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Tag: The Child

Interlude #5 – Vignettes

Published by Snow on October 29, 2017

The Child returned to The Citadel, the stronghold of the Guardians that existed outside of any world’s time and space. Her machinations were, at least for now, complete. For now, she needed only be patient.

Time did not flow normally through The Citadel, if there was a ‘normal’ for time. Time within an isolated system is not bound to the time of any other isolated system. They do not interact, do not affect one another. Still, moving through fourth dimensional space was not as easy as moving through third, and moving beyond that was more complicated still. She needed a rest, a chance to organise and prepare.

“What are you up to?” asked a voice, as a figure faded in from the darkness.

The Nameless had the look of a teenage boy, just on the cusp of puberty. His short white hair was swept up as though by some unknown source of gravity, and his footfalls seemed to stop just shy of touching the ground. He stared at The Child with shimmering, golden eyes ringed with black.

“Advancing the plot,” she replied, not making eye contact. He was interrupting, and she didn’t care for it.

“We’re not storytellers,” he said. “That’s not our role.”

“According to who?” she demanded.

“Child…”

“The First is gone, Nameless. Our traditions are empty now.”

“You’re young,” he said, his voice even and patient. “You haven’t even seen a single cycle through to completion.”

“That’s the point,” she said. “I don’t want to see this bullshit repeat itself. I want things to change.”

“Things never change,” he replied softly. “Nobody is above that. Nothing can change that.”

“We’ll see.”

With that, she disappeared, leaving The Citadel once again.

* * *

Rebecca sat beside the throne, staring into a floating sphere of light. Two others joined her, neither of them as close to the throne as she was.

“What the actual fuck is going on out there?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Nothing we need to worry about,” said the tall woman with ashen purple skin and bright silver hair. “Not our domain.”

“It is unusual, though,” said the thin, elegant man with pale skin and penetrating red eyes. “Do you think Lucy knows?”

“Lucy knows everything, Nix,” Rebecca said. “If they were concerned…”

“I am concerned,” said a new voice, as a figure materialised in the throne. “But for now, I’m happy to watch, and see how things play out.”

“What are you waiting for?” asked the tall woman.

“A spark of light,” Lucy said.

* * *

Rachel pored over the data, an empty sheet of the strongest migraine medication she could find lying beside her. Not everything made sense, but her brain wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t rest. She needed to dig deeper, to find the solutions to problems she hadn’t even considered yet. Pointless adrenaline coursed through her body, and her head throbbed and ached.

“What are you looking for?” Sadie asked, peering over Rachel’s shoulder. She couldn’t follow any of what Rachel was looking at.

A series of makeshift sensors, built largely out of repurposed homeware circuitry and spare phone parts, picked up her voice, her face, and converted them to a digital signal, which popped up on Rachel’s monitor.

“Don’t know yet,” Rachel muttered. “Answers, I guess.”

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a sketch Rachel had made on a scrap of paper. Rachel glanced at the monitor, able to figure out what Sadie was pointing at.

It was a sketch of two circles, intersecting slightly. Around them she had drawn five other circles, shaded in, and all seven circles formed a ring. Inside of that ring, she’d drawn a question mark. Outside of it, she’d drawn a bigger circle, encompassing the others.

“Outside,” Rachel said.

“What does that mean?” Sadie asked.

“Not sure yet.”

* * *

Roxie sat high above Melbourne, supported by nothing more than the air beneath her, cloak fluttering in the breeze. She looked down at the city, and wondered.

Felix’s death was as vivid as it ever was, and it still hurt to relive it. Since then, she’d spent every free moment she had trying to figure out what had happened. No answers had come to her.

Charlie seemed normal after that experience. Whatever that creature was, it hadn’t emerged again. It was still in there, though. Of that, Roxie was certain. After all, Charlie didn’t die. Something was breaking the rules, just for her.

She considered going back for Sadie. Especially now, while Charlie was nowhere near. There was no risk involved. Sadie could be taken to where she belonged, kept safe, given the chance to move on. But every time she entertained the thought, she was reminded of Felix, and she couldn’t do it.

There were other Reapers, of course. Any one of them could have done it. None of them did, and she couldn’t figure out why. In fact, they all seemed to steer clear of this city, around this time. Of course, they all came back once Charlie was gone, but within the timeline of this world, that wouldn’t happen for another year or so.

In the meantime, there were so, so many souls to collect, and nobody but her to do it.

She missed Felix.

* * *

“It’s done,” Haylie said. Alice nodded.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Painful.”

“Sorry about that,” Alice said. “Hopefully it won’t be for long.”

“Do you think it will help?” Haylie asked.

“We won’t know,” Alice said, a little flat. “I mean, if it works, we will. If not…”

“Thank you,” Haylie said.

“Don’t mention it,” Alice replied.

“Your brother still doesn’t know, does he?”

“He’s basically genetically wired to think of me as a kid that needs protecting,” Alice said. “He can’t help it.”

“Still, it’s a shame he doesn’t see what you’re truly capable of.”

“Hey, that’s just my lot in life,” Alice said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Have you considered finding a way to change your body?” Haylie asked.

“I have about a thousand theories,” Alice said. “And no way to test them.”

“Well, if you ever need assistance…”

“Thanks, Haylie. You’re a good friend.”

 

Next Week: Until You’re Dead

Interlude #4 – Aberrations Like You

Published by Snow on August 14, 2017

One Month Before Impact Day

“There’s no threat, Gabriel,” Haylie said, as soon as the others were out of earshot.

“I know,” he said, which surprised her.

“Then why did you pull me away?”

“Because I need to ask you something, and I can’t ask you in front of anyone else,” he said.

