The Epic Freewriting of Kumori Sundavhor

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

She looks up to find the most popular guy in the whole school standing there before her. Her jaw drops, and very slowly, she extracts the ipod from her ears. “Um . . . sure,” she mumbles, more than a little confused. Why would he be trying to sit with her? Oh, God, I hope I look all right. My hair isn’t frizzy, is it? She had to resist the urge to smooth it down, not wanting to look too . . . well, shallow?

“Cool.” He grins and plops himself down across from her at the table. “So, I’m Brendan.” He extended a hand to her.

Ack?! What’s my name, what’s my name?! “Um - Rose. I’m Rose.” She reached out to shake his hand, feeling her breath catch as their skin touched. Wow. How is this even happening?

“Rose? That’s nice name.” He grinned. “I like it. It’s . . . like . . . poetry.”

“Poetry?” She dared to lift her eyebrows. “What would you know about poetry?” A nervous chuckle escaped her, and she looked down to avoid the intoxicating gaze that Brendan was giving her. “I mean, no offense. But you’re . . . a boy.”

To her surprise, he laughed. “Aw, come on, don’t stereotype me!” he begged. “I think poetry’s all right, actually. I mean . . . I’m not gonna spread that around, but hey.” He shrugged. “What’s really wrong with it?”

“I see what you mean, I guess.” Rose smiled slightly. “I guess I really shouldn’t stereotype you, then. But I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you don’t like ballet.”

“Oh, boy.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “You’re right about that.”

No. No. No. Against his will, his feet dragged him out to the car. There was nothing he could do to fight it - he had no control over himself. He gritted his teeth, trying with all his strength not to climb into the drivers’ seat of his black Ferrari, but he couldn’t fight it one bit . . . he slowly got in, fighting against his own self and the painful tingling in his wrist that the bracelet was sending out.

“I hate you,” he spat at the metal bracelet as he finally surrendered and climbed into the car. It was locked around his wrist somehow; he couldn’t get it off . . . and since his parents had the key, they were controlling him. “I hate you, and I always will, until the day I die.”

He drove towards school. Every minute his face grew harder and harder - not of his own will, though, of course. This was what he had to do. They’d told him to break up with her . . . and he had no choice. He had to obey; the wristband was forcing him to.

The part that made the whole experience ten times worse was feeling the anxiety emanating from her. He could do that - sense her emotions. Call it a creepy power if you will. At times he was grateful for it - but not now. Right now he would’ve given anything just to shut it off. He could hardly stand her worry as it was, and it was definitely going to get stronger when he went through with this.

At last he pulled into the school parking lot, and he felt himself moving out of the car. She saw him from several cars down, and her face filled with relief . . . it was torture. I can’t do this. I can’t, I can’t, he begged himself, but his legs forced him to move towards her and speak the words that would break everything.

“Where were you?!” she cried the moment she reached him, on the verge of literally crying with relief. But when she noticed the cold expression in his eyes, her own widened, and she took a step back. “Wh - what’s wrong?”

“It’s over.” The words came from my mouth like a knife, both to her and me - our hearts crumbled into pieces within seconds of each other. Hers first - bewilderment, pain, and despair. She didn’t understand . . . I can’t do this! No! And his then, when he realized there was no way out.

“What do you mean?” she whispered, her voice holding barely any strength.

“Exactly what I said,” he spat. No! No! It was killing him. He couldn’t stand it . . . but it was over. I should be stronger than this! No! But apparently he wasn’t - he turned to walk away, and everything around him crumbled into pain.

“Augh!” I turned and plummetted towards the ground, beating my wings to drive me even faster. My breath tore out in ragged gasps, but still they pursued me.

“Come back, little girl, come back!” one of the other sneered. Their own wings were bigger, faster, stronger . . . they would win. Unless . . .

I let myself go down through the leaves of teh trees, weaving my way in and out through the tightly knit branches and trunks. My breathing and heartrate exalerated even further, and they kept coming, but I was starting to gain distance. They were definitely not as able to navigate these trees.

“Haha!” I called dspite my fear, glancing out through the branches at them to give them a triumphant look. They stared at me angry, icredulous snarls ripping out of their throats. “You’re going to regret this, little girl!”

“I think not,” I whipsered. Finally I reached the edge of the trees and dove down, my wings carrying me gracefully. Smiling, I stretched out my hands to feel the sun’s warmth on them. The huge orb shone down soft and happy, about to set down over the horizon of our planet.

As I took a turn, hugging the edge of the cliff, I wondered why I was even being chased. Could it be my wings? Not that wings were special - there was a whole species of us winged people here in Erum. Such a beautiful planet. But mine were different than all the rest . . . whereas everyone else had natural tones, like brown or black or white, mine with a bright gold, almost as bright as the sun. Very obvious, unfortunately. They always found me sooner or later.

When I got to the cliff’s base I dropped to the ground, panting, and leaned back against the lumpy stone. By the silence surrounding me, I figured I’d be safe for a while longer. Then, once I continued on my way, it’d be even harder for anyone to find me. Nobody else knew the jungle like I did.

