Category: writing resources

Writing Challenge Winner: Painting the Stars by K. Ann

K. Ann is an eighteen-year old writer who completed the 2024 Hero’s Journey Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story.

Author Bio:

As the daughter of a Marine, K.Ann grew up in a world near yet strange, her experiences influencing her writing. Going from writing almost every genre to narrowing it down to one specific niche, she writes young adult contemporary and historical fantasy with hints of dystopian. When she’s not writing, you can find her touring her favorite fantasy worlds and her local libraries.

You can connect with her by signing up to her email list https://kannwriter.myflodesk.com/z8s2ldayio, as well as on Pinterest as @kannwriter and Havok Publishing, where she works on the operations team.

Read K. Ann’s original short story, Painting the Stars, below!

I tighten my hoodie, hunching against the sheets of rain pounding my back. My glasses fog for a second, and the auto cleaner function kicks in, clearing the fog as if it had never been there. Good thing I saved and splurged on them. I can see again.

I stare at the gray sidewalk. There was a time when there was color, when there was more than only shades of gray. A time before the Rift.

Not that I remember it. There’s been no color for decades.

I have no idea why, honestly. Why anything with color is illegal. But that’s the North American sector for you. There’s rumors that the South American sector has color, but that’s just it: a rumor. With the borders surrounded by a border of solid darkness, there’s no getting in or out.

I don’t meet anyone’s eyes. I’m pretty sure thinking such treacherous thoughts is illegal.

And there are people who can get access to mind reading devices—if they pay enough.

I just need to be inconspicuous.

My sneakers splash in a deep puddle, and I groan. Water seeps through, and my socks squelch as I take another step. They’re sopping. If only I wasn’t a broke runaway orphan, maybe I could afford hovershoes. But no, all I can get are regular, pre-historic sneakers.

My feet squish as I trudge up the stairs to my apartment. I place my thumb on the doorknob, and the door illuminates for the briefest of seconds. It opens, and I am met with a sparse, drab room. This building used to be a really nice hotel—at least, it was before the Rift. Now, it is one of thousands of apartments rented cheaply since it has none of the amenities the

rich folk have. Like a stove that cooks for you and seasons the food exactly to your taste if you code it to your DNA. That sort of thing.

I close the door behind me and hurry into my bedroom. All I want to do is collapse on my little cot in the corner of the room. But first, I hurry to my closet, yanking out a dry hoodie. One of those automatic drying machines sure would be nice on days like today.

But alas.

After I pull on the hoodie, I rifle through the back of my closet, glancing behind me, praying nobody can see through the walls with the latest x-ray vision goggles. Shoving aside piles of laundry that I’m saving my decis to wash, I unearth a lockbox.

Historically speaking, it’s a safe. But today, safes are locked and unlocked using DNA, not spin dials. So I call it a lockbox.

It’s so ancient that, if authorities ever knock on my door, they won’t be able to unlock it. Or so I hope. I have no clue what technology official investigators have, anyway. Or if they’d be able to use a software to discover the code.

I unlock it—459—and pull out my most prized possessions.

A set of paint and a sketchpad.

The curtains are drawn, and my door is bolted. I’m safe. Or as safe as you can be when you participate in illegal activities in the North American sector.

I sit on the linoleum floor and open the sketchbook to a new page. I’m never quite sure what I’m going to paint until I start, especially since I have never seen anything with color. It’s amazing, really, that pure paint survived the Rift untainted and lasted so many decades.

I wet my brush and select a dusty rose color. I’ve never seen the color of a rose, but it is the color I imagine they are—a pink that seems slightly darker than a normal pink, which is several shades lighter than this current paint. I brush it along the whole canvas.

I then choose a deep eggplant color—it’s probably lighter than a normal eggplant, but it’s the closest I have to what I imagine an eggplant looks like—and mix it with the pink in large strokes.

I choose color after color, and it doesn’t take long to realize I’ve painted something I’ve never seen before except in gray shades—and in my dreams.

A breathtaking sunset.

***

I scan the bag of chips someone has set in front of me, not meeting their eyes. “12 hectos.” They place their hand on the sensor, using the chip implanted there to make their payment. I place the chips in a bag and hand it to them, never once looking at them.

I’m a cashier at the Econautic Fuel station (which sells economically friendly fuel made from completely water).

I only made about 15 hectos an hour, but working ten-hour days at least pays for my apartment and a few packets of ramen, even leaving me a little extra.

Extra for the White Market.

Another person waits behind the one I just checked out. I scan his items, and he pays in real coin.

“Here’s your four centis change.” I place the coins in his hands. “Have a nice day.” “Thank you…” his voice trails off, and I glance up, wondering what he’s staring at. He’s reading my name badge. “Marita.”

“It’s just Rita.” My eyes drop once more to scrutinize the dusty counter. Why did I just say that? I never say anything to anyone beside social niceties.

“Rita, you want color, don’t you?” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper.

I drop the hectos he gave me, and they clatter against the register. “Are you insane?” I hiss, my eyes frantically looking at the security bots that can transcribe lip movements.

He raises an eyebrow and taps his glasses. My jaw drops.

He has a mind reading device.

And I just met his eyes.

He’s going to turn me in for the reward of 312 kilos.

That’s ten years of wages right there.

I swallow a little and take a step back, bumping into the mini fridge behind me that holds grown-up drinks. It clatters, the display on top falling to the ground with a loud crash. I scramble to pick it up, my heart racing as my fists clench involuntarily. I need to get out of here. I have to run. Hide. Perhaps move to a different region entirely.

I might even have find a smuggler willing to help me illegally leave the North American sector.

“Excuse me, mam…”

I look up, and a woman with a child on her hip holds out a couple bags of chips.

I smooth my face so that there are no worry lines showing and straighten. “I’m sorry for the delay.” I scan her items, she scans her hand over the sensor, and then I’m alone.

The man is no longer here. Only one thing is. A note.

It says, Meet me at the northern corner on the east side of the White Market at midnight.

***

I’m not sure what I’m expecting, exactly. On all accounts, it would probably be safer to book it and leave town. So why am I sticking around?

That note. It’s somewhat ominous, almost as if my doom is impending. And yet, here I wait, at the northern corner on the east side of the White Market, a little before midnight. The White Market opens at 1 am and closes at 3 am. And I’m here, skulking about before it opens.

Second, why is a man who knows how I long for color to be back in the world not turning me in for the reward?

Curse my curious mind.

I hunch over, blowing on my numb fingers to warm them up. I tug my hood up over my head and draw my hands into my sleeves, then stick them in my pockets.

The distant ding of the Mountain Region clock rings through the air. It’s midnight.

I peer into the darkness. Midnight in the North American sector is dreary, with no stars to paint the sky. I glance up at the eternal expanse, wishing I could see the Milky Way, the starry system I only read about in science books when I was in school.

I’m about ready to forget it and leave—both the White Market and the Mountain Region, potentially the North American sector altogether.

But something stops me.

A figure, darker than the rest of the darkness, approaches. I hesitantly take a step back, furtively glancing around me in hopes that someone—anyone—might be there. In hopes that someone will witness what is about to happen.

