Humour

13. (Something Like Life)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Something Like Life.

Life is strange here. I should absolutely hate it. No internet, no alcohol, and no company other than an old lady. But here I am, a few days in, finding the whole experience strangely peaceful. I eat bland but healthy meals with Mabel, then for the rest of the day I isolate myself in one of the many spare rooms and write. 

I never really thought about how much of my time is spent trying. Trying to find a job. Trying to find an agent. Trying to find inspiration. Trying not to fail. It’s exhausting, and ultimately it’s got me nowhere. None of those are really an option here. I have nothing but time and blank pages to fill.

Every day I’ve had texts from my friends. I think I’ve spoken to them more since coming here than ever before. Their concern actually makes me uncomfortable. I like to think of them as bastards, not caring individuals with my best interest at heart. 

This is weighed against the complete lack of communication from Steph. Nobody else has spoken to her either, so I could be anywhere for all she knows. For the first few days, this was the hardest part. Had I really been that much of a burden to her? Was she really glad that I was gone? Now I don’t care. What’s done is done. The only thing important now is my future.

I’m not much inclined for optimism, but I’ve hit rock bottom and it’s proven to be softer than I imagined. I know this sense of peace won’t last so I’m enjoying it while I can. I view it as a holiday, or a writing retreat. 

When was the last time I had a holiday? Not since I was eight. Our parents took us to Skegness for a week. I don’t exactly remember much, but we used to go there every year. After Dad died, Mum never took us anywhere. All I remember is the sea. I’ve not been to the seaside since.

My phone starts to ring. It’s a number I don’t recognise. My stomach lurches. I hope it’s a cold-caller. It isn’t.

“Hey, it’s Josh, Tommy’s cousin. I’ve just got back to the steel city. If you’re still wanting the job then come down to the store this afternoon and I’ll get you sorted.”

“Yes, I still need it. Cheers mate. I’ll see you soon.”

Fuck. Seems like my holiday is over. Reality is knocking. I knew this was coming, but I’d still hoped for a few more days of peace.

“Off into the big world now then?” Mabel grins over her mug at me after I explain the situation to her as we eat lunch. “You’ll be grand, don’t you worry.”

I’m not so confident. The job is one I dread, and even if I somehow don’t hate it I know I’ll manage to fuck up somehow. I always do. Not for the first time my thoughts whiplash back to the scratchcard. Blaming all of my problems on Pete would be disingenuous, but all the major life-changing ones were squarely on the bastard’s shoulders. Steph’s betrayal and the straight up theft of my only hope. Things would be different if I still had that damn card.

I finish up my cuppa and stand.

“Anyway, I’d best be off. It’s a long walk from here.”

“Nonsense,” Mabel says sternly. “Look at those clouds. You can’t walk all that way in the rain. You’ve got to make a good impression on a job interview. You don’t want to be all sweaty and wet.”

“It’s not really an interview and I already know the bloke.”

“That’s not the point. It’s all about showing willingness and pride. That’s what my Frank always used to say. I can’t have you turning up in a state. Frank would be spinning in his grave. Here.”

She holds out a crisp £10 note that had been tucked into her apron pocket. I stare at it for a moment then try and turn it away. Mabel is having none of it. She grabs my wrist with surprising strength and shoves the money into my hand. 

“Get yourself a taxi. Go on. I’m not one to take no as an answer.”

I offer her a smile and make a dramatic show of ringing the taxi company. A shrill voiced woman confirms the booking. 

“There you go. A taxi’s booked. You happy now? I was looking forward to the walk. I’ve not left the house since I got here. One might call it a prison.”

Mabel frisbees a digestive biscuit at my head with a quick flick of her wrist. Her smile belongs on a demon, not a granny.

“Ain’t nobody stopping you from wandering. You scared I’ll block you in and force you to the floor if you try? These frail bones are mighty intimidating, eh?”

“Heaven, no! A sweet old dear like you would never try to overpower me. It’s poison I worry about.”

She laughs like a hyena and I start to fear she might have a heart attack. Still laughing, she stands up to make the habitual trip to the kettle. 

There is a well worn path on the floor from her seat to the stove. The house is huge, but her entire life is encapsulated within the narrow zone between kettle, table, and bed. I can’t help but wonder if she’s really happy. She’s rich, wants for nothing, and has a cheerful personality, but her life seems so empty. 

I wasn’t lying when I said I was looking forward to the walk. I’ve never much liked cars. Walking is an excuse to avoid responsibilities for a little while, a time where there are no expectations beyond simply reaching your destination. Even I struggle to mess that up. With a taxi booked instead though, I’m now left with spare time that I don’t know how to spend. 

I’ll never admit it, but I’m too nervous to do anything productive. I know the job’s guaranteed. These nerves are for once entirely unrelated to the prospect of failure. They drip from the inevitability of the future, and from my pride and ego when the mirror of reality is held up to them. I can see the only available path clearly before me, but is no path the better option? Is life at any cost a life worth living?

Content that I’m trapped here for a little while, Mabel pours me another cup of tea. I feel more tea than man. This is the longest I’ve gone without an alcoholic drink in years. Good hydration, regular sleep patterns, and a diet not made up almost exclusively of junk. My body doesn’t know how to cope.

“It’s your first trip out since you got here. Any grand plans for after your meeting? A special lady who’s been lonely without you?”

I snort and almost choke on my tea. Madaline had never called me back, so that was that avenue closed off. My mind barely has a chance to settle on her though before it jumps to the purple-haired girl from the shop. I feel a strange pang thinking about her. Though this in turn only reminds me of the scratchcard and sends a spike of anger through me. I try to shake it off.

“No special ladies for me I’m afraid. You’ve got no competition for my time. You’re truly blessed.”

“A young man like yourself should be looking to settle down soon. That’s what I keep telling our Larry. Folk these days just don’t seem to want it.”

“Want’s not got a lot to do with it. The world’s different these days. Everything’s bigger. More open. You meet more people, and have people from across the world all vying for the same jobs. Even our expectations are bigger. If I managed to get a decent job and find someone who I wanted to live with, you can’t raise a family on a single income anymore. We’re all little fish thrown into the primordial ocean.”

Mabel nods sadly. “Yes. That’s basically what our Larry said too. I don’t envy you youngsters. My generation had hardships, terrible ones, but it all felt like it meant something, that we were working towards a better tomorrow. Somewhere along the way I think we all got very lost.”

I don’t answer. What can I possibly say? Things are fucked. But how much can we blame on the generations before us? I look at certain people in the generation below me and I see burning anger. A desire to actively change the world. They’re born knowing that society is broken and that the dreams we are force-fed are lies. But for us, we’re complacent. Too bought into the system to rebel, and too utterly tired to care. 

A horn beeps from outside. I give Mabel a smile as I stand.

“Well, that’s my ride. Philosophy will have to wait.”

“Good luck. Show them your worth!”

Previous – 12.

Next – 14.

7. (Something Like Life)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Something Like Life.

My brain drifts semi-consciously through memories as I lie here half asleep. I feel good for the first time in years and my mind brings me to the last time I had this feeling. Steph had just turned seventeen and was working every hour she could at a shitty waiting job to move away from our mother the second it was her eighteenth birthday. Things were tense at home. They always were. For all of the years there, I have so few memories that I can look back fondly on. 

But one day we saw a competition in one of Steph’s trashy magazines that wanted short stories. I can’t remember what it was about. Something nebulous and cliche like ‘Change’ or the like. It was ages sixteen plus and Steph brought it into my room and shoved the magazine in my face excitedly. She had the idea for me to write something up and for her to submit it in her name since I was too young to enter. That was probably the first and last time she ever had faith in my ability to win something. 

The first place prize was £100. To us that was a fortune. Steph stroked my ego about how good my writing was, and finally convinced me to sacrifice a few evenings after school to draft up a piece about letting go of the past to embrace the future or some bollocks like that. When it was finished, Steph added in a few words and phrases that she said were essential for teen girl magazines, then she posted it and we waited. In the end we didn’t win, but we did manage to snag second place for a nice £50.

To me, we may as well have won the Lottery. I’d never seen that much money. Even to Steph it was a hefty amount, at least for the level of work that went into getting it. We didn’t let Mum know we had it. We’d not have seen a penny if we had. I kind of expected to be handed a tenner and for the rest to be put into Steph’s savings. But she surprised me.

In a rare showing of reckless rebellion, she managed to buy some vodka and wines without getting ID checked. She took me out to the woods near my school. It was the first time I ever got drunk, and even through the awful sickness and even worse hangover afterwards, I still remember that evening. It was probably the last time I saw Steph happy, at least in that carefree childhood way. She’d been happy on the day we moved out into our own place, but that had been the birth of adult Steph with bills to pay and full-time employment. 

It was such a good party for just the two of us, something fun we could share. We bought ice cream and chocolate with the spare money, which in hindsight was a poor choice to mix with alcohol, and Steph had brought out her bright pink CD player and a few discs. 

We talked about our dreams for the future, sang along with shitty 90’s pop, and laughed until we were in tears. I think Mum was close to murder when we got back, but thankfully I can’t remember a thing of the aftermath. Maybe she’d been strung out on some drug or other and never even noticed we’d been gone. Whichever it was, Steph had shielded me from it like usual. 

I guess money can buy you happiness. We’re certainly overdue some. Things will change now. I smile at the thought, then slip fully into pleasant dreams.

Previous – 6. (Something Like Life)

Next – 8. (Something Like Life)

Chapter 6. A Shelter of Hope. (A Rubber Ducky at the End of the World)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Life is an act. An individual’s outward personality is nothing but a mask forged to garner acceptance in a world without truth. 

Damian knew this all too well. Everything in his life was an act. Working in fast food as he had, the number one commandment had been to always smile and be polite to customers even when 90% of the time they deserved a round of apple bobbing in the deep fat fryers. Life was miserable, and the job eroded any faith in humanity, but you kept smiling and said what people wanted to hear despite the truth of the matter.

This is true for all aspects of life. A common greeting is to ask how one another are doing, but it would be a breach of social etiquette to actually express any real feelings of sadness. Life was about putting on a strong front. 

When his wife had died and he had been left to care for a small child, everyone constantly asked him how he was coping. The answer was always ‘fine’ despite the darkness and hopelessness of his thoughts. His love was gone, his child would never know a mother’s love, and he was struggling to make ends meet. But he had to be strong. There was no other path to take.