I ended up staying longer than I intended, however. The sun set and I found myself huddling against the stone face for warmth, my wings wrapped firmly around me. They emanated more heat than the rest of me did, but even they were going a bit chilly, even when I fluffed my feathers up.

Sighing, I reached a clawed finger up and gently pushed the hair from my face. In the little light that was left, I curiously examined myself. Why was I really so different? It had to be the wings . . . I was just like any other Avear except for them. Lean, thin, tall, and tan. Each finger with a claw at the tip. Big wings, large eyes, a great sense of direction and touch. So normal . . .

Yet so not.

They’d been after me since I was just a baby. That was the moment my village abandoned me to fend for my own. I knew enough, and with our heightened intelligence I was able to survive on my own. I just barely pulled myself out of being captured every time . . .nothing new there. It was still the same. I could never stay in one place for more tha a few days before the other Avears found my trail again.

Eventually I fell asleep against the cliff, wrapped in my wings and my long hair draped into my face. When I woke

It was her birthday.

She thought it would be a good day. Maybe her best yet. She was sixteen . . . her parents had stopped abusing her . . . she had a good boyfriend . . . and she was happy.

But it all went downhill.

First her boyfriend broke up with her. Nobody remembered her birthday. She found out she was pregnant. Her parents both yelled at her for not doing her chores when she had been under the impression they were giving her a break for her birthday.

She cried herself to sleep last night. They all hated her.

Her boyfriend could’ve cared less. He broke up with her because he wasn’t sure they were meant to be together. He didn’t mean to be cruel. But she didn’t know that.

Her parents had both had a stressful day. They needed to take their anger out, and took it out on their daughter. They didn’t mean anything they said, and it was only an accident that they’d forgotten her birthday. But she didn’t know that.

She took a knife to herself, slicing her wrist into pieces. The blood flowed. She cried, and felt satisfied. This was her lot in life.

She didn’t die that night. She just got a lot of blood on her sheets.

The next day she was on her way to school. Nobody had apologized to her. Her parents still thought everything was okay. Her ex was oblivious. She had never felt more alone. Then a car came barrelling around the corner as she was crossing. She didn’t have a chance to get out of the way. She couldn’t even blink - all that she could do was stare in horror and watch her life fade. A thousand thoughts went into her head at that moment, and finally, she had one last thought . . .

She was meant to die.

CRASH.

The next morning, police found a crumpled body lying on the road. It was identified for the girl. Her parents were heartbroken, and felt it was their fault, as if their outrage two days ago had brought this upon their daughter. Her ex realized that they should’ve been together, and blamed himself as well.

The worst part was that it was too late to take it back.

Sometimes people don’t know what they’re doing. They get out of control. They think it’s not meant to be. They don’t understand the whole situation. But every moment could be anyone’s last. You’re going to wish you had the chance to say “I love you” before everyone dies. You’re going to wish you had known how bad things were. You’re going to wish you could take it all back. But you won’t be able to.

My eyes widened as I stared out the window. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe - couldn’t do anything but feel the terror pounding at my heart. Rain was pelting down as hard as I’d ever seen it, an occaisonal rumble of thunder trying to break down the house. The darkness of night only made everything worse . . . every time the thunder sounded, I helplessly jumped.
“Oh gosh,” I whispered, backing away and hiding my head in my hands. There was no way for me to calm my heart down, and I could feel myself on the edge of hysteria. More thunder came, and I yelped. Within an instant I had gone and hid underneath the cover of my bed.
Then the door creaked open. “Shadow?” Iggy whispered, poking his head in.
I swallowed before speaking. “Hey.” His head turned towards me, and I could only imagine the ways he was interpreting that one little syllable. He walked towards me, and I shoved the blankets aside. Though I was trying to be a little braver in his presence, I couldn’t keep myself from cowering against the wall as the hugest thunder I’d heard yet shattered the sky.
“Hey,” he whispered, finding my hand as he sat down on my bed. “It’s okay.”
Wordlessly I moved towards him, clutching myself against Iggy and closing my eyes with a whimper. “I really hate storms.”
“I know. It’s okay, Shadow, really. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he reassured me, giving me his little smile and putting his arm around me. “We’ll be fine - you’ll see. In an hour the storm will be gone.”
More thunder. My eyes widened, and he must have felt me stiffen, because he pulled me even closer.
“Shadow. Relax.”
“I can’t!” I wailed, burying my head against him. “What if there’s a tornado? What if it kills the house? What if it kills us?!”
“Shadow, really,” Iggy replied. There was no missing his slight smirk. “Do you think that there’s honestly going to be a tornado?”
“Well, you never know,” I insisted, my voice small.
“Look. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”
I helplessly whimpered again, scooting closer. The thunder was getting a little quieter - just a little, but the rain louder . . . a lot louder. “Iggy . . .”
“Relax,” he told me one final time, then pulled my head closer so he could kiss me. Even as I shivered with fear I pressed myself closer, and somehow, everything seemed to melt away around me . . . just a little bit. But it was enough to calm down, and by the time the two of us had pulled our heads back, there was a smile on my face.
“Iggy, I’m smiling.”
“Good,” he said, smiling as well and gently tracing my cheek with his hand. “Does that mean you’re going to stop being scared?”
“No,” I laughed, glancing towards the window. “That’s not gonna stop. But I can at least try harder not to freak out, I guess . . . at least it’s starting to go away.”
“See, I told you,” he said in a teasing tone.