But nothing. The White Market won’t open for another hour.

The figure is fast approaching, and I can make out his face a little. It’s the man from the station, the one who accused me of wanting color then left a creepy note.

My breath comes so fast and so thick that it fogs my glasses, and the auto-cleaner function has to work double-time to clear it.

“Rita.” The man stops right in front of me. I don’t meet his eyes, but I take in his figure. He’s not super imposing—rather short for a man, about my height. His cheeks are speckled with freckles.

He lowers his hood, and I see his hair is a deep shade—not a gray, but not solid black either. And, not to mention, the fact that he is wearing mind-reading glasses—they sort of look like the mythological Harry Potter glasses.

I force a little smile and take a small step backward. I don’t lower my hood, but I do remove my hands from my pockets so I can fight if need be. “Who are you?”

He is quiet a moment. “My name is of little consequence.”

“I should think not. A name is important. It’s who you are as a person.” Then I clap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that, especially not in a time where names are not important and your entire being is shoved into the 28 digit number listed in the chip in your hand. You don’t just go shouting out that names are important when, to the leaders of the North American sector, they’re not.

“Be that as it may.” He clears his throat and glances around again. “Time is short. I need to know where your allegiance lies.”

I stifle a gasp. “W-why, to President Volton, of course.” I salute as I say his name—just like any other citizen would.

He raises an eyebrow. “Really, Rita, I’d think you wouldn’t be such a liar.” “I-I…” I swallow down the lump of fear rising in my throat. “I’m no liar.” “Then why will you not meet my eyes?”

Why indeed?

He sighs. “I’ll be straight with you. You know of the Rift, right?”

Obviously. Everyone knows about how President Volton fifty-eight years ago realized how color influenced people’s minds and made them more susceptible to rebellion. And thus, he went on a journey to discover how to separate color from the world because, without color, there would be no rebellion, and thus less death.

I don’t buy that propaganda, but I give a nod. “We all learned it in grade school.”

He shakes his head. “A bunch of lies. Written by a bunch of liars.” He gives me a wry smile. “Like you.”

I jerk my head and death glare him. “Am not.”

“Are to.” He taps his glasses again, and I grow cold. I did it. Again. Let him read my thoughts.

“What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“That, Rita, is something only you can answer. How badly do you want color into the world?” I dare myself to meet his eyes again, and he reads the answer. “Just as I suspected.” His voice drops to a whisper, and he says, “Let me help you, and together, we will bring color back into the world.”

I give an almost imperceptible nod.

He smiles. “You can call me Orion. Like the hunter who crushes the scorpion.” Oh dear. What have I gotten myself into?

***

The plan is simple: infiltrate Obsidian Holdings, retrieve the famous paintings Starry Night and the Mona Lisa. Each member of the Phoenix Squad has been assigned specific paintings to find there.

The problem with the heist? Oh, the usual—Obsidian Holdings is the largest protection facility for art—mostly, they hold paintings. Other places—like Shadow Holdings or Twilight Holdings—protect the books.

Or, should I say, imprison.

I swallow a gulp as I shudder. Cloaked in darkness, this heist is doomed from the start. Even I know that. It’s not well thought out, for one. Because who plans 27 heists to steal 54 artifacts on the same night?

The dumbo ringleader Scorpius, that’s who. We all have code names and hide our identity, covering anything that might give access to our DNA. So, gloves, hair coverings, face obscurers, the works.

I’m called Sun now. Not Rita anymore. Protection of privacy, or so they say. But I don’t trust Orion to not share that if something better comes his way. I don’t trust him.

Come to think of it, I don’t trust anyone anymore, not since my parents were killed when I was three for secretly writing novels and circulating them to the entire sector.

They were dumbos for being rebels. And here I am, a rebel.

I’m a dumbo.

Sun, do you read? It’s a neurotransmitter installed in my inner ear. It reads my direct thoughts and transmits them back to Orion, who then sends it to Scorpius. And so on and so forth.

I really cannot manage my thoughts right now. Even though anyone could have a mind reading device, and I’m allowing myself to remain completely jumbled inside.

I read. I squint at the window below me—I’m standing on the roof of Obsidian Holdings. Or perhaps I should say I’m laying on the roof of Obsidian Holdings because that is what I’m actually doing. I’m watching the night guards doing their circulations and timing how much time is between them while Scorpius does his hacking thing to take down the cameras inside.

Then begin phase 2.

I roll my eyes and carefully raise the window. No alarms go off, so Scorpius must have pulled through. One advantage to having a master hacker during a heist.

Carefully, carefully I lower myself into the building, changing the settings on my borrowed hovershoes so that I change the surrounding gravity gradually.

One thing for sure about this rebel circle: I get nice gear, better than I ever got as a runaway orphan working at an Econautic Fuel Station.

I peer around, pulling my black hood over my head. I’m wearing a face obscurer, so that if I’m caught nobody will recognize me. Hopefully. Hackers are everywhere, and if someone has a mind reading device, all is lost.

I slowly step down the hall, making my way to one of the galleries.

This is the one. Stop here. The first one is hidden in here.

I approach the door and stop. DNA scanner.

I’ve already removed the sensor. Just go in.

I turn the doorknob and enter the room, glancing around me. I hear steps coming my way, and I quickly shut the door as the guards come into view. Hiding behind a large, ornate vase, I hold my breath as someone marches into the room, does a once-over, and leaves.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I step out of my position. I have seven minutes, more or less, to find the painting Scorpius wants and hide before they’re back.

Describe the painting. I scan the room, searching for something in this room. There is little color here, but there is some. And some means some hope. Hope that color can seep back into this room, this region, this sector. Starting with this painting.

There is a dark black tree-like image that is the focal point, but that is not the main part of the painting. Imagine swirls of glorious colors, with a bright gold sun in the shape of a moon.

A bright gold sun in the shape of a moon? What in the North American sector is that supposed to mean? But I don’t directly think those thoughts because I don’t want Orion to hear them and send them to Scorpius. Will I actually see glorious colors and a bright gold sun?

Perhaps. But perhaps not. Just look for something like what I described. Vague. Obscure observations. Sure I can. My eyes scan the room, searching for something. There are a lot of paintings with hints of color seeping from them, but they’re honestly not very pretty paintings. Probably confiscated from inexperienced painters.

Kinda brilliant, though, hiding a brilliant painting with not-brilliant paintings.

I start peaking behind the stands, looking for something. I’m still not really sure what I’m looking for, though.

And then I see it.

Something so vibrant it hurts my eyes.

I thought my paints were bright, but that is incomparable to this.

The swirls seem to engulf each other, dancing across the canvas over the little town and the tall dark structure.

And the sun! The bright gold sun that looks like a moon doesn’t even begin to describe the majesty. It looks like it is reflected in a water-borne sky with a ripple effect, blending seamlessly into the mystical background.

My hand reaches out to touch it. And that’s when I hear it.

“What are you doing here?”

I whirl around, and there is a guard there, holding a laser taser. “Just taking a little peek. I’ll just be going now.” My hands pick up the painting and hold it behind my back as I slowly inch to the side.

