by Plum Pascal
“I can’t… run anymore,” I say out loud, panting with the exertion it takes to speak. My voice sounds strangely foreign—high pitched and terrified. Inhaling, I shake my head as I face the road ahead of me—asphalt that stretches for what seems like miles, with only the loneliness of a dark forest on either side to keep it company. And the occasional broken-down car, mostly reduced to a skeletal, rusted frame.
It’s coming, the voice warns.
I can hear it. Tree limbs snap behind me, accompanied by growling and the sound of something sniffing, catching my scent on the wind.
Move, Eilish!
My heart beats like a frightened bird trapped in a tiny cage. The chills are growing stronger now, refusing to let go. Beneath my armpits, my sweatshirt is soaked, and still more beads of perspiration bleed from my hairline. I’m so exhausted, the idea of continuing on makes me want to pass out.
If it finds you, it will rip you to pieces, the voice cautions.
A long stream of snot drips from my nose, and I wipe it on the sleeve of my torn sweatshirt. The drops of rain come down harder now and I stand up, forcing my fatigued legs forward. The chills continue to throb, echoing the pain that envelopes my entire body.
Move, Eilish, the voice commands. Move now!
“There’s… nowhere to go!” I sob, wiping away tears. Ahead of me, I see only empty highway. Who knows where it leads? Who knows if there might be more of them up ahead? Who knows anything...?
More breaking branches in the distance. It’s getting closer.
Take that path, the voice orders as soon as I turn my head to the side and notice a narrow aisle leading between the trees, weaving a barren trail between the foliage.
I won’t make it, I think as more panic begins bubbling up inside me—or it might be the sickness. The nausea. The vomiting.
Move faster!
Seizing the cresting wave of hope that swells through me, my energy surges. I make a furious run down the path, forcing whatever drive I still possess to my aid. The sounds of the forest around me heighten, as if my hearing is suddenly amplified.
Branches break in the distance, the heavy sound of footfalls of someone or something in pursuit. And the grunting of something big, something angry.
The trail bifurcates at an enormous pine tree, the path splitting ways around the trunk. I could go right, or I could go left. Right or left.
RIGHT OR LEFT?
At the sound of grunting, my blood freezes. When I turn around, I feel my heart start thundering again, but I see nothing there—only the dark outline of the skeletal tree trunks that surround me. But I can still hear the snapping of branches underfoot. Whatever is after me, it’s even closer now.
I face left and follow the trail around the tree, then down a small hill of loose dirt. I lose my footing and start to stumble, but right myself on a large rock before continuing forward. The trail is interrupted by a small trickle of water, but picks up again just beyond the stream and parallels it. I jump over the water and follow the path.
It’s still behind you. You haven’t lost it, the voice tells me.
I keep going, trying to keep my balance even as my worn tennis shoes sink into the mud at the side of the stream. Once I’ve reached the bottom of the hill, I notice the path takes a sharp right, disappearing around an enormous boulder. I follow it, doing my best to keep my shoes from being sucked into the mud. As soon as I turn the corner, around the boulder, I’m greeted with a massive gate constructed of sheet metal, barbed wire looped across the top.
Above the wire is a crudely erected outpost, jutting out beyond the line of the tall gate. Rusted vehicles are piled high, flanking either side of the entry. And on the platform someone is dressed in military fatigues. The someone is also armed with a large weapon, and he’s wearing a helmet so I can’t see his face.
“Help me!” I yell as I emerge from the forest and stand before the gate, waving my arms. I suddenly feel lightheaded.
You have to remain aware, the voice insists.
I focus on the platform above me. From my standpoint, I can’t tell what type of creature the soldier is. All I can hope is that he’s friendlier than whatever’s behind me.
“Who are you, an’ which precinct you comin’ from?” the soldier asks.
At the question, the shadow that shrouds my memory lifts enough that I can confidently tell him who I am. At least I know my name, anyway. Or, at the very least, I know the name the voice keeps calling me.
“My name is Eilish,” I answer. My tone of voice is bordering on frantic. As to precincts, though, I don’t know what he’s talking about.
“What you doin’ here?”
“Something is following me!” I yell, feeling lightheaded again. I have to drop my attention back to the ground, because my knees are starting to sway and my vision is blurring again.
“What precinct you comin’ from?” the soldier repeats.
“I don’t know!” I admit before glancing behind me, certain I hear the sound of something coming. But nothing is there. Whatever it is, it’s still in the forest. I face forward again. “Please, open the gate!”
The soldier turns to another one who appears on the platform and the two speak. The second one shakes his head, and the one I briefly interacted with shrugs as he turns back to face me.
“We ain’t gonna let you in unless you tell us what business you got here,” he says.
“Something is following me in the woods!” I scream up at him. “Please!”
“You got currency?” the other one chimes in.
“What?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Coins. Somethin’ to make it worth our while?”
I thrust my hands into my pockets and come up with nothing. Not even a stray piece of lint. I look back up at them and shake my head.
“We can’t help you,” the first soldier finishes and starts to turn his back on me.
Take off your hat and show them your hair, the voice instructs me.
With no alternatives, I follow the directive and reach up, only just now realizing I’m wearing a hat. I pull it off and a mess of matted white hair, complete with leaves, seeds and other forest debris, falls down around my shoulders.
“It’s an angel,” I hear the original guard yell to the other one.
Just then, the sound of metal against metal screeches through the air, and my attention is drawn forward as the gates begin to open.
###
Silvanus
I watch the female disappear behind the man-made gates of the precinct and curse my bad luck. I am too late.
I do not know how it is possible that she moved as quickly as she did, owing to the foreign intoxicant that bubbles within her veins and causes her confusion. It should have been easier to overtake her.
Morrigan must have emblazoned her with enough power to outrun me, I think. Never mind, the female will be in my custody soon enough. I will see to it. And when she is, I will make up for lost time.
When I hear myself snort, I realize I am still assuming the shape of the boar. Shaking off the creature’s likeness, I return to myself.
It will be more difficult to reach her now that she is within the precinct, but I will not give up.
She can only hide for so long.
###
Eilish
“Get Anona,” the first guard says to the other one, who obediently takes off. I turn around to make sure whatever was following me isn’t still there. But, no, the gates are nearly closed, operated by two guards on either side of them. As I watch them slam shut, the gates suddenly seem farther away than they were, like I’m looking at them through a thick glass lens.
I shake the visual away and face forward. Once I realize I’m safe, my knees give out and I collapse to the ground. Inhaling deeply, I spread my fingers in the wet dirt and feel like kissing it.
I’m panting. My heart’s racing and I feel lightheaded and… strange. My eyes are still blurry and it feels like the rain is coming down harder, which makes
them even blurrier.
Someone grips me by the upper arm and hoists me to my feet. I look up to see the first guard from the platform. His face is still covered by his helmet, a broad iron covering that only reveals his black eyes. I look at his hand where it’s wrapped around my arm, still trying to decipher his nationality, but his leather gloves hide his skin.
“Where… am I?” I ask, but the words barely make it off my lips. They feel heavy and thick in my mouth. I try to make my feet work, but my legs feel like jelly. The guard has to drag me up the dirt path that leads into a town… of sorts.
“You’re in Precinct Five,” he answers, his voice deep and throaty.
Precinct Five means nothing to me.
“What you doin’ out there by yourself?” he asks as he continues to pull me along the dirt road. On either side of us are buildings—some as high as three stories. A few are still intact, but the others bear the signature of the bombs that went off a decade or so earlier. Even so, the insides appear tidy enough—all evidence of the Singularity has been removed. Now, the remains of the buildings just look like empty caskets.
The Singularity…
The word repeats in my mind and I suddenly don’t know what it means or how it got into my head. I’m not even sure how I know what the Singularity is, but the information sits in my brain all the same.
“You hear me?” the guard demands, and I remember he’s just asked me something. “What you doin’ out there alone?”
“I don’t know,” I admit as I try my best to remember, try to understand the events of the last hour. But there’s nothing but a black void inside my head.
“What? You got memory loss or somethin’?”
“Something,” I answer, then take a deep breath and try to force the vertigo away. I feel sick to my stomach. Weak.
“You’re lucky we let you in,” he continues, seemingly determined to make conversation. I’m grateful he opened the gates, but I’m not in the mood for small talk. I’m not in the mood for any sort of talk, actually.
There’s a pounding right between my eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it was but I was so panicked I didn’t notice it.
“Why did you let me in?” I ask, craning my neck upward to look at him. It’s the first time I notice how massive he is. Maybe nearing seven feet, and his girth is almost as wide. He’s probably a demon.
How I know any of this, I can’t say.
“You’re an angel,” he answers with a shrug, like the reason should be obvious. Well, nothing is obvious to me.
An angel. The word holds no meaning to me. It’s as foreign as my name, this stranger, Precinct Five, the voice inside my head…
“Did you check her for the markings?” A woman’s voice sounds from in front of us, and I glance up and into the face of an Opalite Demon.
How do I know what she is? I ask myself as I study the pearlescent quality of her skin. I don’t have any answers.
The woman is wearing form-fitting pants, combat boots, a sleeveless camouflage t-shirt, and a machine gun strapped across her chest. The only hint at her lack of humanity, aside from the fact that humans are extinct, is her eyes. Her orange pupils aren’t pupils at all—they take up the entirety of her eyes.
The guard mumbles something unintelligible and the woman responds with a frown, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stand in front of her. She’s tall, though not as tall as the demon guard. But she’s still a head or so taller than I am. And she’s uncommonly thin, with a long, narrow face, a generous nose, and wide lips.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” she asks, her triangular tongue coming out to swipe at her lower lip.
“Eilish,” I answer calmly. The pounding in my head is making me sick again.
“I’m Anona,” the woman responds. “And welcome to Precinct Five.” She takes a breath and studies me with a curious smile. Then, she rotates me around so quickly, I feel dizzy. “I just need to check you’re legal, otherwise we can’t have you here. But you already know that.”
I don’t know that, but I also don’t respond. Instead, I just stand there as she pulls my loose shirt up from my waist, all the way up until my stomach is in view. I pull it down to my belly button so I won’t risk flashing my breasts to no one in particular. The guard is still behind me. Anona runs her fingertips across the skin of my upper back, then drops my shirt back down and she wheels me around so I’m facing her again. She nods.
“You’re legal, which means everything’s okay,” she says with a clipped smile. Thunder breaks out overhead as another onslaught of rain comes down even harder. She looks upward, appearing to notice the inclement weather for the first time.
“Let’s get you out of this rain,” she adds with a polished smile.
I can’t even feel it. “Okay,” I answer, allowing her to pull me up the now muddied road and into one of the handful of buildings that hasn’t been blasted into oblivion. The demon guard follows us.
I want to ask her what she meant by my being legal, but I can’t seem to open my mouth. It’s like my brain isn’t communicating with my body. Instead, the headache increases and pulses inside my head, feeling like larvae ready to pop out of my eyes.
“How did you end up here?” Anona asks. She holds the door open, and I walk into the dark room. A second or so later, a lightbulb flickers overhead and bathes us in artificial halogen light. I take stock of my surroundings and find a wooden table in the center of the room with four chairs. Anona motions to one of them and I sit down, feeling exhausted all the way to my toes. In the corner of the room is an unattended cot and a dirty-looking pillow. There are no windows.
“She don’t know anythin’. Her memory’s gone. Probably wiped so she can’t tell us nothin’,” the guard says from where he stands beside Anona. She looks at him with a discouraged expression before she sits down across from me and tries to smile. It looks more like a grimace.
“You don’t remember anything at all?” she asks, and I shake my head. She continues, “You don’t know why you were on the road or how you got there?”
I shake my head and wince as the pain behind my eyes becomes intolerable. “I… do you have anything for a headache?” I shield my eyes from the suddenly blaring light overhead.
“Hmm,” she mumbles, reaching forward and gripping my arm. She pushes my long, tattered and soaking wet sleeve all the way up to my elbow and nods once she spots the veins in my wrist, which travel up my arm in glowing neon-green branches.
“She’s going through withdrawals,” she announces to the guard, who doesn’t say anything. I don’t know when he did it, but he’s taken off his helmet so I can clearly see him. Not that I want to. With his scaly red skin, underslung jaw, beady black eyes, and the ten or so horns protruding from his head, he’s an ugly son of a bitch.
“Get the Atacomite,” she orders. He nods and turns around, hulking out of the doorway and disappearing into the pounding rain. “We’re going to get you fixed up real soon, gorgeous,” she says as she turns her attention back to me.
But I can barely register that she’s even there. Even though she’s sitting right across from me, it’s like I can’t concentrate on her—can’t see her. But I can see everything around her. Until the room starts spinning, and the headache along with it. I drop my head into my hands and squeeze my temples, trying to will the pain away. Or maybe I’m trying to shove my fingers through my skull so I can shred my brain.
“Just a few more seconds and the pain will be gone, gorgeous,” she assures me.
I don’t respond.
DOWNLOAD ANGEL!
BAD BLOOD
ONE
♀♥♂♂♂♂
EVERLY
The first step to the school of my dreams isn’t a step at all. It’s a train platform. Passengers of all types (from other dryads to sprites to pixies to nymphs) file into the waiting car. I’m not shown any deference and seeing as there aren’t many of my kind leaving for far off places, I’m the only one holding a suitcase. Most of t
he other passengers look like they’re off to work.
My future awaits and I take it eagerly, but there’s one final goodbye I need to make before entering Arcadia and the Academy of Enchantment Magic.
“Everly?” My mom’s strained voice causes me to turn around from the open sliding-glass doors. Her light green eyes shine with unshed tears as she hugs me one last time. Her straw hair bats at my face and the scent of cedar rush over my senses. “I’m so proud of you.”
The words hold finality. My dryad family is all I know, but I’m making my own way now. Away from the forest. Far from the safety of the Circle. My home. Sanctuary to all my kind. But I’ll return to my fellow dryads as an Enchanter. Someone to follow in the long line of protectors who call the forest their home.
“It’s not forever, mom.” I hug her back, knowing the light of her warmth will have to tide me over for a while.
“I know.” She holds me a moment longer and then releases me. Her green eyes sparkle as the soft breeze twirls the ends of her indigo dress. “But it’s the first time you’ll be out there… on your own.”
“This is where you’re supposed to say I’m all grown up now right?” I tease, already knowing she’s ecstatic to have her own daughter, one of the few dryads, besides the High Priestess, to further their education. Something few dryads are willing to do, but we (in the Circle) need.
Mom gives me one of her special smiles. One only meant for me.
I give her one last hug, fully aware of the possibility she’ll be the last dryad I see in the months to come.
“Go.” She swats my butt and I laugh as I turn to the train.
Without looking back, I head towards the car, trailing my bag behind me. It takes me a second to board, owing to the older woman in front of me. But once I’m aboard, I feel my anxiety start to settle as excitement takes over. This train will take me directly to the Academy of Enchantment and my ride is set to take five hours, a much longer trip than those going to and from work.