----- I knew he was dangerous from the moment I first saw him. But at the same tiem . . . I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Sure, he was mentally unstable . . . but he did have his sane moments now and then. I was convinced that maybe they would happen more if he wasn’t locked into this padded cell - and I was determined to give him that chance.
----- “Hey,” I whispered, timidly letting myself into the cell. This was where I worked - so I obviously had keys. All the same, I firmly locked the door behind myself . . . no matter how much I simply wanted to set him free, I had to follow the rules. He wasn’t stable yet. I had to make sure before I did anything drastic.
----- This seemed to be one of his less sane moments. His wide, animalistic eyes became even wider, and he growled at me, scuttling backwards on all fours until he was pressed into one of the corners of the little enclosure.
----- “It’s okay. Really,” I whispered, crouching down. I didn’t move any closer, partly because I didn’t want to frighten him any more, and partly because I was scared myself. No matter how human he might be on the inside, there would be no stopping him if he took to one of his rages. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like the others.”
----- “No hurt,” he grumbled, and a slightly human expression entered his dark blue eyes. “No . . . hurt?” The concept was obviously entirely unfamiliar to him.
----- “I promise.” I smiled, blinking.
----- A tremble went through his skinny form, and he growled again, losing the slight echo of sanity.
----- “Shh. Calm down,” I offered, inching forward just a bit. “Look. I brought you something.” I held out a little object towards him - a banana. No, he wasn’t anything like a monkey, at least not in my experience . . . more like a rabid dog. But the files said that he mumbled sometimes about bananas, so I thought maybe it would help if he actually got one for once.
----- His eyes lit up, and it overjoyed me just to see them not looking dead for once. He slowly crept forward, reaching out a hand, but suddenly flinched backwards and resumed huddling in his corner. He still refused to trust me.
----- Not giving up, I made my way a little closer, and put the fruit on the ground to push it over to him. “It’s for you.”
----- He hesitated, then reached out towards it and ripped part of the peel open. The man held it up to his face, but instead of eating it he just inhaled deeply. Surprise - human surprise - flickered through his eyes, then he looked up at me, and it was even more human than before. “. . . Thanks.”
----- “You’re welcome.” I smiled and made my way out of the cell. “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” The metal of key in lock sounded so cruel . . . I could barely force myself to make sure there was no way he would escape. But at least I felt a little brigher as I walked out - so far, I was succeeding.

----- I was having the most normal day in the history of normal. We were all sitting in class - normal old history class - and working on a worksheet with boring questions. Questions we were all expected to know for some reason . . . but honestly, realizing how little we would need these in the future made me mad. Who really cared what Caesar said to his buddies as they stabbed him in the back?
----- I chewed on the edge of the eraser, letting my mind and eyes wander. I wasn’t the only one not looking at the paper, though a significant portion of those who weren’t were simply cheating. The teacher was not looking up, though - he was too busy playing with his new iPad while the rest of us worked on our tests. Selfish jerk . . . he really should’ve been fired months ago.
----- Suddenly there was a dull thud. It sounded like it was coming from the walls somewhere. Most of us turned and looked towards the noise.
-----“All right, class, settle down,” the teacher managed to say, glancing up from his Apple product for a moment. “Just keep taking the tests.” He was so annoying . . . since the beginning of the year, he’d barely interacted with us except to tell us he wasn’t from America, and to assign us homework and stuff to read and tests to take.
----- Most of the other students listened, but I didn’t. Eyes narrowing, I continued to stare at the wall. I didn’t trust the teacher . . . he seemed to think this was nothing. But all too well, something felt wrong. This couldn’t be just the pipes working or anything like that. It was something . . . more . . .
----- The thud sounded again, this time louder, and there was a noticable shaking of the floor below us. The others looked up again - all of them this time - and it would be a lie to say that by this point the teacher was calm. Gulping, he pushed his round glasses higher onto his nose and said, “I’m sure it’s nothing. Back to your tests!”
----- But no. Before we even had the chance, another thud - this time even closer - and then another, and another, until it felt like the whole building was going to collapse. Somebody screamed and hid under her desk . . . without even thinking about it, the rest of us panicked and began to do the same.
----- “All right, children, stay calm!” the teacher shouted. “It must just be an earthquake of some sort!”
----- “What if it’s not?” I hissed. The boy next to me gave me a frantic glance. He was one of the football players - normally so brave, but now, not even.
----- “You really think it’s not an earthquake?!”
----- “I . . .” Slowly I shook my head. How could I know for sure?
----- My thoughts were answered when the wall to the outside suddenly tore away, revealing the ground two stories below and a huge, demonic creature. It was some black swirling shape, the outline barely visible, but I could make out four clawed feet and a head with glowing, ice blue eyes . . . and were those wings?
----- Extending one of its hands towards us, the creature opened what looked like a mouth and let out a roar. It was like one of the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park, only ten times more terrifying, and sending a pitch black ripple of fog through the room with it. Everything seemed to fade around me in the instant it passed through . . . there was nothing, entirely nothing, and it was not a moment too soon when my senses returned.
----- That was when the screaming started. The monster echoed back a roar of its own, and lunged forward into the room, grabbing the nearest desk off of its student and flinging it away. Then it reached for the cowering girl that was within reach . . . but suddenly, our teacher leapt across the room with a shout. My jaw dropped when I saw he was brandishing a huge axe, shining so whitely that it hurt just to look. Before the monster could flinch the man sank the weapon into its body, or whatever it was. It screamed, flinching back, but it was all too late for it to survive - the monster practically exploded, sending another fog of the blankness into the room . . . and when it swirled away, there was our teacher, standing at the edge of the ruined classroom with a fire in his eyes and clenched fists. Panting, he turned to us and uttered, “I told you I wasn’t from this country.”