Sun, what is the status report?

Shut up! My mind hisses. I’ve been caught, doofus! I told you this plan was doomed from the start.

Sun, what happened?

I ignore the probing questions and continue my side step. “I just got lost. I’d best be leaving.”

The guard approaches. “You’re not going anywhere.” His eyes try to focus on my face, but he can’t see me well—his pupils go in and out of focus as he tries to see my features.

I grip the painting behind me. I can’t lose this breathtaking piece of art.

The guard shoots the laser, and I dodge it, the painting falling from my hands and skidding across the ground. I leap to my feet and whirl around, the laser shooting toward me again.

I arch my back, and it shoots right past me as I leap through the air toward the guard, knocking straight into him.

He’s out like a lightbulb.

“Oh no, oh no, did I kill him?” I gasp, staring open mouth. But then I realize I can’t just stand here; they’re going to find me. I’ve got to get out of here.

Sun, Sun, do you read?

I ignore the probing and start running, scooping up the painting and turning on my hovershoes as I go. Soon I’m half walking, half flying as I dash toward the open window.

And that’s when a laser hits the obscurer on my face. And a security bot flash blinds me. Oh no oh no oh no. I turn the hovershoes on to the highest setting.

I break through the window, gripping the painting tight, as lasers soar past me into the night sky.

I fly off into the night, just as I see a picture of my face and the words “Wanted: Marita

Davis, 312 kilos” form in the sky.

***

“Sun, what the blazes were you thinking?”

Orion is mad—like, blazing mad. I don’t meet his eyes, since I don’t want him to read my traitorous thoughts to both the North American sector as well as the rebellion, but I can see it in the hardened lines of his jaw.

“What the blazes was I thinking? Fulfilling a dumb mission, what do you expect?” I roll my eyes to the painting in my arms. The colors seem to swirl, filling my vision with beauty. “It was doomed from the start—that many heists in one night is a horrible idea.”

Orion rubs his head. “It was all a farse. The missing paintings were a distraction. You could have left them! And instead you got caught, and we got compromised.”

“Sorry.” I fight surprise but feign sarcasm. “Must’ve missed the memo.”

“Duh. Scorpius was using that opportunity to hack into the government’s security banks to find the secret to how they keep color locked up!”

I glance at the painting in my hands. “They haven’t done a good job of it.”

Orion rubs his temples then sits down on a bench, leaning against the muddy gray building. “There’s a reason for that.”

I plant a hand on my hip, then remember the painting and straighten so as to not soil it. “A reason? How could—” Remembering to play it cool, I rephrase what I was saying. “Why would the government not get rid of color if they could?”

“No, no, no, not that sort of reason.” Orion takes the painting from my hands, and I clench my fists, biting my tongue to keep from yelling at him to give it back. I feel sort of… empty without it. He examines it closely and shakes his head. “The key, my dear Rita, is creativity. And you just broadcasted yourself—and the painting—to the entire nation!”

“Sun.” I reach out and touch the painting, feeling a surge of something run through my fingers. “Sorry. And creativity? What is that?”

“Think of your parents, Rita.” His brows furrow at me, his tone calming as he sees me touching the painting. He pulls it slightly away again, and my body grows cold. “Think of the artist of this painting. Think of yourself. What do you all have in common?”

And that’s when I understand—my parents could not be suppressed. Their life work, their creativity could not be stopped. They had to write, like I had to paint. Just like the artist had topaint this starry night.

Creativity. It’s powerful.

I touch the painting again with a renewed spirit. Light pours out of the painting and into me, streaming through my consciousness and into my very soul. The world seems to explode around me, weaving together in streams of majesty I have never seen before except in weak imitations.

Color.

It’s in me, around me, through me.

It doesn’t matter that I’m a wanted criminal.

What does matter is sharing this beauty with the rest of the sector.

I stare at Orion, and he nods at me. “Rita, you have the gift of creativity—don’t let them take it from you. If those few with creativity are silenced, then there is no hope for restoration of the sector.” He stares into my eyes—his brown eyes with flecks of gold in them. “Will you join me?”

“I’ve already done so,” I say, my eyes taking in his entire personage. His dusty brown hair, his eyes that match, his pale freckled skin, his pinkish lips

I think I want to kiss those lips.

I shake my head to clear that strange urge as Orion continues speaking. “Not that rebellion—the inner rebellion, where we share creativity with the world. I don’t care about hacking and stealing and setting fires. I want to restore the sector. Will you join me, Rita?”

I meet his eyes once more, removing my gaze from his lips. “Yes, Orion, I will help you.” His eyes bore into my own. “It’s not Orion. It’s Dustin.”

I smile. That’s the perfect name for him. “What do we do first, Dustin?”

***

Color seems to spring from my every step. Everywhere, there is overwhelming, swirling colors.

And Dustin can see it, too. I know that now. His desire for a rebellion to overwhelm the world, his mind-reading device so he can find those who are sympathizers to the cause and who might have the gift of creativity inside, his joining with a dumb revolution leader so that he can gain access to art that can cause the spark of creativity in someone to burn to an inferno.

And now, it’s my turn.

I can’t get into my apartment because my DNA will entrap me and garner authorities to the scene, but I don’t need my paint to do this.

All I need is a touch. This one singular painting might not be enough, but it will be the spark. The spark to bring color back.

“Scorpius, we need you to hack into the government broadcasting system.” Dustin stands, leaning against the leader’s desk.

Scorpius rolls his eyes. “Not happening. They’ve blocked my signals.”

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms and staring him down. “Guess you’re not a master hacker, then.”

“Guess not.”

Blazes. Reverse psychology didn’t work.

“For goodness’ sake. Move over.” I push his arm, and when he doesn’t budge from his chair, I grab his computer mouse and start scrolling. I have no clue how to hack, but maybe this will get him to help us.

I start clicking and clacking away, and Scorpius huffs. “You’re ruining my algorithms.” “Your algorithms, huh?” I highlight a section of code and hover my finger over the ‘delete’ button. “You going to help us or am I going to delete this?”

“Fine, I’ll help you. I can scramble the signal and get you access to the broadcasting system.” He grabs my hand and yanks it aside, and Dustin looks about ready to blow when he sees the man touching me. But Scorpius just grabs the mouse and the pad and starts frantically typing and muttering to himself, strings of code pouring forth from his fingers. “Get ready. What are you broadcasting?”

“This.” Dustin holds up the painting. “Make this the entire sky.” Scorpius’s eyebrows raise. “All over the sector?”

“All over the sector.” I narrow my eyes. “Unless I need to destroy your code?”

“Nope, I got this.” Scorpius takes a little scanner camera thing, and a laser light scans the painting and deposits the image as code into the system.

“We need to have our voices hooked up to the system,” I say. “As soon as you start broadcasting the painting.”

Scorpius’s face goes pale. “They’ll be able to track us if we do that.”

Dustin interjects. “Do it.” The determination in his voice strengthens me. I’m a wanted criminal, but this is worth the risk.

Scorpius mutters something intelligible, then starts typing frantically. He pulls a recorder device from a drawer and connects it to the computer. “Start talking. I’m broadcasting. We have less than ten minutes before they can trace the signal and five minutes for them to get here.”

I grab the device and start talking. “Hello, citizens of the North American Sector. My name is Marita Davis, and I’m a lot like you—someone who has something to hide from the government.”

Dustin takes the mic. “I am Dustin Skies. I seek to remedy the problems that the government has infringed on us. Namely, the dystopian world they have perpetrated in locking up creativity.”

I take over. “Look at the sky. Look at the stars painted in the sky. The colors. The vividness of them. Look what we’re missing. Look at the intricacy of it, and consider this: why has the government locked up color?”

“They’ve traced us,” Scorpius hisses, frantically tapping away as his brow sweats.

“So we don’t get the idea to rebel against them!” Dustin exclaims. He is also sweating. “And has that worked? No! They’ve locked up our paintings, our books, our creativity, and to what end? We’re rebelling anyway!”

Clattering noises ring through the building, and I bite my lip. But I can’t freeze now. My voice gains strength as I continue. “Authorities are on the way here to stop us right now. But our voices will not be silenced. Our words will not be stopped. Look at the stars painted in the sky! Let that creativity abound inside you.”

The door crashes open, and someone screams, “Hands in the air or you’re getting tased!” “Don’t let your voices be silenced!” Dustin cries. “Don’t let your creativity be squelched!”

“I’ve lost the signal!” Scorpius yells.

“Silence!”

The room swarms with officials, and I grab Dustin’s hand. He turns to me and wraps his arms around me, his lips pressing hard against mine for a split second before the officials grab our arms and wrench us apart.

“Don’t tell them anything!” Dustin screams. Someone tases him, and he slumps to the floor, unconscious.

I make myself go limp, but I don’t fight. Neither does Scorpius, other than reaching out his finger to his the “delete all” button on his computer. And he gets tased for that.

I touch my lips, and they take us away.

The End.

Writing Challenge Winner: Lifeguard to the Rescue by Bella Johnson

Bella Johnson is a thirteen-year old writer who participated in the Summer 2023 Elemental Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Bella’s contemporary adventure introduces readers to Scarlett, a girl struggling to care of her ill mother, balance her complex friend groups, and decide what to do about a mysterious magical object offered to her by an even more mysterious sorcerer.

Read the full story below!

Original drawing of the main character, Scarlett

We began in an indoor pool with nobody there, the perfect place for 2, 14 year old girls to work. When the new aquatics center opened up nobody wanted to come to the old aquatics center. The girls’ names were Mia and Scarlett. Mia was a tall girl, with brown hair that was dyed blue at the tips. She had on a red swimsuit and Scarlett had a green. Scarlett was a little bit shorter, with red hair dyed with silver tips, she also had green eyes.

“What are you doing tonight Scarlett?”

“Same thing I do every night Mia. I have to look over my mother and watch my sisters. Sorry, I can’t do anything tonight either.”

“Are you going to hang out with me ever, I remember before your mother got sick. We used to hang out all the time. I miss that.”

“We are hanging out right now, wanna race?”

“Nah, remember the last time we raced?”

Scarlett thought about the last time they raced, she just found out that her mother was sick. She also remembered getting stuck in the water and almost drowned, but thanks to the lifeguards they saved her. That’s why she became a lifeguard.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Hey it’s time for me to go home, you got close up again?”

“Yeah, just be careful. I heard your sisters are at it again.”

“Aren’t they always? I will talk to you later bye.”

Scarlett changed out of her swimsuit into her school outfit putting on her most boring jacket. She turned in everything about that day and clock out. On her walk home, Scarlett could not stop thinking about how boring her life is. She can’t hang out with any of her friends unless her father is home or Grandma or Grandpa could come over and help out. When she got home she heard yelling inside the house. She stayed outside for a couple of minutes, before going into the crazy house.

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: Lifeguard to the Rescue by Bella Johnson”

Writing Challenge Winner: Summer by Kayley Roach

Kayley Roach is a 14-year old writer who participated in the Summer 2023 Elemental Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Kayley’s contemporary romance follows the character, Kay, a high school senior preparing to graduate. Kay’s anxiety about the future manifests into strange mystical sensations amplified by the growing tension with her friend, Skye, who claims that Kay’s boyfriend cannot be trusted.

Read the full story below!

11:58am – After School

Sometimes, I wish I was a whole different person. I mean, I never really did ask to be who I am. All I know is that I was magically here one day and I’ve been living my life like this ever since.

I guess I decided not to do what I wanted and stay in bed till noon, but I guess I had to be there, you know. To say goodbye. If it weren’t for my best friend convincing me to come, I’d never have realized why I was being asked to come. 

If only I had stayed home… in my warm bed, writing my stories at home. But no. Instead, I had to go to school, even though it was only for two and a half hours. What was the point? Was the last day of school really that important? All I knew was that I didn’t want to go back… Ever.

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: Summer by Kayley Roach”

Writing Challenge Winner: Bringleclaw and the Cursed Pearl by Layla Mendoza

Layla Mendoza is a thirteen-year old writer who participated in the Summer 2023 Elemental Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Layla’s fantasy adventure tells the tale of Bringleclaw, a curmudgeonly villain desperate to return the flourishing kingdom of Betom back to the old ways, and a group of unlikely misfits determined to stop him.

Read the full story below!

 Chapter 1: Bringleclaw  

Far away, in a place that humans have scarcely seen, there was a kingdom called Betom, that had beautiful emerald green hills, sparkling bubbling brooks, tall, multi-colored trees that only you and I can dream of, and most of all: Magic. The magic that lived here dwelled everywhere, not just in the magical beings, but in the land itself, tucked away into the darkest corner, the smallest thorn, even small, unsuspecting insects! 

And you can only imagine how joyous the creatures that lived here were! The elves often held grand feasts and dances. The goblins, as fierce as they might seem, liked to play wondrous music when they were feeling especially happy and even the smallest fairies would go about, joining in any festivities they could. Of course, it wasn’t always like this. In the ancient days, the Goblins liked to cause all sorts of mischief, wreaking havoc in not only their own realm, but as many others as possible. 

But festivities and joyous occasions were the daily life for the citizens of Betom, and it went on for many years – the same things, the same celebrations.  But then one day, everything changed. 

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: Bringleclaw and the Cursed Pearl by Layla Mendoza”

Writing Challenge Winner: The Villain, the Traitor, and the Daredevil by Isaac McKinnie

Isaac McKinnie is a twelve-year old writer who participated in the 2022 Seafarer’s Writing Challenge in which he wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Isaac’s sci-fi thriller involves a young motorcyclist participating in a race that takes a drastic and traitorous detour.

Read the full story below!

Roads are dull. There is no other way to describe them. They are just slabs of concrete shaped to make a meaningless line. However, roads are even more mind-numbing when no one is using them. On these occasions it almost hurts to see a sight so boring. Luckily for the road next the small harbor in Winfred, Sasnak, this was hardly ever the case; and today was no exception.  If someone had been counting how many cars had passed through, they would have lost count in the first ten seconds.

Yet, in all the hustle and bustle of this road, one vehicle stood out. It was a motorcycle, a Hoss Boss to be exact. Its black body paint glistened like obsidian in the early afternoon sun. The beautiful Hoss Boss sped down the (still dull) road with the same amount of importance as King Arthur and his own steed would have. The driver was unfortunately neither wearing a helmet nor taking any safety precautions at all. You might say that he was not very smart. If you did, I would commend you for being smarter than him. However, he seemed to prefer riding without any safety measures. Dylan (for that was the name of the motorcycle rider) laughed as the salty sea wind blew back his black hair and lifted the smell of the ocean to his nostrils. After he finished admiring the view, he revved the engine and sped off. As he rode, he decided to take a route he had not taken yet before going to the meeting place. He sped and then took a random turn. This was what excited him about motorcycling the most: the constant adrenaline, the rush of fear when he took a sharp turn, and the idea that anything might happen. He wove his way around the roads until he finally found his way to the meeting place. There it was––an abandoned warehouse. Now, this warehouse might look like any other abandoned warehouse.  But if you went inside and walked through the abandoned warehouse you would find a tear in the wall. If you squeezed through that tear, you would see a small shed. It was there that Dylan met up with his friends.

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: The Villain, the Traitor, and the Daredevil by Isaac McKinnie”

Writing Challenge Winner: The Worst But Somehow the Best Summer Ever by Amy Rogers

Amy Rogers is a twelve-year old writer who participated in the 2022 Seafarer’s Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Amy’s contemporary story explores a young girl’s unexpected summer with her aunt which turns bloodier than expected.

Read the full story below!

Original artwork by Amy of her main character, Ana

I was happy with my life. No, I wasn’t just happy with my life, I loved it! I had indoor plumbing, electricity throughout the whole house, a comfortable smelling house [you know that nice scent when you come into a clean inviting house], and best of all I got to watch television and play video games! I didn’t have to worry about goats needing milked, and leaky roofs needing fixed, or even any chores at all. In short, I was a lazy, selfish, entitled princess who only cared about herself and nothing else.

But one day, a week before summer break, my father and stepmother told me something that changed my life forever…

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: The Worst But Somehow the Best Summer Ever by Amy Rogers”

Writing Challenge Winner: Captain Howe by Layla Mendoza

Layla Mendoza is a twelve-year old writer who participated in the 2022 Seafarer’s Writing Challenge in which she wrote a 5,000 word original short story this summer. Layla’s nautical adventure tells the swashbuckling tale of Captain Howe and the spell that changes his life.

Read the full story below!

There really was no explanation as to how Captain Howe’s vessel had ended up in the Pacific Ocean. He could have sworn that they were going to stay in the Atlantic waters, but nooooooo, they just had to end up in the Pacific Ocean, and right by the Ring of Fire, too, if he had read his maps correctly. 

“Uh, Cap’n’?” 

“WHAT?” Captain Howe shouted, banging one pudgy fist down on the wooden table where he was sitting. Maps and books that had been on the edge of the table fell to the floor, and his Cartographer, the one who had spoken, slumped a bit lower in his seat. 

“Uh, um, just that, we- ah- seem to be getting fairly close to some active volcanoes that are part of the Ring of Fire, if I’m right about where we are on the map. We aren’t exactly headed directly towards a volcano, but we might pass by one. But,” he shrugged his shoulders, “If you don’t want to take precautions-” 

“No, no,” Captain Howe said gruffly. “Do take precautions. Try to alter our course so that we don’t have the chance of getting blown up by a volcano.” 

Continue reading “Writing Challenge Winner: Captain Howe by Layla Mendoza”

Writing Challenge Winner: Red Strings by Olivia Kasych

Olivia is a 15 year old writer who has participated in many of the library’s writing challenges, including last summer’s Voyager Writing Challenge and this spring’s Bad Guy Writing Challenge. Red Strings is the sequel to Olivia’s first short story, Neutral Zone, and dives deeper into the motivations of the tormented villain, Vic!

Read Olivia’s first story here:

Check out her sequel below!

“What makes you think I was gonna kill him?”

Vick can admit that he is not the best person, but he certainly is not stupid. He knew the oblivious, helpless person he and Terrace quite literally stumbled upon was not to be killed. He may want the end of the AWs, Alternate Worlds, but he is not that evil.

“You brought us here anyway,” Vick accused. The first AW was not his ideal battle terrain, mostly because anything multiverse travelers, like himself, killed there killed its counterpart everywhere else.

“No I didn’t! You did!” Terrace yelled back up at Vick. Vick smirked. Even if he was not suspended on a swing, he was still taller than the short creator.

“I don’t recall ever thinking to put myself at a disadvantage.” Vick was not happy. He lowered himself to the ground. He stared directly into Terrace’s ever changing eyes.

“It’s not like you don’t make mistakes,” Terrace said. “We’re both human, Vick.”

“Human, huh?” Vick spat at him. The red markings wrapped around his arms glowed with a fiery intensity. Vick scowled at Terrace. He felt his familiar red strings flow down from the marks to his hands. He shot them toward part of the back porch. The strings wrapped themselves around the poor porch and paused. He shot Terrace a crazed grin. “What part of me is human?”

He gripped his hand into a fist. He swung his arm at Terrace as if he was throwing a shot-put. The strings strained and yanked the porch out of the ground. In a blur of wood, the porch was on a direct course toward Terrace. It landed with a huge ​Crash!​and…

missed Terrace. Vick knew that would happen, but was not in the mood. Terrace had teleported over to the fence gate.

“Missed me!” Terrace teased. Vick was fuming. He angrily directed his strings toward the nearest fence post, tore it out of the ground, and threw it at Terrace. He could not care less if he killed anyone else, he just wanted to wipe off Terrace’s smug grin.

He retreated his strings. Though he really wanted to make sure Terrace was at least scared, he did not want to stick around longer. ​Let Terrace take care of his own business​he thought, teleporting away from the destroyed yard.

Now, one may expect Vick to have some sort of huge base where he would monitor the whole multiverse. That is not the case. Because of the stereotypical villain, Vick’s “base” is in a small cabin in AW 27, another “magic filled” AW.

Vick’s teleportation destination landed him in the kitchen of said cabin. He took a peek in the fridge for anything that looked edible. Believe it or not, destroying useless worlds worked up an appetite. Vick took the leftover pancakes from breakfast and closed the fridge.

“Back already?” Vick heard someone say from the living room.

“Not like you’ve been anywhere,” Vick grumbled. “Dumb creator teleported the both of us to the original. I gave him a bit of a job to fix.” Vick heard laughter. He made his way to the living room and found the new(ish) recruit, dressed in all black, playing with a knife.

“The original’s found out, huh?” Blood laughed.

“Yep. Scared the kid out of his skin. You should have seen it, turned him white on the spot.” Vick started gnawing on one of the pancakes.

“My turn?” Blood asked excitedly, his eyes flashing red as if to seal his intentions.

“Go aheath,” Vick said, half a pancake dangling out of his mouth. “Whehe’s Lethon?”

“Lendon’s probably in his room,” Blood answered. “Later!” Blood teleported out of the room.

Vick finished his pancakes and sighed. Blood joined them —that is, the team— about two years ago. Vick never thought about time because it did not mean much for a multiverse traveler like himself. It changes too much from AW to AW that Vick just stopped caring.

Vick never asked Blood why he joined the team, but Blood always seemed to know where Terrace and Cerulean were. Vick just went with it. He was sure Lendon knew —he was the head of the team and he knew just about everything about each of them.

Lendon was originally from AW 17, which also had magic. Vick does not know much about his origin either, but does know Lendon is pretty powerful. Vick has seen him

level a city in seconds. He has also fought Terrace and Cerulean to a stalemate, which Vick has yet to do. Vick is not patient enough for it.

“Yo, Vick!” yelled someone. Vick snapped himself out of his thoughts and looked up. He saw another member of the team. He wore a blood red sweater and black jeans. He stared at Vick with his cyan eyes burning through his shaggy black hair.

“What do you want, Dultin?” Vick grumbled.

Dultin took playful offense as he flopped on the couch next to Vick. “Why do you always assume I want something whenever I talk to you?”

“Because you do.” The day before, Dultin asked Vick to help him find one of his guns. Dultin claimed it was his “favorite” and “couldn’t live without it.” They almost got caught by the police in five different AWs and Vick came home sore.

Dultin came from AW 30. His father was a police officer and taught Dultin everything about guns. Dultin said it was his “calling” whenever he told the story. He claimed he brought a gun to “show and tell” in Kindergarten and accidentally shot and killed one of his classmates. Vick was wary about the credibility of the story, but did not put it past him to do so.

“Okay, you got me,” Dultin said, raising his hands up as if he was getting arrested. “I only want to know where Blood is.” Vick forgot that Blood and Dultin had bonded over the past two years.

“Fine.” Vick closed his eyes and searched the entire multiverse for Blood. Luckily, he had a good idea about where he was. “Upmost. AW 10.” Dultin was stood up to leave. Vick grabbed his arm. “Let him be for a bit. He’s playing with the original.”

Dultin seemed to understand and sat back down.

~~~~~~~~~

Blood did not come back in the next hours.

Vick started assuming the worst. He could barely think, mostly because Dultin was constantly assembling and taking apart one of his handguns. Vick grew tired of the constant clinking of metal. He stood up.

“Fine!” he groaned. “We’ll look for him. Get your things. I have a trap.”

Dultin shot up, giddy to leave. “You think it’ll work? It’s about 11 pm original time.”

“It definitely will. Terrace wouldn’t miss.” Vick opened a portal. “Come on.” Dultin hopped into the portal as Vick followed, sealing the portal after entering the location.

They ended up in a field surrounded by forest. The clearing was almost miraculous.

Occasional dandelions popped up every once and awhile. It was about noon in that AW.

“You’ve never seen me destroy an entire world, have you?” Vick asked Dultin. Dultin shook his head no. “Well, today’s your lucky day.” Vick’s markings glowed blood red. Vick knelt on the ground and put both hands on the grassy field. He again felt his strings flow into his hands, but this time they slipped out and into the ground like worms. Vick got up. “The trap’s set.”

“What did you do?” Dultin asked with genuine curiosity.

“Each world has a ‘soul,’ so to speak,” Vick explained. “My strings can locate and destroy that ‘soul,’ leaving the world to rot and disappear. The process takes about 10 to 15 minutes. Quick and efficient. The only flaw is that Terrace can sense when my strings are close to the ‘soul’ and can get rid of them the same way I distribute them. That is our opening.”

“Which world is this, anyway?” Dultin asked, loading a pistol with one of his homemade bullets.

“AW 2,102,” Vick replied. He rolled his eyes. “There’s too much of the same trash.”

“Darn right.” Dultin laughed.

The pair of delinquents were treated to a bright flash of light. When the light diminished, Vick saw four silhouettes. Two obviously belonged to Terrace and Cerulean. The third was the original, Vick figured. Vick could not figure out who the fourth was. He seemed to be part of Cerulean’s shadow, dressed in all black as he was.

Then he caught sight of his face. Vick stared at him, a spike of disbelief shooting through his insides. He wondered what happened in the last few hours that caused this.

Dultin started laughing. The laugh turned dry, shooting imaginary daggers into their adversaries. “Yes, Vick, the trap worked,” he said. He directed his now loaded gun at the “shadow.” “Alas, it worked too well. We caught a ghost, and now it’s time to dispose of him.”

Dultin’s smile turned toxic. “Goodbye Blood.” Dultin loaded and fired his pistol in half a second, aiming it directly at Blood. There was no time for Blood to dodge. ​Better off without him​Vick thought.

A mind-numbing screech of metal was heard. Blood had decided to deflect the bullet, using a knife to cut the bullet before it hit him. The two pieces of the bullet fell harmlessly on either side of him. Sadly, the pieces did not hit anyone else.

Vick did not waste time. Arms glowing, he sent his strings toward Terrace and Cerulean. They wrapped around their necks, daring to choke them to death. Vick pulled and their eyes grew wide with fear. They started choking and clawed at the strings to try to get air.

They were cut free soon after. Vick glared at Blood, who had freed them. Vick redirected his attention to Terrace. The short creator had eyed him and was holding his paintbrushes. “You got the other three?” Vick half asked Dultin.

“Can’t wait to kill that traitor,” Dultin hissed.

“Just don’t kill Derick.” Dultin scoffed. Vick could not worry about that. He had to keep Terrace from saving the AW. And he had a great idea. In the long time that he and Terrace have been fighting, he knew he put others as more important than himself. That was his flaw. Vick wondered if Terrace would ever learn after being exploited so much.

Vick’s strings shot toward Derick. The “poor kid” did not know what hit him. Vick pinned Derick’s arms to his sides and suspended him in the air. Vick shot Dultin a look. Dultin smiled, pointed another one of his “special” guns at Derick, and fired.

Terrace looked terrified. He froze and looked up at Derick in disbelief. Cerulean displayed similar emotions —even crying, to Vick’s delight. Blood just stared at Dultin. The gaze held back a hurricane of emotions, ready to be unleashed.

Vick watched as Blood almost doubled over, clutching his side as if he had taken the bullet. Vick smirked. “Dultin, what was in the bullet?” he asked playfully, getting everyone’s attention.

“Well!” Dultin responded excitedly. “That was one of my special concoctions! It locates magical bonds in the recipient and exploits the connection!” Dultin stared at Blood. “I wanted to use it on Cerulean, but you —you lying traitor— deserved it more.”

Derick started coughing. He was struggling to get out of the strings, but to no avail. Vick only tightened his bindings. Derick was staring at the ground in fear. “C-Cerulean? Why’s the ground red?” Cerulean and Terrace gave him a terrified look.

Vick smirked. “Looks like someone forgot why they were here. Forgetful creator,” he teased Terrace while shaking his head. Vick turned his attention to Derick and shot him a crazed smile. “That’s what a world looks like before it’s destroyed. Terrace was being slow, as always.” He nodded at Dultin. “Hope you all enjoyed your little late night expedition. I sure did.”

“Burn…in…hell,” Blood said, still holding his side in pain. “You know…you didn’t.”

Dultin’s instinctual course of action was to shoot Blood with another one of the special bullets. The bullet passed through Blood’s head without spilling any blood. Derick let out a strained yelp in pain. Vick dropped the now passed out kid from his strings. Terrace ran to catch the kid in time and, unfortunately, did. Vick almost signaled Dultin to leave when Cerulean also dropped. This shocked Vick. Any new connections like that shine like a beacon to Vick. ​That connection is nowhere near new​he realized.

He motioned at Dultin that it was time to leave. They both teleported out of there, just as the ground started collapsing. They arrived back at their base and just… stood in the living room.

“That traitor!” Dultin yelled, kicking over the living room couch. “I swear, I’m going to kill him after ghosting us like that!”

Vick was also mad. Blood was the last person he saw deserting and flipping sides. Honestly, he thought that if Dultin ever had therapy, he would be first. Dultin did what he did because he thought it was fun. Vick always saw that as a poor reason, so he always thought Dultin would desert.

He, Lendon, and Blood all had solid reasons, he assumed. As already mentioned, he did not know much about either of the two, but he pieced together that Blood has something against Cerulean. Vick did not know what, but after what happened with the bullets, he knew it was deep.

Lendon was still a mystery. Vick had no idea of how he even got so powerful in the first place. He just remembers when Lendon recruited him to his team. Vick could feel his power. It emanated from him like a radio signal that Vick could pick up and listen to. He remembered feeling uneasy as his fierce orange eyes stared into him as he spoke.

Vick was snapped back into reality as Dultin toppled the couch again. He was still angry about Blood. Dultin stormed off to his room. Vick figured he should go to his room also. He thought about telling Lendon, but Vick had a feeling he already knew.

Vick went up the staircase in the back of the room toward his room. It was the first door on the right. He opened the door to his bland room. He never bothered to decorate. He didn’t like clutter, and didn’t see any reason in doing so. He wasn’t in his room much anyway.

He was, however, exhausted. He plopped on his bed and went out like a light.

He was in a white and black area. He didn’t bother looking around. He knew where he was. The landscape swirled with the white and black colors, but nothing else could be seen. He also knew that. He did not know why he tried every time. Where was he? Well, he was home. His AW.

There was nothing. Vick did not know what happened, but what was supposed to be an actually livable space with other people only turned out to be him. He could not count the number of times he had false hopes about someone being out there and disappointed when there was not. Sometimes, the area would play tricks on him and the blackness would shape like a person and then disappear.

He always dreams of being here. He cannot remember ever having a “good” dream. He always looked at the other AWs in disgust. They had so much when he had nothing. That is why he is so numb.

He simply does not care.

He did not always have the marks, either. They were blood. When he was stuck there, he would often think and dream about death. That was the only way out he saw. He would constantly dream of killing himself and the like. One time, his dream did not go away and he found the markings on his arms. The strings were painful at first, it was like shaping his own blood, but he grew numb to it.

Leaving was a complete accident. Vick remembered wishing to be somewhere better and he was instantly in a forest. He instantly knew he was not home. He heard birds and excited shouts. He followed them to a campsite with about five tents. Kids were running about as parents watched loosely while conversing with each other.

Vick was mad. He did not know that was out there. Why did he not get any of that? Why did he have to live in that nightmarish landscape while they had everything? His markings glowed blood red

Vick stared up at his ceiling. That was the first world he destroyed. It was the 3,979th AW. He never regretted destroying it. He knew it had only been an hour. He could never sleep for long and hunger was never a concern for him. He could go a very long time without eating and be fine. Eating was more of a “hobby” to him, so to speak. He did not care if it was abnormal. Nothing about him was normal anyway.

He really only joined because he was tired of his place and he thought it would be interesting. He doesn’t mind working for Lendon but made sure to tell Lendon that it would be no deal if he could not do as he pleased at times. Lendon agreed to it and welcomed him aboard. Vick made a point to destroy the world they were in before following Lendon. That was AW 1,249.

Terrace was an almost immediate acquaintance after he left his AW, but before Lendon (which was almost one and a half years after he started). Terrace was very confusing to him. He did not try to kill Vick, but also reversed the destruction of the AW. Confusion turned to anger and Vick decked Terrace before teleporting away. He hit a few other AWs before going back to his home.

Vick was not patient. He was, however, very easily distracted by his thoughts. A few days could go by and he would not have noticed unless something happened to or near him. He called this one of his “trances.” He blamed it on his sociopathic behavior. He luckily never did this during a fight. Plus, he never liked patience. He saw it as useless and wasteful. If he wanted to wait around, he would not have left.

Terrace also lacked patience, in his eyes. Their fights never lasted long and he could tell by the way Terrace used his attacks. Surprisingly, Vick found that attacks say a lot about a person. Vick deduced that Terrace was an outgoing person and would never kill anyone.

Someone was saying his name. He got off his bed and sauntered down the stairs to the living room. “Look who decided to show up!” Dultin smirked. Vick saw both Dultin and Lendon looking at him. Lendon looked like he had a plan. He was wearing his normal green shirt, grey pants, brown boots, and orange gloves. His aura hung around him like a magnetic field.

Vick took his seat on the fixed couch. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

“Thanks to Dultin’s… experiment,” Lendon started. “We know three of our four adversaries have a magic bond of varying magnitude. Any magic bonds strengthen both/all participants, thus decreasing our chances of defeating them. If we single out the one without any magic ties to the others, we should be able to lure the rest into any trap we may set. For instance, if we kept Terrace locked up here, we could count on the other three coming to us. But, we would have to keep Derick out of it.”

“Why though?” Dultin asked. “He’s weak and inexperienced.” He pointed a finger gun at Vick’s head. “Just one well placed shot and—” He jerked his hand back in recoil as if he shot Vick. “Well, no more problem.”

“Dultin, he’s the original!” Vick hissed. “We can’t kill him.”

“We don’t know what he may be capable of,” Lendon continued. “I intend on finding out one way or another. After we successfully capture Terrace, we will be able to ‘take out’ Derick. I’m thinking of the Prison. Thoughts?”

The Prison was an abandoned military base near their cabin. Each holding cell had soundproof walls and security cameras. It was easy to monitor and there was no way to know if anyone else was in there with you. Vick saw it as perfect. He nodded his head in approval.

“Finally!” Dultin said.

“Very well,” Lendon said, looking between the two killers. “The plan will start as soon as possible. Places, everyone.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vick was out again. He had the task of luring out Terrace, which would be very easy.

Another AW, another seed planted. Vick waited.

Terrace came alone. ​Perfect​Vick thought. Terrace did not have time to react when Vick strangled him enough to make him pass out. Vick dropped Terrace off in one of the cells in the Prison.

Not even a second later, Dultin came back with a passed out Derick. Dultin paraded him around down to his cell like a hunter carrying a deer he killed home. Vick thought for a second that Derick was dead, but they were all still there so it was not the case. ​Now, we wait, ​Vick thought. And wait they did. An almost 40 minutes.

Cerulean and Blood turned up near their base— glorified house. Vick could feel them coming in the Prison’s direction. He told Dultin to get ready. “This is exciting!” Dultin replied, playing with a switch in the control room of the Prison. The two entered the complex. Dultin and Vick watched them through the various security cameras placed in the maze-like hallways.

The moment came. “Now!” Vick shouted at Dultin. Dultin slammed the switch down and a sliding steel door slid between the two. The now separated pair tried to open/destroy the door, but nothing happened. They continued on their separate ways. Vick radioed Lendon: “He’s all yours.”

Lendon was waiting for Cerulean. He did not give any details on what he would do, so Vick and Dultin watched the security tapes intriguingly. Cerulean walked back the way he came. He took a left near the entrance and stopped at another crossroad. He took another left and a right at another crossroad. All along the walls are doors leading to cell after cell after cell. “Close the left door,” Vick told Dultin. At the upcoming intersection, the left door closed. Cerulean’s only options were right or backtrack. Cerulean took the right.

That was where Lendon was. Cerulean stopped and started backing away from him. Dultin was about to close the door behind him, but Lendon made a magical barrier, blocking Cerulean’s escape. Vick heard Dultin snicker. To be honest, Cerulean’s terrified face was hilarious, but Vick shut him up.

“Poor Cerulean,” Lendon sneered. “A weak shell of a human that wanted too much. Now look where that got you. Your so-called ‘friends’ are gone and it’s all your fault.”

“No, no!” Cerulean said, still deathly afraid. “I couldn’t have known!”

“Maybe,” Lendon smiled. “But, think about it. If you didn’t split yourself, maybe you could’ve found them and left by now. That’s not done by now because you’re weak and pathetic.”

“No… no!” Cerulean shook his head. Cerulean was frozen still by an orange glow around him. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, quit lying to yourself. It’s tiring, really.” Lendon walked toward Cerulean. Cerulean tried moving away, but the orange magic held him in place. Lendon tilted Cerulean’s head toward him so they made eye contact.

“No!” Cerulean tried looking away, but couldn’t. A blinding orange light filled the security camera. After blinking away the after effects, Vick saw only Cerulean in the corridor. He walked over to the dropped radio and radioed the duo in the control center. “Open the doors,” he said. He stared directly at the security camera.

They saw his eyes and immediately opened the doors. His eyes glowed the same orange as Lendon’s. ​Well, he can possess people now ​Vick thought. He cracked a smile. “He’s certainly full of surprises,” Vick said aloud.

“You bet!” Dultin said. “This just got better!”

“It sure did,” Vick said as they continually stared at the cameras. ​One more to go​he kept to himself.

Lendon was approaching Blood. Blood must have sensed him because he said: “What do you want, Lendon?”

“Blood!” Lendon said as Cerulean. “I found the switches to the doors and opened them. We should continue looking together.”

“I’m not a naive fool, Lendon!” Blood continued without turning around. “Leave me alone! I’m not going to be part of your team anymore!”

Lendon laughed. “That’s crazy Blood!” Cerulean’s voice said. “Why would I want you back? You obviously can’t be trusted.” Blood finally turned around.

“Cerulean?!” Blood shouted in surprise. Lendon stared at Blood.

“It would be easier to kill you now!” Cerulean’s voice took a dark turn as Lendon lunged for Blood’s throat. Blood sidestepped Lendon. He threw a knife in his direction. Lendon latched onto it with magic and used its momentum to fling it back at Blood. The knife destroyed the door behind Blood.

“No way!” Dultin yelled.

“What?” Vick asked.

“That’s where I put Derick! How did he know?!”

Cerulean did not convey any emotional reaction. Blood helped Derick out of the wreckage. “ ‘Really accurate hunches’, huh?” Derick teased.

“Hey, I got you out, didn’t I?” Blood responded. Blood shoved Derick behind himself. “Go find Terrace. I’ll deal with Lendon.”

“Who’s—?” Derick began to ask before he started glowing orange. He was struggling against the translucent bindings.

Lendon smirked. “You’re not going anywhere,” Cerulean’s voice said.

“Let him go, Lendon!” Blood threatened.

“Sure.” Lendon threw Derick against a wall. The wall was damaged on impact and debris went everywhere. Blood tried to protect himself from the blast, but Vick could see clear cuts in his sweats.

Derick was not unscathed. He had a huge cut on his cheek and Vick bet that he had popped his arm out of socket. He had many other minor cuts everywhere. He struggled to get up, using the wall as some sort of crutch. He looked at Lendon. “Why?” he asked. “Why Cerulean?”

“Cerulean’s not here,” Lendon smirked. Blood walked up behind Lendon and tried to hit him with the blunt end of his knife. Lendon froze him and sent him flying into one of the

other cells. “You’re very annoying, Blood.” He sighed. “It’s not like you’ll actually try to kill me. Though you might’ve wanted to kill him, you can’t kill Cerulean.”

The dust cleared and Blood was staring Lendon down. “… heh heh…” he laughed. “Who said I was trying to kill you?” Blood looked like he would drop down any moment. He threateningly raised a glowing red knife at Lendon. “By now, Derick’s been looking for Terrace. You really are unobservant idiots.” He eyed the security camera on the wall, which was directly at Vick and Dultin.

Vick was mad. He did not like that he was that easily distracted. “Where is he?” he wondered aloud while searching the cameras.

“There he is!” Dultin pointed at one of the screens. Derick was walking quickly; it seemed as if he already knew where Terrace was. Vick realized he was heading in the right direction.

“I’ll go stop him,” Vick told Dultin. “Keep watching Lendon, just in case something goes wrong.” Dultin puffed up in resistance, but did not make any moves to challenge Vick.

Vick teleported to where Derick was last seen. He did not want to accidentally hit Terrace’s cell while he tried to stop Derick, so he concocted a plan. His arms glowed red as he pursues Derick, who was getting dangerously close to the cell. He shot his arm forward, his strings lashing out toward their target. They grabbed onto Derick, promptly stopping his progress and incapacitating him.

Derick let out a surprised shout as he was yanked backward. Vick’s strings pulled him back like a fishing rod being reeled in. Vick grabbed Derick and teleported the both of them to the one place that Vick knew would do nicely.

The landscape swirled around their arrival. Nothing made a sound. The endlessness was welcoming Vick home. “Home sweet home,” he said.

“Where—?” Derick tried asking before a tight squeeze from his bindings shut him up. He seemed to be shaking from pain. Vick has almost forgotten about his injury earlier.

Vick laughed. “You’re lucky,” he said. “You’re the first to see this place. There is nothing here. This AW has no number anymore. Such a fitting place for someone like me.” Vick’s strings let go of Derick. ​It’s not like he can do anything​he figured.

Derick hit the floor immediately. He used his right arm to help himself up as his left hung limp. He managed to get himself into a sitting position. “This… is where you’re from?” he asked. Vick shrugged, not interested in the slightest. “Do you have any family? Friends?”

“What part of ