himself fast forwarding through the early stages¨Cthe countless eons he had spent as all¨Cand coming to rest within the mere millennia he had spent as one.


    Originally, the angel¡¯s entire purpose in contemplating his Lord¡¯s most impressive triumph had been to forget, to erase the current events of his existence from his mind through recalling its origin, but he found himself abandoning that rather quickly. Eventually, his thoughts would return to the present.


    And, without fail, he would remember her.


    The news of Remiel¡¯s fall still burned hot in his memory and, although he now knew it to be true, it still felt unreal, more a dream than anything else. But¨Cas he knew all too well¨Cangels were not permitted to dream for very long and, immediately after his moments of doubt had vanished, the cold truth of his orders would rush in to take its place.


    Find Remiel, confront her and, if necessary, kill her.


    It was hard for Sariel, as he weighed the implications of his orders in his mind, not to think of Remiel as he had known her, to erase from his memory the years spent at each other¡¯s sides, working together for a time, consulting with one another forever after¨Cat least, until she turned.


    But, in keeping with his duty, those connections must be forgotten, placed to the side in favor of the balance of the opposing worlds. Remiel had made her choice, and, as a result, Sariel would be forced to act.


    She had left, and in doing so created a new start. A new beginning, not just for herself, but for Sariel, as well.


    The time was coming soon¨Cthe angel could feel it, deep within his chest, like iron in the forge. At any moment, he would be summoned, and sent in pursuit of his former companion. Then, she would either submit to her punishment, or face retribution.


    Sariel reflected on his duty once again, the knowledge that it must be done doing little to diminish his reluctance at carrying out the act. No matter how resolute his faith, how steeled his resolve, he could not escape the memory of her voice, the shadow of her smile, nor his one, ever-present question.


    Why?


    And so, as he waited for his summons, for his new life to begin, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and thinking back to the beginning, dissolving into a world of light, relinquishing his presence to the point that he could not even hear the small, soft footsteps approaching behind him.


    * * *


    Thousands upon thousands of stars hung in the sky behind the figure, shimmering islands of light in a sea of black, serving as a blazing tribute to her first act of freedom in what would surely be a long, illustrious career. Aside from the natural light show above her, the world was dark, so dark that she had trouble seeing more than a few feet in front of her as she sped forward, twenty feet off of the ground, flying through the air on invisible wings.


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    The darkness was so absolute, it encroached even upon her thoughts, filling the space and clearing her mind of all but her current action. She loved it.


    Below her, a desert stretched outwards in all directions, an alternating series of flatlands and rolling dunes riddled with long, thick lines disrupting the otherwise glassy smoothness of the desert surface. It looked, upon closer inspection, almost as if a group of giants had treaded through, dragging their enormous feet behind them.


    At the image, for the first time since her escape, the figure laughed, a soft murmur that quickly transitioned into a raucous roar, rolling through her chest and exploding past her parted lips. Her head lowered, and she stared once again at the desert floor, white as bone in the surrounding darkness. Wind rushed over her, sliding through stray strands of hair, roaring past her ears.


    She spread her arms wide, letting the oncoming rush of air slip between her fingers. In the onslaught of both wind and particles of sand, kicked up by her flight, she closed her eyes, cutting off her vision in an instant.


    But it didn¡¯t matter¨Cthe darkness of the desert prevented her from seeing much other than the shimmering points of light above her and, if given the choice between viewing them or nothing at all, she would be quick to choose the latter.


    For now, she thought, she had dealt with heavenly bodies enough.


    The air here was so much colder than that of paradise, and she felt every ounce of it as it spread through her body, biting at the edges of her ears, the ends of her fingers, the tip of her nose. She felt, and a small shiver of equal parts chill and joy swept through her.


    Once again, in the unending silence of night, she laughed.


    She couldn¡¯t help it¨Cshe had spent so long in stagnation, hoping, just waiting to be given the opportunity to do something. But now, Remiel didn¡¯t need to wait any longer. She needed no permissions. Beneath the endless expanse of a dark, silent universe, in a world full of life, she could do anything.


    She flew and, finally, looked to the stars once more. They shone down on her, filled her vision until it nearly swam with light, before she was forced to look away. In the past, they would have struck her as sublime above all else and, even now, they elicited a certain sense of awe from somewhere deep within.


    However, she now saw that the darkness was equal in purity to the light. It afforded the same opportunities, the same sense of wonder, and, in comparison to the shockingly short amount of time in which the light shone, blinding, before ebbing away, the darkness was constant, never wavering.


    Still, in glancing at the stars, she couldn¡¯t help but feel that Sariel would have enjoyed them, found comfort in the soft luster they displayed amidst the void.


    She hadn¡¯t meant to think about him but, in response to her single moment of error, Remiel¡¯s mind was quickly inundated with snatches of memory, moments not so long ago but already belonging in another life.


    Where was he, right now? What was he thinking?


    When would she see him again?


    The questions presented themselves but, not finding any answers nor feeling that she needed to, Remiel allowed them to fade away, believing that perhaps they would take the opportunity to vanish. She had made her choice, and must accept all that came with that decision.


    For the sake of her freedom, she must let her old life sink below the depths of memory, chained and anchored, never to resurface.


    Still, the stars shone on, an unceasing celestial radiance. Remiel lowered herself to the ground and, slowly, hazarded one last look at the brilliance, before turning her now-closed eyes to the ground, letting the afterimage fade, not noticing the tingling in her hands, nor the pounding footsteps approaching from behind.


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    Author''s Note: First chapter of a new volume! Hope you all enjoy, and be sure to comment or rate the story if you have been reading it to let me know what you think.

 Volume 4 - Chapter 2

    The sun beat through the open windows in shaky beams of heat, raising the temperature of the classroom well above that which a human could be reasonably expected to endure. For some reason, I had steeped myself in the delusion that, in the midst of a literal heatwave, the school¡¯s air conditioning would kick in and prevent its students from weathering the fires of hell.


    I couldn¡¯t have been more wrong.


    All around the classroom, students took whatever measures necessary to lessen the intensity of the heat--procuring tiny fans from their backpacks, buying drinks from the vending machine in the entryway and holding them to their faces and necks for the short amount of time it took for them to rise to room temperature, even risking later exhaustion and fanning themselves with notebooks--although none of these practices proved very useful in the long run.


    Even with the many different methods my classmates employed to stave off an impending heat stroke, the entire situation was pretty horrible. In the end, I firmly believe the only reason we were able to stand it was that it was the last day of school before summer break and, by the good grace of the higher-ups, we were pretty much allowed to do whatever we wanted.


    One more day, and then we were out. That promise kept us moving forward, even in the face of such an overwhelming obstacle as early-summer heat.


    I had taken small steps to stay comfortable, unbuttoning my shirt at least as far as the dress code would permit, spreading my legs and arms out, laying my face down on the warm surface of my desk, and moving as little as possible. The results were negligible, but I wasn¡¯t about to move and risk wasting the little amount of comfort I had managed to earn for myself.


    To my left, my friends had adopted their own methods of beating the heat. Miller was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed, taking slow, deep breaths in through his nose and letting large puffs escape from his mouth in a steady rhythm. I wondered if he was meditating, trying to perfect his visualization capabilities and make his body believe he was sitting in the frozen tundra, rather than a roasting classroom, but I didn¡¯t ask--too much trouble.


    Asher and Ayame had also done what they could--although in comparison to the rest of the class, they were pretty scarce on theatrics. Ayame had tied her hair back in a loose ponytail and pushed her bangs to the side, while Asher had simply unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, taking small sips from an insulated water bottle every few minutes.


    Their general lack of reaction to the heat was amazing enough, but what got to me even more was the fact that, rather than complain about the temperature and collapse into lethargy, they were actually doing something. Shifting to the empty seat in front of Asher, Ayame had turned around, pulled a book out of her bag, and began to flip through it, discussing in hushed tones what seemed to be very important--and classified--information.


    Of course, it¡¯s not like I shouldn¡¯t have expected them to do so. After our confrontation with Leonard, the two of them had gone about as deep as possible into researching everything they could find concerning the supernatural. Every once in awhile, they would come to me with a short briefing on what they¡¯d discovered, giving me complex blurbs on subjects ranging from recorded cases of possession to the ghost mythology of a small Germanic tribe in ancient Europe.


    Other than that, however, they mostly kept to themselves when it came to the supernatural spiels, which I felt was probably for the best. While I was definitely interested in learning more about what was going on around us, it was really draining to devote so much time to thinking about and studying it, and I figured I¡¯d better leave it to the professionals.


    Although I hadn¡¯t been able to muster up enough energy to ask Miller what he was trying to do with his sudden shift into a meditative state, I decided to make a special exception. Actual, dedicated movement and activity at a time like this was simply too out of this world to not comment on.


    ¡°How are you two even able to move right now?¡± I asked, my words melting together in the intense heat. ¡°It has to be at least a hundred degrees right now.¡±


    They stopped in mid-sentence, looked at each other briefly, and turned towards me. Ayame gave me what I took as a sympathetic smile, while Asher just shrugged.


    ¡®It¡¯s not actually that hot,¡± he said, resting his arm on the back of his chair. ¡°If you don¡¯t think about it too much, it¡¯s pretty bearable.¡±


    My mouth opened, my jaw hitting the surface of the table.


    ¡°Bearable?¡± I waited a moment for him to respond--he didn¡¯t--before shaking my head, taking his attitude as a fluke, a probable glitch in the workings of the universe. Instead of wasting my time trying to understand it, I turned to Ayame, eyeing her long hair, dark as a raven. ¡°What about you, Ayame? How are you able to stand it?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± She thought for a moment, before giving me a shrug only a tad less noncommittal than Asher¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I do spend a lot of time outside during the summer. Maybe that has something to do with it?¡±


    Although I appreciated her attempt a concrete reason for her inhuman resistance, I still wasn¡¯t able to wrap my mind around it. It was so hot, how could anyone function normally?


    In most cases, I would have continued my line of questioning, attempting to dig deeper into the mystery that is repeated productivity, but in the end I couldn¡¯t manage it, instead sinking lower into my chair and following in Miller¡¯s footsteps. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, trying to think about anything but the heat.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I¡¯m not entirely sure how long I spent in my suspended state but, considering that when I came out of it the school day wasn¡¯t yet over, it wasn¡¯t enough.


    In fact, the only reason I opened my eyes at all was because of a sudden shade caused by a figure standing in between me and the sun. Surprised, I looked up at my angel, ready to sing their praises.


    She was a girl, maybe a year or two younger than us, short, with wavy strands of auburn hair tied in a lazy knot. I couldn¡¯t see her face, as she was facing Asher and Ayame but, after all she had done for me, I imagined it was beautiful.


    ¡°Hey, Asher,¡± she said. Her voice was quiet, but naturally carried a commanding tone. I listened closer. ¡°Are you ready to head to the club meeting?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Asher said, his voice muffled by the figure standing between us. ¡°Just give me a second.¡±


    After a few seconds of shuffling around, he stood next to the girl, and I got my first glimpse of her face. it was slightly rounded, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and just below her bright green eyes. I couldn¡¯t help but think my original imaginings may have set the bar a little too low.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got to to go,¡± Asher said, looking away from the girl and at us. ¡°I¡¯ll see you guys later today.¡±


    All of us--even Miller, eyes still closed--sent him off, and he disappeared through the classroom door a moment later. I noticed, with a brief sense of amusement, that a few of the guys in class were eyeing him suspiciously as he did so, probably wondering why the cute girl had come to get him, something that only became funnier when I thought of why she had collected him.


    From their conversation, it was clear that Asher¡¯s club, in light of the free day at school, had decided to hold a meeting. And for that, of course, they would need their president.


    Okay, I guess I need to explain a little bit about Asher¡¯s club, for you to get the full hilarity of the situation.


    Back when we first entered high school, Asher performed his first (and probably last) act of school involvement. Gathering up a few other students from multiple grades, he got enough people to officially form a new club, and set it up within the first week. Thus, the Cloud Watching club was born.


    But, that¡¯s not the funniest part. For some reason that I don¡¯t think anyone can pinpoint, Asher¡¯s club became extremely popular within his first year, amassing over seventy members by the last day, and continued to grow--by our junior year, it had over one hundred and thirty-five registered members.


    And that¡¯s not to mention the people that crash the meetings.


    So I¡¯m sure that, after hearing all of that, you¡¯ll understand why the surprise, and even envy, of some of the guys in my class made me laugh.


    After Asher left, the three of us sat in silence for a while, Miller continuing to sink deeper into purifying nothingness, Ayame flipping absent-mindedly through her book. Meanwhile, I continued to chuckle to myself.


    Then, I had an idea.


    ¡°Whoa, guys, you know what we should do?¡± I asked, sitting up suddenly, facing the heat of the sun head-on.


    Neither of them said anything, but I did grab their attention, Ayame looking away from her book and Miller cracking an eye open. I continued hurriedly.


    ¡°We should crash Asher¡¯s club meeting,¡± I said, already smiling at the prospect. ¡°See what actually goes on at them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they watch clouds,¡± Miller said, closing his eyes once again. ¡°That¡¯s kind of their thing, you know.¡±


    ¡°Well, obviously,¡± I said, rolling my eyes in his direction and eliciting a small chuckle from Ayame. ¡°But there¡¯s no way that¡¯s all they do. Come on, you can¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve never been curious about just why the club is so popular.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably just that people like to watch clouds,¡± Ayame said. ¡°It¡¯s pretty relaxing, after all.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± I waved my hand. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be interesting to see it firsthand, though? Besides, it beats sitting around here, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    Ayame considered for a moment, before nodding. ¡°I¡¯m not against the idea. If you want to go, I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    Yes. Underneath my desk, I clenched my fist in victory. One down, one to go.


    ¡°What about you, Miller?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm?¡± He opened his eyes, just an inch. I leaned forward.


    ¡°Do you want to go to Asher¡¯s club meeting?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said, and then shrugged. ¡°Whatever. It¡¯s better than sitting around here, I guess.¡±


    I felt a surge of happiness, large enough to make to forgive the fact that Miller had repeated my earlier question near-verbatim, and I stood up.


    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s head out!¡±


    Within a few minutes, we had gathered up our belongings and, leading my friends, I was out the door, walking briskly through the warm, stuffy halls in the direction I had seen the girl lead Asher.