There was a crack--and they disappeared, gone, never to return. Shrieking, I covered my ears with my hands and ran. The fences on either side of me didn’t waver . . . they stretched on endlessly, and there was nowhere for me to hide. Nowhere to go - I was utterly trapped.

Another crack came from behind me, accompanied with laughter. Yet another portion of the ground swept away to [heck], leaving an even wider crevasse, and all I could do was hope I was fast enough to escape. My legs burned, my heart raced, my lungs heaved . . . but was it worth it?

“Ryss! You need to concentrate!”

“Nnngh . . . ?” Suddenly I saw where I was. There were no fences, no disappearing ground, only the white walls around me, the white everything, the bed I was in, and the medical equipment beside me.

“Ryss, are you all right?” he asked. Who . . . the . . . heck? I’d never seen this man before in my life . . .

“Who are you?” I demanded, suddenly wary. “What do you want? Why won’t you make it all stop!” My voice picked up an edge of hysteria that I was nearly helpless against, and I cringed away. My hands would’ve gone to my ears, except I found they were already there.

He looked me over sadly. He wasn’t dressed white, thankfully . . . I didn’t know if I could take any more of that color. “Ryss . . . please . . . not this again. You have to remember!”

“Leave me alone! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I felt on the verge of tears. It was all too much to handle . . . running for my life, now this random stranger? Then I realized something even worse than not knowing who I was talking to . . . I didn’t know where I was. “Where am I?! What is this place?”

He slowly reached out a hand towards me, not having to move any closer - he was in a chair right by my bed.

“No! Stay away from me!” I shrieked.

Suddenly another person walked into the room . . . this one was dressed in white. “Mr. Tell, maybe you should leave now.”

He shook his head with distress, but reluctantly stood up. As the woman ushered him from the room, he murmured something to her . . . and I just caught what. “I don’t understand. She . . . it just . . . it’s getting worse. Always worse. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“None of us do,” the woman replied. “Just try and get some rest. Don’t worry too much . . . if anything happens, we’ll call you.”

“All . . . right.”

As the door closed behind the man, the woman came and walked to me. “Now, Ms. Tell, do you know who I am?”

That was me, wasn’t it? Ms. Tell . . . funny. That man and I had the same last name. “Stay away, stay away,” I whispered to the stranger, hiding half my face behind the sheet. “Make them stop. I don’t want to run anymore.”

The woman definitely wasn’t disappointed as the man had been when I gave him much the same response. She just looked resigned, and nodded. “Well, I’m making sure you get fed and that you don’t need anything today.”

“Go away, go away! Don’t let them make me run anymore! I don’t want to fall!”

I never understood before. There was something about his eyes that always seemed to render me motionless - well, I found out. He’s the son of a medusa.

He never was much like the real ones. They all had snake hair, and their gazes turned you to stone. But he just has dreadlocks and a temporarily paralytic gaze. Nothing too dangerous, unlike his parent. It comes of being a guy, and not a girl, like the other medusas - or maybe it’s just because he’s not fully monster.

Then there were the others. All of them at my school have some sort of weirdness about them - they’re half-blood monsters. One of them is ten times stronger than anyone else, and his breath is always warm - and I mean really warm. Way warmer than any normal breath. And, he seems to take to things like parasaling off of building roofs - something which he has definitely done before. Don’t even get me started.

Me, what was I? A smile split my face, and with a laugh, I dove into the water. I was half mermaid. No tail, but I had always had the perfect form for one, and it felt like water was made for me.

“Are you sure you should even be here?” Joshua asked me when my head broke the surface of the lake. His nervous eyes darted around. “The signs say no trespassing-”

“I know what the signs say,” I laughed, not waiting for my friend to finish his sentence. “We’ll be fine! They never get caught.”

“I’m not sure. It just feels . . . different. There’s some smell. It’s wrong.” He pushed the shaggy hair out of his face and glanced around.

Yeah, Joshua was half werewolf. No turning into a wolf, thank God - did wolves like to eat fish, I wonder? - but he did have a strong nose, took well to forests, and had a lot of hair. Not in a gross way - just mostly on his head. He was only fourteen, and I didn’t know whether it was normal, but he was shaving daily already and if he didn’t go in every few months for a haircut, it grew out to the length one might call girly.