She trusted his instincts and his intellect more than she trusted anything else in the world, even her own sensory data. Even still, she was cautious, not sure what to say to him.

“Okay…”

“Has this ever happened before?” he asked, and immediately, dozens of flagged processes began to feed into her awareness.

“Yes,” she said, the realisation only just dawning on her. “I didn’t…”

“Has it ever happened before we found Exxo?”

“I don’t… Yes,” she said. “It’s not Exxo. It can’t be.”

“Okay,” he said. “I trust you.”

“It is very concerning, though,” she said.

“Exxo might not be the cause, but they are related,” Gabriel said carefully. “We still don’t know what they are, or even the full extent of their power.”

“I trust them,” she said, with a trace of defiance.

“Ami and Kaito described two strange presences,” he said. “Something came here, something powerful enough to disrupt your sensors—”

“Not my sensors,” she corrected. “My memory. Like it was erased.”

“So you saw it happen? You heard it?”

“I believe I did,” she said. “But I have no record of it now. It would be different if the sensors had been disrupted or blocked.”

“Even more unlikely,” he mused. “That goes beyond something even Mason could create, or a creature like Damien could manage.”

“Ami and Kaito described the sensation as nostalgic,” she reminded him. “It may not be relevant, but I believe I can identity similar incidents in my history even before Mason’s birth.”

Gabriel laughed darkly.

“It’s easy to forget he isn’t the source of everything evil in this world,” he said. “I wish I understood half of what he did, or why.”

“I wish I still had access to that data,” she agreed.

“Could Exxo be a sleeper agent?” he asked. “The persistent amnesia, the inexplicable power…”

“Without even realising it?” she asked. “It would break their heart to even consider it.”

“There’s so much we still don’t understand,” he said, frustrated.

“Would you like to?” a third voice said, surprising both of them. It shouldn’t have been possible to sneak up on either one of them, and yet…

They both turned to see the young girl, a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Alice, sitting on some invisible surface, floating above the ground. Haylie couldn’t believe who she was seeing.

“You’re dead,” she said, struggling to process it.

“I sure am,” the girl said. “Did you miss me?”

“You’re the original,” Gabriel said. “Mason’s real daughter. The reason he created Alice.”

“Ugh, don’t get me started on that,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “That man is not my father. Not after everything he’s done.”

“How are you here?” Haylie asked.

“You know, as much as I’d love to answer that, there really isn’t a point,” the girl said. “You can’t remember any of this. It would ruin everything.”

“Why even have this conversation, then?” Gabriel asked, as Haylie desperately tried to replicate and back up her memory files.

“Because you’ll remember. Eventually, anyway.”

“What are you?” he demanded.

“A Guardian,” she said. “Think of me like an Angel, only better. Actual Angels are… well, that’s not important right now.”

Haylie just kept created more backup redundancies, determined to save this conversation, in spite of the impossible girl’s claims.

“What do you guard?” Gabriel asked.

“Everything,” the girl replied. “Reality, mortals, even aberrations like you.”

“Against?”

“Everything else.”

“Fine, be cryptic,” Gabriel said. “What do you want with us?”

“You have a very important role to play,” she said. “Even more than the others.”

“I’m listening.”

“You’re going to help Charlie,” she said.

“Who’s Charlie?”

“You’ll know when you need to know. She’ll be making an antidote for Mason’s affliction. You’ll contribute.”

“Why?” he asked, through Haylie knew Gabriel would give anything for an antidote.

“So that in another seventy years or so, all of the pieces I need are in place,” she said. “Look, I know you like to think of yourself as very clever, but you just don’t have the field of vision that I do. Don’t even bother trying to wrap your head around it.”

Layers upon layers of encryption, files on servers disconnected from everything else, copies fragmented and split apart. Haylie would not lose this conversation.

“You’re prescient,” Gabriel said.

“Kind of,” she said. “Though it’s easier to say I just don’t see time the way you do. Like I said, field of vision. Anyway, you’ve got your instructions. You can forget this conversation now.”

With that, she disappeared.

Haylie and Gabriel looked at each other, uncertain of what had just happened.

“Did it happen again?” he asked her.

She checked. She checked again. She scoured every possible place she knew of to hide files, every location she might stash a memory, or even a part of one.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s all gone.”

 

Next Week: You Really Do Think You’re The Centre Of The World

Chapter 27 – You Are Genuinely Afraid Of Me

Published by Charlie Farrow on May 1, 2017

Nine Months Before Impact Day

I was sprawled on Rachel’s bed, watching her fiddle with another of her projects, enjoying the moment of peace. Peace that could be shattered at any moment if her mother discovered me here, but it was a risk we’d both decided to take.

Her laptop, brand new and relatively powerful, chimed, demanding attention. It had been one of her first purchases with the money from her new job, at my insistence. She only agreed because I’d pointed out ways she could use it to help me.

She carefully put down the circuit board she was poking at, and put the little soldering iron thing on its stand. Then she wheeled her chair away from her desk, fishing the laptop out from under her bed, and crawled onto the bed with me.

I wrapped my arms around her waist as she flipped it open, resting my head against her back. She made a quiet purring noise, but stopped it short.

“Charlie.”

“Mmm?”

“You need to see this,” she said.

I pulled myself up so I could look at the screen over her shoulder. She’d received an email from an email account I didn’t recognise: alice.mason@genesis.co.uk. It meant nothing to me, but the content of the email did.

It was a video of Wendy, the owner of the café I liked to go to with Aidan and Liz. Except she looked different. Her hair was longer, and carefully styled. She didn’t wear glasses, and she was wearing some kind of futuristic-looking bodysuit that left very little to the imagination, to borrow a tired cliché.

She was in some kind of clinic or laboratory, all white walls and silver equipment. When she moved, she moved with an animal grace, nothing like the nervous shuffle I was familiar with.

In the bottom corner of the video, a line of text read: “Specimen W, test #24”

Rachel and I watched in silence as Wendy was asked by a voice with a British accent, “Are you ready to begin testing?”

She nodded, and somebody drove a knife right into her stomach. When she pulled it out again, the wound was already beginning to heal. Faster than mine would have. I was irrationally jealous.

Several other tests followed, and it wasn’t just her healing that was tested. Despite her small stature, she was able to easily lift several times her own body weight. When the video finished, Rachel and I looked at each other.

“Do you think it was real?” she asked, immediately searching for the domain the email had been sent from. It didn’t exist.

“Yes,” I said, though I didn’t know why. My gut was telling me it was true, that was all I knew. “I need to talk to her. I need to know.”

“What can I do?” she asked.

“Keep the door unlocked,” I said. “I’m gonna want to come back here after.”

“Of course,” she said.

Sneaking out wasn’t difficult. I had it down to a fine art after all the times I’d had to do it, and Rachel’s mother wasn’t the most observant type even at her best. And she was rarely at her best.

The walk to the café wasn’t too long. Despite it being fairly late in the evening, I knew I would find her there. My gut told me that was where she’d be.

I wasn’t wrong. I could see her inside, slowly packing up for the day. I checked the door, and smiled to find it unlocked. I let myself in.

“Charlie,” she said, without looking up. “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d pay a visit. Since I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Well unfortunately, we’re closed. You can’t stay here,” she told me.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on staying long,” I said. “There’s just one little thing before I go.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

I took a deep breath. Now or never, Charlie.  Time to find out just how much she knows.

“I know you’ve been watching me,” I accused her. “Keeping tabs on me.”

I didn’t know that, of course. It was entirely possible that we were two superhuman people in the same city, who happened to know each other, completely by coincidence. Possible, but extremely unlikely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and she really did sound genuinely confused. I had a flicker of doubt, but I pushed it aside.

“I also know you’re not human,” I told her, and that much at least I was sure of.

“Now you’re just being rude,” she snapped.

“Don’t lie to me, Wendy. I’m not here to play games with you,” I said, sounding a lot more threatening than I felt.

“Charlie, please. You’re being—”

“You’re afraid,” I said, as the realisation struck me. I could smell it on her. Or, not smell, but something like that. I could feel it. “You are genuinely afraid of me. Even with everything you can do. Why? What am I?”

Wendy’s eyes flicked away for just a second. When they returned and met mine again, they were different. They were the eyes of the Wendy from the video.

“I can’t tell you,” she said.

“TELL ME!” I shouted, and she cringed.

Where did that come from?

“I can’t,” she insisted. “You wouldn’t understand, even if I could tell you. Please, just drop it. For your own good, drop it.”

There was no way that was going to happen. She had answers, and I wasn’t going to leave until she gave them to me.

“Drop it?” I snarled. “I can’t die. The people around me, they’re all… different.” I took a deep breath. There was one other thing. The thing I hadn’t told anyone about. Not Rachel, not Sadie. Nobody. “I keep seeing these cracks. Everywhere I look. Even in places where that should be impossible. Water, air, even people, and nobody else can see them.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” was all she said.

No. I was not going to give up that easily. I couldn’t.

“If you’re not going to tell me anything, then at least give me your help,” I said, almost demanded.

“What?”

“You’re still playing dumb? I told you, I know you’re not human. And I’ve seen what you can do.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but her tone told me otherwise. She was still lying to me. “You won’t find what you’re looking for here, Charlie. I’m sorry.”

The sad part was, she really did sound sorry. It was obvious she had her reasons for not helping me. For keeping secrets from me. I just didn’t care.

“You will regret this,” I told her.

“I already do,” she said. “Believe me, I’m not doing this because I want to. I really wish I could help you, but I can’t. It’s impossible.”

I didn’t say anything else. What would have been the point? She’d made it perfectly clear I wasn’t going to get any answers from her. At least, not by asking.

 

Next Week: There’s Something You Don’t Know About Me

Interlude #2 – I’m Here To Talk To Your Reflection

Published by Snow on March 12, 2017

1 Month Before Impact Day

XO sat on the edge of the balcony, their legs dangling over the edge, enjoying the lights of the city below them. Genesis City was the closest they had to a home, and it did feel nice to be back, away from the danger and cruelty of the world below. Their time in the city was peaceful, and it almost allowed them to feel normal.

“The view is nice here, huh?” a familiar voice behind them said. They turned slightly, and smiled at Alice, her lilac hair fluttering in the breeze.

“Yeah.”

“You come here to think?” she asked, placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Just to get away from everything,” they confessed. Had it been anyone else, they might have asked to be left alone, but not Alice. She was always welcome.

“How’s everything going?”

“I…” XO sighed. “Same as always, I suppose.”

Alice frowned, placing her hands on her hips. It was such a childlike gesture, it almost made XO laugh. She had such youthful mannerisms, and such a young appearance, it was easy to forget she was significantly older than they were. At least, so far as they knew.

“That’s not true,” she said. “You’re a terrible liar, Exxo. What’s going on?”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Understand?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Believe me,” XO implored her.

“Try me.”

XO hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They glanced over to the building opposite the balcony, a massive tower on the other side of a large park.

“Look over there,” they said. “Do you see that?”

“See what? The tower?”

“On the tower,” XO said, shaking their head. They already knew Alice wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said.

“Exactly.”