Gods were much the same way. They were mental shields of strength designed to fortify the inherent weakness of humanity. Men needed gods to guide them. The Bible had got that right at least. Humans were sheep, too stupid to choose the right directions without somebody to show them the way and stop them from straying. 

Flames burned brightly, illuminating the darkness of night. A whole block of flats would be nothing but ash and rubble by the morning. That was the fate of any who opposed Damian Smithson. That was the price of order.

“All resistance has been quelled,” reported a dark-skinned man with greying hair. “Twelve dead. Eighteen came over to our side. Another six fled the scene.”

Damian nodded. “Good. I take it that none of our men were hurt too badly. The plan was as foolproof as humanly possible under the circumstances. It would all be so much easier if they just listened to me and joined us without a fight.”

“Humans love to be led but they’ll never make it easy. We are a people of contradictions. We are ever changing yet are so resistant to any change that they will drag their feet every step of the way. It will get easier.”

“Too easy I fear,” Damian sighed. “Tell me Jonathan, what gives you the faith to keep moving forward? You are a man of belief belonging to the Church of Redemption yet you follow a man who seeks to destroy the very foundation of your being. Why?”

“You can destroy the church and all organised religion if you wanted to but you cannot destroy belief itself. What I think and feel in my soul cannot be altered by you. Besides, your heart is in the right place. Like our Lord, you strive to be the father to humanity and guide us to a better future. Sometimes that requires unpalatable actions.”

Damian considered these words carefully. He had never considered himself a leader but here he was now. No point slowing down or doubting himself. It is amazing what humans can achieve against the odds with nothing more than a blinding confidence in themselves.

His thoughts were interrupted by a young man who came rushing to his side. The boy had been a delinquent from one of the previous gangs that Damian had dealt with who had seen the error of his ways. He was a good kid now that he had some motivation.

“Sir, I just spoke with some of the local lads. The only other major group in the area is a bunch of women. They say that all the women joined up and took over a school campus a few miles from here. Everyone who’s tried to break in has been beaten back.”

“Good for them. That is the kind of attitude that should be applauded,” Damian told them with a satisfied nod.

“Should I gather everyone up ready to pay them a visit?” 

“We are not conquerors and nor is the world our enemy. We should praise such groups, not march upon them in force. I shall go alone to speak with them.”

Jonathan nodded his head. “What are your orders for the rest of us?”

“Secure the area and comfort what people remain here. Begin the usual changes.”

“Sir,” the older man answered before leaving. 

Now Damian was alone. His Amelia was back at the church with an elderly woman who had reared five children of her own. Damian had no doubts that he could protect his baby but there was no reason to subject her to potential danger or the sight of death. He wanted her to grow up happy in a kinder world.

With that ambition firmly in his mind he set off toward the school that the locals now knew as the Shelter. He had always had a good sense of direction and found his way easily through the destroyed streets to the outskirts of the town where a collection of buildings sat huddled together a short way away from any other structure.

The area around the gated compound was in ruins but the school buildings themselves looked fairly undamaged. Damian approached the gate at a carefree pace then waited in front of them. At first nothing happened but after a few minutes the doors to the largest building opened and a group of women started to head towards him.

“Why are you here?” asked a dark haired woman when the group arrived at the other side of the gate. She was stocky but had fair skin and wrapped dignity around herself like a cloak. “Men are not welcome.”

Damian considered the woman’s words and offered her a small smile. “A fair policy during these troubled times. It will not help to rebuild society though. Humanity must stand together, not become divided over such trivial things as gender. It is what is inside of us that counts, not that which lies between our legs.”

“We will not support any rebirth of society based upon patriarchy. Men have caused all of the world’s problems throughout history so now we will make our stand,” the woman announced passionately. Some of the other women nodded their agreement.

Damian frowned. He had not expected this. He didn’t really understand it either. Sure, men were bastards who would kill you in a heartbeat and couldn’t think past money and sex for long in too many cases, but women were no better. Men tended to know that they were simple creatures and were happy enough to acknowledge it while women wrapped themselves in denial.

“You attribute so much evil to us but most men just try to get by, earning enough money to support their families.”

“Support? More like enslave,” she spat. “They tell us that we are weak and stupid then make us reliant upon them. Men cage us in marriage then use us to cook meals, rear children and have sex with. All men are oppressors, no matter how noble they believe their intentions to be.”

Damian was at a complete loss now. How did you reason with people like this? The scientific method to do so is that you simply can’t. Once again, these people’s personal reality supersedes the universal reality and cannot be shaken by such petty things as evidence or logic.

A slow fire had begun inside of Damian that took him by surprise. He was angry. He had worked hard all of his life in a job that he hated to pay for his ill mother’s care home, support his wife and then to bring up his daughter. If he was going to be vilified for trying his hardest to be a good man then he would give them something to vilify him for. 

Fiery sparks began to spiral in the centre of his palm until the appearance of yet another woman like a valkyrie from the skies caused him to cut them off abruptly.

“What is going on here?” the new woman asked with all the authority that the words could hold. “Fay, you have been told to report to me when outsiders arrive.  You’ve tried to go behind my back too many times. Go back inside and wait for me in my office while I speak with our guest.”

“He will only bring us trouble,” sneered the first woman

“Now!” snapped the newcomer. The group of women reluctantly turned and made their way back up the path to the building.

Anyone who believes that human society automatically veers toward patriarchal rule has clearly never seen a ‘mother hen’ type woman in action. Her word is law and some cosmic force ensures that everyone obeys. Men might seem outwards in charge but it is only the barbeque effect. Have you noticed that, in most cases, it is the women who cook 99% of the family meals but when it comes down to cooking meat outside on an open flame that it is suddenly the men who take charge? Men like to look powerful and in charge to fulfil their masculine ego when it is a public occasion then are happy to sit back and let someone else do all the important stuff. Rulers work in much the same way, appearing as figureheads while secretaries and advisors wield the real power.

The woman was short and had frizzy hair. She looked like she should have worn glasses, but then glasses were pointless after the Change. She wore jeans and a jumper that both appeared undamaged.

“Sorry about that,” the woman said. She began to open the gate. “We don’t get many peaceful men come here. At least, I hope you are peaceful or you will regret it.”

Damian held up his hands placatingly. “I’m here to talk, nothing more.”

“Good. I am Julie Winters. You could say that I run this place.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Damian Smithson. I lead Redemption, the largest group in this area.”

Mrs Winters nodded. “Yes. I have had word of your organisation’s progress. You have achieved much in such a short time. I expect that you are far from finished through.”

She led Damian inside the building. The place still looked clean and orderly compared with the outside world. Tables and chairs had been moved and hastily arranged bedding filled several of the old classrooms. The women who moved around the corridors were not scared refugees seeking shelter but confident and in control. Damian was impressed.

He was shown into a small office containing two chairs, a desk, and pile upon pile of paperwork. Mrs Winters took the seat behind the desk and motioned for Damian to take the other. She took a small notebook from one pile and opened it up, a pen in her hand held like a cobra ready to strike.

“Please ignore the mess,” she told him. “Keeping track of supplies and who is doing what has proven to be a huge part of my recent life. You don’t realise how much space all of that data takes up without computers.”

 Damian sat and tried to look at ease. He felt uncomfortable here but couldn’t let it show. He couldn’t look commanding either though. 

In as friendly a voice as he could manage he slipped into salesman mode. “You have done well for yourselves here,” he began. “This is an island of calm in a raging ocean of chaos and death. May I ask what your plans are?”

Mrs Winters sighed faintly. “We are undecided. This place was set up as a sanctuary for people to come to and feel safe. Many here see no reason to alter anything so long as we are able to continue offering safety.”

“Tell me, do you believe that humans are fundamentally good?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you think that humans are good at heart and are driven to do evil by circumstance or are they flawed, selfish beings? Nature versus nurture?”

The woman frowned and was silent for a while. When she made no sign of answering Damian continued.

“What I am asking is: do you believe that if we leave the people outside of these walls to their own devices that they will pull together and end the violence or continue to rampage until the world is too damaged to recover? Can humanity walk the correct path without a shepherd to guide them?”

To be honest, nature versus nurture is a flawed human concept. Good and evil only exists to humans. Every other creature on the planet only does what is needed to survive. As babies, humans are selfish sacks of meat that scream and cry for its needs to be fulfilled and this continues as a toddler. They snatch other’s toys and throw tantrums to get their own way. Cruelty, honour, mercy and hate are all distinctly human traits. It doesn’t matter either how good a person is as they are only ever two meals, (or two cups of tea in England), away from breaking down and stabbing someone thirty seven times in the chest.

Mrs Winters fixed unwavering eyes onto Damien. “I suppose that things won’t get better without people trying. Society needs to be led. I assume that you feel that it is you who should be this leader?”

This was the moment. Damian’s next words would determine the future of the world. He didn’t know this. To him it was the balancing point in securing more allies but it affected so much more than he could ever have guessed.

“When the Changed happened I became stronger than those around me. Not only in my body but in my conviction of making this world a good place for my daughter to grow up in. She is my world. I didn’t want any of this, I was a struggling widow working in fast food, but I was given the power to make a change. To not use that power would be the real sin.”

“Are you a religious man, Mr Smithson?”

Damian laughed softly. “I am just a man. I believe that which I can apply logic to. Sadly, religion and logic do not see eye to eye. God is fundamentally a contradiction of himself, not to mention all of the contradictions in the Bible. How could God be all powerful yet choose to let people suffer? He would not be all loving in that scenario. Why pray to Him when, being all knowing, He would already know everything in your heart and head so would not need you to tell Him? Why do you ask?”

“Some would see you as chosen,” Mrs Winters said slowly. “That perhaps you are destined to greatness. By God or by Satan, somebody must have blessed you. Either way, let’s not beat around the bush. What do you want from us?”

“Want? It isn’t really a question of wants. It is a need. Humanity needs us to work together. Your group is the last collection of people in this town that haven’t pledged themselves to me. Can you imagine how rare a unified area is right now? I don’t ask for your loyalty, but for your cooperation.”

Mrs Winters watched him closely as he spoke. Damian felt uncomfortable under that calm scrutiny. He had grown used to anger and abuse. That was something he could deal with. Reasonable people felt much more intimidating these days.