Well, knowing this, I didn’t mind trusting his nose if nothing else. “Are you sure?” I asked, dropping my voice to a whisper as I stood in the water, glancing around. Was someone watching us right now?

“Positive. Nobody’s here - yet - but I think they will be.”

I hesitated, then pulled myself out of the water and grabbed my towel. “Let’s get out of here. Hurry.”

He nodded, and we sprinted towards the edge of the property. All half-breeds were faster than normal humans, so we didn’t have anything to worry about - unless the humans had already known we were coming and prepared. It wasn’t entirely unheard of that a crazed one would come along once in a while, out to get any and all monsters it found - including their children. They were all fair game, and once one was caught, none of them ever returned.

“And if I wanted you to stay . . .”

“No.”

She takes in a shuddering breath and turns around before he can see the tears in her eyes. “I would have told you so.”

“No. Please,” he begs, his voice cutting her like knives. She can’t stand to hear him so miserable.

“Please. Just leave me alone,” comes her reply. The words are no more than a whisper; she can barely keep her own sobs back. She can just imagine his face. Twisting up, then he’d turn around and leave. She snuck a peek to see if he’d got it right, but he was still standing there, staring at her with a forlorn expression.

“Peyton-”

“Dan! No!” she instantly replies as he takes a step towards him. “Why can’t you just listen!” But it’s too late now - she starts sobbing, and that’s when she knows it’s time to leave. Hiding her face behind her hands, she turns and tries to run.

“Wait! Peyton!” he calls, and his voice is suddenly stronger. Dan grabs her by the arm. “You can’t honestly tell me that you want things to end here! You can’t, you just can’t, all right?! I know you too well for that and I know that something’s wrong!”

“I can’t tell you,” she tries weakly, then lets out another sob. He would understand . . . but she couldn’t tell him. It was against the rules. If she told him . . . well, she didn’t know what would happen, but it would be dreadful.

“Peyton,” he murmurs, pulling her against his chest. “Please.”

The best she can do is bury her face against his chest and let out a sob. “I’m sorry. So sorry. But I can’t . . . we can’t . . .”

“No. Peyton. Screw it all, okay? I love you, and I’m not letting you go that easily.” He lifts her face with a finger as he speaks, until their faces are angled towards each other, a few mere inches away. Peyton’s breath catches. She can’t do this. She shouldn’t. But . . . . but . . .

Before she could make up her mind, Dan closes the distance and kisses her, lips full of love and longing. She knows she shouldn’t, knows she shouldn’t, but she kisses him back with all her heart, and that’s when she knows - screw the academy, she’s not breaking up with Dan. They’ll be together whether they should be or not.

Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow. All I could think about was how amazingly beautiful she looked, as she walked down the aisle to meet me by the altar. My eyes lit up with awe. And she was going to be mine . . . how did I even deserve to get so lucky? Nothing could compare, nothing. My joy was immesurable at this moment, flourishing inside me like nothing I’d ever felt before.

And somehow, just somehow, she was looking at me with the exact same wondering look. God, it just made her even more beautiful. I didn’t deserve this, I really didn’t. How how how? How on earth was I so lucky?

As we said our ‘I do’s, everything became a blur. I could barely function past seeing her face. That was literally the only thing going through my mind; it was by pure luck that I managed to say all the right words.

Then it was over, and I had my mouth on hers . . . and she was mine. All mine, forever and ever. When our lips parted, our eyes wouldn’t leave each other, and then I pulled her close in a hug that didn’t even begin to describe what I felt inside. “I love you,” I whispered in her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispered, and a sob broke her throat. It somehow only added to my joy, because I knew that happiness was the reason she was crying. “So much.”

“Augh!” I soared across the room, the ground flying by painfully fast, and suddenly I connected with the wall. Dropping helplessly to the ground, I let out a groan. Where were my legs? My hands . . . I couldn’t find enough of myself to move . . .

The monster only moved closer, smoke rumbling out from its mouth. Eyes glowing red, it let out a noise eerily similar to a laugh, and lowered its head slightly. It was like it was amused by my feeble efforts to get away . . . but there would be no getting away, not when this creature’s head alone was the size of an elephant.

“Please. Please. Don’t hurt me,” I choked out, not like it would change anything.

Suddenly a snarl sounded, echoing throughout the room in the creepiest way possible. Something appeared to collide with the side of the monster’s head, so loud that there was a loud crack. The dragon roared, its neck thrashing. What on earth was going on . . . ? Was there a sniper hiding in the building? But there was nowhere to hide . . .

The monster appeared to be snapping at something in the air. Something fast that it couldn’t quite catch. Suddenly the teeth connected together just feet above my head, so strong that a shudder went through the air. And just as the head moved across the room, a notebook fell out of the sky and hit me on the head.

“Wh . . . huh?” I whispered. Again I struggled to move, but couldn’t do much more than raise my torso a few inches off the ground. Even just that took all my strength, so I knew I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. My terrified eyes swept up, taking in the monster, but then they widened.

The monster really hadn’t been fighting the air, and no, there was no sniper. It was . . . a . . .

“Ikigami,” I breathed, suddenly recognizing the creature for what it was.

Though significantly smaller than my enemy, the Ikigami seemed to be having no problems holding its own. Rather, it even had the advantage over this strange monster. Zipping around on wings so fast that I could barely see them, and getting in a bite here, a scratch there, the monster just couldn’t do enough to get itself freed. Finally, it just whimpered, and crashed through the nearest wall to lumber away.

Then, panting, the Ikigami dropped down right in front of me. Our eyes connected, and something flickered through the Ikigami’s. His - or her? - expression reflected shock, and it slowly reached down to pick up the notebook that had hit me earlier. My eyes followed every movement.

“You . . . see?” asked a voice, surprisingly light and kind to be coming out of a monster that looked so powerful. Even if it was an Ikigami, there was no reason to undnerestimate it, especially judging by this performance just now.

I took a moment to find my tongue, then the words came. “Who are you?”

Silence, then finally she replied. “Fisirka.”

The soldiers dragged a thrashing man into a small room made of stone and iron bars, their emotionless faces showing no regret. Water splashed the walls as the man was tossed upon the floor, but they ignored the splatters upon their legs and simply made their way from the area, as cold as the prison’s walls.

“No, I didn’t do it!” the man begged, rather in hysterics now. He was writhing pitifully on the floor without break, except once in a while to stop and pant before continuing. “It wasn’t me, please! Believe me!” The fear was burning him, but most of all, even more so, the pain. A shriek escaped his mouth, sufferous, even just to those listening. One of the soldiers flinched.

“What happened to him, anyway?” he queried, the faint flickering of a freshly lit fire showing lines of concern in his brow.

One of the man’s comrades sighed, pulling the door to the enclosure shut, locking the crazed man inside. “We don’t know,” he said, his voice purely factual - but he, too, was now displaying a hint of regret. “A couple of the villagers just found him like this. But have you seen that wound on his leg? Looks nasty, I tell you.” Flinching with empathy, he sat down beside the others and held his hands to the toasty flame.

“It looks like a bite mark,” another commented, then took a sip from a canteen.

“Yeah. What if there’s something roaming around out here? A vicious wolf! A rabid one!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Those wounds couldn’t have come from a wolf.”

“All right, then, a gorilla!”

“Cut the crap! There’s no gorillas in North America.”

Their prisoner let out another chilling wail, sending the others into silence for a few seconds. Though none admitted it, they could feel the hair rising on their arms now.

“It does look almost like a gorilla, though, if you think about it,” commented the second soldier that had spoken. He poked the flames with a stick, watching sparks swirl into the air before flickering into nothingness. “I mean, Tim’s right, it couldn’t be. But still . . .”

“What if it’s human?” the first soldier commented, eyes widening.

That sent most of the others into chuckles. “Get real, Peter. What kinda person would bite somebody like that? A cannibal?”

“And don’t cannibals usually kill their victims before eating them?”

“Yeah, no way it was a cannibal either.”

Feeling quite silly now, the one who had proposed the idea fell silent, staring off into the trees surrounding them. A faint rustle went through the leaves, and though he could barely hear it, it almost sounded like there was some other noise accompanying the wind . . . a moan, ten times more chilling than those coming from the wounded prisoner. He opened his mouth, about to point the sound out, but then firmly clamped his mouth shut. No need to get laughed at again.

After an hour, one soldier had died.

The five remaining were on the opposite side of the fire as their fallen comrade, faces taut and guns all aimed at the monster crouched hungrily over the man’s dead body.

“Holy - Peter was right,” Tim breathed, fingers shaking intensely as they watched the thing that was feasting on cold flesh.

“But it’s not human, it can’t be! It must be a demon of some sort! No human could survive a point blank shot like that . . .”

“It’s a zombie!”

That statement sent the soldiers into hysterics. Most of them instantly dropped their guns and ran, screaming in terror. In fact, after this, there was only one soldier still brave enough to face the monster. Peter.

His hands trembled, and then he fired the gun at the zombie. It accomplished nothing, though. However accurate the shot was, it appeared to be incapable of harming this monster. Rather than collapsing like it should’ve, the creature lifted its blood-smeared head and unleashed a moan, rising back to its feet and staggering towards Peter.

A ragged breath ripped from Peter’s mouth, and before he could give himself a chance to think twice, he leapt towards the fire. Dropping the gun, he instead grabbed two makeshift torches from it, waving them a mere three feet from the zombie. It didn’t react to them - only staggered another step forward and gnashed its teeth, continuining to moan. Finally Peter just mustered all remaining shreds of courage within himself and went towards the monster, just enough to stab at its head with the torch.

The next twenty minutes were torture. Peter alternated between holding the flames against the monster’s head and dodging its outstretched hands, but when it at last dropped to the ground, the head turned to ash and everything below lit aflame, he knew he was safe - from this monster. There could be more, ready to come at any moment . . .

And there would be another if he didn’t do something to stop it.

Peter caught his breath for a few moments, then returned the torches to the fire, ignoring the burning corpse, and scooped up his gun. His staggering feet brought him over to the prison, where the man inside was still groaning . . . though his struggles were much reduced now.

There was no longer any doubt in Peter’s mind; the prisoner had been bit by a zombie. So he had to kill him. He couldn’t let him become undead. So he raised the muzzle of the gun to the man, aiming it through the bars until it was pressed against his forehead.

Delirious with pain, the man managed a few slurred words. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to . . .” Fear just barely made its way onto his face.

Peter swallowed, beginning to shiver again. He never wanted to kill anyone . . . “I’m sorry too,” he whispered hoarsely . . . then he pulled the trigger.

My breathing staggered to a halt as I looked across the field of flowers. No, I was too late! I wasn’t going to make it.

“No, no, no!” I choked out, gasping for air. I had to keep going, had to try all the same, but I couldn’t . . . just couldn’t find the strength. I’d come so far today already that there was no energy left to pull me on. My footsteps slowed, my feet stumbled, and at last I fell to my hands and knees. My fingers tightened around soft green grass, sending its fresh scent up to my nose, mingled with gentle flowers and musky earth. It was so tempting. I wanted to lay down and sleep forever. My quest had failed already; why didn’t I just . . . take a rest? I deserved it, after all, didn’t I?

The sun, which was the timer I’d been given from the stat, was nearly gone. It was nearly below the horizon; only half an hour more and my friendly compaion would be gone forever. And it was all my fault, because I hadn’t made it.

Go into pinks and purples, find the golden heart. Save the earth from blackness, the sun from ripping apart. The gold entwines with silver to light up all the land. And then the world will be made safe, by this hero’s hand.

The meaning of my prophecy had always been clear. I needed to somehow reach the sunset, find something silver and have it join the sun, and then that would be it. Everyone would be safe. And if I couldn’t . . . the sun would be lost, forever.

“There’s no if and you know it,” my mouth got out, just barely. “Only when. When the sun sets . . .” My face fell, and I ripped the grass and flowers from the ground, pressing them to my face and whimpering. “I failed. I failed.”

Then the sun lowered enough to peek through the treetrunks. It illuminated the meadow in columns of light, making the indigo flowers so bright that they looked pink.

Wait . . . pink and purple?

“Golden heart,” I got out, and dropped everything but one of the flowers. I took it in, not once letting my eyes falter, and that’s when I found it. The inside of the flower was pure golden, not just a pastel yellow like most had within. “Golden heart, golden heart!” Tightening my hands around the bright green stem, I glanced desperately around. Silver, I needed silver.

Then I spotted the few bees that were still awake, buzzing about the meadow. And instead of being yellow and black, they were yellow and silver. Not to mention they were the size of small birds, but I didn’t have the time to worry about that. I forced myself to stand up and hurry over to one, offering the flower to it without a trace of fear.

The bee didn’t want to cooperate, though. It buzzed spastically about the opening of the flower, unable to decide whether to go inside. “Come on, please,” I begged. And as if those words were truly magical, like we’d always been tought in our childhood, the insect slowly hovered closer and at last crawled inside.

Much to my surprise, the flower’s petals snapped shut around the bee. There was a frantic humming coming from the inside, and the flower began vibrating, when suddenly something happened . . . like under a spell, the closed flower suddenly melded into a crystal orb, shocking enough to make me drop it on the ground. And then everything lit up into a burst of light.

When the spots cleared from my version, at first, all I could see was that the light was really weird. So much clearer than before . . . the sun seemed brighter? Was that possible? But before I could make sense of anything, I felt an intense diziness, my vision flashed between sunniness and dark, and then it all just disappeared.

By the time I opened my eyes, it had all returned to normal. And I mean all literally - because I was in my bed at home, despite the fact that I’d come thousands of miles from it. The scent of cinnamon was wafting into my bedroom like always, and right on cue, my mother’s warm face popped in. “Come on, Karina, breakfast is ready.”

I hesitantly stepped out of bed. But . . . the sun . . . like instinct, I turned to the window. Everything was normal, exactly the same as it’d been in the months beore I left. The shadow in front of the sun was gone - and if anything, it was shining brighter than before.

“What happened?”

The light seemed to brighten for a second, but nobody answered me. When I turned around, I found my mother had gone back downstairs to wait for me . . . but there, sitting on my nightstand, was a vase filled with purple flowers . . . and in the middle of them was one rather crystalline. My eyes widened, and I raced over. So it really had been real . . . I spied a notecard at the base, so I wasted no time in reading it.

Two simple words were etched on it in golden letters. “Thank you.” But before I even had a chance to think on it further, the card crumbled into a black dust that blew away on an unsenseable wind . . . and that was when I knew that, whatever had happened, we were safe and would be for the rest of our lives.

L . . . okay, here it is, Im’ sorry. I was taking advantage of your emotions with that stunt. I didn’t mean a word of it, and I’m sorry I hurt you. ._. I didn’t really think about it . . . and I should’ve . . . and I shouldn’t have ever said anything like that. Because I know you love me, I know you would be jealous of that, I know you would feel betrayed . . . and I’m so so sorry. I’m not even going to ask you to forgive me, because I don’t deserve it. I just want you to know how much I regret it, and that I never meant a word of it, and that I love you . . .

Shadow, here’s the truth. Ave and I never did anything of the sort. She was making up every word of it. I love you, you’re the only one for me, ever. And I would never betray you. Not now, not ever. Ave is . . . I don’t know. Very well for Mello, I suppose, but she’s not you. I need you. You’re the only one that matters, and I’m sorry that she was able to get to you like that. I just want you to know the truth - it wasn’t true at all. I promise. I love you, Shadow, and that’s all that matters.

L, I miss you. You haven’t been talking to me these past few days. And I need you. You’re my one and only, one true love, significant other, soul mate. Nobody could ever replace you, and I need you. I can’t go through my life alone anymore, especially now. I never would cheat on you, even if . . . you would. Was it true? Was Ave making things up? Or was she being honest . . . I don’t know what to think anymore, L, but if your distance is for the better . . . it breaks my heart to say this, but so be it.

Shadow, while I’m writing this, I have to ask. Why would you say those things about Mello? Even if you were just joking? It wasn’t funny. I couldn’t take it, and . . . I don’t know, it just hurt. Like having a heart attack for a split second, one that numbs out everything else until all that’s left is the awkward beating and the burning mix of anger and hurt. I don’t believe you would . . . and I wouldn’t cheat on you, either, for that matter. But why would you even joke? What’s the purpose of that, save for getting a little fun out of watching me react emotionally?

L, maybe I really should just . . . leave. I can’t stand to be here around you, when you look so distant like this. I’m too scared to reach out to you anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I need you, but you’re not here anymore. I haven’t heard your voice in days, and . . . I don’t like it. It hurts. I’ll say it again, just in case I wasn’t clear before. I’m sorry. I was an idiot. And I deserve this, every bit of it. When I finish this letter, I’m going to leave it where you’ll find it, and then . . . I’ll go . . . out into town or something. Find a hotel. You don’t need me around you right now, do you? So I understand. And if I find you gone when I get back . . . well, I guess I’ll give my congratulations to Ave for getting the most amazing person in the world.

Shadow, I’m sorry I’ve been . . . avoiding you, if that’s the right word. Not speaking to you. Paying no attention to you. I think I’m . . . trying to figure out . . . what on earth is wrong with me. To be honest, maybe I’m just scared that some ounce of what you said is true, and that I’ll lose you . . . to Mello? No. I won’t let that happen, Shadow. I will fight for you. That’s a promise.

L, I can’t think of anything else I need to say. So . . . that’s it, then. I love you, and I’m sorry.
Shadow

Shadow . . . no, why am I even writing this anymore? No, no, no, Shadow, you can’t be gone. Where are you?! Why, and where, and Shadow, I need you. And I forgive you . . . come back, Shadow, where are you? I swear, this feeling is ten times worse than the other one . . . and I can’t even place it. I’ve never felt this before. Please Shadow . . . come back . . . I’ll find you, I will. I will. I know where to find you. You can’t hide from me that easily - you need to see the truth, and that is that you’re mine. I’m coming for you. I promise.
Love,
L

My breathing staggered as I cautiously advanced forward, gun held before me like it was the only thing I had to keep me alive. Which, really, it was. This alley was too creepy for me; I couldn’t take it anymore. I wish I’d never snuck out, never got lost, never ended up here. But now I had no choice but to brave it.

The straps of my backpack were starting to feel like skeleton hands digging into my shoulders. I couldn’t just throw it off my back, but even thinking like that gave me the creeps and made me wish I could. Every slight tremble of wind against my long hair tickled me, making me think of ghosts, but the worst part was probably the eerie silence that was surrounding everything. It wasn’t anywhere near night time - rather, it was almost noon, but cloudy enough to make it seem much later - and so, it completely didn’t make any sense. The only answer right now seemed to be that something supernatural and dangerous was lurking here.

No, no, I had to stop being ridiculous. I’d never seen any real demons of the sort, so why should now be any different? I was just an innocent little girl alone in the middle of a huge city; what could possibly go wrong anyway?

There was a sudden hissing noise behind me, though. Alarmed, I whirled around, pointing the shaking nose of the gun towards the direction the noise seem to have originated, but no target appeared for me to shoot at. “H-hello?” I tried, my voice trembling as badly as the gun. “Who’s there?”
No answer; why was I not surprised? They never did answer.

I didn’t move for a few seconds, when a sudden smoggy mist started creeping out towards me, along with the hissing. I couldn’t see exactly where it was coming from, but I automatically fired two shots in that direction. Their loud echoes screamed against my ears, but the bullets didn’t find any real mark, apparently.

Suddenly, the hissing noise doubled. I turned around just in time to see another fog of the smoky stuff coming towards me. I broke into hyperventilation, staggering a few steps back. It wasn’t long before I was completely surrounded by a yellowish cloud.

At first I was simply scared, but then as I started choking, I knew something was wrong. My throat was so tight, it couldn’t let anything else in. Lungs heaving, I gasped for air, but all I got was more and more of the dry, yucky smoke. Acute pain stabbed at my throat with every struggle to take fresh air in, and at last, my body simply couldn’t take it. Everything blurred around me, and then black spots slowly sparkled across my vision until they were all I could see . . . and then nothing.