    The school day, up until that point, had been pretty boring but, despite the slow start, I couldn¡¯t help but think that this was going to be a fun last day of school. With that thought ringing in my head, we exited the school building, and I glanced up at the thin clouds hanging over us, shielding my eyes from the sun, and smiled.


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    Author''s Note: Things are gonna be a bit more laid back for the next few chapters, but then we''ll get into the real action of the story. Hope you enjoy, and remember to comment or rate so I know what you think!

 Volume 4 - Chapter 3

    By the time that I made it outside of the school building and completed the journey to the soccer field, where we held our meetings, most of the members had already arrived. Laying down wherever they could find room, they dominated the field, covering the entire area in blankets, pillows, bags, and whatever else they had decided to bring with them.


    Natalie, the girl who had come to notify me of the meeting, as well as the treasurer of the Cloud watching club, led the way, her knotted hair bouncing up and down as she stepped over the bodies of students, filling me in on the details of the meeting as we went.


    ¡°Sorry we didn¡¯t let you know earlier,¡± she was saying, turning back to face me with a smile, nearly stepping on the torso of a freshman. ¡°Masako got the idea this morning, and we were so busy notifying all of the other members, we nearly forgot to tell you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± I said, dodging a group of kids playing dice. I surveyed the field, scanning the faces of those in attendance. ¡°It looks like you got almost everybody here. Good job.¡±


    ¡°Nah, it was easy.¡± She shrugged. ¡°All we really had to do was say ¡®Club Meeting¡¯ and everyone came running.¡±


    ¡°Well, thanks, either way,¡± I said, taking another look around the soccer field.


    No matter where you looked, there were students, taking part in about as many activities you could imagine¨Cplaying games, reading books, meditating, drawing, or even just talking with one or another. I noted, with a smile, that the majority of people in the cloud watching club, with the possible exception of me and the other leaders, didn¡¯t look up at the sky once during the meetings.


    But, that wasn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing. In the end, everybody in the club has fun, even if it isn¡¯t expressly through watching clouds, as the name would imply. Actually, if I had to pinpoint the exact reason for the staggering popularity of the club, that would probably be it, even if Cat doesn¡¯t think so.


    After a bit more wading through club members, conversing lightly with a few along the way, Natalie and I made it to the front of the court, next to the net, which served as the unofficial meeting place for the leaders of the club. Immediately, Natalie sat down on the ground, leaning against the chipped white pole of the soccer net, and I sat next to her, stretching my legs out and leaning back.


    As expected, the other two members of the club office were already there.


    Masako, vice president, had laid out a fleece blanket and a pillow, and was lying down, staring at the clouds with a heavy-lidded gaze. Strands of her hair¨Ca dark black tinged with so small an amount of purple that I couldn¡¯t tell whether or not it was dyed¨Cflew out in all directions, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind, taking deep, rhythmic breaths and never looking away from the blue expanse above her.


    Meanwhile, Jay, an excitable freshman who had worked his way up to secretary through pure passion for the club, sat on the opposite side of Natalie. As soon as she and I had settled in, he produced two bottles of water¨Cfrom where I don¡¯t know¨Cand handed them to us with a lopsided smile.


    ¡°Nice to see you, prez,¡± he said, looking at me with eyes as blue as the sky above us. Then, almost as an afterthought, he glanced at Natalie. ¡°Oh, you too, I guess.¡±


    Her response was to give him a mostly-friendly shove on the arm, sending him rocking to the side, his grin wider than ever.


    ¡°Save the kissing-up for later,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯ve got to discuss our plans for the meeting.¡±


    ¡°Plans?¡± Jay asked, picking blades of grass from his golden hair. ¡°Isn¡¯t this just a normal meeting?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said. Natalie had filled me in on the way there, and I had a rough idea of the plans she and Masako had come up with in the morning, which I figured I would let Jay in on. ¡°Today¡¯s the last meeting of the year, so it¡¯s kind of special. We¡¯ve got quite a few senior members, and we want to thank them for the years they¡¯ve devoted to the club.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I get it,¡± Jay¡¯s eyes lit up, and he nodded quickly. ¡®What¡¯s the plan, then? Are we gonna throw them a party?¡±


    ¡°No party,¡± Natalie said, taking control of the conversation and extinguishing the fire in Jay¡¯s eyes before it was too late. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time for that. We¡¯re just going to have them stay after the meeting and thank them in person.¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    He folded his arms and turned his attention to the sky once again, as if he were slipping into deep thought. Natalie, however, had other plans.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she said, tapping him on the forehead and diverting his attention from the clouds. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s nothing for us to do. Me and you still actually have to tell the seniors to stay after the meeting. Come on.¡±


    With that, she stood, and motioned for Jay to follow. Almost immediately, the light returned to his eyes, and he sprung to his feet, ready for action. A moment later, they were gone, wading through the crowd and looking for as many seniors as they could find.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to make good leaders once we¡¯re gone, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Masako addressed me from the ground, her voice quiet and dreamlike. She was focusing her gaze on a large group of clouds near the sun, their rounded edges seared pure white, and I trained my eyes in the same direction.


    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re not dead yet,¡± I said, feeling that it wasn¡¯t necessary to address her question¨Cwe both knew the answer already. ¡°We¡¯ve still got another year.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about that. A high-stress environment such as this one advances the aging process, and could very well lead us both into early retirement. Just look at the damage it¡¯s already done to your hair.¡±


    Had anyone else been listening, they probably would have thought she was serious¨Cespecially taking into account that neither her facial expression nor tone of voice had changed in the slightest¨Cbut I knew better.


    After all, along with being the only other original member not yet graduated, Masako had been the first person I¡¯d approached about forming the cloud watching club, and had helped me with every step of its formation. You don¡¯t go through something like that without getting to know a person pretty well.


    ¡°Well, no one ever said being President and Vice-president was easy,¡± I shrugged, fingering a strand of hair and deciding that, unlike with Cat, it wasn¡¯t worth making a big deal about her joke. ¡°But, I think you and I will be able to last until graduation, even so.¡±


    Rather than respond, she simply gave me a double thumbs-up, before letting her arms drop and turning her dark eyes to a section of promising cirrocumulus clouds in the distance.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    One more time, I looked out over the club members, making sure that everyone was comfortable and that there were no more issues to be addressed. Aside from a small conflict over what constituted proper board-game etiquette, and someone playing their music too loud¨Cwas that Chopin?¨Ceverything seemed fine, and I laid down on my back to finally take part in club activities.


    And, just before I did, although I¡¯m sure she imagined I couldn¡¯t see her, I noticed a flash of red on the opposite end of the field, appearing for just a moment before ducking behind a storage shed. With a small smile, I placed my hands behind my head, and searched the sky.


    The club meeting ended nearly an hour later, with most members drifting off slowly with promises of meeting up over the summer or seeing each other next term. The seniors¨Cabout thirty of them, all rounded up by Natalie and Jay¨Cnow stood in front of us, looking only slightly confused and muttering to each other occasionally.


    Although speaking to one person is usually a struggle for me, let alone speaking to nearly three dozen, I pushed my hesitation down. Masako, Natalie, and Jay stood at my side, and I thanked the group of seniors for staying with the club as long as they did, my voice only shaking slightly.


    It went by quicker than I expected and, after a few short conversations and promises to keep in touch, the seniors were gone, leaving me and the others alone. For a moment, none of us spoke, each of us glancing at the sky while thinking of what to say.


    Eventually, Natalie broke us out of our trance.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go get my stuff together,¡± she said, pointing behind her. ¡°It¡¯s been a great year, everyone. I¡¯ll see you in a few weeks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to head off, too,¡± Jay said, his voice quiet and his eyes slightly damp. Although he had tried to hide it, the farewell to the seniors had taken its toll. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch in his head, his eyes lit up, all former sadness seemingly forgotten. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯ll be sure to text you all about hanging out, like we talked about last meeting.¡±


    ¡°Alright, that sounds like a good idea,¡± I said, putting my hand in my pockets. ¡°Thanks for all of your help so far.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± they said in unison, a fact which sent Jay into what I can only describe as a fit of laughter. Natalie, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem so amused.


    Then, just like that, they were off, walking towards the school building and waving farewell. Masako and I waved back and, with a final call of ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to call!¡± from Jay, they disappeared.


    Masako and I waited for a moment, wordless, but in the end I decided to take the initiative.


    ¡°So, I guess I¡¯ll see you next year?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, yeah,¡± she said with a small roll of her shoulders. ¡°But, from what Jay said, we might see each other sooner than that.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right,¡± I said, thinking of what it would be like to meet up with them outside of school. ¡°He sounds pretty excited about it, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he does,¡± she agreed. ¡°But, I guess I get it. It does sound like fun to hang out without having to deal with managing the club, for once.¡±


    ¡°Definitely.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to go.¡± Masako changed gears in an instant, and I wondered briefly what her internal thought process must look like. She stretched her arms out over her head, before bringing a hand down and patting me on the cheek twice. ¡°See ya later, Asher.¡±


    It took me a moment to respond, as I was still trying to figure out what the whole cheek thing had been about, but I was eventually able to manage a simple ¡°Bye.¡±


    After Masako made her exit, almost as if on cue, Cat burst forth from behind the shed, red locks flying as she ran towards me. Miller and Ayame, after a moment of hesitation, followed in her lead.


    ¡°That looked really boring,¡± she said as soon as she reached me, not even taking the time to make the reveal that she had been watching me which, of course, I had already figured out. ¡°You all just layed around the entire time.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what we told you when we got here,¡± Miller said, approaching from behind her, his hands in his pockets. ¡°It is the cloud watching club.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but even I didn¡¯t expect cloud watching to take so long,¡± she said. ¡°It just made me think about all of the fun things you can do during that time.¡±


    I was ready to explain to her that people¡¯s interests differ, and that, while she may not enjoy it, a lot of us had fun at the meetings, but she never gave me the chance. Apparently, her last comment had led her to some sort of revelation, and she had turned her attention to the sky, holding a finger up as if directing our attention to it.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± she said. ¡°I have an idea.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Ayame asked, her eyes bright in the newly-revealed sun, just barely poking its way out from behind the clouds.


    ¡°The beach,¡± Cat said, as if that explained everything. Then, realizing that none of us understood what she meant, she elaborated, ¡°We can¡¯t let our summer be boring. We should go to the beach, as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that sounds fun,¡± Ayame said, nodding her head. ¡°I haven¡¯t been to the beach in years.¡±


    ¡°Me either,¡± Miller agreed. ¡°That would be nice, especially with how hot it¡¯s getting.¡±


    ¡°Mmhmm.¡± Cat nodded, hands on her hips, smiling proudly at her suggestion. She faced me. ¡°What do you think, Asher?¡±


    For a brief second, I thought about her idea, but it didn¡¯t take long for me to come up with an answer. After all, if everyone else was into the idea and wanted to go, there wasn¡¯t much of a reason for me not to be.


    ¡°Sure, that sounds good.¡±


    ¡°Alright! I¡¯ll make the plans tonight, then,¡± Cat said, throwing her hands in the air and twirling around on her heels. She took a few steps forward, before turning back around to face Miller, Ayame and me, her eyes twinkling. ¡°I have a feeling this summer is going to be the best one yet!¡±


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    Author''s Note: We''ll be getting into the more intense parts of this volume soon, so I hope you all enjoy the rest and relaxation before things start picking up--for good. If you enjoy the story, let me know in the comments! Thanks for reading.

 Volume 4 - Chapter 4

    Ambriel sat on the edge of the stone bridge, feet dangling, looking over the dark water and wondering when he was going to get there. Wringing her hands together, she began to whistle the theme of a television show that had been popular in the late 1950¡¯s, trying her best to raise its volume above the constant buzz of crickets surrounding her.


    She whistled, eyes flicking back and forth down the dark road behind her, and waited.


    He appeared on the twenty-seventh repetition, strolling down the walkway gingerly, hands shoved in the pockets of an oversized trenchcoat. Even in the middle of the night, from thirty feet away, Ambriel could see his hair, the color of dandelions, spilling over his shoulders and framing his pale, moonlit face. Squaring her shoulders, she faced the dark water once again, taking a deep breath.


    ¡°Hello, Ambriel,¡± he said upon reaching her. In one fluid movement, he turned on his heels and leaned back against the stone edge of the bridge. ¡°The time has come. Have you given my proposal any further thought?¡±


    She gulped, and cracked her knuckles. Her voice, when it came, sounded like slowly crumpling paper. ¡°I¡­.I have questions.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He tilted his head in her direction and smiled. His eyes were the color of the sky just entering dusk, a field of merging blues and purples, and they looked at her with intense interest. ¡°I did not expect you to join our cause without first clearing up any confusions you have as to our goals. Ask away, and I will do my best to answer, as well as quell any fears you may have.¡±


    ¡°W¡­why do you need me?¡± Ambriel¡¯s voice drifted slowly down to weathered stones of the bridge, coming to rest on the surface of the water below them. ¡°Do you not have the support of the host under your command?¡±


    ¡°Fear not, those under my command give their full support to the cause,¡± he replied without a seconds pause. ¡°But, as to why I need your help, Ambriel¡­..well, I suppose it¡¯s not that I need it. Rather, I want your help.¡±


    He spoke slowly, his voice like honey dripping out of the bottle. Ambriel closed her eyes.


    ¡°Then, why do you want me?¡±


    ¡°That, my dear friend, is simple.¡± He exhaled deeply, turning his head towards the dark slate of the overcast sky. ¡°I want all who are willing to help to do so. But, more than that, I want all who are worthy to do so.¡±


    ¡°Worthy¡­.¡± Ambriel tried the word out for herself, but she could not seem to get it to roll in the same way, and let it die on her tongue. ¡°What¡­.what is it that makes one worthy?¡±


    ¡°Ah, there is the real question. What makes one worthy to join a righteous cause, to lend their power in the pursuit of that which is good, and true? Under normal circumstances, one could not know, but luckily, I carry the answer.¡±


    He took his hands out of his pockets, and laid them on the cold surface of the stone behind him.


    ¡°You, Ambriel, are worthy because you see. You see that there is wrong, but you also see that there is a way to make it right.¡±


    ¡°Wrong¡­¡± She glanced down at her feet, her heels resting on the rough siding of the bridge. ¡°I see that which is wrong?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the angel beside her turned, leaning on his elbow and staring forward, his eyes wide. ¡°You have seen it, Ambriel, I know you have. You have noticed that the system we are ruled under is an unjust one, where those in power are so simply because it is where they found themselves in the beginning. Where our brothers and sisters, so withheld from their purpose, are driven from their just path and sacrificed to the enemy. You have seen, and so you deserve to aid us in changing this truth.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ambriel hazarded a glance at her companion, before shifting her gaze to the dark water once more. ¡°A-are you¡­¡­sure it can be changed? Has our Father not decided that this is the way it will be?¡±


    ¡°You are right, Ambriel, that our Father, in his wisdom, designed the order of the angels in such a way. But, that does not mean that he created them to be forever unchanging,¡± the angel¡¯s eyes blazed. ¡°The Lord knows all, is ever-loving and ever-good, but those below him are not. They are that which must be overcome, the obstacle which has been placed before us. Our Father rewards the righteous. When we succeed in prevailing against the corruption inherent in this order, we, all of us, will earn the place at his side.¡±


    ¡°But how will we be able to stand up against them? How are you so sure we can prevail? How do you know you are right, Barachiel?¡±


    He smiled.


    ¡°How? The answer is simple: we will stand, forces combined, the Lord standing over us. That is how we will prevail. That is how I know none can stand against us.¡± He took a step forward and turned. Ambriel kept her back facing him. ¡°As to how I know we are right, tell me this, Ambriel. Has your position never led you to waver? Has the knowledge that, no matter how hard you try, someone will still stand over you, displaying their unearned might like a badge of honor, never caused you to doubt?¡±


    She was silent, and he continued.


    ¡°It is as I thought, but you are not alone. How many brothers and sisters of ours have felt this way, how many of them have fallen to the side of the enemy because of it? It is not right, and that is what we must change. In rising together and taking our rightful place at the Lord¡¯s side, we will prove this. In abolishing the old system, we can bring those lost back. Ambriel, you ask how I could know I am right, but I ask you: how could I not?¡±


    The water churned softly below, and Ambriel kicked her feet once again, watching them dangle over the dark. Setting her jaw, she clasped her hands together, speaking softly. ¡°I¡­I will help, to the extent that I can. What is it that I must do?¡±


    Her back was turned, and she didn¡¯t see Barachiel smile, his lips parting to reveal the small, perfectly set sections of bone beneath.


    ¡°All you must do is lend us your power,¡± he said, already walking away, sticking his hands in his pockets. ¡°When we require it, give us your hand, and your voice. That is all.¡±


    A moment later he was gone, disappearing in the soft shadow of the night. As soon as he had gone, she released her breath, still staring at the river below, wondering where it might lead.


    The night wore on, the thick clouds above parting to reveal the small pinpoints of light that covered the sky. Absentmindedly, Ambriel began to whistle, unlacing her fingers and laying her palms on the rough, cold stone of the bridge, tilting her head towards the fierce light of the stars, her eyes closed.


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    Author''s Note: What''s Barachiel up to? I hope you''ll stick around and find out!

 Volume 4 - Chapter 5

    White-hot sand engulfed my feet, rising up to my ankles, individual grains working their way into the crevices between my toes and sticking to my pale skin as I raised my feet for another step. Continuing down the beach, I imagined myself as a soldier marching through the muddy fields of a foreign country, balling my hands into fists and swinging my arms as I searched for a spot to settle in.


    My friends followed a few steps behind me, Asher and Miller shading their eyes and offering suggestions on where they thought we should sit, which I promptly ignored.


    Meanwhile, Ayame stepped carefully behind them, fighting the sand from claiming her loose sandals. Holding her bag of belongings in one hand while pressing down on the top of her hat with the other, protecting it from the seaborne breeze that sent her hair rolling across her shoulders, she looked all-too similar to a star of a commercial¨Cmaybe for a particularly fancy brand of perfume.


    In comparison to her movie star-level wardrobe, which drew glances from multiple strangers on the wide expanse of the beach, the rest of us were vastly under-dressed. Asher and Miller were dressed in nearly identical white t-shirts and plaid board shorts of similar color, in which the former became eerily reminiscent of a ghost on the white sand, while the latter put off a bit of an ¡°amateur surfer¡± vibe.


    My outfit¨Cswim-shorts and a matching top hidden under a tank-top¨Cwasn¡¯t particularly stand-out, either, but in the end I decided not to worry about it. Ayame had put in the effort of selecting a killer outfit, and she pulled it off, so I figured she had earned the recognition it garnered.


    Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of travelling aimlessly on the beach, looking for a spot in the sand that wasn¡¯t covered in either stones or people, I spotted it. It was maybe twenty yards away, nestled between a sunbathing family of five and an adorable elderly couple, and, from what I could tell, represented the perfect balance between even terrain and distance from the ocean.


    ¡°Found it!¡± I announced immediately, pointing in the direction of the empty space. ¡°Let¡¯s go, before someone else claims it.¡±


    Without another word, I set off, trudging through the soft sand and ignoring the unpleasant sensation it caused in gathering under my toenails. Asher, Miller, and Ayame followed behind, each at their own pace, attempting to avoid losing their sandals and belongings, stepping on other beach-goers, and the various other hazards associated with traversing the sandy terrain.


    While I did chuckle a bit at the difficulty that simply walking in such an environment seemed to cause them, I didn¡¯t stop, forging onwards until I reached our predestined location. Up close, it was even more perfect than it had seemed from a distance¨Cfar enough away from the waves to avoid the risk of getting yourself or your belongings wet, flat and almost completely devoid of stones and other sharp objects, and with a perfect view of the endless stretch of blue water in front of us.


    ¡°Looks good,¡± Miller said, reaching me a moment later. After setting down his bag, he took a look around the beach, hands on his hip. ¡°Nice eye, Cat.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± I said, giving him a slight bow. ¡°It¡¯s wonderful to hear that my valiant efforts are appreciated.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate you finding the spot, at least.¡± Asher¡¯s voice pulled me out of my servile stance, and I saw him and Ayame laying out towels for us to sit on. ¡°But, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m too grateful for you screaming and running across the beach. Do you know how many people are staring?¡±


    Checking out the immediate area I saw that, just as he said, my antics had drawn the attention of most of the surrounding beach-goers, who were side-eyeing me with various levels of both intrigue and suspicion. I shrugged¨CI was used to stares, after all.


    Turning my attention, I saw that Asher and Miller had both already settled down, spreading themselves out on the colorful beach towels Ayame had laid out next to each other on the sand. As she placed down the fourth and final vibrant stretch of color, she also sat down, joining the guys in their immediate acts of lethargy.


    That, of course, I couldn¡¯t allow.


    ¡°Woah, woah,¡± I said, holding my hands out in front of me. ¡°We just got here, and you¡¯re already laying down?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± Miller attempted to shield his eyes from the sun, hovering his forearm over his face, before giving up and rolling onto his stomach. His voice muffled by the soft material, he continued ¡°I¡¯m tired.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to sleep when you¡¯re dead,¡± I said, matter-of-factly (after all, it was a fact. ¡°We¡¯re here to have fun, and I don¡¯t see how we can do that if you¡¯re sleeping.¡±


    ¡°Mm.¡±


    His response was so noncommittal that it nearly threw me off of my game. Nearly. Luckily, however, I¡¯m always ready to spur someone into action.


    Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, I reached down to my side, where I had set my bag, and reached my hand in, making contact with cool, ridged plastic. Latching on, I pulled it out with a flourish, waving the frisbee in front of my chest.


    ¡°Come on, Miller¡­¡± I said. He didn¡¯t look up, instantly counteracting the allure of my gesture, but that was easily rectified with a swift toe-poke in the ribs. He looked up and, though he tried to hide it, I caught the flash of interest in his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to play some ultimate?¡±


    ¡°Y-you actually brought a frisbee?¡± he asked, trying and failing to feign disinterest. He rolled over, and pulled himself into a sitting position. ¡°You think we should play?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I have it,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°But, we don¡¯t have to play. It¡¯s only if you want to, Miller.¡±


    He gulped, and I knew that I had him. It took a second, but eventually he stood, stretching out his arms over his head and releasing a small sigh.


    ¡°Well, I guess it can¡¯t hurt to play a little.¡±


    He took a step and held out his hand, and I placed the disc in his grip, letting him toss it up and down as I looked towards Asher and Ayame. He had laid down at around the same time as Miller, already looking near sleep, while she sat and looked towards me and Miller.


    ¡°How about you two?¡± I asked, jerking my thumb towards the neon disc currently in the air above Miller. ¡°The more the merrier.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll play,¡± Ayame said, after a brief moment of deliberation. ¡°I haven¡¯t used a frisbee in years, so it should be kind of fun.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Asher?¡± Miller never looked away from his frisbee. I¡¯ve never quite understood his fascination with the sport, but I try not to question it¨Cit¡¯s never good to look a gift-horse in the mouth.


    ¡°Nah.¡± Asher¡¯s voice rolled like the waves, drawing out the single syllable. ¡°Anyway, someone has got to stay behind and watch the stuff. You guys go have fun. I¡¯ll be here.¡±


    While part of me wanted to argue against his reasoning, the thought of losing my phone and other personal belongings kept me from doing so. Instead, I nodded.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Fair enough. We¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    Ayame, seeming to take my words as a signal to follow us, took her hat off and jokingly placed it over Asher¡¯s face.


    ¡°Watch that for me, please.¡±


    His response was a brief thumbs up while keeping the hat in its position. Ayame stood and, with a smile, headed off with Miller and me .


    Originally, I had feared that we would have to wade through crowds upon crowds of people just to find an area to play in, but we ended up lucking out. As soon as we stood up and began walking, a group of college students only a few feet away finished up an intense game of hacky sac and made for the ocean, leaving just enough room for our game.


    Without a word, Miller and I stood opposite one another, motioning for Ayame to take her position at the head of the triangle. Since Asher had decided not to join us, we couldn¡¯t exactly play a game of ultimate, as I¡¯d hoped, but we could still manage a game of catch.


    ¡°Which direction do you want to go in?¡± Miller called out, his voice barely rising above the mutterings of vacationers coming in from all sides. ¡°Clockwise or counterclockwise?¡±


    ¡°Send it clockwise,¡± I said, slapping my fist into my palm. ¡°I¡¯ll take first catch.¡±


    He nodded and, without another word, sent the disc towards me with an explosive flick. The frisbee sailed, rotating quickly as it made its way straight towards my chest, never wavering. It reached me in moments, and I barely got my hand up in time to receive it, clasping my fingers around its hard plastic edge. I quickly reminded myself that Miller specialized in powerful forehand maneuvers, and to watch out for any trick throws, before passing a soft backhand pass to Ayame.


    She caught it with ease as expected, and easily flowed into a steady backhand of her own, sending the frisbee at Miller in a straight, solid line. From what I knew, Ayame had never played competitive frisbee, and I had initially written her off as the odd-man-out in our game, but her ease of movement led me to reassess the situation. No matter which side it was coming from, I would have to be on my guard.


    The back and forth continued for some time, gaining in intensity with each successive pass, Miller never ceasing in his attacks. In seemingly random patterns, he would switch from a powerful, almost unsteady backhand, before cycling back to his trademark flick, keeping me on my toes. Meanwhile, Ayame continued throwing backhands to Miller, displaying, if with a bit of a low power level, a deadly consistency in her technique.


    To be honest, from my position, I was in a lot of trouble of dropping the frisbee first¨Cand there was no way I was going to let that happen.


    So, on the next pass from Miller¨Ca curved forehand that nearly clipped the front of my thigh¨CI took the disc and held it in the air, shouting with as much force as I could muster: ¡°Switch directions!¡±


    Waiting a moment to make sure they had registered the change, which came in the form of a nod from each, I sunk into a low stance. As things were, Miller had the upper hand, and I decided that, now more than ever, I had to take that lead from him. Locking eyes with my adversary, I gripped the disc tightly, placing the thumb of my right hand on top.


    I gritted my teeth. At that moment, nothing else entered my mind but beating Miller, and to accomplish that, I knew what I had to do. What I had to use.


    The Hammer.


    The move was high risk, high reward, I¡¯ll admit, but it was the only way I could see myself getting an upper hand on my teammate turned enemy. So, abandoning any reservations I may have had, I raised the disc over my shoulder, and had just enough time to see the slight widening of Miller¡¯s eyes before I released it in one explosive downward movement.


    It soared beautifully, levelling out and spinning rapidly towards my friend, who stood rooted to the soft ground, ready to intercept the wild pass. He sunk down further, setting his shoulders and lifting his hands just as the frisbee reached him and¡­.soared straight past his shoulder.


    Straight past Miller, and right towards the old man lying on the other side of our stuff.


    I didn¡¯t realize where it was headed at first, instead kicking myself mentally over calibrating the trajectory of the toss incorrectly. Ultimately, it was Ayame who snapped me back to my senses, letting out a quick ¡°Oh!¡± and stepping forward, arms out, as if to call the disc backwards into her hands.


    As soon as I realized where it was headed, I knew it was too late. The disc was spinning madly on, covering the space between us and the elderly man in a moment, and nothing I could do would stop it. In the end, all there was to do was watch and pray he had strong teeth, or at least well-set dentures.


    Then, right before it made contact with the ill-fated gentleman¡¯s jaw, a hand appeared, as if from nowhere, intercepting the disc in mid-flight and lowering it to the ground. My eyes immediately travelled down with the neon orange of the frisbee to see who the man¡¯s (and my conscience¡¯s) savior was, and were met, to some surprise, with the image of Asher, lying on the ground with the frisbee held to his chest.


    Leave it to him to do something cool right when I¡¯m about to do something uncool, which, of course, only makes him seem even cooler by comparison. I should have figured. Plus, to make it worse, he hadn¡¯t even taken Ayame¡¯s hat from off of his face!


    For a while, all I could do was wonder how he even knew the frisbee was coming¨CI¡¯ll let you in on some of my theories later (hint: they involve a secret sixth sense that alerts old folk when another of their kind is in danger)¨Cbut it didn¡¯t last long, as Miller interrupted my train of thought a moment later.


    ¡°That one was on you, Cat!¡± he called, cupping his hands around his mouth as amplification in an odd display of cheer. ¡°You¡¯ve got to get the frisbee.¡±


    My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh. ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡±


    With a quick glance at Ayame, who still stood looking in the direction of Asher and the old man with a hand over her heart, as if she hadn¡¯t gotten over the scare, I trudged off, feet sinking in the hot sand, to retrieve the disc.


    That one was their win, I thought, before grinning slightly. But I¡¯ll definitely get the next one.


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


    Author''s Note: Come on, we all knew the beach episode was coming. I hope you enjoy, and trust me, the beach isn''t going to be all fun and games for the crew...

 Volume 4 - Chapter 6

    The bronze circle flew towards the sky, flipping over upon itself rapidly, catching and reflecting rays of light, before sinking back to earth and digging into the sand with a soft thud.


    ¡°Heads.¡± Miller announced, picking up the penny and placing it carefully on top of the nail of his left thumb. ¡°That¡¯s three in a row for me. You ready?¡±


    ¡°Hit it.¡± I replied immediately, at which Miller nodded and sent the coin tumbling back into the air. With a split-second¡¯s thought, I raced to get my pick before he could, calling out ¡°Tails.¡±


    He nodded once again, and the penny made its quick descent to the world of man, plummeting into the miniscule grains that made up the surface of the beach. With one deft movement, I reached forward, brushing the particles of sand off of its face and revealing my fate.


    ¡°Heads¡­¡± I muttered, looking down at the blazing profile of a former leader for a moment before falling on my back and staring at the sky.


    ¡°You¡¯ve really got bad luck today, Asher,¡± Miller commented, rubbing his chin and scrunching his eyebrows in a contemplative manner. ¡°That¡¯s four heads in a row.¡±


    ¡°The law of probability has disappeared from my life,¡± I said, trying not to think about where I had heard this conversation happen before. I twisted onto my side, letting the sun heat up my right ear.


    ¡°To be fair, it was your choice to pick tails four times,¡± Ayame said. I moved my gaze from a depression in the sand to see that she had propped herself up against her bag, and was now reading from a thick paperback, positioning the pages beneath the shade provided by her hat.


    I shrugged, digging my left shoulder into the sand. ¡°For some reason, I felt that my luck would change if I stuck to it. That was probably a mistake.¡±


    ¡°Still, four times¡­.¡± Miller mused, picking up the coin before striking it with his thumb and propelling it into the air once more. It landed in the center of his palm, and he grinned down at it. ¡°I take it you don¡¯t want to play any more?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m good,¡± I said, covering my eyes from the glare of the sun. ¡°I¡¯d rather not continue to play a losing game.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he replied, and moved to sit on the towel spread out on the sand to our left. Crossing his legs, he stared out to sea, where a spot of red could be seen floating, moving from left to right erratically among the dark blue water. ¡°Maybe we should go swimming, instead. I¡¯ll bet Cat would enjoy some company out there.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, propping myself up on my shoulders and turning towards the water just in time to see her disappear beneath the waves. ¡°It seems like she¡¯s having a pretty good time out there. Besides, I doubt we could keep up with her if we tried.¡±


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s true. Then, what else could we do?¡±


    He grabbed onto his ankles, leaning forward, and I raised my eyebrows. It isn¡¯t often that Miller tries so hard to get us to do something, so when he does, we all tend to take note.


    ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯re sounding an awful lot like Cat right now.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± he said quickly, shaking his head, seeming eager to prove the truth behind his statement. ¡°I just think that, while we¡¯re here, we should do something.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with relaxing,¡± Ayame said, flipping another page. ¡°Unless you¡¯re Cat, we all need time to rest.¡±


    Miller didn¡¯t miss a beat.


    ¡°Believe me, Ayame, I know. I spend practically all of my time taking it easy and relaxing. Maybe that¡¯s why I want to do something so much now, to make up for it.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply further, choosing instead to look at him and tilt her head as if saying ¡°Who knows?¡± As she turned to face her book, Miller and I faced each other.


    ¡°So, what do you think? Swimming?¡±


    He gestured to the water, and I thought about my options for a moment, the sun beating down on me and heating up my left side. Ultimately, however, the heat ending up making my decision for me, and I sat up.


    ¡°Yeah, we might as well. It will be colder, at least.¡± Miller stood up, and I joined him, turning towards Ayame. ¡°We¡¯ll be back in a little bit, alright?¡±


    ¡°Mm-hm,¡± she replied, still looking at her novel. ¡°Have fun.¡±


    Spinning around, Miller and I took off our shirts, setting them in his bag, before making our way down the sloped surface of the beach.Trudging through the hot sand, I looked down to watch my feet sink down and reappear, and I felt myself growing more anxious to feel the cool relief of the water.


    Somehow, I didn¡¯t notice the people until I almost ran into a tall, bronzed middle-aged man in a speedo. Luckily, I caught sight of his bony feet approaching mine, and I swerved, nearly crashing into Miller. Training my eyes toward the man, I quickly noticed that he wasn¡¯t alone¨Cdozens upon dozens of people were emerging from the water, a troup of dripping bodies travelling up the beach en masse.


    The man I had nearly collided with, rather than stop, continued on, shifting just far enough to the side to avoid encountering me again. Looking into his eyes in an attempt to figure out what he was doing, I was surprised to find that he wasn¡¯t even glancing in my direction, his pupils locked on something in the distance.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± At my side, Miller had also noticed the sudden migration of the swimmers, and was looking from person to person, regarding their heavy-lidded eyes. ¡°What are they looking at?¡±


    I shrugged, having no answer, and turned my attention to the thinning crowd around us, looking at each pair of eyes, focusing on their irises, all of which looked exceptionally dim, especially in the strong light of the sun. Whatever it was that was going on, it didn¡¯t seem good.


    Cat appeared about a minute later, at the back end of the flock. As she approached us, dripping wet, her damp hair sticking framing her face and sticking to her forehead, I glanced at her eyes, only to find that they were their normal shade of brown, glowing in the harsh light of midday.


    ¡°Yo,¡± she said as she approached us, lowering her hand from a wave. ¡°You guys have any idea what in the world is happening?¡±


    ¡°Not really, no,¡± Miller said, a little distractedly. The roaming swimmers were now behind us, staggering slowly up the beach, and we turned to continue watching them. ¡°Did anything go on out there?¡±


    ¡°Not that I can think of. I was just swimming, and suddenly everyone started moving towards the shore at once. I didn¡¯t really get it, but I followed them all back, just in case there was a shark or something.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that was it,¡± I said. ¡°This doesn¡¯t seem normal.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she agreed, shading her eyes and squinting at mob. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something going on, or th¨C¡±


    While Cat was speaking, the zoned-out beachgoers had continued their journey up the shore, but then, all at once, they sunk to their knees simultaneously, falling to their sides, forwards and backwards, onto the soft sand.


    ¡°Okay, yeah, definitely not normal,¡± Cat said, taking a step forward. Not saying any more, she walked up the beach, stopping at the nearest person, a middle-aged man with a wicked sunburn already forming.


    Kneeling down, she shook him on the shoulder, stray grains of sand falling from their position stuck to his chest as she rolled him to the side. His mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes remained closed, but after a few seconds of observation it was plain to see that the man was still breathing. If I hadn¡¯t known better, I would have thought he had simply laid down and decided to take a nap in the sun.


    ¡°I guess they¡¯re all asleep,¡± Cat said, returning to a standing position and brushing sand from her knees. ¡°Although ¡®knocked out¡¯ is probably a better word for it. This is really weird.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but agree with her¨Calthough I probably would have gone with a stronger word than ¡°weird.¡± Even among the other strange things that had happened to us in the past few months, the sudden exodus of dozens of people from the ocean was something I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around.


    What is going on?


    ¡°Guys, are you alright?¡± Ayame¡¯s voice suddenly broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see her rushing in our direction, bare feet sinking in the deep sand. She had left her hat behind, and her dark hair flew across her face. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± Miller responded, still glancing out to sea, as if expecting to see even more vacationers flooding onto the beach. ¡°We haven¡¯t figured out what¡¯s going on, though. What did you see on your end?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, really,¡± she said, her words interspersed with breaths heavy from her jog over to us. ¡°I was reading, and all of a sudden everyone on the beach was moving. Then they all just fell down.¡±


    ¡°What do you think it is?¡± Cat said, echoing her early question. Ayame gave her a small shrug.


    ¡°I have no idea,¡± she said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like anyone¡¯s really hurt, though. I checked the old couple next to me, and it seemed like they were still asleep.¡±


    I nodded, glancing around the now-silent beach. People of all different ages were spread out, lying on the sand in all kinds of uncomfortable looking positions, and it was seeming more and more likely that we were dealing with something supernatural again¨Cat the very least, I was finding it hard to think of what could have caused that many people to faint simultaneously.


    ¡°Whatever the reason is, I think we should call someone,¡± I said, finally, bringing my attention back to my friends. ¡°Even if they seem okay, we shouldn¡¯t risk it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Ayame said quickly, reaching instinctively to her side before, realizing that she didn¡¯t have pockets, bringing her hand to her shoulder and pointing backwards. ¡°I¡¯ll go get my phone.¡±


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    Without another word, she spun on her heels and began walking away from us quickly, eyes glued to the ground to avoid stepping on anyone laying in the sand. Once she had gone, Cat sat down on the ground with a huff.


    ¡°I wonder what the cops are going to think about this,¡± she said while absentmindedly brushing sand off of the tops of her feet. ¡°You think they¡¯ll take us in for questioning?¡±


    ¡°Most likely,¡± I responded, and sat down myself, staring out at the ocean.


    Without the countless bobbing heads and figures moving around in the water, it looked much larger, taking up most of my vision. The waves continued to roll in, foamy water crawling its way up the beach, disturbing the piles of surfboards, paddleboards, and even small boats that people had deposited on the beach in their trance.


    Somewhere nearby, I heard the quick sound of fluttering, and turned my gaze upwards just in time to catch a small group of seagulls rising into the air, carrying bits of dropped food in their beaks. I wondered briefly why they, like us, hadn¡¯t succumbed to the weird mob mentality that had overtaken all of the humans in the area, but gave up on it almost immediately, chalking it up to whatever force had been at play in all of our lives recently.


    The sun, still hanging high in the sky, shone its rays into my eyes and, not being a fan of the idea of early-onset cataracts, I lowered my line of sight to the ocean once more. The dark water continued to swirl, and I followed the patterns, drawing my eyes out towards the horizon, where the pale blue edge of the sky met with the straight line of the ocean.


    That was when my eyes caught something.


    At first, it was hard to make out¨Cstaring at the blank slate of the ocean for so long had done its number on my ability to focus on one area of it¨Cbut as I continued to follow the disturbance on the water, it soon shifted into focus.


    For a moment, I tried to convince myself that my eyes were playing tricks on me¨Cmy vision has never been perfect, and I easily could have been seeing things¨Cbut I quickly gave up. On the dark blue canvas of the sea, there was no mistaking it. I was looking at a giant, moving head.


    Of course, it probably wasn¡¯t only a head, but that was all I could see, bobbing its way through the waves, getting closer to the beach with each passing second.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Cat asked, drawing my attention from the water. She was staring out to sea, her fingers closed around her eyes, forming makeshift binoculars. ¡°A whale? Or maybe Nessie¡¯s long-lost-sibling?¡±


    ¡°Your second guess is probably closer, honestly.¡±


    Miller took a few steps forward, squinting his eyes to try and get a clearer picture. Glancing back out to the water myself, I had to agree with him. Even from the beach, the creature looked nothing like a whale¨Cits head, a narrow, malformed rectangle the color of tar, couldn¡¯t have belonged to any type of sea animal I could think of, and I wondered what exactly we were dealing with.


    ¡°Huh, if that¡¯s the case, then I think I¡¯m going to call it Nestor.¡±


    While I questioned her choice of name, I didn¡¯t comment, preferring to keep an eye on the approaching creature. It seemed to be moving relatively quickly, growing in size as it neared the beach, and I began to notice an increase in the swirling of waves around its hulking head. In fact, when I glanced down at the white sand in front of me, I saw that the water was crawling much faster and farther up the beach, nearly reaching my toes.


    And that was when it started raining.


    The storm came practically out of nowhere, starting out as a slow drizzle and picking up force as the minutes passed. Staring at the sky for a few moments, I followed the incoming wall of dark clouds as they sped across the sky, trying to figure out how a guy could look down for a minute and miss the formation of a massive storm.


    At some point while we were alternating between following the creature and stealing glances at the darkening sky, Ayame came back, staring out at the ocean with wide eyes. Sitting down next to us, her eyes never leaving the dark stretch of water, she pointed backwards.


    ¡°I¡­..I called the police,¡± she said. It seemed like she was finding it hard to focus, the droplets of rain buffeting her face and the mysterious creature taking up most of her concentration. ¡°They¡¯re on their way.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like they¡¯ll make it in time,¡± Cat responded, not looking in Ayame¡¯s direction. I glanced at her quizzically, and she stood up, stretching her arms out and cracking her knuckles. ¡°That thing¡¯s getting bigger every second, and so are the waves. If it gets to the shore, something bad is going to happen.¡±


    She didn¡¯t say another word, and we all fell silent¨CI have a feeling that, by that point, we¡¯d all kind of gathered the importance of the situation, but hearing Cat lay it all out so bluntly really drove it home.


    ¡°Even if that¡¯s true, what do you think we should do about it?¡± Miller asked. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what that thing is, let alone what we could do to stop it.¡±


    ¡°We should go out there and try,¡± Cat said simply. ¡°We might not know how, but if we wait around and do nothing, it¡¯s definitely gonna make it here. With how many people there are here, there¡¯s no way we can protect all of them if that happens. The only solution is to go to it, before it comes to us.¡±


    With that, she crossed her arms, and turned to look in our direction. From the look on her face, I knew that it wasn¡¯t going to be easy to argue with her on this one, but I figured I had to give it a shot.


    ¡°You have a lot of outrageous ideas,¡± I said, pushing myself into a standing position, ¡±but this is one of the worst. How do you plan to fight that thing on the water?¡±


    ¡°We have the swords.¡± She shrugged. ¡°And plenty of boats washed up when the people came onto the beach. We can get out there no problem.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that we can,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s what you want us to do out there that I¡¯m worried about. We don¡¯t even know what that thing is, but you want us to head out into the ocean and fight it?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t think of many other options for us,¡± she said, raising her voice to be heard over the intensifying rain. ¡°I¡¯m gonna bet that this thing is like the others, and is probably going to attack us either way. At least out there it won¡¯t hurt anyone else. Besides, it¡¯s not like this is our first rodeo.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re acting like we¡¯re experts,¡± I responded. Glancing out to sea, I noticed the dark head inching closer. ¡°But really we have no idea how to deal with this.¡±


    ¡°I think so, too,¡± Ayame said. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous to go on the water in a storm in the first place, let alone with that thing out there.¡±


    ¡°And anyway, there¡¯s always the chance it won¡¯t come onto the beach in the first place,¡± Miller broke in, apparently deciding it was time to voice his opinion. ¡°I think we should wait and see before doing anything.¡±


    ¡°That seems unlikely, with our history.¡±


    Cat stood with her arms crossed and regarded each of us in turn, droplets of rain rolling down her face. We remained silent¨Ceach of us having taken our stance¨Cas her eyes moved from one to the other, until she blinked, and raised her gaze to the clouds.


    ¡°Listen, I get what you¡¯re all saying,¡± she said, ¡°but I still have to go. There¡¯s a chance that people could get hurt, and as long as I can do something to try and stop that, I don¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    And then she was off, blasting towards the shoreline, jumping into the nearest abandoned rental boat, heading towards the waves and the dark crown of the creature. Truthfully, I¡¯m not sure how she got away from us so quickly¨Cit seemed that she was here and then gone, without any of us being able to so much as attempt to stop her.


    For a second, I stood there in silence. The rain continued to fall, picking up force with every passing moment, washing the dry clumps of sand from the tops of my feet, slipping into the soft ground and sliding into the ocean with a soft hiss. Foamy water continued to make its way up the beach¨Cit was nearly at our feet now, and soon it would gain on the people behind us. Out in the dark water, the slender head of an unknown creature sat, moving steadily closer.


    Simply put: if things continued as they were things could get very bad, very quickly.


    But Cat was out there, fighting that possibility.


    Alone.


    Truth be told, there was a large part of my mind that, knowing what I was about to do, actively fought against it, trying to anchor me to the beach. Still, that small part that told me what I should¨Cor rather had¨Cto do somehow succeeded in its mutiny, and pushed me forwards.


    It took me longer to come to a decision than it did Cat. I was nowhere near as secure in my conviction as she had been. In the end, I couldn¡¯t even muster up enough confidence to promise Ayame and Miller that I would be back.


    But even so, I ran. Feet pounding on the cold surface of the beach, I flew as fast as I could in the direction she had just gone, towards the sea. Within a few moments, I felt the cold splash of water on my ankles, salt filling my nose as the water rose towards my waist. It was hard to see with the rain falling in my face, but I thought I caught a hint of red and, heart pounding, I dove into the water.


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    Author''s Note: Finally building up to the climax of Volume 4. I hope you all enjoy, and remember to tell me what you think!

 Volume 4 - Chapter 7

    I knew it was a bad idea the second I hit the water. While it¡¯s one thing to look at the ocean, waves rising from underneath the blanket of water and rolling slowly towards shore, it¡¯s an entirely different experience to actually be in it. Actually being in the water, all of your expectations are shattered¨Cwhat might look like a small wave on the surface can instantly turn into a swell beneath, pushing you around like a leaf on a stream.


    Add that to the fact that I¡¯m not the strongest swimmer to begin with, and you can probably guess that I was having a pretty bad time.


    Even so, I kept going, digging my hands into the water and propelling myself forward. It was hard to see¨Cwhen swirls of salty ocean water weren¡¯t being thrust into my eyes by the waves, heavy droplets of warm rain handled the job nicely. Although every once in awhile I got a clear view of what was in front of me (mostly water), I was pretty much just hoping that I was headed towards Cat, rather than out into the empty sea.


    The swim lasted for quite a while, and I quickly turned my attention from where I was going to how I was going to get there. While most of my energy was devoted to pushing myself forward in the turbulent water, what little I had left was spent in raising my head above the waves, choking out gulps of salt water and taking quick inhalations of breath.


    It wasn¡¯t very fun, and nearly every moment was a reminder of how dangerous this entire situation was, but still I pressed on. Besides, what choice did I really have? Cat was out on the water somewhere, along with a weird sea-monster that was probably set on attacking us from the start.


    And she had the boat.


    So I kept swimming, and eventually my water-logged eyes caught sight of a boat somewhere in front of me, a pair of arms stretching their way in my direction. As quickly as I could, I raised my own, grasping with slippery fingers at the hands in front of me, and found myself being pulled up by a surprisingly strong grip and seated on a hard surface.


    Finally out of the water, I spent some time choking out mouthfuls of salt water, attempting to catch my breath while simultaneously keeping the buckets of water dripping down my face from entering my lungs and starting the whole process over.


    I was soaked¨Cmy shorts clung to my body while my bangs hung in my face, coming to rest directly over my eyes where they deposited their vast stores of water. Shivering slightly, I brought my wrist up and tried to rub the water out, but that proved ineffective, as it was about as wet as every other part of me. In the end, I was forced to simply blink until the rain washed out the remaining salt.


    Then, finally, I looked forward.


    Cat was the first thing I saw, her knotted hair pressed down by the rain in clumps over her forehead and ears. She was smiling, trails of water making their way to her chin and falling to the boat.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you swam all the way out here,¡± she said excitedly. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Good question,¡± I said. It was tough to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but in the end I decided I¡¯d earned it, and let it go. ¡°Following you. For some reason, I decided it was better for both of us to get killed, rather than just one.¡±


    Her face dropped a little, but she didn¡¯t seem all that bothered by my response. Glancing down at the waves, she fiddled around with the plastic oar handle in her lap, running it in a circle around the metal ring that kept it attached to the boat.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to get killed,¡± she said, resuming her rowing towards the creature. I wondered briefly why she hadn¡¯t at least picked up a motor boat, but decided it was too late to worry about details. ¡°We¡¯ve beaten everything else so far.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but a few zombies and a ghost don¡¯t really equal a giant sea-monster,¡± I said. ¡°Even if we can summon one of the swords, how are we going to use them against that thing?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that it¡¯s giant.¡± She continued rowing, glancing backwards at the head of the creature. It was drifting closer to us¨Cit couldn¡¯t be more than a soccer field¡¯s length away. ¡°And besides, it¡¯s a little late for you to argue how stupid this is. We¡¯re already here, so how about you take a turn rowing?¡±


    Our seats were hardly a foot away from each other and, shifting her knees to the side, all Cat had to do was thrust the handles forward a few inches to get them to my hands. A little miffed, mostly at the fact that her words were completely valid, I gripped them tightly with slightly shaking hands, and began to push forward in the water.


    Cat and I exchanged few words¨Cthere didn¡¯t seem to be much to say¨Cas we approached the dark spot, now the size of a small sedan. We drifted forward as quickly as I could manage, and within a few moments we neared the creature.


    That¡¯s about when the fear kicked in.


    Of course, I should note that this isn¡¯t the first time I had felt any fear since Cat had run towards the boat¨Cactually, that was probably about the only thing I had felt¨Cbut this was the first time it had actually felt real. By now, we were close enough to see the glistening skin of the creature as its head rose from and sunk into the water. At one point, I could have even sworn I caught a glimpse of jagged teeth.


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    Waves crashed against the side of the boat, spilling into the bottom and nearly covering my feet, and I finally quit rowing, as we were now close enough to see into the muddy-colored eyes of the beast. It continued toward us at the same steady speed as earlier, and before I realized it I was cracking my knuckles, biting into my shivering lips hard enough to draw blood.


    The rain fell fast, disturbing the water so that I couldn¡¯t see anything beneath the surface, which I believed was probably a good thing. Just the sight of the monstrous head was enough to to send my hands shaking, and I could only imagine what kind of reaction I would have to seeing the entirety of the creature. I glanced at Cat who, although holding a grim expression on her face, didn¡¯t seem to be feeling any real fear¨Cor, at the very least, she didn¡¯t show it.


    For a moment, I glanced back at the beach. The distance, combined with the swell of rain coming down and waves crashing at the side of the boat, made it difficult to make out aside from a large swath of white and gray. I couldn¡¯t see Miller or Ayame, which I hoped meant they had gotten somewhere safe.


    By the time my eyes made it back to the creature, it was nearly on us. To my right, Cat held out her right arm, and glanced sideways at me.


    ¡°Get your sword ready!¡± she shouted, before looking straight ahead, her mouth set in a straight line. Then, she spread her fingers out, and I watched in amazement as a sword¨Cthe same one she had used the last time¨Cappeared out of nowhere, settling into her hand. Gripping the hilt tightly with both hands, Cat held the dark, ridged blade in front of her, ready to strike.


    My heart began to beat faster. While I was surprised at the ease which with she had summoned the sword, it didn¡¯t do much to quell the sense of dread building up inside of me¨Cif anything, the presence of an actual weapon only made it worse.


    And besides, I still had no idea how we were supposed to fight a sea monster with a sword.


    But, Cat had her sword, and the creature was going to be on us at any second. I had to do something. In the time since we had summoned the swords for the first time, we had only been able to do it in absolutely dire circumstances. All things considered, this situation seemed pretty dire, and I decided I would have to try to summon my sword as well.


    I closed my eyes, in part to concentrate, but also to keep the raindrops from flooding my vision. I took a deep breath, and tried to think of the sword¨Cits white blade, its weight as I closed my fingers around the hilt, the soft light the seemed to follow it as it moved. Knowing that I had no more than a few seconds to finish the task, I poured all of my energy into forming the image, trying to will it into existence.


    By this point, I could practically see the sword, could almost feel it in my hand. But, just as quickly as I had imagined the sword, it disappeared. Then, suddenly, the image in my mind shifted, moving up from the sword and facing in front of me¨Cdirectly at the creature.


    My eyes were still closed, and yet for some reason I watched, awestruck, as the creature finally rose above the water, a serpentine monster towering over Cat and me, opening its mouth and releasing a shrill howl. Around us, the sea boiled, and we could do nothing but stare in horror as it slammed downwards, crashing into the top of our boat with all of its girth, sending us tumbling into the water.


    I opened my eyes. My chest burned, my heart near bursting as it pounded against my ribcage, and I found it difficult to take a breath. I glanced at my hands to find them empty, before hastily looking in front of me. Cat stood, as before, ready to strike, the creature mere meters in front of her. It came towards us, slowly, and began to shift¡­.


    There was no time to think. I moved as quickly as I could, feet sloshing through the accumulating water at the bottom of the boat. I grasped Cat¡¯s shoulder, shouting as loudly as I could.


    ¡°We have to jump!¡±


    She looked confused, and opened her mouth as if to reply, but I knew that there was no time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark outline of the creature rising from the swirling water. We had to get out of the boat.


    The sound of crashing water roared in my ears, the rain continued to fall, and above it all rang the shriek of the creature, towering above us like a skyscraper. The creature came down and, holding onto Cat¡¯s arm with as much strength as I could muster, I pulled us both over the side of the boat, and into the water below.


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    Author''s Note: Next Chapter will finish off Volume 4, be sure to let me know what you thinks with a comment or a rating!

 Volume 4 - Chapter 8

    Saying that Asher randomly grabbing me by the arm and pulling me out of our boat surprised me would definitely be an understatement. One minute, I¡¯m standing in front of Nestor, looking cool with my sword held up and ready to fight, and the next I¡¯m dragged into the ocean.


    And you think you know a guy.


    The water wasn¡¯t as cold as I expected it to be, feeling more like a swimming pool in the summer than anything. In the distance, a muted crash rang out, and a moment later I felt it, a shock wave spreading out, tiny bubbles tickling my skin. I wondered what was going on above the surface.


    Luckily, I was able to get over the surprise of being thrown into the water pretty quickly, and rose with a few slow kicks through the water. The sword in my hand made it a little hard to tread water, but I was able to manage, holding it in front of me and letting my free arm handle the rest.


    Asher surfaced a moment after me, his hair weighed down by the water, covering his eyes. Pushing the locks out of his face, he glanced around like a lost little lamb until he found me, and I raised my eyebrows.


    ¡°What was that about?¡±


    He didn¡¯t respond, instead pointing in front of us. Training my eyes in that direction, I took in the grim scene laid out in front of me.


    Where our boat had been only a moment earlier was a mess of debris, foam-covered sheets of plastic with ragged edges bobbing in time with the waves. The sound of rain pattering on their surface joined in with the rush of the droplets hitting the water, and I had to raise my voice even more to be heard.


    ¡°Asher!¡± He turned to face me once again at the sound, head shifting slowly up and down as he focused on staying above the waves. ¡°Where¡¯s Nestor?¡±


    It hadn¡¯t hit me at first, but after looking at the remains of the boat for a second time I was met with the realization that Nestor hadn¡¯t resurfaced with us. Asher looked towards the site of our borrowed vessel¡¯s destruction as well, before glancing at the dark water around us.


    ¡°Underneath us,¡± he said, trying to match my volume. Without another word, he began paddling towards me with long strokes, most likely wishing to avoid the business of having to yell and scream to hold a conversation.


    ¡°I know that,¡± I said as he got closer, doing my best to drift towards him while still keeping hold of the sword. ¡°What I mean is where underneath us do you think he is? We can¡¯t exactly fight him if we don¡¯t know wh¨C¡±


    I wasn¡¯t able to finish my sentence, as it was at that moment that I sensed him.


    You know that feeling you get when you¡¯re swimming in a lake or a pond, and you¡¯re so worried about a fish sliding it¡¯s cold, slimy scales across your leg that you start to feel like it¡¯s happening even when you know it¡¯s not? Magnify that by about four hundred times and you have a pretty accurate representation of what I was feeling at that moment.


    Well, an almost accurate representation, at least, because unlike a lot of antsy beach-goers, I knew the fish was right beside me, beneath the waves.


    And he was a big one.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Asher asked quickly after I cut off. He didn¡¯t seem to get the same feeling. ¡°Do you see it?¡±


    ¡°No, but he¡¯s somewhere near us. I can feel it.¡±


    Asher didn¡¯t respond at first, instead pulling himself even closer to me, until we were side by side in the churning water. His face soaked, he blinked water out of his eyes as he looked at me.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to stay here. It should come to us, with how it attacked the boat. If you feel it coming try to stab it before it can do any real damage. I¡¯ll try to get my sword before it comes.¡±


    He said nearly all of it in one breath, trying to keep his thoughts short, but the message was clear¨Che was taking charge for the time being. I decided it would be best to listen to him.


    ¡°Okay. Do you think that swords will do anything?¡±


    He shook his head, flinging rain droplets into the sea. ¡°No idea, but it¡¯s our best bet. Now let¡¯s just hope this thing doesn¡¯t have teeth.¡±


    We fell silent again, and I continued to stare down at the water, wishing I was able to see into its depths. For the first time since taking the boat, I had time to think about what was actually going on.


    I didn¡¯t regret what I had done¨CI know it was the right decision¨Cbut that didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t nervous about the outcome. Looking down at the churning water, not knowing when or how Nestor was going to attack, I found myself worrying about whether or not we could handle it, and my breathing picked up, just slightly.


    Trying to calm myself, I once again glanced at Asher. Rain was still crashing down around us, and we still had to keep ourselves afloat while worrying about an attack from beneath, but despite all that he looked almost calm.


    Of course, I knew Asher, and if I had to bet under that calm exterior he was completely freaking out, but the pure fact that he looked composed helped me to concentrate. Taking a deep breath, I gripped my sword more tightly, and scanned the water, hoping to catch sight of the serpent as it approached.


    Minutes passed, and still nothing happened. After a time, the rhythm of the rain hitting the surface of the water faded into the background, and I could hear nothing but my own breath, ragged with the exertion of keeping myself above water. My focus, although I tried my best to keep it on scouting out Nestor, drifted, and I found myself wondering if we should head back to shore.


    But I knew that wasn¡¯t even a question, and pushed the thought away as quickly as it could form. We had to stop the monster here, away from the beach. We couldn¡¯t even give it the option of reaching all of those people.


    As it turns out, that was a good moment to strengthen my resolve, because about a second later Asher opened his eyes.


    ¡°Move,¡± he said, not wasting any time. As he grabbed my arm and began paddling backwards quickly, I noticed that his eyes were wide. ¡®We have to move.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, following his lead. I feared I already knew the answer.


    ¡°It¡¯s coming up.¡±


    I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure but, remembering how he had predicted the boat getting destroyed, I decided to listen now and ask questions later.


    About three seconds later, I was glad I did. It came out of nowhere, erupting from the water, its upper half rising into the air like a cartoon snake out of a vase.


    As soon as it surfaced, I began to drift, pushed back by the water disturbed as Nestor broke out from the depths. Although it was tempting to look at the giant head now at least ten feet above the surface, to lock eyes with the beady, clouded eyes on either side, I instead focused my attention on staying afloat.


    The water up until this point had been lukewarm at best, but something about the monster surfacing must have changed that, raising the temperature of the water from a pool in summer to about what you would expect from a hot tub. I wondered what would happen if we stayed near him for much longer.


    Miraculously, Asher hadn¡¯t lost his grip on my arm, and we still floated together, maybe twenty feet away from Nestor. Once we had both collected ourselves from the sudden shock, I thought of speaking, but decided better of it. His lips were pale, his expression grim as he pointed a finger at the serpent.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna come down,¡± he said. It was hard to hear him above the storm. ¡°What should we do?¡±


    I thought for a moment, but came up with nothing¨Cfrom what I could see, there wasn¡¯t much we could do but distract it and try to get a lucky hit. I gave him my best attempt at a shrug.


    He looked ready to respond, but Nestor didn¡¯t give him the chance. His muddy brown scales gleamed, reflecting light from who knows where, and he began to descend, his monstrous head coming straight towards us as he went for the world record for most impressive bellyflop.


    As quickly as I could, I held up my sword, but I knew immediately that it wouldn¡¯t help¨Cmy grip was shaky, my wrist weak, and the fact that we were in water forced my to hold it at an odd angle. At best I would give him a little scrape, maybe shave off a scale or two. There was no way I could do enough to stop him.


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    I knew that. Of course I knew that. But what other choice did I have?


    He hit the water a second later. It happened fast enough that I didn¡¯t really feel the collision¨Cone second I was above the water, trying to prepare for the impact of the hulking midsection of a serpentine monster, and the next I was under, all of my breath knocked from my lungs, swirling beneath the waves.


    The sword was gone, thrown from my loose grip the second it made contact with the monster. I couldn¡¯t tell which way was up, my lungs burned, I tried dragging my arms through the water in a vain attempt to right myself, but found that they wouldn¡¯t cooperate.


    Where is Asher?


    To my surprise, I found that my eyes were open, as blurry patches of light and shadow began to fill my vision. In the distance, one of the larger spots of darkness began to move, sliding through the rough current, coiling and uncoiling as it drifted farther away from me. I hoped against hope that it wasn¡¯t heading towards the beach, reaching towards it, forcing my arm to move.


    It was no use. It slipped away from me, and I floated beneath the surface, the last bubbles of air escaping from my lips. As my eyes drifted closed, I stared forwards, tiny spots of light dancing in my vision, and I wondered if I was staring at the surface or the depths.


    But, strangely, the hazy, patchwork collection of light and shadow wasn¡¯t all that I saw in the water. There was something else. For a moment, right as my eyes closed, I could have sworn I saw someone.


    * * *


    When I came to it was dark, and for a terrifying second I thought I was still in the water. Not thinking, I tried desperately to rise upwards, thrusting my arms outwards and spreading my fingers. To my surprise, however, I was met with the feeling of damp sand beneath my fingers, lodging itself under my nails and coating my hands.


    With a struggle, I forced my eyes open, and found that I was lying facedown on the beach. Pushing myself up with shaky hands, I spit sand out of my mouth and glanced around.


    Though it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to my environment (they still felt full of water), I noticed Asher almost immediately. He was about twenty feet away from me, and I crawled over to him as quickly as I could, grabbing hold of his shoulder and shaking vigorously.


    ¡°Asher, wake up!¡± I yelled, fingernails digging into his skin. His hair was disheveled, bangs covering his eyes, but after a few moments I noticed that they began to open. I shook harder. ¡°Asher!¡±


    Rather than respond, he simply groaned, rolling onto his side and bringing a hand to his forehead. After a brief coughing fit, he forced himself into a sitting position, and looked at me with half-closed eyes.


    ¡°Cat?¡± His voice was quiet and hoarse, like he was just recovering from a month-long cold. ¡°What happened? Did we stop it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I just woke up.¡±


    He nodded, and began to look around, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun shining through a sudden break in the dark clouds. It wasn¡¯t raining anymore, and I tried to figure out how much time had passed by the position of the sun, but quickly gave up, instead taking a look around.


    We had washed up somewhere further down the beach, and I couldn¡¯t see any people around who were actually on the beach, although I did catch a few stepping out from some of the buildings scattered near the shore, probably appreciating the change in weather. In the distance, I caught the bright reds, blues and yellows of beach umbrellas, and pointed them out to Asher.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s where we were,¡± I said, standing up. My legs were still a little wobbly, but I felt they were strong enough to move. ¡°Let¡¯s head over there and look for Miller and Ayame.¡±


    Asher didn¡¯t respond, but stood up and began to walk forward, which gave me a good idea of how he felt on the matter. Taking a quick breath, I stretched my arms and bent my legs to loosen my joints and rushed to catch up.


    It wasn¡¯t long before we saw them¨CAsher and I couldn¡¯t have been walking for more than three minutes when I caught their silhouettes rushing towards us, moving as quickly as they could without tripping on the hills and valleys carved into the sand. I began to smile as soon as I realized who they were, and found that I was still smiling when they reached us.


    Ayame got there first and, rather than slow down from her dash, she kept it going, holding her arms out and crashing into Asher with a hug. I thought she might stop it there and come for me second but, full of surprises as ever, she was actually able to stretch her arm out and pull me in too. Although Asher and I nearly fell backwards from the impact, I planted my feet in the sand and kept us anchored there, caught in Ayame¡¯s embrace.


    ¡®You¡¯re both idiots,¡± she said. Her voice was shaky. ¡®You¡¯re so stupid.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t think of any way to respond, and honestly, I don¡¯t think I needed to.


    Miller came up a few seconds later, walking briskly towards our little jumble. While Ayame had surprised me with her double-hug, I was downright astounded when Miller actually joined in, silently wrapping his arms around us.


    We stayed like that for a few moments, until we finally pulled apart, Miller and Ayame standing there, facing Asher and I. As soon as the sentimental reunion was over, Asher jumped right in.


    ¡°What happened to the sea monster?¡± he asked, looking out to the ocean. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like it came to the beach, but Cat and I weren¡¯t able to stop it out there. Where did it go?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± Miller responded immediately. He had probably expected the question. ¡°We were watching you the whole time, as best as we could, and we saw it start coming towards the beach. But that was it¨Cit only started, and then turned around and headed out into the ocean again, the same way it came.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I said, trying to wrap my mind around his words. ¡®You¡¯re saying it just disappeared? Like, it just up and left?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t understand it, either,¡± Ayame said, still standing close to the two of us, like she might grab onto us again just to make sure we were still there. ¡°It was definitely planning on coming to shore, but it looked like something changed it¡¯s mind. The storm stopped as soon as it left, too, so I think it¡¯s safe to say it¡¯s gone.¡±


    None of us said anything at first¨Cand really, who could blame us? After you risk your life stupidly engaging a sea monster on its own turf, it¡¯s a bit anticlimactic to hear that it just left. We had even called the police, for crying out loud!


    All in all I was a little peeved at Nestor, and tried to figure out why he had put us through all of that and how we were going to deal with all of the aftereffects, before Asher let out a relieved sigh, interrupting my thoughts.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s settled,¡± he said, smiling tiredly. ¡°I¡¯m never going to complain about a deus ex machina again. Never.¡±


    Ayame laughed first, and although I didn¡¯t 100% get the joke¨CI think ¡°deus ex machina¡± has something to do with movies, right?¨Cit was hard not to laugh along with her. In no time at all, we were all joining in, laughing not really at Asher¡¯s joke but in pure relief from the whole situation being over with.


    Sure, maybe Nestor had disappeared without a trace, and maybe we¡¯d have to explain to the police why an entire section of the beach had suddenly passed out simultaneously, but at least we were all alive, and all together. Despite it all, everything was okay.


    And so we stood there, giggling among ourselves, none of us noticing the figure strolling by, whistling an old show tune while staring up at the sky, shielding their eyes from the sun.


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    Author''s Note: Here we are, at the finale of Volume 4! What do you think of this chapter, and of the story as a whole? Where do you think the story is going? Let me know, and thanks for reading!

 Volume 5 - Chapter 1

    The sky was dark when he awoke, and he sat up quickly, knowing it would soon be time to start the day. As he sat, waiting for his head to stop spinning from the sudden movement, he brought a hand to his chest.


    It still ached, still felt as if someone had taken a block of carved stone and set it on top of his lungs, but he believed the discomfort had lessened from the previous day. He was not better, he knew, but if he moved around and loosened up, the pain would surely be bearable.


    He forced himself to rise, pounding his fists on his thighs to keep them from shaking, and moved from his corner to the center of the room. Picking up a pail by its well-worn handle, he drank deeply, before filling his pouch with the warm water for later in the day.


    Before long, his thoughts drifted to the work he needed to complete, and he wondered if maybe he could finish before dark, as then he would be able to work on mending the stable door. He pulled his tunic on over his head, coughing lightly from the quick movement.


    When he opened his eyes after the small fit, he saw his sister standing in front of him.


    ¡°You¡¯re leaving,¡± she said. A statement. ¡°Why are you leaving?¡±


    The boy looked down at his sister, her black hair sticking out from her head at odd angles as she stared at him with vibrant brown eyes. He tried to smooth out her hair briefly, before giving up with a sigh.


    ¡°You know why,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s still sick, and there¡¯s still work to be done.¡±


    Nodding his head to the side, they both glanced at where their father lay at the edge of the room, his brow creased as he slept, his face beaded with sweat. He had been ill for nearly a month, and though the boy had done what he could to help him recover, the old healer had told him that it was up to his father¡¯s body to get him better now.


    So the boy let his father fight his own battle, and turned his attention towards making sure there would be food there for him when he won.


    His sister, however, did not seem to like that decision.


    ¡°You¡¯re sick too!¡± she cried, pointing at his hand, where a spot of blood was beginning to dry.


    The boy brought his hand to his side and shook his head.


    ¡°Not as sick as papa.¡±


    Without another word he stood, grabbing his pouch and doing his best not to trip as he approached the doorway. After he grabbed his hat, he turned, not surprised to find his sister standing in the doorway.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you,¡± she said, pointing her chin upwards in defiance. ¡°You need help out there.¡±


    The boy put on his hat and kneeled down. He was smiling.


    ¡°Papa needs help, too.¡± His sister looked ready to argue, but he held up a finger and continued before she could. ¡°I¡¯m only going to be plowing today, okay? Only the little field, even, not any of the big ones. The oxen will be doing most of the work, so I¡¯ll be okay. Just stay here and take care of him, and I¡¯ll be home soon. Can you do that for me?¡±


    For a moment she didn¡¯t respond, thinking, but soon enough she nodded, her shoulders slumped.


    ¡°Only the little field, though,¡± she warned, adjusting his hat. ¡°And come home in time to eat. You promise?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± the boy said, trying to fix her hair and, once again, abandoning the effort.


    He stood and, fighting off a wave of nausea, stepped through the doorway, looking up.


    The sun was rising.


    He tried to make it back home, he really did, but after working until the sun sat high in the sky, ignoring the pain swelling in his chest and continuing to push, he found he couldn¡¯t.


    Instead, he now found himself kneeling on the ground, fingers digging into dry soil. He clutched his chest, gritted his teeth as he tried to force the fire out of his lungs, but it wouldn¡¯t leave.


    Dropping his hand from his chest to his side, the boy reached for the small pouch hanging from his belt, opened it, held it to his lips.


    Empty.


    He sunk down, kicking up dust as he rolled onto his back. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he tried to breathe.


    He couldn¡¯t.


    The burning continued, and the boy clutched at the earth, trying to bring himself up, wondering what he would do if he couldn¡¯t. His papa and his sister were waiting for him. He needed to find a way to get home.


    But his strength had left him now, every ounce disappearing with his breath. He closed his eyes.


    He was tired, and as he drifted into darkness he found himself picturing their faces, hearing them laugh. Finally, after an eternity, he sunk into the depths.


    He hoped they were okay.


    He woke up¨Cthat was the most surprising part. He was awake. Somehow, everything that came after was secondary to that simple fact.


    He looked around, and found himself in a landscape brighter than any he had ever encountered. In his vision colors swarmed, patches of light shimmering, swirling through his surroundings, melding together until they were so radiant he could no longer bring himself to look at them.


    Where was he?


    Somebody was standing in front of him now, as if his question had brought about their appearance. He was a short old man, bald but for a few patches of gray hair clinging to the top of his head, his deep brown skin standing out against his un-earthly surroundings.


    Amazingly, he shone brighter than anything around him, an astounding golden light emanating from his core. The boy found that to look at the man for more than a few moments he had to focus on his eyes, dark flecks of obsidian.


    ¡°Finally awake, are you?¡± His eyes curved up at the edges. ¡°Took your time.¡±


    He fell silent, smiling, waiting for a response. After a moment, the boy was able to find his voice, drawing words from deep in his chest and forcing them to the surface.


    ¡°Where am I?¡±


    Almost immediately, the man began to laugh, a slight, raspy sound, opening his mouth wide to reveal uneven teeth. Clutching at the ends of his cloak with one hand, he kneeled forward and held out the other. The boy accepted his help, and rose to his feet.


    ¡°That¡¯s the question, isn¡¯t it?¡± He wiped his eyes and looked up at the boy, mouth still open. ¡°We¡¯re in the world after, least that¡¯s what I think of it as. Haven¡¯t gotten much of an explanation from anyone, long as I¡¯ve been here, but you pick things up as you go. Hope it¡¯ll be easier for you, since I¡¯m here to tell you what to do.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°¡®The world after?¡¯¡± The boy looked around once again, taking in the array of color and light surrounding him on all sides. He brought a hand to his chest¨Cthere was no pain. ¡°I¡¯ve died, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you have,¡± the old man said with a small smile. ¡°That¡¯s good, though, you recognized the change quick. Not all who come here are like that.¡±


    ¡°My sister,¡± the boy began, taking a step towards the man. He had stopped listening halfway through, his eyes widening. ¡°My papa¡¯s sick, and my sister is too young to work the fields. What will they do?¡±


    Without a word, the man reached out and lay a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder, squeezing tightly. He regarded him softly.


    ¡°Same as everyone, they¡¯ll live. It isn¡¯t your job to worry about how long anymore.¡±


    ¡°But they need me.¡± The boy¡¯s vision blurred, and his face grew slightly warm. ¡°They needed me, and I left them. They needed my help.¡±


    He began to cry, softly at first, but soon enough his body was overtaken by small sobs as tears leaked out of his eyes. He couldn¡¯t help it¨Cthe thought of his father, bedridden without a son, and his sister, struggling to take care of both of them without any help was too much for him to bear.


    He should be there with them. Why had he not been allowed to stay?


    The man never took his hand off of the boy¡¯s shoulder, allowing him to calm down and gather himself before letting go and taking a step backwards. He looked a the boy with kind eyes.


    ¡°I know it hurts. I left people behind too, so long ago,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you something, though, people always surprise me with what they can survive, even after all this time.¡±


    The man smiled now, and patted the boy roughly on the chest with the back of his hand.


    ¡°What you¡¯ve got to focus on isn¡¯t what you couldn¡¯t do, but what you can,¡± he said. ¡°Now, I kept you here so long to tell you a story, so will you listen?¡±


    The boy¡¯s voice was still weak, and he didn¡¯t trust it. Instead, he nodded in response, not knowing what to expect from the man but knowing he wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer.


    ¡°Good,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯ll make it quick, don¡¯t worry. The short of it is that I¡¯m old, or more that I¡¯ve been old for a very long time. I think it¡¯s time I take a break and leave this all to someone else.¡±


    The boy didn¡¯t understand what he was saying, but he kept quiet.


    ¡°See, a long time ago I was just like you. I died and showed up here, and got woken up by someone I didn¡¯t know and told that now it was my turn. She was a really serious type, all business, though I think that was just because she had been doing it from the beginning without ever stopping.


    ¡°So, she tells me: ¡®The people are going to need some help getting here, kid. Will you do it?¡¯


    ¡°Of course, I said yes, and I¡¯ve been doing this ever since. The thing is, people are really good at getting lost. The second they die, they have no idea where to go, so someone has got to come in and help them along a little, get them going where they need to.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been doing, but I have the feeling that I¡¯m about done. So, now that you¡¯re here, I want to know if you¡¯ll take over for me.¡±


    The man stopped talking all at once and looked at the boy expectantly, his arms behind his back. He couldn¡¯t couldn¡¯t think of what to say, but it was obvious by the man¡¯s expression that he had to do something.


    ¡°You¡­.want me to bring people here?¡± the boy asked, finally. ¡°Do you think I could?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re here, aren¡¯t you? You¡¯ve just got to bring other people here, too, when they need it,¡± the old man said. ¡°It¡¯s not too hard, I think you could handle it. So, what do you say?¡±


    It took the boy only a moment of thought before he responded.


    ¡°Would I be able to see my father and sister again, if I say yes?¡±


    Just as he had at the beginning of their conversation, the man laughed. He seemed happy, happier than the boy had seen anyone in a long time.


    ¡°You should be able to see them eventually no matter what you say, really.¡° He smiled. ¡°Question is, do you want to wait for them, or help lead them here when the time comes?¡±


    To the boy, it wasn¡¯t much of a question.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help them,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll help anyone who needs it.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t look surprised.


    ¡°Good. Now, you got questions?¡± The boy nodded, and the old man sighed deeply. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get them out, and quick. I don¡¯t have much time left here.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s my name?¡±


    ¡°Right to it, eh?¡± The man chuckled. ¡°At least you listen well, but I don¡¯t know your name any more than you do. That¡¯s the one thing you¡¯re not allowed to keep when you become like me, at least while you¡¯re doing the job of helping people across. You¡¯ll find a new one for yourself in time, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    The boy looked surprised, but didn¡¯t let the information stop him.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name, then?¡±


    The man laughed louder than ever.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of names, boy. Just call me ¡®old man,¡¯ it¡¯s easier. Now, let¡¯s get going, I¡¯ve got a lot to show you and not a lot of time.¡±


    He shuffled past the boy without another word, towards a point in the distance even brighter than their surroundings. The boy followed, a soft golden glow spreading from his chest, and as he and the old man stepped through the light and into the world, he thought of his sister, and his father, and all of the people he would need to help from now on.


    Take your time, he thought. I¡¯ll be waiting.


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


    Author''s Note: Time for the start of a new Volume. Things are starting to get serious in Volume 5, so I hope you''ll all stick with it and enjoy! Thanks for reading!

 Volume 5 - Chapter 2

    I woke up when someone started knocking on my door. For a second, I thought the rapid burst of thumps coming from the other room might just be the remnants of a dream crossing into reality, but when they came again I knew I would have to get out of bed.


    Slowly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and headed out to the main room with heavy steps. Standing in front of the door, I thought that maybe I should have checked a mirror or something, but decided it was too late. Hoping I didn¡¯t look too awful, I opened the door.


    Asher stood on my porch, wearing a baggy black t-shirt and shorts, holding onto the straps of the small backpack he hanging from his shoulders. As soon as he saw me, he raised his eyebrows.


    ¡°You look like death.¡±


    ¡°Good morning.¡±


    I opened the door wider and walked away, not looking back. While I sat down at my kitchen table, yawning and already thinking about sleep, Asher closed the door behind him, and followed me to the table. Setting his backpack on the floor, he pulled a chair out, its worn wooden legs scraping on linoleum, then took a seat across from me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look ready,¡± he observed, appraising me again. ¡°Had you even woken up yet?¡±


    ¡°Of course I did,¡± I said, resting my cheek in my palm. ¡°I got up about two seconds before you started knocking.¡±


    Asher shrugged.¡° I figured as much, so I came over to make sure you were up. You had better get going soon--we¡¯re really going to hear it from Cat if we¡¯re late.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, captain,¡± I said, giving him a mock salute as I stood. I was still a little drowsy. ¡°I¡¯m going to go shower. You can just wait for me there, I shouldn¡¯t be long.¡±


    He nodded, and pulled out a small book, opening it up to a dog-eared page and disappearing between the covers. Still too tired to travel faster than a slow crawl, I eventually made my way to the bathroom, and carried out my morning routine.


    By the time I had finished, no more than twenty-five minutes could have passed, which made it that much stranger to walk back into the kitchen to find Asher standing at my stove, just putting the finishing touches on some scrambled eggs.


    He must have heard me coming, as he turned his head and gestured towards the table.


    ¡°I finished making some bacon already. If you want toast or anything you can make it yourself.¡±


    Looking at the table, I saw that he had pulled out some plates from my cupboards, one of which was covered in pieces of bacon, black at the edges. They looked delicious.


    After putting a few pieces of bacon on a plate for myself and pouring a cup of milk for both Asher and myself, I sat down.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to make anything, you know,¡± I said, the fact that it came through a mouthful of bacon probably hurting my case. ¡°I could have just eaten some cereal.¡±


    He waited until he had finished his eggs and made a plate of his own before answering.


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s just that sometimes I get this almost¡­.uncontrollable urge to make eggs.¡± He glanced down at his hands, before continuing in a quiet voice. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s hard to even look at myself in the mirror. I¡¯m scared I¡¯m turning into my father.¡±


    I took some eggs.


    ¡°Is that some kind of joke? I don¡¯t really get it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Asher said, waving his hand dismissively, ¡°but don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯d be too hard to explain.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha.¡±


    We finished our meal in silence, although it didn¡¯t take long--Asher is surprisingly good at making breakfast foods, and I didn¡¯t waste much time in finishing it off. After rinsing off our plates, I headed into my living room and picked up my bag off of the couch. By the time I got back, Asher was already standing, his bag pulled up onto his shoulders.


    ¡°You got everything?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± I replied, gesturing to my own bag. ¡°It¡¯s not like I packed too much, anyway. It¡¯s just one day.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but you never know,¡± he said, eyeing my ceiling. He bit his lip. ¡°By the way, I want to ask you something.¡±


    The way that he paused before speaking threw me off a little. He seemed uneasy.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    He crossed his arms and continued looking upwards.


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a good idea for us to go out like this today?¡±


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    Finally, he looked at me, and I was surprised to see that his question was genuine, rather than his typical ¡°why is Cat dragging us around again?¡± shtick. He continued looking towards me, obviously expecting a response, but for some reason I found it hard to give him one.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said, although I already had an idea. ¡°We already planned this all out, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve noticed it too, right?¡± He was startlingly serious, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he questioned me. ¡°Almost every time we¡¯ve run into anything supernatural in the past few months, it¡¯s been when we were all together. It¡¯s happened way too much to be a coincidence.¡±


    I was still holding my my backpack up by the strap, and I set it down next to my feet before responding.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying we keep getting attacked just because we¡¯re all together? Doesn¡¯t that seem like a bit of a leap?¡±


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s a leap,¡± he said, pushing his bangs out of his face. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure if that¡¯s it, but there has to be something going on that makes stuff go bad when we¡¯re all together. Maybe it¡¯s just one or two of us that are attracting these things, but honestly, that doesn¡¯t make too much of a difference to me.¡±


    He stopped for a moment, but I couldn¡¯t think of anything to say. Asher turned his eyes to the ground.


    ¡°The sea monster was too close,¡± he said. ¡°It was a miracle that we all survived. I¡¯m just worried that we won¡¯t be so lucky next time.¡±


    That was when everything clicked into place, and I realized just how much of an effect the fight with the sea monster--or, really, the last few months--had had on Asher. Sometimes, when you¡¯re busy worrying about something yourself, I guess it¡¯s hard to see just how much someone else might be worrying, too.


    I knew I had to say something.


    ¡°I still think about it, you know,¡± I said. Asher glanced at me. ¡°The beach, all of the people, especially you and Cat. Ayame was so scared, thinking you wouldn¡¯t come back, and I was too.¡±


    Asher looked away.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I--¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I cut him off quickly, surprised at the force of my own voice. ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean. I know you and Cat did what you had to do. What I¡¯m trying to say is...well, you¡¯re not the only one thinking about it, okay? We¡¯re all worried about what¡¯s happening.¡±


    For a second I stopped, catching my breath. Asher, messing with the strap of his backpack, smiled slightly.


    ¡°Not too long ago, Ayame told me something just like that.¡± He rubbed the nape of his neck. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I guess I¡¯ve been pretty bad at listening to you guys. It¡¯s just so hard, all of this going on while we know pretty much nothing about why. I just want us to stay safe.¡±


    Asher stood there, the dim light casting gray shadows in his hair, coating his downturned face. I took a step forward, and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    He looked up, and the shadows disappeared.


    ¡°So do I,¡± I said, ¡°but this is something we have to do together. We¡¯re friends, we can¡¯t let the fear of something happening keep us from hanging out together.¡±


    Not surprisingly, Asher didn¡¯t say anything, but the look he gave me was enough to let me know that he understood. Lifting my hand from his shoulder, I picked my bag up off of the ground.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± I said, ¡°I think that¡¯s enough soul-searching and emotional bonding for a while. We should probably leave, don¡¯t you think? Like you said, Cat will never let us hear the end of it if we¡¯re late.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s head out,¡± Asher replied, hiking his own bag up on his shoulders. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot to do today.¡±


    We headed toward my door, and as Asher grabbed the handle, I remembered something.


    ¡°How about you explain that joke about your dad and eggs, now?¡± I asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got plenty of time on the way there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll warn you, it¡¯s not that funny,¡± he said, although he still laughed a little. ¡°But I guess I can tell you. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    He opened the door, and we headed out.


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


    Author''s Note: Moving on, we''ve got a new POV. Hope you all enjoy!

 Volume 5 - Chapter 3

    I woke Cat up by knocking on her door--or, rather, someone was sent to wake her up after I knocked on her door. Meanwhile, I sat on an ornate bench in the main hall of her home, staring at the ceiling and marvelling at just how huge everything was compared to what I was used to.


    Of course, I knew her parents were both popular scientists, but how anybody could get so wealthy simply through academia was a little beyond me. Maybe they had some business or investments on the side that Cat had never mentioned?


    Ultimately, however, I knew it wasn¡¯t really my business to worry about, and I let that line of thought drop off, waiting for Cat to make her way downstairs.


    It didn¡¯t take her long--one of Cat¡¯s many strange talents is her ability to get ready in almost no time at all--and I saw her walking down the main staircase no more than fifteen minutes later.


    She smiled when she saw me.


    ¡°You¡¯re here early, Ayame,¡± she said, crossing the large open space to meet me near the entrance. She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, shorts and sneakers, and looked ready to head out at any moment. ¡°Aren¡¯t you tired?¡±


    ¡°You were the one who said to get here at around 9 o¡¯clock,¡± I said, standing up and stretching my limbs. I took my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. ¡°It¡¯s 9:06 now. Did you forget?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I just figured that everyone would get here a little later.¡± She leaned in conspiratorially, as if she were about to impart on me some knowledge of national importance. ¡°You know, Asher takes about a million years to get ready every morning. We¡¯ll be lucky if we see him and Miller before 11.¡±


    She laughed, pulling her head back and tossing strands of red into her face, and I couldn¡¯t help but join in.


    ¡°Anyway, sorry I kept you waiting,¡± she continued, although she was still chuckling a bit--apparently poking fun at Miller really got her going. ¡°I should have known that at least you would make it here on time.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem.¡±


    Cat gave me another smile, before placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head upwards, looking almost as if she were admiring the ceiling. After a few moments of contemplation, however, she seemed to get bored of the sight, and returned her focus to me.


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re probably going to have to wait for them for a while. ¡°She scratched her nose. ¡°Anything in particular you want to do until then?¡±


    She looked at me expectantly, and although I did give it a little thought, I knew my answer almost immediately. Although Cat and I had hung out plenty of times before, I always felt at a loss of what to do when we were actually at her house--there was just so much, it was hard to even make a suggestion.


    So, I went with the normal response.


    ¡°No, not really.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    She seemed to have expected that answer, and gave me a double thumbs-up.


    ¡°Perfect,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s go take a walk in the garden, then. There¡¯s something I want to talk to you about.¡±


    Spinning on her heels, she headed towards the door, and I followed behind, leaving my backpack on the bench.


    Normally, hearing someone say anything along the lines of ¡°I need to talk to you¡± would have made me nervous, and led me to run through everything I had ever done wrong in my life, but with Cat it was a little different. If she had something bad to tell me, she would have done it straight off, without any of the theatrics.


    Still, that didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t very confused as we headed outside, hanging close to the side of her house as we weaved through a collection of short trees and shrubs, some of which were covered in small white and pink flower buds, about to unfold.


    Someone must have recently come through to water the plants, as the air was heavy with the distinctive scent of damp flowers. In most cases, I would have given the experience my full attention, but this time my attentions were a little more divided, shifting between the flowers and the stone path at my feet as I thought about Cat¡¯s words.


    Something she wanted to talk to me about? Even if it wasn¡¯t going to be something bad, it at least had to be serious, with the amount of weight Cat had given the topic.


    Frankly, I was on the edge of my seat wondering what it could be.


    Cat continued to lead the way for some time, taking us deeper into the labyrinth that was her mother¡¯s botanical garden. As we sunk further and further in, the collection grew in both size and density, transitioning from the thin collection of short trees near the house and into a closely packed group of curling trunks and twisting branches.


    The sky was nearly blotted out by the leaves of varying sizes hanging above our heads, bathing us in half-light, and although I had some trouble keeping sight of the path, Cat didn¡¯t seem to notice a difference. After a few more minutes of walking, just as I was beginning to entertain the idea of us being lost, Cat stopped.


    ¡°Okay, this should be far enough,¡± she said, turning back to face me for the first time since we had entered the garden. She stepped to the side, revealing a fork in the path ahead, at which a small stone bench sat. ¡°Want to sit down?¡±


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    ¡°Sure.¡± I nodded and followed her, taking a seat on the cold stone. It was low on the ground, making the trees seem even taller than before, but I didn¡¯t focus on them much. ¡°So, why did you bring me all the way back here to talk?¡±


    Cat motioned at the trees.


    ¡°Because it¡¯s out of the way, mostly,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s so many people all around the house, someone would probably hear us talking.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I should have figured it was something like that. ¡°What did you want to talk about?¡±


    ¡°Just had a question.¡± She shrugged, and picked up a small, dark leaf off of the ground, balancing it on top of her pointer finger. ¡°You¡¯ve been spending a lot of time with Asher, trying to figure this stuff out, right?¡±


    I¡¯ll be honest, that wasn¡¯t exactly the question I was expecting.


    ¡°Um,¡± I started, and looked at the ground. Something about the way she phrased it made me strangely hesitant in my answer. ¡°We¡¯ve been doing a lot of research on everything, yes. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I just wanted to know if you¡¯d found anything on how we can learn to summon the swords,¡± she said. When I didn¡¯t respond, she blew the leaf out of her hand. It landed in my hair. ¡°That¡¯s my question.¡±


    I took a breath.


    ¡°Not that I can think of, offhand,¡± I said. She lowered her eyes. ¡°Is something the matter?¡±


    Cat¡¯s eyes widened a little and she shook her head.


    ¡°No, nothing like that, at least not right now,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­.well, I¡¯ve been lucky with the sword so far. Every time we¡¯ve been in trouble it¡¯s appeared, but I¡¯m a little worried it won¡¯t always be like that.¡±


    ¡°So you want to learn how to summon it just to be sure you¡¯ll have it when you need it?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Cat said. ¡°At least, it would suck to get into a tight spot and not be able to bring the sword out. I¡¯d rather that not happen.¡±


    It made sense, really--considering the swords had seemed to be our only sure-fire method of dealing with the dangerous situations we had been finding ourselves in, I could understand wanting to be able to control them fully, and I was flattered that Cat had come to me for help with that.


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t really see much that I could do for her and Asher.


    ¡°Well, even though I haven¡¯t seen anything yet, maybe we could look some stuff up tonight?¡± I said. ¡°Although, I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯m not sure how many places will have tips to help with summoning swords out of thin air.¡±


    Cat laughed a little, and I was glad to see her perking up.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right,¡± she admitted. ¡°Maybe me and Asher will just have to start practicing more often. Figure it out that way.¡±


    She grew quiet, staring at her hand in some of the most intense concentration I had ever seen from her. For a brief moment, I was hit with the image of Asher kneeling in the library, seeming to crumble under the uncertainty of our situation, and I realized that Cat, despite appearances, must have often felt the same.


    I knew, then, that I needed to do something. Anything, to take some of that weight off of her.


    I reached out, and took her hand.


    ¡°I know you two will be able to do it,¡± I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. ¡°Do you remember what it felt like, the other times you summoned the sword?¡±


    Cat looked confused for a moment, but answered anyway. ¡°Of course. If I really think about it, it¡¯s almost like I can still feel it.¡±


    I squeezed her hand once, before returning my own to my side.


    ¡°Then there you go,¡± I said simply. ¡°Think about that, and use it, and I¡¯m positive you can figure it out. With everything else you and Asher have already done, this will be easy for the two of you.¡±


    She was still looking at her hands, and for a moment she still seemed unsure, but that was only a moment. Then, curling her hands into fists, she stood, her face set in a familiar look of determination.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Ayame,¡± she said, nodding in agreement. She looked down at me. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out, no problem!¡±


    She was smiling again, and I was happy to see her already bouncing back from her brief foray into uncertainty. Standing up myself, I checked my phone for the time, and noticed that I¡¯d missed a message from Asher a while back.


    ¡°Oh, Asher messaged me,¡± I told Cat, checking the short message. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re on their way.¡±


    Cat looked like someone had just told her she¡¯d been appointed the next Queen of a small nation. Looking at my phone quickly, she turned and began rushing backwards, towards her house, raising a hand in the air.


    ¡°Secret meeting adjourned!¡± she announced, jogging away from me. I rushed to keep up. ¡°Now let¡¯s get back before they get here. I don¡¯t even wanna know what they¡¯ll say if we aren¡¯t there when they do.¡±


    And we ran off, back through the mismatched forest, laughing as we neared the house.


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    Author''s Note: Short chapter, but I hop you all enjoy it. Let me know what you think!

 Volume 5 - Chapter 4

    The angel sat in a delicate metal chair, arms folded as he curled a lock of his golden hair between two fingers. In front of him, a small basket full of bread rolls sat--an appetizer he had ordered less from hunger and more from habit, although he was currently chewing absentmindedly on his second.


    Glancing around, he appraised the other customers of the small cafe, silently assessing their mannerisms, determining whether they posed a threat to the secrecy of his upcoming meeting. He had learned long ago that one could never be too careful in such matters, and so was very thorough in his observation, but eventually he let it rest--they seemed to be nothing more than average humans.


    Finally, with that squared away, he turned to look across the street, and he waited.


    It took longer for his companion to arrive than he had expected, and as the angel made his way across the street ten minutes late, adjusting his sunglasses and scanning the area, Barachiel decided he would have to get to the bottom of the uncharacteristic tardiness.


    But that must be put aside until later. Today, he had something much more important to discuss.


    The angel reached the table, and took a seat across from Barachiel. Removing his sunglasses, revealing vibrant brown eyes, he raised his eyebrows.


    ¡°Did you order all of this bread for yourself?¡± he asked, while simultaneously raising his hand for a nearby waitress and ordering a cup of coffee. Smiling as she walked away, he ran one hand across the dome of his shaved head and picked up a roll with the other. ¡°Or did you just want to leave with takeout?¡±


    ¡°We have something we need to discuss, Eremiel,¡± Barachiel said, ignoring his comments. ¡°I am going to need your assistance in furthering our plan.¡±


    Faster than lightning, his expression changed, his eyebrows furrowing, his mouth closing in a straight line as he rested his chin in his hands. For all of his jokes, Eremiel knew when to get serious, and Barachiel had always felt that many of his other companions could learn from following in his example.


    ¡°Ah.¡± Noticing that the waitress was approaching once again, he waited until he had prepared his drink--more cream than coffee--before continuing. ¡°I had meant to ask how they were progressing. I haven¡¯t felt anything strange in some time, so I assumed nothing had changed, but the fact that you called me out here is making me think a little differently.¡±


    ¡°That is correct,¡± Barachiel said. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, things have been moving at a much slower pace than we would have hoped, which explains why you and the others have not felt any changes since the initial surge. However, I have been watching them closely, and have seen their development first hand. No matter how slowly, they are coming much closer to realizing the full extent of their abilities.¡±


    Eremiel nodded, and took a sip of his coffee. ¡°Well, that¡¯s good news, I suppose. Would you say they are close to opening the gate, then?¡±


    Barachiel tore off the end of his third roll and began to chew, mulling over his response. Eremiel had a special knack for asking the very few questions that Barachiel did not have an answer to, a quality which, although one of the many reasons he kept the sharp-witted angel at his right hand, never ceased to annoy him.


    Finally, Barachiel sighed, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair.


    ¡°Truthfully, there is no way to know,¡± he admitted. ¡°But, if you are asking for my personal opinion on the matter, I believe that they are very close.¡±


    ¡°Hm, well, I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡± Eremiel seemed impressed, and Barachiel drew no small amount of satisfaction from how quickly he accepted his word. Then, finishing off his drink, the angel laid his hands flat on the table and met eyes with Barachiel. ¡°But, I must admit, I am a little surprised to hear that we are so close to completing our goal, even with Ambriel¡¯s interference.¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    And there it was, the other reason Barachiel tried to allow Eremiel to do his work alone--he had a way of reminding Barachiel of his greatest failures, even if he didn¡¯t plan to. Barachiel coughed, and glanced at the ground.


    ¡°Ambriel¡¯s betrayal did come as a shock,¡± he said slowly, measuring his words. ¡°However, there is no way such a small setback would impede our plans. Even without Ambriel¡¯s help, we are now closer to achieving our goal than ever.¡±


    Eremiel nodded, although he didn¡¯t seem to feel the need to add any more, simply waiting for Barachiel to speak. Yet another admirable quality he possessed.


    ¡°Still, this does not mean that Ambriel¡¯s weakness has not had its negative effects,¡± he continued, paying close attention to Eremiel¡¯s face, just in case it changed from an unreadable mask. ¡°The Leviathan brought them close to reaching their potential, but due to the interference of our former ally it was not to be so. Because of this, we are going to have to turn to more...volatile assistance to bring forth their power.¡±


    There was still no change in Eremiel¡¯s expression, although Barachiel did catch a faint, almost unidentifiable gleam in his eye.


    ¡°What exactly do you mean by ¡®volatile¡¯?¡±


    Barachiel closed his eyes and sighed.


    ¡°I simply mean that certain individuals have had trouble controlling them in the past,¡± Barachiel said. ¡°That is all. For someone with strengths such as yours, they will pose no threat, I am sure.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡± Eremiel scraped his spoon on the bottom of his cup. ¡°So I¡¯m going to be dealing with them, then?¡±


    ¡±You¡¯ll be watching over them,¡± Barachiel clarified. ¡°Hopefully you will not need to intervene, but on the chance that they go too far you must put a stop to them. It would be unfortunate if they were to kill them and start it all over.¡±


    With a nod, Eremiel reached for his sunglasses.


    ¡°Is that all for the orders?¡±


    ¡°Nearly,¡± Barachiel said. ¡°There is just one more. I need you to tell them what they are.¡±


    For the first time, Eremiel¡¯s expression altered, his eyes widening slightly, but he controlled it quickly. With a small smile, he leaned back in his chair.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I have been watching for some time, and am sure that this is what must be done. They need to know,¡± Barachiel said. ¡°If they do not, it will be much more difficult to convince them to lend us their aid.¡±


    With that, Barachiel stood, the metal legs of his chair scraping on stone. Placing one hand in the pocket of his trenchcoat, he grabbed the bread-basket with the other. Across from him, Eremiel followed his example, placing his sunglasses on his face and fishing out some bills to cover the tip.


    ¡°There are your orders,¡± Barachiel said coolly, glancing around at the other customers once again. ¡°I will send a messenger with their location, and we will meet again when the mission is completed.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± Eremiel said. ¡°Although, I do have one question.¡±


    Barachiel was almost surprised.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°How do you know they will open it?¡± he asked, his expression plain. ¡°Nothing so far has pushed them to that point. What is to say that anything will?¡±


    The angel was turned around, golden strands of hair flowing in the breeze, and Eremiel couldn¡¯t see him grin.


    ¡°There is no need to worry,¡± he said, resuming his stroll away from his subordinate. ¡°Legion will succeed. We will make sure of it.¡±


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    Author''s Note: With school kicking in, there may be some delays in the future, but I hope you all enjoy the progression of the story nonetheless. Things are starting to get serious!