She narrowed her eyes at them, searching their face.

“What do you see?” she asked.

“Cracks,” they said.

“Are you…” She looked back over at the building, staring, then shrugged. “My vision is better than yours, isn’t it? I really don’t see anything.”

“Neither does Haylie,” XO said. “But I can see them.”

“That’s concerning.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, gently stroking XO’s arm.

“No,” they admitted.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” they said. “I can’t help but feel like… something is happening. Something-” They hesitated, suddenly filled with an uncomfortably familiar feeling they couldn’t quite place. A feeling centred around Alice. “You need to go,” they insisted, suddenly and urgently.

“What?”

“I can’t explain it, but…”

She looked concerned, but nodded.

“Okay, but we’ll continue this later, okay?”

“Thank you,” XO said.

“I love you, Exxo,” she said.

“I know. I love you too, Alice.”

With that, she left. XO watched her go, wondering why they needed her gone so urgently. There was some memory, some sensation, just on the tip of their…

“You know, I never get used to seeing her,” someone said, moments before appearing out of the air. For just a second, XO thought that Alice had returned, but they knew instinctively this wasn’t Alice, no matter how much she looked like her. She was someone else entirely.

“Who are you?” they demanded, despite feeling like they knew the answer, somehow.

“The original,” she said. “You don’t remember me, huh.”

“We’ve met?”

“Sort of. I’ve met some of your other shells. I thought maybe some of the memories would be preserved. I guess not.”

“What are you talking about?” XO asked, beginning to feel a strong sense of panic. Whoever this was, she suddenly seemed dangerous.

“Don’t worry about it,” the girl said, waving away their concerns.

“What do you want?” XO demanded. “What are you?”

“I want…” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “No, I’m talking to the wrong person. I’m not here for you.”

“Then who?”

“I’m here to talk to your reflection,” she said.

“I don’t have one,” XO muttered. “What are you-”

The girl rolled her eyes, pressing her fingers against XO’s head. With a gentle shove, she pushed them backwards, into a dark space filled with glittering shards of light. It was cold, and felt massive. XO had no idea what was happening.

In the distance, they could hear muffled voices. Frightened but determined, they made their way towards the voices, scrambling over shattered glass until they found the piece the sounds were coming from.

Through a window, they watched their body continue to speak to the girl.

“Hello, Reflection,” the girl said.

“Call me Glory,” their body replied.

“Whatever you say.”

“What do you want, Child?” their body demanded, dripping with superiority and impatience.

“I have an opportunity for you,” she said.

“I’m listening.”

“A new world, full of new faces.”

Their body tilted their head, considering it. Curiosity sparked on their face, though they quickly tried to hide it. Had the girl noticed?

“And?”

“Weakened prey,” she added.

“Oh?”

“Divide and conquer,” she said.

“What do I have to do?” their body asked.

“Nothing, yet. I’m taking care of it.”

“Then why talk to me at all?”

“A simple piece of advice,” the girl said.

“I’m all ears.”

“You’ll be in Melbourne in about a month. When you’re there, Exxo needs to be hurt. Badly.”

“They’ll heal,” their body pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” the girl said. “It’s all about the freshness of the body.”

“What are you up to?”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

“Alright. I can probably pull some strings,” their body said.

“I know you can.”

“What’ll happen to this shell?” their body asked.

“It’ll probably die.”

“Good.”

The girl smiled, but there was no joy in her eyes. Only exhaustion.

“It’s time to go back inside, now,” she said.

“Fine, fine-”

She touched their body’s head again, and in an instant, everything was back to normal. They were looking out of their own eyes, at a girl who looked a lot like Alice.

“What was that?” they demanded. “Who was that?”

“Nothing, Exxo,” she said. “You need to forget this now.”

“Forget… what…?” they said, the memories already slipping from their mind.

“Good enby,” she said, moments before disappearing.

 

Next Week: Sort Of A Girl Problem

Interlude #1 – My Little House of Cards

Published by Snow on December 18, 2016

One Month Before Impact Day

The soldiers did their best to avoid her. Zoe didn’t mind. They were too slow, to weak. They only slowed her down. She was far more effective on her own. There was only one person who never got in her way, and he…

A pile of bodies lay at her feet. All human, mindless and bestial. No great loss to the planet, though she still wished there was another way. Not out of any misplaced sense of compassion, it was just that so much death felt like a waste. Every life had value. More specifically, every soul had value.

Still, there was something cathartic about being let loose to cut a swathe through anything and everything that got in her way. She was built as a weapon, and that would never leave her. It was who she was, what she was. It wasn’t all she was, but some part of her would always need that feeling, that release. Better she took it out on humans than actual people. She always felt those losses far more keenly.

It would take them months to clear out this district of the city, more if Genesis intervened. She doubted they would, not with the military presence they held in the city, but she’d learned a long time ago not to underestimate Genesis arrogance.

She closed her eyes, focusing on her other senses. Technically, the HUD provided by her helmet could point her to the next nest of humans, but she preferred relying on her own senses. Technology could be tampered with. She couldn’t.

Something’s here.

She opened her eyes, entire body tensed for a fight. Someone had gotten close, standing right in front of her, and she hadn’t noticed their approach at all. How was that possible?

When she saw who it was, that question no longer seemed important. A thousand other questions flooded her mind as the young girl with lilac hair smiled absently.

“Hello, Zoe.”

“Alice?” she asked, but something was wrong. The girl in front of her wasn’t quite right. Her features were just a little less perfect, a little less symmetrical. Her skin wasn’t quite so flawless. She seemed both more human, and less real. “No, you’re not Alice. You’re…” She trailed off as she realised who it was she must be speaking to. “No. No, that’s not possible.”

“Figured it out already?” the girl replied, her smile widening. “I’m not disappointed.”

The girl she was looking at shouldn’t be alive. She’d died, before Zoe was ever born.

“How are you here? Why are you here?”

“This is just a small stop on a very, very long road,” the girl replied enigmatically.

“It’s been two-hundred years,” Zoe said. “Why have you returned now?” It was obvious she wasn’t getting an answer to the how. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted one. In her experience, immortality always came with a price.

“Oh, I’ve been in and out this whole time,” the girl responded. “I just never needed you before.”

Suspicious. Curious. Surprisingly hurtful.

“You need me? What for?”

“For my little house of cards,” the girl said.

“Don’t be vague with me,” Zoe growled. A passing resemblance to Alice wouldn’t save this girl, and Zoe wasn’t known for her patience.

“Fine. Here’s the deal. You do what I say, and I’ll give you what you really want.”

“I have everything I want,” Zoe retorted.

“No, you don’t.”

Zoe bristled. This girl spoke with entirely too much certainty, too much authority. It rubbed her the wrong way.

“What would you know?” she snarled.

“Everything, Zoe.”

The weight behind those words hit Zoe like a physical blow. Something in the girl’s tone, in her eye, in her body language. It wasn’t just a line.

“What are you?”

The girl’s demeanour changed almost immediately, brightening up. The change made Zoe even more uncomfortable.

“Right, I didn’t properly introduce myself, did I? That was rude of me.” She straightened the pleats of her dress, smiling up at Zoe. “I no longer have a name, but you can call me the Child. I’m a Guardian.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the girl said, waving her hand dismissively. “Look, you want your family back, right?”

Zoe froze. Emotions long-buried rushed to the surface, flooding her, threatening to overwhelm her. How did this girl’s words carry so much weight? What was she?

“I don’t have a family,” Zoe said coldly.

“Exactly. But you did.”

“That was never-”

“There’s no point lying to me, Zoe,” the girl said. “I’ve seen everything. You, Gabriel, that creepy little clone of me. You want to be together again.”

Of course she wanted them to be together again. That had been the only time in her life when she’d ever been happy. That didn’t mean it was possible. Some bridges could never be un-burned.

“It’s never going to happen,” Zoe said.

“Ugh, you’re so frustrating,” the girl said, idly kicking at one of the dead humans. “You’re like a divorced couple, and creepy clone Alice is the child bouncing between you.”

If only.

“She made her choice.”

“You don’t understand the concept of joint custody?” the girl asked, her tone dripping with condescension.

For two centuries, Alice had bounced between them, though it had never seemed like her choice. She would venture out of the city limits, and whoever got to her first would take her home.

Had… had that been her choice? Did she ‘let’ herself get captured so she could move between the two of them? She always refused to talk about her time at Genesis…

Fine, but even if Alice still cared for both of them, Gabriel was another story. The two of them had spent too much time opposed, too much time trying to hurt each other, and there were some wounds that would never heal.

“He would never-”

“Wroooong.” The girl seemed frustrated, and a little distracted.

“Fine,” Zoe said, giving up on arguing. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you take a trip for me,” the girl said.

“What?”

“Specifically, there’s business I want you to attend to in Melbourne.”

Zoe baulked at the idea. Australia was notable for precisely one thing, and that was the only city that would never be recovered or restored. Melbourne was possibly the single most unpleasant place on the planet.

“Melbourne? In Australia? Why would I want to go there?”

“Well, you need the energy of the Tower.”

Zoe might not have been surprised, but she was appalled. Ever since the construction of the Tower, well before she was born, people had been trying and failing to harness it. Somehow capable of producing seemingly unlimited energy, every attempt to make use of that power had ended in ruin. After the Outbreak, everyone had collectively decided to just leave Melbourne alone for good.

“For what?” she asked. Fighting this girl seemed pointless.

“A failed experiment.”

“Failed?”

“I mean, it might work,” the girl said, shrugging. “You could probably figure it out. That’s not the point.”

Is this girl insane?

“You’re gonna need to give me more to go on than that,” Zoe said.

“Look,” the girl said, clearly exasperated. “If I give you too much information, you’ll mess it up. Besides, you’re more or less a genius. You can fill in the gaps.”

“And why would I listen to you at all?” Zoe asked, waiting for the catch. The girl wouldn’t have bothered starting the conversation if she didn’t have something more up her sleeve. She was too confident, and too outrageous, for anything else.

“Because I have this,” the girl said, reaching behind her and pulling out a stack of paper, seemingly out of thin air. She waved it in front of Zoe, just out of reach.

Even from a distance and in motion, Zoe’s eyes were capable of reading the visible contents of the pages. It was a list of names, and if the size of the stack was anything to go by, there were hundreds of thousands of them. Her heart caught in her chest.

“Is that…?”

“Yep. Every single one.”

That’s not fair.

“How?” Zoe asked, repeating the two dozen or so names she could read over and over in her head. She had an eidetic memory; those names would never leave her again.

“I’ll tell you, if you do what I say.”

“I… I’ll do it,” Zoe said, knowing she couldn’t possibly refuse. Nothing terrified her more than the contents of that list, but she needed to know. She needed to memorise ever name.

“Here’s what it’ll take, then. Go to Melbourne. Don’t tell Mason where you’re going, or why. I’ll provide you with the schematics. You build until they show up, then you stall for as long as you can. If everything works out…”

“You want me to get captured?” Zoe asked, realising the only possible ending to that scenario. Genesis would only send their Alpha team, the full Alpha team. That meant Gabriel, Ami, Haylie and XO. She couldn’t take all four of them, and they wouldn’t kill her.

“It won’t last,” the girl assured her.

“And if they kill me?”

“Gabriel would never let you die,” the girl said.

She’s right, Zoe thought. But how could she possibly know that? How does she know any of this?

“Why can’t I tell Mason?”

“Because I have other plans for him, and the less he knows, the better,” the girl replied, still exasperated. There was also a trace of venom in her voice.

“But he’s your father,” Zoe said.

“Don’t remind me.”

“What?”

The girl pulled a face, somewhere between confusion and contempt.

“You… you really love him, don’t you?” she asked.

“He’s my father, too.”

“Then I’m sorry,” the girl said, and she sounded genuine. “Say goodbye to him before you leave.”

“You’re going to-” kill your own father? she wanted to finish, but couldn’t get the words out.

“Yes.”

“That’s…” What could she say about that? “Okay. Is there anything else?”

“One more thing,” the girl said.

“Yes?”

“It would be better if you don’t remember any of this.”

“Remember what?” Zoe asked the air, unsure of where those words came from, or what they were in response to.

 

Next Week: Maybe Punching Someone Would Help

Step 5 – What Death Fears

Published by Snow on October 2, 2016

Melbourne, 2003 – 12 Years Before Impact Day

Roxie and Felix sat on the branches of a tall tree, watching the accident unfold. She’d seen dozens of deaths now, carried as many souls to whatever was waiting for them. She still felt the loss of each and every one.

“Does it ever stop feeling so tragic?” she asked, as a car pulled to a stop in front of a level crossing, waiting for the train to pass.

“Knowing what comes after helps,” Felix replied.

“The people they’re leaving behind don’t know,” Roxie pointed out.

A car was hurtling down the road, swerving slightly, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Loss is a part of the human experience,” Felix said.

The train was growing closer.

“Still, a family of four, all dead?” she asked.

“I’ll take the kids,” he said.

“Thanks.”

The swerving car collided with the back of the stopped vehicle, sending it lurching forwards, crashing through the barricade and onto the train tracks. The train’s horn blared, but it was far too late for it to stop.

The force of the collision sent the car flying forward, rolling and bouncing until it landed in a crumpled, smoking heap beside the tracks. The train was screeching to a stop, but there was nothing that could be done.

Roxie and Felix dropped from the tree, landing lightly on their feet, and approached the vehicle. Three spirits shimmered into existence around it. One must still be clinging to life, Roxie realised. Won’t be long now, though.

She approached the parents, a moderately attractive heterosexual Caucasian couple, with fair skin and brown hair. They acknowledged her approach with a mixture of confusion and relief. Carol and Jason Farrow.

“What happened?” Jason asked, his arm wrapped around the shoulder of his wife.

“Are we… dead?” Carol added, glancing back at the wreckage.

“Yes,” Roxie told them, her voice gentle and soft. “I’m sorry.”

“And the girls?” Jason asked, his voice pained.

“I’m so sorry. There was no-”

“STAY AWAY!” a child’s voice screeched, cutting her off. It sent a chill down her spine, and she looked over to Felix, who had already drawn his rapier.

Two girls, looking maybe six and four, were backed up against the car. The older one was standing in front of her sister, defiant and fierce.

“What the…” Roxie muttered.

“Charlotte, I’m sorry,” Felix said calmly. “It has to be this way.”

“No…” Jason said, staring at his daughters.

“Uh, maybe we should wrap this up,” Roxie said, feeling a sudden spike of anxiety.

“But our girls,” Carol said, hesitantly.

“We’ll take care of them,” Roxie assured her. “I promise.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Jason asked.

“Same thing that’s gonna happen to you. We’re going to take you somewhere safe, and everything will be fine.”

I mean, it’s mostly true.

“Heaven?” Carol asked.

“Yes,” Roxie lied.

Well, it wasn’t technically a lie. Hell basically served the same functions that people attributed to Heaven. The only reason it was called Hell was because… Actually, she didn’t know why it was called Hell. She knew it had about a dozen other names, but none of them were Heaven. There probably was a reason for that, but it didn’t seem important, or pertinent.

“Okay,” Jason said, squeezing Carol’s shoulder. She leaned into him, smiling.

Roxie summoned her scythe, collecting both of them in a single swipe. She could feel their sparks inside of her, and it was a comforting feeling. Every time she collected a soul, she felt connected to them, to the lives they’d once had, to her place in the universe.

“YOU. CAN’T. HAVE. HER.” the older child was screaming, and Roxie turned in time to see Felix actually take a step back. The girl scared him that much? Why?

“What’s going on?” Roxie asked, rushing to his side. As she got closer, she realised there was something different about the girl, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what.

“She’s… not dead,” Felix said, eyeing the girl warily.

“What? Then how can she-”

“I don’t know,” he said nervously.

“GO AWAY!” the girl shouted. There was weight behind her words, a force that even Roxie had to admit was a little frightening.

“There’s something wrong here,” Felix said. “She’s not human.”

“Her name is Charlotte, right?”

“Yes.”

Roxie approached the girl, letting go of her scythe. It vanished back into her, and Charlotte relaxed a little, but still stood protectively in front of her sister. Sadie.

“Charlotte, listen. It’s gonna be okay. We’re taking her somewhere safe. She’ll be looked after.”

“She’s staying with me,” Charlotte insisted.

“She can’t,” Felix insisted. “She’s dead. We can’t undo that.”

Charlotte folded her arms and shook her head. Her mannerisms were very much those of a child, but there was something else to them, something unnatural.

“I can still see her. I can still talk to her. She’s staying with me.”

“If she stays, she’ll get worse,” Felix told her. “She won’t be happy. She won’t be herself.”

“I’ll make her happy,” Charlotte insisted.

“It won’t be good for her, Charlotte,” Roxie said gently.

“You can’t take her,” Charlotte repeated, widening her stance. Roxie’s skin was crawling. Something was very, very off about this girl.

“Distract her,” Felix whispered, beginning to circle around her.

Bad idea, her instincts screamed, but she obliged. She had no choice.

“Charlotte, talk to me. Are you afraid to lose her?” she asked.

“I’m not losing her.”

“You have to say goodbye, Charlotte,” Roxie said, her heart breaking a little. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Charlie said.

Felix stood behind Sadie, on the other side to Charlie. He moved quickly, thrusting his blade into the girl’s chest. It was faster than Roxie had ever seen him move. Did fear motivate him that much?

It didn’t matter. However fast he was, the girl was fast. Charlotte whirled, grabbing his blade before it could touch her sister, stopping it. Fear burst forth onto Felix’s face, no longer concealed.

“What the-” he began, but she cut him off.

“MINE!” she shouted, the words booming out into the night.

With a single, savage movement, Charlotte grabbed the sword with her other hand, and snapped it in half. Roxie watched as Felix convulsed, as if his spine had been shattered, and he collapsed to the ground.

“Run,” he whispered.

Charlotte stood over him, cuts appeared all across her body. Blood flowed out of the wounds, circling around her, a gruesome aura that effectively doubled her size. Roxie could feel fury emanating from her in waves, and she was barely able to move.

Helpless, she watched as Charlotte picked up Felix, holding him in the air before snapping his neck and tearing him in half. She flung the two halves away from her, though they disintegrated in the air before getting very far.

Felix is dead. This girl, this thing, just killed a Reaper.

In that moment, she realized it wasn’t Charlotte she was looking at. There was something inside of her, something very dangerous, and very powerful, and very angry. Something Felix had just pissed off. If she wasn’t careful, it would kill her, too.

“What are you?” she asked it.

“DESTROYER,” it replied.

“Why are you protecting her?” Roxie asked, gesturing towards the other girl, tiny and terrified. “You’re not human. She’s not your sister.”

“CHARLOTTE LOVES HER,” it said.

“I need to-” Roxie began, but she was interrupted by the appearance of another young girl. Fair skin, lilac hair, deep purple eyes.

The girl from the hotel? Before I died?

“Don’t,” the girl said.

“Who are you?” Roxie asked, certain it couldn’t be the same person.

“The Child. You collected my soul,” the girl said.

“No, I didn’t”

“You will.”

“How?” Roxie asked, still staring at Charlotte, or the Destroyer, or whatever that thing was. It seemed content to simply stand over Sadie, protecting her.

“Time is weird for your kind,” the Child said. “And mine.”

“Your kind?” What are you?”

“Guardian,” the Child said.

“Which means…?”

“I outrank you. So listen to me, and run.”

“I can’t leave a soul here,” Roxie said, summoning her scythe. If she had to fight both of them, she would. Even if it meant ending up like Felix.

“You don’t have a choice,” the Child said.

“I can-” Roxie began, but the Child interrupted her.

“No, you can’t.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, one of a thousand questions racing through her mind.

“Protecting an investment,” the Child replied.

Roxie tried to move, but the Child was faster. Her movements were graceful, fluid, and completely inhuman. All it took was a single finger, placed on Roxie’s forehead, and everything around her faded to nothing. A blink of her eyes, and she realized she was back in the clearing, now in the midst of winter.

The souls of Jason and Carol Farrow had left her. Felix was gone. She lay there, staring up at the black and purple sky, snowflakes landing gently on her skin.

Who was Charlotte Farrow, really? What was she? And who was that girl?

If she was lucky, it would be a very long time before she had to see either of them again.

 

Next Week: Dead Girls Don’t Cry (Impact Day, Volume 2 begins!)

 

RoxieSo there you go! That’s the end of our 5 week hiatus, and the bonus story that filled the space. I hope you enjoyed it! It’s a bit weird, but it’s all important in the end.

Anyway, if you’ve enjoyed the story so far, consider supporting me on on Patreon, so I can afford to keep writing it. Additionally, you can buy the complete collection of Impact Day on Gumroad. It features a bonus chapter that I’m not releasing online! Also, you can get Roxie as a standalone purchase.

Next Week, Dead Girls Don’t Cry begins! It’s basically like Impact Day, only set earlier, and more full of personal drama and angst. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 40 – So That’s It, Then

Published by Veronica Marloe on April 4, 2016

“She’s Death,” Charlie said coldly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t fight her, not again.”

Again?

She moved, almost too fast for me to see. A blur of motion, and then…

Nothing changed. Charlie stepped back, her face set in grim stoicism. Except I couldn’t feel anything. No more wind, no more cold. There was no sound.

I looked down at my feet, and saw myself. Dead. Charlie had made it quick, at least. Painless.

“You can go,” the blue-haired girl said. Charlie nodded, almost as if she could hear. She leapt off the roof.

The blue-haired girl approached me, a gentle smile on her face. She reached out towards nothing, and then she was holding a scythe.

“Hello, Veronica.”

“You look ridiculous,” I blurted out. She looked surprised, then laughed.

“The scythe is a bit much, isn’t it?” she said. “I wanted to look the part, but I think it just ends up being silly.”

“You’re really Death?” I asked, feeling like it was the stupidest question in the world.

I’d never really thought much about death. I didn’t believe in any God, or the idea of having a soul. I didn’t believe in an afterlife. I figured, when you’re dead, you’re dead. That’s the end. That’s what makes like so precious.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Kind of,” she said. “I’m a Reaper. Not the only one. We collect souls, mostly.”

“For what?”

“To take you to Hell,” she said.

So that’s it? Just like that, I’m going to Hell? Some asshole decides I’m important, a psychopathic teenager with superpowers decides I need to die, and that’s that.

“Why?” I asked. “Is it the not believing thing? Did I break any rules? I mean, I wasn’t that bad of a person, was I?”

She smiled indulgently.

“Ah. I get this a lot. Look, it doesn’t work the way you think it does. The quick version is this: there’s no Heaven, Hell isn’t a punishment, everyone goes there.”

“So that’s it, then,” I said, staring at her in disbelief.

“Pretty much,” she replied with a shrug. “Look, it’s not as bad as you think. You just need a little perspective.”

Perspective? I wanted to wrestle that stupid scythe from her and beat her over the head with it. Instead, I took a deep breath.

“Then by all means, enlighten me. Can I still save my best friend?”

“Your best friend doesn’t need you to save her,” she said, dodging the question.

“So, no, then.”

“No,” she conceded. “Your time in this world is over. Time to move on.”

Time to move on? That was the line that was going to take me out of my mortal life, and into whatever comes next?

“And if I’m not ready?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost sounding sincere. “This is just how it goes.”

Just how it goes? I’m supposed to accept that?

No.

No, fuck you.

Behind her, a young girl materialised. Deep purple eyes, long lilac hair, the sort of insufferable grin that only ever looks normal on a child’s face. Clothing that could have been from a sci-fi show with a moderate budget.

“Not necessarily,” the girl interjected.

“What?” the Reaper said, turning around. She tensed up immediately when she saw the child. “Oh, no. Not you.”

“Always a pleasure, Roxie,” the child said, unfazed. I decided not to comment on the fact that Roxie was a disappointingly common name for a Reaper.

“Friend of yours?” I asked, my eyes darting between the two of them. Blue hair, purple hair, it was like something out of an anime. Except for the part where I was literally dead.

Wait, no, there was probably an anime about that.

“Something like that,” Roxie muttered. “Meet the very definition of cheating death.”

“You’re being overdramatic,” the girl accused her.

“Can you blame me?” Roxie retorted.

“Somebody please explain what is going on here,” I begged, “because this is starting to get ridiculous.”

The two of them stopped to look at me, then at each other. Roxie rolled her eyes.

“She can handle that, I think.”

“That’s probably for the best,” the child agreed.

“So explain, then,” I prompted.

The child smiled, sliding her hands into her pockets. The way she spoke, her body language, none of it seemed particularly childlike. After everything I’d seen, that didn’t surprise me in the slightest. She was probably the oldest of the lot.

“How about I put it this way instead,” she began. “Are you done with your life? Are you ready to leave it all behind? Are you satisfied with the impact you’ve made?”

What is this, a sales pitch?

“Of course not,” I said.

“That’s just the way things go,” Roxie interrupted, repeating herself.

“No, it isn’t,” the child said, calmly but assertively.

“Come on, don’t pretend you care about mortal lives,” Roxie snapped.

“I don’t,” the child agreed readily. “I care about the bigger picture. And I think she does too,” she added, gesturing towards me.

“She can’t even fathom the bigger picture,” Roxie argued.

“She will.”

“I’m still waiting for any of this to make sense,” I said sharply. The two of them could stand and bicker on their own time.

“Look,” the girl said, her expression suddenly very serious. “There’s a lot more going on than this pathetic little turf war.” She gestured around her.

“And there are already plenty of players on the board,” Roxie countered. “You don’t need more, Alice.”

What an appropriate name, I thought idly. Much better than Roxie.

“That’s not my name anymore,” the child said, bristling.

“It was when I came to collect your soul,” Roxie said, almost taunting the girl.

“Except you didn’t collect it.”

There was clearly a lot of tension between the two of them. A collector of souls and someone who apparently wasn’t all the way dead when they were supposed to be? Like it mattered. The only thing I was interested in was my own fate.

“Can we move this along?” I asked.

“Fine,” the girl said sharply. “I want to give you a chance to return to the world, and make a difference. In return, you need to make sure of a few things for me. Can you still do that?”

“Can I still save Sabrina?” I asked. It was the only thing I was capable of caring about. It was what had gotten me into this situation in the first place.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Then I’m in.”

“She’s lying,” Roxie said, and the girl glared at her.

“That’s enough out of you,” she said coldly. “You’re not needed here anymore.”

“No, I want to hear this,” I said. I was desperate, but I wasn’t stupid. If I was being tricked, I wanted to know.

“There’s not a damn thing you can do about your friend, Veronica,” Roxie said. “She’s beyond your influence. She’s beyond their influence.” She gestured towards the child.

“We don’t know that for sure, yet,” the girl replied, but didn’t deny it entirely.

“Explain,” I demanded.

“Veronica,” the girl began, “Sabrina isn’t… human, anymore. She’s…”

“This should be good,” Roxie muttered. The girl glared at her.

“Right now, she’s fighting a battle, with a power from another reality, and it’s going to consume her. There won’t be anything left of her.”

“No,” I said, my mouth moving before the thought had even formed in my head.

“No?” Roxie repeated, surprised.

“I’ll save her,” I said. “Somehow, I will save her.”

“Well, you can’t do that if you’re dead,” the girl said bluntly.

“Then I accept your offer, whatever conditions come with it.”

“You’ll regret this,” Roxie said.

“That’s fine,” I replied.

“You can leave us now, Roxie,” the girl said, her voice rich with condescension. “Veronica and I have a lot to talk about.”