“I sense a lot of darkness in you, Mr Smithson. You have a great gift, and we both know that you’ll use it violently. There will be a lot of blood on your hands by the end.”

Damian nodded, keeping his own eyes fixed on his thin hands. They were hands that had killed men, but then they were the same hands that comforted Amelia. 

“Great good demands great sacrifice. Somebody has to do it. Every drop of blood on my hands, and every bit of extra weight on my soul, is one less burden for the children that follow in the path we carve for them.”

Mrs Winters seemed to stare into his soul, assessing the damage it had already sustained. A kettle began to whistle from a small fire that burned in the corner. Only then did the woman look away. As she busied herself pouring out two cups she spoke slowly.

“I am willing to listen to what you have to say. Just know that we will not be bullied or threatened. I’d rather see humanity die out than build a society on the subjugation of the women in my care.”

“That is a fair stance to take. Let us begin then.”

Previous – Chapter 5. An Electrifying Transition.

Next – Chapter 7. A New Look.

3. (Something Like Life)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Something Like Life.

Corgi is already outside waiting for me. I sometimes wonder where he goes when he’s not with me. He never really mentions his home or family, though I know he has them. He feels almost like a side character in my life, always waiting on the sidelines for somebody else to appear. Maybe I should ask him. I know he hasn’t been having an easy time recently.

“You linger like a bad smell,” is what I end up saying though.

“Yeah, and your attitude stinks, so that’s probably why we get along.”

I snort and give him the middle finger, which he returns like a patriotic salute. I start down the road and he trots behind me to catch up. Even at this time the streets are busy. The sky is black and a fine drizzle hangs in the air, but city life never slows. I notice that most of the beggars are gone though. I wonder where they go when crowds die down and the nights set in. 

I take the path that I’ve walked so many times I could retrace it with my eyes closed. It’s a good job too, because coming back I’m usually so far gone that I might as well be blind. We don’t really talk as we walk. Most of our store of conversations had been drained during the morning. Thankfully, it isn’t long before we’re back in the shadow of the Wetherspoons.

Larry and Toto are already waiting for us inside. They’re sitting at the same table we had occupied hours earlier. The place is much busier now. Steak nights always draw in a good crowd. I slump into the chair beside Toto while Corgi goes to the bar to get us drinks. Again, I vaguely wonder where he gets his money from, but know I’ll never bother to ask him. 

“You are looking well, all things considered,” Toto tells me. “I worry about you at times.”

“Life is just the interconnecting tissue between moments of misery. I accept that, so have no reason not to live it to the fullest. YOLO and all that bollocks, you know?” I answer with a smile that rivals Toto’s. “Alcohol is just the mortar to fill in the cracks in that confidence.”

“To be fair mate, that sounds like something an alcoholic would say,” Larry quips.

“An alcoholic probably wouldn’t have the coherency required to articulate philosophical theories regarding the ephemeral nature of existence,” I answer, my brain working in overdrive to pull out the most pretentious chain of words possible and speak them without fucking up. My brain fails me on most things, but any attempt to be a dick usually succeeds with flying colours.

“That’s proper good mate. It’s almost like you should be a poet or something.”

“Fuck you.”

It’s at this moment Corgi returns, placing an orangish pitcher down in front of me.

“What the fuck’s this?”

“It’s a cocktail. Sex on the Beach. The bar lady recommended it.”

“Corgi, under no circumstances do I ever want to drink cocktails with you, let alone one named Sex on the Beach. Sex is the last thing I want to think about when I see your face. And why would you ever do it on a beach? Sand gets everywhere. That’s real uncomfortable. I can only imagine it’s like tossing off with sandpaper. Awful. So why have you put these thoughts in my head?”

“Because it’s fruity and filled with alcohol.”

I take a sip and it is indeed very sweet and filled with alcohol. I shrug and drink more. “Fair enough.”

Larry leans across the table and lowers his voice. “How’s Steph doing? I heard she’s been ill.”

“You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer to the balls. I want you to take any thoughts in your head involving my sister and thoroughly wash them away with bleach.”

“Hey, I’m only asking. It’s not like you care.”

“I care by association.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that I don’t care what she or you do in your own lives, but I don’t ever want to imagine anything involving either of you, let alone together. I have enough nightmares as it is. I’m pretty sure that she finds you disgusting though, so thankfully I don’t really have to worry about it.”

“That’s harsh.”

“The truth hurts. What can I say? It’s only the flu, so don’t worry your little head about it, okay?”

“You just don’t like to see people being happy.”

“True enough. I wouldn’t surround myself with miserable bastards like you lot if I did. Except Toto. His outlook is as bright as your pasty skin.”

“And your thoughts are as dark as mine,” Toto adds merrily. “Yet somehow you gather people around you like a mother hen. Fate laughs at your attempts to push people away.”

“Yeah? Well fate can take a long walk off a short pier. Let’s not get the wrong idea here, I don’t hang around you for your optimism or company. You just make good food and are generous with your portion sizes. It’s purely a selfish, one way relationship.”

Toto just laughs and drains his drink. He isn’t wrong though. Somehow it’s me that holds this little group together. None of the others knew each other before me. I’m the common denominator. I guess that shows how desperate they all are if I’m the best option to spend time with.

“Tink say’s he’ll meet us at the house. He’s heading there with his brother,” Corgi says into the lull between banter. He has his phone in one hand and the cocktail pitcher in the other. “He expressly states that nobody is to cause trouble.”

“I wonder why he felt the need to specify that?” I say innocently. “At no point have I ever started a fight when Tink has invited us to these little gatherings.”

“You did draw a dick on that fancy painting when we were at his uncle’s BBQ. I’m pretty sure you spent most of his cousin’s wedding reception flirting with the bride.”

“Look, this is an invitation from little Po, and frankly, I’m not going to do anything to get on his bad side. I’ll be on my best behaviour. Scouts honour.”

“You were never in the scouts.”

“No. And from what I read in the news, they don’t have much honour, so it all works out in the end.”

“Touché.”

Previous – 2.

Next – 4.

Chapter 4. A Flock of Faithful. (A Rubber Ducky at the End of the World)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Some of you by now might be wondering why certain people were changed more dramatically than others. Why can Peace Lenrow withstand attacks that crippled others and tear through toughened flesh like tissue? Why can Damian Smithson create beams of energy? 

The answer is more simple, (or infinitely more complicated depending on your outlook), than you would ever think. The universe needs to get its shit together. Everything in existence is just so random that it only offers the visage of order. Mutated genes lead to evolution, taking a single cell and turning it into every animal and insect on the planet. Even in humans, random traits manifest themselves without explanation. One person can naturally remember every single thing they have ever read, seen or done while another could develop muscle at an accelerated rate. Someone else could be unable to move at birth or be inclined to gain excess fat.

So people like Peace and Damian are simply genetic abnormalities. This story could have been focussed on someone else but then, it wouldn’t be a very interesting story, would it? We are following these two individuals in particular because they are the centre points of upcoming events. They are the right people in the right place at the right time. 

I suppose there was also the dog that single handedly, er pawedly, saved Africa from aliens during this time, but let’s not confuse things that much just yet.

For you see, things were moving quickly for the people of Earth. Society cannot be destroyed as easily as some people believe. View society as water. It can change and flow, even become ice or steam, but no matter how much you break it down, it will always pool into small groups that seek to become larger until the whole is once again reformed. Humans hate other humans yet cling to them for survival.

Groups had begun to emerge from the chaos that individuals flocked to for protection. Only, these groups then proceeded to fight one another in larger battles for control of lands or resources. This is how countries are forged and are usually viewed by historians as jolly exciting times.

One such group had made its home inside an old church that had been, rather redundantly, barricaded and fortified. This is the building where an empire began. As we look upon it we see Damian Smithson approaching the grand doors alone. At least, alone beside the giggling baby that was fastened into a harness on his chest.

He knocked on the door, careful to limit his strength and not damage the wood. It didn’t open. Instead a voice called out from within. 

“Begone. These are the holy grounds of the Church of Redeemers. None may walk these hallowed halls without the Lord’s blessing.”

“And how would I gain your Lord’s blessing?”

“By worship, good deeds and a charitable donation to our organisation.”

 “How is the amount deemed enough?”

“Sorry?”

“How much should I pray? How many good deeds should I accomplish? What good deeds could I even do as a single man in a world of chaos. How much money should I donate when money has become so devalued that it is all but worthless?” 

Damian received no answer for several long seconds. “Erm…” started a voice before it trailed off. Hushed voices were just audible behind the door. More seconds passed.

Eventually the voice returned. “Look, just go away. We don’t want to let you in. Okay?”

Damian sighed. “That is such a shame. I quite liked this door. So much hard work must have gone into making it while such little effort will go into destroying it. That is the way of the world though I suppose.”

He placed the palm of his hand on the door and pushed. Metal screeched, stone broke away and wood buckled. The door collapsed inwards, revealing the interior of the church and two dozen or so faces torn between shock and anger.

“You will suffer for this sacrilege!” screamed a grey haired man in robes of white and gold. They were not the clothes of any position in the church that Damian knew of but sought to surpass even the Pope in their pompous grandeur.  

“I suspect that we all will suffer before the end,” Damian said softly. He looked the white clad man directly in the eyes as he spoke.

Damian looked unimpressive compared to most of the men within the church. He was still scrawny and dressed like a paperpusher even now. He had thick glasses, thinning blond hair and a baby on his chest. What was not so visible obvious though was that in the two weeks since the Change, Damian had been training. He had pushed his body to heights that would have destroyed his old self. In such a short time there were few physical signs of this but he carried himself with a strength and dignity that he had never known in his life before.

“You heretic! Infidel! How dare you break into my sanctuary! I am the Grand Redeemer and I will not accept such blatant disrespect. You will be scourged from this world in the holy fires of redemption!” screeched the man, self-importance filling his every word.

“You mean like this?” Damian asked. He held out his hand. There was a spark then a blazing fire appeared in his grip.

The Grand Redeemer, (who was actually a stamp critic called Dave Smeg. Tragic, I know. With a name and occupation like that he was never going to be a balanced individual), stammered and gawped. He recovered amazingly fast though.

“You hold no sway here, conjuror. Your black magic of Hell passed to you by Satan does not intimidate me!”

Damian considered this. “Fires of Hell? Are they not pure enough for you?”

The flames grew fiercer until they burned with a blinding white light. Everyone in the room besides Damian covered their eyes from the painful glare. Amelia giggled happily and reached out a tiny hand toward the flames. The light faded, dulling back down to a gentle amber flame.

“This is what is going to happen,” Damian announced as the men began to lower their arms and reopen their eyes. “Your little group here represents the closest thing to order in this area. Society needs order, now more than ever. You are going to help me to spread this order.”

The Grand Redeemer sneered in a way that twisted his already ugly face. “Order is but a byproduct of our true ambition. The End is nigh and we must use what time we have left to spread the word and mercy of God!”

Damian shook his head. “About that. The whole religious angle is not in the world’s best interest. Religion has caused so much conflict throughout human history that it would be a poor decision to build a new society upon its back.”

A woman stepped forward who had kept well back before now. She was a stout woman with rough skin, the kind of woman you see in working class backgrounds who work all hours of the day to keep their family, community and the world in general running.

“But what about all the good that the church has ever done? The charity work and support? The hope that we give people?”

“But what about all the good that war has ever done? The advances in technology and medicine? The removal of corrupt regimes?” Damian replied calmly. “Do they make war a good thing?”

“That is not the same!” 

“I believe to the contrary. 

We have already witnessed what happens when common sense is ignored. Sometimes though, human stupidity extends beyond the simple breach of common sense and into the realms of downright objection to the survival instincts. Those people with fervent beliefs, whatever the beliefs may be, are unable to see past those beliefs at the bigger picture of the tiny picture of their own life.

“You have revealed yourself to be a Godless sinner!” Grand Redeemer Smeg howled. “The Lord will smite you down! It shall be me who rebuilds this world, not you, demon! I-AAAAARRRRRRGGGH!”

His ranting was cut short as his eyes burst into flames, which quickly erupted across his body. His skin melted and his bones cracked until only ash remained inside the robes. The robes themselves were completely undamaged.

“The name is Damian, not demon. Easy mistake to make,” Damian told the smouldering human remains in a level voice. He turned back to the others. “Sorry about that. He wouldn’t listen to reason. So, does anybody else have any issues with me taking command here?”

There was a brief moment of silence as the men and women shared horrified looks with one another.

“No, boss. No issues at all. Lead on.”

“Good,” Damian muttered. “Let us begin then. This world will not rebuild itself.”

Previous – Chapter 3. A Brave New World.

Next – Chapter 5.

Chapter 1. (Thorns of the Shadow: The Taste of Lead and Lightning)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Heat rolled in shimmering waves across every surface. The sun hung proudly in a cloudless sky above. It was the kind of day that seemed to drag on and seep the energy from the world. 

On a suburban street, in a house like every other upon it, a young woman sat slouched across a sofa where she had been for the past few hours without moving. She was called Catherine Redthorn, but prefered to go by KT. Her black hair ended half way down her back and she had an athletic build that was currently clad in black jeans and a simple white vest. A few scars marked her arms but many more lay hidden in a chaotic pattern across her torso.

On the other end of the sofa was the sprawled out shape of her twin brother, Mordekai,  known better as Kai. He was taller and broader than his sister but shared her green eyes and love of dark clothing. He too bore scars, as did their mother and father, but nothing near to the level that punctuated KT’s skin.

To the best of the Redthorn family’s memories, they had been visiting the twin’s Aunt Susan up in Scotland when her guest lodge had suffered a gas leak which resulted in a terrible explosion. It had killed several of the guests, including Susan, and left the survivors with varying degrees of injuries.

Only, that was not what had happened. The truth was darker and near unbelievable. KT remembered it all too well. She remembered being attacked by a succubus, meeting the mysterious hunter Déaþscúa, and returning to find the lodge in flames, her mother crucified, and the other guests gone without a trace. She remembered herself and Kai fighting alongside Déaþscúa and meeting vampires, werewolves and witches. She remembered coming so close to ending the life of the infamous Black Annis when the Grand Moot, the magical equivalent to the government, arrived and stopped them. Déaþscúa had been arrested and KT, Kai, and the surviving lodge guests had had their memories altered.

Unfortunately for the Grand Moot though, nobody had informed them that KT was a Resistant, someone with a strong resistance to the effects of magic. Her real memories had returned after only a few hours. Not that anybody would have believed her if she had spoken out.

The television droned on about politics in the corner of the room. Nobody was really watching it but the remote had been left in the kitchen and nobody could muster the energy to go and get it. The sound passed KT by without notice until a single word snagged at her attention.

“That’s right, Clair. We are currently live here in Scotland where local businessman and entrepreneur, Roger Golman has announced his intention to stand in the Parliamentary elections. Golman had begun to make a name for himself in the international business world until a suspected terrorist attack on one of his compounds left him in hospital for much of this last year. Now he has returned to the public view and is already gaining considerable support.”

The screen was showing footage of a tall man in his late twenties with short black hair and an expensive suit addressing a crowd. His features were slightly on the pudgy side but he wore confidence like a second skin. His voice took over where the reporter’s had left.

“I have seen the best of humanity, and the worst. It is my dream te change the world and te help create a society that is not weighed down by crime, greed and corruption. This is but a first step on my mission to forge a better future for us all.”

KT couldn’t help but to snort at the words. Everything that the man said was bullshit. He was nothing more than an overambitious criminal. After a moment she amended this since all politicians were nothing more than overambitious criminals. Golman had sided with Black Annis for personal gain and had captured and abused the vampire, Ailia. The ‘terrorist attack’ in the report had been none other than KT and Kai breaking in to free Ailia. His hospitalisation had been Ailia’s parting gift to him. KT still shivered to remember that moment.

“I didn’t realise that you were so invested in politics that you could look so disgusted when one speaks,” her father said with a smile. Bob Redthorn was an easy going man who was quick to smile and slow to anger. He had dark hair, wore glasses and had a slender build.

“Bah! They’re all the same,” interjected Kai. “Politics, made up of the word ‘poly’ meaning multiple and the word ‘tics’ meaning blood-sucking parasites. Still, there’s something about that guy’s face that just pisses me off. He’s a businessman so you know he’d slit his own granny’s throat for a quick fiver.”

“Disgusting,” their father agreed. “You can’t buy anything with a fiver anymore. I’d struggle getting a Freddo and a bottle of Coke in this economy. Greedy green bastard. If you raised it up to a tenner we might have a deal though.”

It was nice to see him return to his usual self again. After the events of the new year that lead to his sister’s death, Bob had sunk into a darkness that KT had never seen before. The physical recovery had been hard for all of them, but the mental healing had taken much longer. Luckily the arrival of summer had done wonders for everybody’s mood.

“Stop casualising moral corruption. Kai doesn’t need the encouragement,” added their mother, Tara. Unlike Bob, she was a strong, stern woman with little time for nonsense. She had blonde hair and always wore smart clothes. Unlike the other members of the Redthorn family though, her injuries still affected her day to day life, leaving her weaker than she would have liked. The holes in her palms where she had been nailed to a cross rendered her hands near useless and her new reliance on others hurt her far more than any of the wounds to her flesh had managed. 

“Your words cut me deep,” Kai said with mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that I am a pillar of this community and a paragon of virtue.”

Tara raised her eyebrow. “Oh. You mean how you help all those poor young women with their studies? It is all for the good of their education and not for anything more selfish.”

“Those are some bold allegations there. If my irresistible charm clouds their concentration then I cannot be held responsible for that.”

KT couldn’t help but smile at the friendly banter. It felt good to hear everyone happy and carefree. The problem was that she felt like she was in a bubble that separated her from her family and friends now. Her memories prevented her from relaxing. While she sought the peace and happiness of normality, a greater determination pulled at her. How could she go back to regular life after killing men and monsters, meeting immortals and fighting at the centre of bloody battles that nobody else even knew had happened?

‘Such connections are worthless. Do not concern yourself with fitting in but with rising above your surroundings.’

The internal voice cut through her own thoughts roughly. She smothered it out with a practiced ease. The voice belonged to Ghodot, the former king of the fairies. He had tried to possess KT’s body in exchange for passage through a faegate but KT’s resistance to magic had meant that he had been the one to fade instead. Now he was little more than an annoying voice in her head. The intrusion upon her thoughts was frustrating enough but the fact that he could see and feel everything that she could, as well as being privy to her own thoughts, made him insufferable.

The trouble was that everything had begun and ended so suddenly that she could almost mistake it all for a vivid dream. Only her scars and memories told her different. She had not wanted it to end. She had had no choice in the matter though. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake the feeling that she belonged in that world more than her own. 

Kai and her parents were still bickering good-naturedly so she decided to get up and try to clear her head. She wandered upstairs into her room and just stood staring at the space that had once been the core of her life. It seemed so hollow now.

Her shelves filled with fantasy books no longer held an escape from reality but as a reminder of what she had left behind. The same applied to her DVD and video game collection too. Only music helped her to lose herself now. 

She wandered into the bathroom, connecting her phone to the speakers on the shelf, then scrolled through the vast library of music without anything particular in mind. Tapping the screen at random, a heavy drumbeat echoed through the small room.

Showering had become much more difficult with the fairy making lecherous comments in her head, but she had grown accustomed to washing with her eyes closed. Efficiency was the aim of the game. Almost everything in her life followed that principle now.

‘When will you accept that I am a part of you, girl? We are one. Why hide from me?’

‘I’ll accept it when I can finally block you out of my mind.’

‘Ah, so cold. But we work so well together. The unmolded clay of your body combined with my unparalleled intellect. Just let me take over and all of your problems will fade away like mist.’

‘The last time you spoke of things fading away it didn’t quite go to plan, did it?’

Ghodot became silent. For all his talk of grandeur and power he tended to pout like a child. Enjoying the brief respite from his incessant comments, KT washed then dressed herself in jogging trousers and a t-shirt. She already felt sticky again from the humid air.

“Since when did England get this kind of heat? A bit of rain would be wonderful.”

‘The air feels… constrained. Something is building.’

‘Climate change?’

‘Magic.’

Ghodot would say no more. Months of knowing him had taught KT that he was only reserved when he didn’t have the answers, even if he didn’t like to admit it. Magic was building and the king of fairies didn’t know why. Or wasn’t certain at the least. It scared him.

She headed downstairs and back through the living room. Nobody else had moved since she had gone. 

“I’m heading out for a bit. Need anything picking up while I’m out?”

“A winning lottery ticket would be nice,” her father muttered wistfully.

“Milk and bread would be more practical,” her mother added. “Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Stop worrying, Mum. Most of my injuries were superficial. I feel fine.” Superficial might have been an understatement. Really, KT should have been dead after being impaled multiple times. Those were small details though that her mother didn’t need to worry about.

Tara sighed. “Why am I cursed with such a stubborn family?”

KT didn’t bother answering, instead just waving cheerfully and making her way to the door. She stepped out into the street and immediately felt the full force of the sun on her skin. Kai appeared at her side, cursing the heat. The thought of dressing in lighter colours had never crossed his mind.

“You planning to join me for a jog?” she asked him playfully. “That’s not like you.”

“I’ll pass. You can run through this humidity and come back looking and smelling like a drowned rat. I have other places to be. Better places. I just wanted to… well, I wanted to ask you something.”

KT slowed her walking slightly. It was almost as though Kai was being shy. A devilish smile tugged at her lips.

“Now then, little brother, what could you possibly be so sheepish about?”

“Shut up!” he snapped. He wrapped himself in what bravado he could muster. “We are the same age and I don’t care what you say to the contrary. I was just being a gentleman and let you out first. Ladies first and all that bollocks.” He fidgeted with one of his rings for a moment before continuing. “What I wanted to ask was, I, err… I’m kinda seeing someone and I, well, I wanted to introduce you to her sometime.”

KT burst out laughing. “Since when did you introduce anyone to the family.”

“Haha, laugh it up. This is different to usual. I met her at the hospital and we just talked for a few months. Maybe my near-death experience changed the way I see the world but I just kinda wanted to get to know her, you know? Do you think something is wrong with me?”

“It’s called being an empathetic adult.

“Implying that sluts are unempathetic and immature is stereotyping and is harmful for society.”
 “I’m making no judgement on the poor souls you’ve led astray.”

“Ha! Assuming any reference to sluts is referring to women is sexist!”

“So you are calling yourself a slut?”

“I’m calling myself a coitus connoisseur.”

“That phrase makes me deeply uncomfortable. Please never repeat it.”

“Yeah, that was pretty bad. So, do you agree to meet her?  I just want your approval to make sure I’ve not gone crazy, okay. This means a lot to me.”

“You know I hate awkward social encounters, but if it’s important to you then of course I will. Is that where you’re going now?”

Kai nodded. “There’s a market on in town. Handcrafted junk and lots of food stalls. We’re going to head there for a while then grab some drinks.  You can join us at the Silver Spoon after you’ve tortured yourself.”

“Fine. I’ll go for my jog then get ready. Hmm. What do you even wear for meeting potential sister-in-laws?”

“Whoa there! Let’s not get carried away with allusions to the ‘M’ word. It’s just casual drinks, okay. Be yourself and the two of you will get along great. I mean, she does like me, and you’re just a watered down, slightly less charming version of that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo. Your personality only seems stronger because it’s been left to rot. Think of it like a smell. Stronger isn’t better.”

“You know which cheeses cost the most? The foul smelling ones that are absolutely crusted with mold. That’s me.”

“Whatever you say, cheese boy. Don’t leave this girl waiting now. Go on. I’ll speak to you later.”

Kai grinned and turned, heading back towards the house. Shaking her head as she chuckled, KT picked up her pace and started her jog. 

It was strange just how seamlessly life had picked up after been completely shattered. Nobody remembered those events but they had left such an impact on each of their lives, mostly for the better. Their mother had needed to open herself up to cope with her injuries and now had a better bond with everyone because of it, while Kai had met someone that he finally connected with while at the hospital, a hospital they were only in because of the injuries they had all received in Scotland. 

And then there was KT, as disjointed as ever. Possibly moreso. So she trained and trained, pushing herself to her limits in the hope that her life didn’t return to the mundane grind of reality. She hadn’t liked that back when it was all she had known. Now it profoundly unsettled her.

Her feet pounded down the all too familiar pavement. The air was so heavy that she was already struggling to breathe. She lifted her headphones over her ears and pawed at her phone’s screen until sudden music blasted into her ears. She swore then quickly turned it down before increasing her pace. 

Minutes dragged by until her sanctuary of sound was interrupted by a commotion ahead of her. Her eyes drifted over to a street corner a short distance away. Three men stood facing down a fearful looking girl a few years younger than KT. They laughed and jeered at her obvious discomfort, one of them holding her arms so she couldn’t escape. KT slowed in front of them, stopping at the girl’s side. She bend down, resting her hands on her knees as she took heavy breaths.

“Whats up, luv? We take your breath away?” one asked her with a smirk.

KT held up a finger for him to wait a moment. She’d only been jogging for a short time but was already completely drenched. She straightened herself then steadied her breathing.

“Afraid not. It’s this thing called exercise. You should try it sometime. It might help you bulk up those twiggs you call arms.”

The young man’s friends laughed. The man muttered something under his breath then let go of the girl, turning his full attention to KT.

“What’s it to you anyway?”

“Your friend here doesn’t look like she wants your company. Figured I’d have a look since you already threw off my concentration.”

“We’re just having fun, right. We aren’t goin’ to hurt her or anything. Bloody ‘ell, you can’t even talk to girls anymore without being the bad guy.”

KT sighed. “I don’t think you could comprehend what it means to be the bad guy. Being bad and being a bit of a dick aren’t mutually inclusive you know.”

“You what?”

“I think she called you a dick.”

KT ignored the men and turned to the girl. “You okay?”

The girl nodded. KT placed a hand on her shoulder and prompted her to start walking. She called over her shoulder to the men as she left. “See you around. Maybe work on those people skills in the meantime, okay?”

“Thanks for helping,” the younger girl said when they were out of sight of the men. “They regularly do that. They think they’re just playing around but it’s scary, you know?”

“No worries. Glad to help. They seemed alright, if a bit obnoxious. Most people like that just need a firm word.” She offered the girl a reassuring smile. “And if that fails you just gotta kick their ass.”

“I don’t think that’s very realistic,” the girl pointed out. 

“Yeah, maybe not,” KT reflected. “The world’s a scary place filled with things stronger than us.” Her thoughts found themselves drawn back to the tunnels beneath Glasgow, to the fear she had felt while hunted by the cannibal, Christie. No amount of ‘can do’ attitude would have worked there. It didn’t even take a supernatural being like that to be dominating for the average woman. She suddenly didn’t know what to say to the girl. 

“Err, just remember to punch their nose with the base of your palm in an upwards strike. Sends the cartilage straight into their brain.”

This information only seemed to make the girl unsettled. She quickly gave her thanks once again then took off down a side street.

“Dammit,” KT muttered. Her mood only soured further when she realised that she would have to hold up a polite conversation with a stranger as soon as she got back. What the Hell did normal people even talk about? It had been hard to interact with people before, but now it seemed impossible.

She set off at a full sprint to drown her negativity beneath a wave of exhaustion. It didn’t work. Gasping for air, she slowed to a walk again, her mood sinking further. Back then, after seeing what Christie had done, she had felt a great drive to protect others who were vulnerable. As that adrenaline had faded though, the reality of the world had set in. She wasn’t some kind of superhero. She couldn’t solve the world’s problems with her fists. But then she could inspire people either. Where did that leave her?

Her hands fumbled with the door handle and she nearly collapsed over the threshold. She took a step forward then fell onto the carpet. Her mother poked her head around the corner to investigate the noise. 

“You have a fun run?”

KT raised a feeble thumbs up and made some vague sounds that could be interpreted loosely as words.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard you know? Why the sudden need to get fit?”

Why? KT mulled the word over. She dragged herself into a sitting position with her back leant against the wall. 

“I guess that… the future scares me. I don’t know what the Hell I’m doing with my life, but getting stronger is the one thing I can control. I can’t walk into my dream career and tell them to hire me. I can’t just go out there and know what to say to people. I can run though, and I can lift. I can get stronger, and then maybe that strength will come in handy.”

Her mother didn’t say anything, instead awkwardly sliding down the wall to sit beside her. It was a sentimental gesture she never would have engaged in previously.

“I don’t envy you kids. Ha, kids, just the word is belittling. We were adults at your age. Everything was simpler. Your generation are the driftwood in the tidal twilight of the times.”

“That was very poetic, coming from you.”

“You’d probably not believe that I used to write poetry as a girl. That’s what I wanted to do back in school. But then there was a pressure on girls to step up and cast down the shackles of femininity in order to work respectable jobs for good money. So I turned my imagination towards business and never looked back.”

“Huh, I never knew that.”

“I don’t really speak about it. What I’m trying to say is, the world is changing faster than at any other point in history. It’s okay to be scared. It terrifies me to see you and Kai feeling so lost because I know there’s nothing I can do to help you. I can’t imagine living through it first hand. Just… go easy on yourself and know that me and your dad are here for you. It isn’t your fault that the world hasn’t left you a seat.”

KT felt tears sting her eyes. “Thanks, Mum,” she sniffed, turning to embrace the older woman. Her mum held her back.

“Maybe grab another shower before the hugs, okay.”

KT glanced down at her dripping clothes and dank hair. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She stood up, noticing a wet blotch on the wall where she had been leant. Then to drive home the fact, she remembered she had to meet up with Kai.

An hour later she stepped back out of the house in a simple pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a cat on it. Even this heat couldn’t encourage her to wear a skirt or dress. She sent Kai a quick text as she walked and he responded straight away. They were at the pub awaiting her. There was no backing out now.

The Silver Spoon was a chain pub that had a reputation for being cheap and little else. It was hardly the most romantic of places but it did have a strange charm about it. KT entered the pub and spotted Kai at a table in the far corner. She crossed the distance, her attention on the chestnut haired figure that sat opposite him. 

On seeing her approaching, Kai got to his feet quickly. He looked genuinely nervous. Seeing him like this brought a smile to her face, his sudden shyness helping to dispel her bad mood. 

“Hey KT. Thanks for coming. Did that sound too formal? Definitely too formal. Sup, Sis. Nope, that just sounds stupid. Okay, starting over. So, you are here, which is a thing. A good thing. Another good thing, and by thing I mean person, is Cayla. Cayla, this is my sister, KT. KT this is my, wait, what are we? Girlfriend? Partner? Or do the kids call it SO these days? Oh god, I said ‘the kids’ and ‘these days’ This is it! Old age is setting in. I’m not cool anymore. Please tell me ‘cool’ is still a thing!”

The chestnut haired woman, Cayla, stood up and rested her hands on Kai’s shoulders until he stopped floundering. She was tall for a girl, just inching out KT’s height, but had a slighter build. A light smattering of freckles was dashed across the bridge of her nose. She wore a long chequered skirt and a band shirt. She smiled and offered her hand to KT.

“I’m Cayla. Pleased to meet you. Kai has told me so much about you.”

KT took her hand. She couldn’t imagine what Kai would be saying about her but she ignored the lurching feeling of dread. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” That seed of apprehension in her stomach flared again as no other words presented themselves in her head. Thankfully Cayla took the reins. 

They all sat down around the table, Kai and Cayla at one side with KT at the other, while Cayla chatted pleasantly about meeting Kai. A huge blush covered his face for the entire story. Both women found enjoyment in his discomfort. It was weird to hear a nice story about Kai. If KT didn’t know better she would have thought Cayla was speaking of someone completely different.

Drinks were ordered and small talk about music eased the group dynamic. KT found the other woman to be easy to talk with and they shared similar tastes in most things. Kai had been right about that. She was happy to let Cayla carry the conversations too, and the woman seemed happy to do so. 

“So, Kai never told me what it is you do. Are you an athlete?” Cayla asked once music had been thoroughly been discussed.

KT couldn’t suppress a surprised laugh. “An athlete? No. I’m a part time receptionist. Making the world a better place one generic email at a time.”

“Really. You look so strong. Don’t you play any sports?”

“I used to. Now I just like to workout alone.” A wave of self consciousness washed over KT. She hadn’t really considered that she would look any different. Looking across the table she suddenly felt like she was in an interview. 

Kai noticed the brief look on her face and steered the conversation away from KT’s life. As the drinks came and went, the atmosphere was light-hearted, and even KT started to enjoy herself. Kai got over his nerves and became his usual abrasively charming self. Seeing him being himself again, KT watched the interaction between him and Cayla. She always had a witty response to his quips and made him laugh in a way that she hadn’t seen before. It was nice.

Eventually, many drinks later, the evening had gone so well that Kai made a resolution. 

“You know what?”

“What?” KT asked as she went to take a sip of her drink, spilling it over the table.

“Today went really well. Cayla, congratulations, you’ve passed the trial period with flying colours.”

“I’m honoured,” she answered dryly. “I guess you scrape a passing grade yourself.”

“Well, maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I really like you. KT likes you too.”

KT made a thumbs up gesture without looking. She was currently occupied with being face down on the table in the pool of spilled drink. The excessive exercise, alcohol, and lack of food was starting to hit her hard.

“So I think it’s time,” Kai continued. He took a deep breath. “Time to introduce you to the family!”

This perked up KT. She sat up and stared intensely at her twin’s features. “Are you serious?”

“Super serious,” he slurred. “In fact, let’s go now! I’mma walk right up to Tara and be like ‘Yo Mum, this is my commitment because you always said I could never handle a girlfriend. Yeah!”

He stood up with a fiery determination in his eyes, swayed, then toppled to the floor. 

KT stumbled over to him and prodded him with her foot. “Hey, you can’t back out now. Passing out isn’t gonna get you out of this.”

“I have made a mistake.”

“You’ve made hundreds. This probably isn’t one though. Cayla, grab his other arm for me. Is this something you want?”

A brief look of deer in the headlights flitted across her face. When she looked down at Kai it resolved itself into a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Good. Now help me carry him. Don’t let go once you have him or he’ll make a run for it.”

Kai blinked drunkenly. “No. This is the right thing to do. Because I… what’s that ‘L’ word? Oh yeah. Like. Because I strongly like you.”

Cayla waved her middle finger across his vision, causing him to cackle maniacally. The two women hoisted him to his feet between them and started the short journey to the Redthorn house.

Next – Chapter 2.

Chapter 3. A Brave New World. (A Rubber Ducky at the End of the World)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Peace Lenrow was hungry. The door to his room hadn’t been opened in days. He had heard loud noises but had seen no sign of life. The electricity seemed to be down too. Something wasn’t right but he had not cared until now.

He stood up, flexing muscles that had not seen much use lately. It was beginning to dawn on him that he should be in pain. By now the hunger should have been eating at his stomach and seeping his strength. Instead he only felt a slight pang, almost a craving for flavour more than sustenance. 

“Hey! Anybody out there? Nurse! Anyone!” he shouted to the door. 

There was no answer. It would have been a surprise if there had been one since the building was empty except for Peace and another patient who was enjoying the solitude. The staff had ceased coming to work and most of the other patients had left. Super strength and a sound mind had done wonders for them.

His door was locked every night and had not been unlocked since his last visit from the nurse days before. He knocked then paused. His knuckles had left dents in the wood. He knocked again, harder this time, and the door shook in its frame. He shrugged then stepped back before ramming into it with his shoulder. 

The door burst open and Peace staggered into the corridor beyond. His concerns were confirmed as he took in the state of his surroundings. It looked like a storm had passed through the building. There were broken doors, shattered glass and several large holes in the walls. 

He walked over the debris in his cotton pajamas and fluffy slippers without feeling a thing. Glass crunched but no pain registered. A vague sense that his soul must finally have died washed over him slowly. He was truly numb to the world.

Only, he wasn’t. In reality he was more in tune with the world than ever before in his life and the reason that he could feel no pain was due to the strengthening of his body after the Change. It is strange though that reality has a tendency to bend itself around the beliefs of particularly delusional individuals. Personal reality trumps actual reality so often that you could be forgiven for thinking that we actually live in a truly chaotic world.

As such, it was not important what the universe had done to Peace Lenrow but what Peace thought that the universe had done to him. For all that he knew, the world could have been in perfect order and all of this was a product of his own delusional mind. 

Peace felt surprisingly happy. Whether it was the breakdown of society or the breakdown of his sanity, he was free. His biggest problem with life had always been other people so any reality without them was close enough to Heaven for him.

That sense of liberation didn’t last long though. No sooner had Peace left the hospital to be greeted by the ruins of his town, than his dream of escaping humanity was shattered. Swaggering down the centre of the road was a group of men who laughed loudly among themselves. Peace felt a vein twitch on his forehead.

I, as an omnipotent narrator, can tell you that the men had been washed up wrecks sustained by drugs and alcohol after never achieving anything in life. A successful football career cut short from an injury, a young love brought to an end by uncontrolled anger, and children born too early in life were the kinds of hallmarks worn by these bitter individuals.

“Old Jonesey didn’t know what hit him,” one cackled. “How many times had he and his lads beat us up? Then wham! I hit him with a car. Just picked it up and smacked him like it were a cricket bat. The look on his brother’s face. Ha!”

“They didn’t stand a chance,” sniggered another. “We run this town now.”

Another man suddenly noticed Peace and pointed him out to the others. “Hey look. Someone’s just come from the loony bin.”

Peace suppressed a sigh as every head in the group turned to focus in on him. He wasn’t very good with people. They had a tendency to annoy and confuse him. He tried to ignore them and keep walking but they had other ideas.

“What you doing out of your comfy little pillow cell, eh?” grinned a bald man with the build of a rugby player and the face of a crashed plane. 

Peace didn’t respond, instead changing his direction to try and avoid the group. One of the men grabbed his arm and pulled him back around.

“It’s rude to ignore someone when they’re speaking to you, boy. Maybe you’re a bit behind on the times. See, things have changed. We are the top dogs around here now. You do as we say. Got that?”

Peace frowned. “Sorry. What did you say? I zoned out for a minute there. Something about dogs. I like dogs.”

The man’s grip tightened on Peace’s arm. “Who the hell do you think you are, retard?”

“Who do I think I am?” Peace mused aloud. “A better question would surely be who do you think I am? I know who I am. I think.”

Cogs were turning inside the man’s head. Understanding dawned on him with about the same speed as an English sunrise in December. Anger sparked at the boy’s insolence and he lashed out his fist with a grunt.

The fist connected with Peace’s face with the force of a freight-train. The man, who was called Nicolas Drager but still thought of himself as the lad about town ‘Dray’, expected one of three things to happen. The boy could be sent hurtling backwards through the front wall of the hospital, his head could be torn off and bounce across the roofs like a stray football or his skull could implode under the pressure. Dray had seen all three happen. 

He had never seen somebody stand and take it though. He took a quick step back after letting go of the boy’s arm. Peace stood still, his eyes unfocused. Blood dribbled from his lips and nose. His brain felt like it had been put through a blender. Agony crackled through him. He laughed. To feel anything brought a sense of euphoria to him.

The sunrise effect was again spreading through the group of men. Common Sense screamed that perhaps the best thing to do would be to leave the area as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, common sense is in fact one of the rarest of human traits despite its misleading name. Fight or flight battered at the instincts of the men but it was testosterone that ultimately led to a scrawny man yelling “Get ‘im!” Mob mentality took over from there while Common Sense looked on in disgust and facepalmed.

Five fully grown men with plenty of fighting experience versus a seventeen year old fresh from a mental hospital. It should have been over very quickly. It was.

Peace felt as though he existed beyond the usual confines of time and space. He saw the men move, not exactly in slow motion, but as though he had seen each action a million times before like a favourite movie. He knew where their fists would land and where they would leave themselves open. Images filled his head, processing all of the information around him so quickly that he didn’t understand what was going on. 

He wove around the flurry of attacks without a care in the world but never fought back. Peace disliked fighting. Not because he was afraid of getting hurt but because it was a situation where all of the emotions that he tried to suppress came venting uncontrollably to the surface. Showing emotion made him less human. Pure rage would consume him and strip him of his humanity.

It had been a fight that had sealed his fate to be committed to the mental hospital. Self harm could be hidden, ignored, but biting off someone’s ear was somewhat more visible. It didn’t matter how horrible the person in question was. How many times they had bullied others, disrupted lessons and made life hell. The second someone snaps and puts them in their place they suddenly become the victim and you are a psychopath. 

One of the men caught him a blow across the back of the head with a brick that shattered on impact. Blood bubbled from the wound. Seeing that he could be hurt the men redoubled their efforts. Peace took a deep breath.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said in a voice that was too calm. 

Peace’s fist drove hard into the gut of the man in front of him. It didn’t stop until it had passed straight through his body. Blood splashed across Peace’s face. The man screamed and flopped to the floor. He was still alive but couldn’t move due to the hand sized gap in his spine. 

This moment marked the second important decision for the men to make. Common Sense stood up to make its case again then decided that it wasn’t even worth the effort and left to find a can of beer and a good seat to watch the show.

The men dove at Peace and he offered them a feral grin. His conscious thoughts stepped away from his brain and took a seat beside Common Sense. 

Every punch that Peace threw connected then continued on its merry way unhindered by such simple obstacles as flesh and bones. Screams and blood filled the air in a symphony of pain and suffering. It was only a matter of seconds until five writhing, bloodsoaked bodies littered the floor and Peace stood in their centre panting as he wrestled to regain his composure. 

It was a scene of utter carnage. Peace surveyed the damage with dead eyes. A butterfly fluttered past the groaning mess, catching Peace’s attention. The sight of it lifted his spirits and cast any memories of his actions from his mind. He wandered after the butterfly with a smile on his face, everything else forgotten.

Previous – Chapter 2. A Father’s Duty.

Next – Chapter 4. A Flock of Faithful.

Chapter 2. A Father’s Duty. (A Rubber Ducky at the End of the World)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Humans are surprisingly dim for such clever creatures. It took them a while to work out that they had changed. People no longer got ill. They didn’t tire as easily, and they were stronger and faster than ever before. Lots of things happened that could only point toward humans having become more powerful, but people don’t like to connect the dots if the bigger picture is one that they don’t want to acknowledge. 

Even so, it was only a matter of days until the governments of the world were forced to announce that the experiment may not have gone entirely to plan. It went something along the lines of: “Somebody forgot to carry the one in the calculations and now the Earth and everything in it is atomically unstable. On a side note, you are all basically superman now. Please don’t use these powers and continue with your life as normal.”

If you think that anybody took that advice then you are more naive than I gave credit for. When confronted with power, human minds reach for extremities. They realise that they have no need to work when they could take anything that they want, or they develop a hero complex. Only, neither works when everybody is the same. 

How do you use your newfound powers to rob an old lady when she turns around and slaps you straight through a building? How do you protect the innocent when they can fully protect themselves?

Just like in nature though, not everyone was affected in equal measures. Some became stronger than others for reasons that nobody could tell. Many great stories of tragedy, triumph and the like rose during this time. There were millions of tales, such as Mrs Baker, and elderly woman who had been on her deathbed. After the Change she stood back up and took her poor dog on a long overdue walk in the park. Then there was Mr Dale who had thrown himself off of a skyscraper moments before the Change only to crash down onto a car and walk away unharmed, much to his own chagrin. 

None of these events factor into this particular narrative though. Instead we must shift our way through the chaos and miracles to a small terrace house in a rundown neighbourhood. It had always been run down but of late had been reduced to crumbling ruins.

Damian Smithson stood in the center of his living room with a crying baby cradled in one arm. He stared at his free arm, held out before him with fingers splayed, and watched tendrils of smoke curl around it. Before him on the ground lay a mound of charred bones.

Things had happened quickly. The bones belonged to a man who had broken into the house. This was a very literal statement too since there was a wide hole in the wall that marked the man’s entrance. He had come to steal from the single father, and Damian had done what he had to in order to protect his daughter. Only, neither man had expected Damian to fire a laser beam from his hand. People were stronger, faster, and could take more damage, but lasers? That was something new.

Slowly, Damian lowered his arm and tried to sooth the baby absentmindedly. He had always been weak. He was scrawny and had never advanced his career past being a supervisor at a fastfood restaurant. He had been bullied throughout his youth and had been unable to save his wife when she had been hit by a drunk driver two months ago. 

So why was he suddenly so powerful? Since the Change he had outclassed those around him. The man at his feet had not been the first to cross him. People could survive gunshots now but Damian had broken bones with a childlike ease. Only one explanation came to his mind.

He had been chosen.

“Hush Amelia,” he whispered to the child. “Don’t cry. Daddy is going to make the world a better place for you. Don’t fear the chaos, for I’ll bring order. Just you wait and see.”

Previous – Chapter 1. A Good Day for An Apocalypse.

Next – Chapter 3. A Brave New World.

Chapter 28. (Thorns of the Shadow: Blood, Blades, and Bacon)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Darkness faded into light. Black became white. Numbness clouded thoughts. A sense of disembodiment flooded into the void then flared into awareness. Comprehension followed shortly after.

KT was laid in a bed staring up at a white ceiling. White walls surrounded her. Another bed was at her side. Her mother was propped up on her elbows and stared across at her happily. She looked pale and bruised but full of life. On chairs between the two beds sat Kai and their father. They too bore bruises and small cut. 

Memories clicked into place. She remembered being at the lodge. There had been a strange smell, then an explosion. During brief moments of consciousness she could recall hearing people talk about some kind of gas explosion that had killed several of the lodge’s guests and injured the others. Everything was alright now though. She was safe and well.

“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?” her mother asked her softly. Everyone was looking at her.

“Good. Tired and sore but good.” It hurt to speak. 

“You’ve been out for a few days,” her father told her. He reached out and held her hand. “You were declared stable two days ago and have been drifting in and out of consciousness since.”

“Well I’m back for good this time,” KT smiled. “Kai, how are you?”

“Me?” Kai shrugged. “I was only thrown around a bit. This head’s too thick to take damage. You almost managed it though. You drove me mad with worry. Where would I be without you there to keep me on the straight and narrow?”

KT closed her eyes again for a moment. “I’ll always be there to keep an eye on you. You wouldn’t last a day without me.” She suppressed a flutter of a frown. It seemed that he remembered the explosion. For KT, other memories had started to overlay that inferno.

She looked around herself slowly and noticed Ava’s necklace on the table beside her. With unsteady fingers she picked it up and stared into the mesmerizing swirl of silver. Resolve filled her soul like a tsunami. 

Black Annis still lived, Déaþscúa was imprisoned and Heaven’s Gate was severely weakened. The red haired woman’s parting words loomed at the back of her mind too. Big changes were in motion and she needed to be strong enough to face them.

For Ava and Uncle Frank, and now Aunt Susan, and for everybody that the witch had ever taken from this world, KT would see her dead. This she vowed to herself.

‘It would appear that the Grand Moot was not informed of your resistance to magic. That is a mistake that I feel will come back to bite them. This will prove to be an interesting lifetime…’

The end.

Thanks for reading. Hope you had a kick-ass time with Thorns of the Shadow. Feel free to leave your thoughts or feedback in a comment. 

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Previous – Chapter 27.

Chapter 27. (Thorns of the Shadow: Blood, Blades, and Bacon)

~ Matthew Roys ~ Leave a comment

Kai roared. Adrenaline coursed through him like liquid fire. Everything was a blur. He rode atop Arteeru and used the spear like a lance to stab at any enemy that he could reach. Arteeru trampled goblins underfoot and swung powerful paws at anything too big to crush. His fangs bit at men and monsters alike. 

From Arteeru’s back, Kai could see most of the battlefield. Niall’s force had retreated to a large helicopter that had barbed wire fencing set up in a ring around it. It was hard to tell faces in the flurry of snow but the simple amount of figures showed that the battle hadn’t been going well up to that point. Judging by the strange shapes in the sky, things weren’t going too well against Annis either.

The spear wedged itself into a furred creature that was slightly bigger than a man and snapped in half. Kai threw the remaining part away and swung his shotgun around, blasting at a particularly ugly goblin. They were fast approaching Niall’s warriors now.

Kai could make out Ailia up ahead. She chased after goblins who fled from her in terror, ripping off their limbs like a sadistic child torturing insects. Close to her was a woman who fought with a staff. Kai had noticed her for her looks back in the camp but had been too occupied to pay much attention to her. He thought that he would rectify that now. 

He jumped from Arteeru’s back, landing on a goblin whose bones shattered under the weight. He ran toward the woman, gunning down anything in his path before skidding to a halt at her side with a charming grin on his face.

“You need a hand?” he offered.

“Nah, I’m good,” the woman replied as she grabbed a man and rammed her staff up his arse. The weapon glowed for a second then fired a laser that shot up through the man’s body and exploded his head. Kai gulped. “Feel free to help the western lines. Me and Ailia have this side covered.”

Kai moved to do as the woman said when he hit another invisible wall. He looked around in confusion. A similar look passed over both Ailia and the red headed woman. The shield cut off the majority of Annis’ forces. It looked as though it encompassed the entirety of the battlelines. 

Magic and gunfire rained down on the army outside of the shield. Men and women in suits or cloaks appeared from every direction. Annis’ minions ran screaming. The newcomers didn’t stop killing but nor did they bother with those that fled. It was only a matter of minutes until there was only the new force and a sea of corpses beyond the magical barrier.

“Shit,” Kai heard the red haired women exclaim. “The Grand Moot’s found us faster than I thought. Déaþscúa better have dealt with Annis already.”

The shield started to fade from the top down to the ground. The Grand Moot soldiers advanced on them with the same severe looks that they had worn against those working for Annis. They surrounded the ragtag group. 

“You are all henceforth in the custody of the Grand Moot,” announced a magically amplified voice. “Lay down your weapons now or you will be executed. This is your one warning.”

“Fuck me sideways with a flaming bargepole. We were so close to winning,” the woman huffed. She dropped her weapon without argument though. The staff beeped angrily as it hit the dirt. Seeing everyone else comply, Kai dropped his shotgun. 

From then on there was a lot of being herded around like cattle and plenty of arguments. Kai tried asking after KT several times but never received a reply. If he did manage to get one of the stern faced guards to speak it was usually to tell him to shut up. He was getting sick of being shoved around too. He was tired, half frozen and ill with worry. 

Another guard ignored him when he tried again and he finally snapped. “Are you fucking deaf you ignorant prick?” he shouted. Grabbing a stone he hurled it at the man’s head.

The man rounded on him in a fury. He swung a thick truncheon into Kai’s ribs. His arm pulled back for another attack when a boot caught him in the head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. The boot belonged to the mercenary woman. 

A crowd had quickly gathered. A dozen of the guards were advancing upon them which caused a handful of mercenaries to stand at Kai and the woman’s side. Men and women were taking fighting stances all around them on both sides.

“Break it up. Calm yourselves. We are rational adults who should be on the same team, not squabbling children,” boomed another magnified voice. 

It belonged to a large, greying man with an aura of leadership about himself. Scarlet robes were visible beneath a warm cloak. He walked through the men and corpses with no concern for anything. His steps were directed toward Kai and the mercenary. 

“Glory Valentine. I see that you haven’t lost any of that fiery spirit. That’s good. We need passionate people in the world. I only wish your passion didn’t lead you to break into restricted areas and steal dangerous information. It is a very serious thing that you’ve done,” he said to the woman. Even without magic, his voice was clear and strong. Next he looked to Kai. “And you must be Déaþscúa’s companion, Mordekai Redthorn. It seems that you too are a passionate individual. Do not allow yourself to burn out due to too fierce a flame.”

“Where’s my sister?” Kai asked again, his anger only just in check.

“Your sister is being taken to our Scottish Hall to recover from the injuries she received from Annis. Nobody here seemed able to heal her. I’m afraid her fate is in the hands of science rather than magic,” the man answered. “You will all be taken there shortly so you will be able to see her for yourself soon.”

“And Déaþscúa?” 

The man patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Déaþscúa is alive and well. There is no need to worry about him. Now, I must go and attend to business. Annis didn’t fully break the seal but she has left it paper thin. It could crack at any minute, and none of us want that. If you need anything then ask for Arch Councillor Forenine.” Then he vanished into the snow.

“Look at you, making friends in high places,” Glory smirked. “Your new buddy is the leading member of the English branch of the Grand Moot. That makes him the most important man in the country. With the recent actions the Moot’s taken recently, it also makes him very incompetent or completely untrustworthy. Keep that in mind.”

“Lucky him. I don’t much care for important folk. In my experience, the more important you are the bigger dick you are. It’s all pretty correlative,” Kai muttered dismissively. 

“Oh I like you,” Glory laughed. “I’m Glory Valentine, by the way. Leader of the world’s largest international mercenary cartel. That’s about as important as you can get without corrupting yourself with politics.” Her smile unnerved Kai slightly but she only laughed again.

True to Forenine’s word, it wasn’t long until the remaining warriors were led to a line of vans. They were loaded into them then had no option but to sit and wait as they were driven to the Scottish Hall. Time dragged inside the confines of the van. It was only an hour or so journey but Kai felt every second of the time. Glory brought out a set of dice and invited Kai to a few games with the other mercenaries but none of them seemed focussed on it. 

When the van’s engine cut off it was still several minutes until the doors opened. Kai stepped stiffly out into a large courtyard surrounded by brown stone walls topped with towers and spires. Patterns and sculptures were carved across the surfaces. It looked like some grand manor house or something similar. 

Soldiers in black and red uniforms came to guide away Glory’s mercenaries and the remaining Scottish warriors after clamping them in chains that suppressed their magic. Kai was taken aside by another soldier who led him into the building through a separate door. His feelings that the building was a grand house were confirmed by the interior. Old looking paintings covered the walls while more carvings worked their way up columns and across skirtings. The place even smelled old. Despite all of this, every room was flooded with light and warmth. 

Kai tried to pry some information from the soldier. It was a fruitless effort. The man kept a stoic silence. He led Kai at a brisk march through the corridors to a set of double doors. The soldier opened one door and ushered Kai inside. It was a long room filled with half a dozen beds. Only one was currently occupied.

“KT!” Kai was at her side in two great strides. She opened her eyes and winced.

“Geez, keep it down. I feel like I’ve been through a meat grinder,” she said weakly. Dozens of tubes were connected to her body. “A doctor told me I should be dead. I’m getting tired of people saying that. I’ll heal perfectly fine but I’ll have some pretty nasty scars. They tried to use magic to save me but it didn’t work. I think the fairies did something to the wounds. The doctors had to rely on potions and stitching. I look like Frankenstein’s monster.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Kai breathed. A smile slid across his lips. “I’m going to have to stop letting you out of my sight. Every time I leave you alone I find you injured in a sickbed afterwards.”

“Only because I actually do things. I make myself useful.”

“Yeah, as a practice dummy apparently,” Kai countered. They both laughed, almost deliriously despite the pain it was clearly causing KT.

The laughter stopped when the doors were opened again to admit a small group of men into the room. Kai only recognised Arch Councillor Forenine. He greeted them both kindly. The other men stood behind him without expressions. They weren’t in soldier uniforms but white robes.

Forenine spoke gently but his voice was still official sounding. “Katherine and Mordekai Redthorn, you both have my formal apologies for being wrapped up in all of this. You should never have been aware of our world and you certainly shouldn’t have been placed in the danger that you were. As a rule, we try to keep regular, powerless humans from any knowledge of us. It is better for everyone that way. As such, the Council has voted to wipe your minds of any events linking to magic and monsters.”

Kai choked. “You what? We fought tooth and nail for your world. We chose to be a part of it. If you think that you can mess with my brain you’ll get a nasty surprise.”

“I am afraid that you don’t have any choice in the matter,” Forenine informed them. “It has been deemed a matter of security risk. Whether you try and fight or willingly comply, the results will be the exact same. You will have no memories of the time since first meeting Déaþscúa. New memories will be given to explain your injuries. It will not harm you in any way.”

Kai was about to argue until KT placed her hand on his arm. She shook her head weakly. 

“This is a battle we can’t win. I don’t want to see you get hurt needlessly,”

Forenine nodded approvingly. “You are a wise young woman. I’ll be sad to see you go.”

“Can we at least say goodbye to those who helped us before we forget them?” she asked.

Forenine ran a broad hand through his beard thoughtfully. “I think that that would be acceptable. You may say your farewells to all except for Déaþscúa. He is currently being debriefed. If you can walk, I will show you to where the others are.”

“Thank you,” KT told him. She tried to stand but needed Kai’s help to get out of the bed. She was in a regular looking set of checkered pyjamas. “What happened with Annis and Heaven’s Gate? Did we stop her in time?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified.”

Kai snorted. “Classified? You’re about to delete our memories. Does it really matter if you tell us?”

“Rules are rules, young man. Suffice it to say that everything is in hand.”

It took a fe4w minutes to fully unplug KT from her bed. With Kai’s assistance, she shuffled across the room and out of the door after Arch Councillor Forenine. As they walked, Forenine would point out pieces of art or architecture and explain its history. He seemed to know everything about the building. Men and women moved purposefully everywhere. A sense of urgency and near panic seemed to be fueling the torrent of activity.

It wasn’t long before they entered into a vast chamber that looked even grander than the other rooms. A large fireplace stood at one end and a heavenly fresco was painted on the ceiling above. A dark-wood dining table had been pushed to one side to make room for all of the people who loitered frustratedly within the room. 

Kai could see Ailia, Arteeru and Glory but there was no sign of Niall. That observation was pushed from his head when he spotted Jearl and Elizabeth. Anxiously, they edged through the crowd to the two. Elizabeth rushed to them and immediately began to check on KT’s health. The girl weakly brushed her off once she had made it clear that she was okay.

“Your father is in as good health as can be expected. He is here too somewhere, as are the other survivors from the lodge,” Elizabeth said. She was the only person present who did not look dishevelled other than the Moot’s soldiers.

Jearl had not been anywhere near the battle yet still managed to appear as though he had been out in the wild for a week. He always looked like that. What did look out of place on him though was a scowl. It was the first time that KT or Kai had seen him look angry. 

“You’ve not been told, ‘ave you?” His statement drew blank stares from the teens. “They’ve arrested Déaþscúa. Got him locked up tighter than Annis. She’s tucked away somewhere nice and cushy, safe from harm. Half the Council want Déaþscúa executed.”

“They can’t kill him!” KT exclaimed. “He’s only ever fought to protect people.”

“They know that,” said Jearl. “Only, Déaþscúa scares ‘em. He can’t be stopped or controlled by them and that leaves a nasty stain in their underwear. Don’t worry about him though. Déaþscúa has never been held against his will for long. Hell, he’s been executed more times than I’ve had hot meals. It’s the name he mentioned as they dragged him away that’s set me on edge.”

“Yes, Déaþscúa and the rest of us will be fine,” Elizabeth soothed loudly, overriding Jearl’s sentence. She glanced at him then returned her eyes to the twins. “We were told what is to happen to you. I’m sorry.”

KT hugged her. “Don’t worry. It’s alright. You and Déaþscúa wanted to do the same to us. It’s the sensible thing to do I guess.” She sighed sadly. “Well, this is goodbye then.”

Kai didn’t speak but offered Elizabeth and Jearl a nod of his head. He and KT moved across the hall to say farewell to Ailia too. Arteeru and Glory joined them. 

“You were both funny,” Ailia grinned. “You’d have both made excellent thralls.”

“Cheers,” Kai muttered. 

Arteeru clapped him on the shoulder. “You are a good man, Kai Redthorn. It was an honour to battle at your side.”

Kai grabbed his hand like an old friend. “Same. I could have gotten used to my own personal werewolf war mount.” Arteeru gave a sly grin at that and Ailia snorted. He then turned to Glory who headbutted him.

“What the hell?”

“It’s how we show respect,” she told him as though it were the most logical reason in the world. A black collar encased her neck. Glory noticed his look. “I know things that the Moot don’t want other folk knowing. I say certain words and my head explodes like an overripe melon being body-slammed by an obese elephant with the shits.” 

She drew closer to them and lowered her voice. “Listen. I won’t sugarcoat things. The Moot is behind some real questionable things and all of us here are in very real danger. It is only a matter of time until they try to consolidate their power by removing dissenters. That means everyone who supports your mate Déaþscúa. Things are going to kick off. Try to stay safe, okay?” 

A looming presence behind them caused them to turn. Forenine and the white robed men stood with eyes fixed on the two teens. “It is time,” the arch councillor announced. He motioned for them to follow.

They began the walk to leave the room with the slow footsteps of the condemned. Jearl stood beside the door. “Mind wipes aren’t too bad. They used to do it to me every other week. It never stuck long on me for some reason. Apparently it takes a great deal of skill and power to do though. They got sick of repeating it. Never did me any harm. Probably.”

Then they were out of the room and away from any form of comfort. The doors shut behind them, cutting off sound to a dull murmur. Forenine walked at the head of the group while the white clad men penned in KT and Kai. The arch councillor stopped in front of a door that looked like any other.

“Through here, if you please. We will begin as soon as you are both settled. Don’t worry. You won’t feel a thing.”

Previous – Chapter 26.

Next – Chapter 28.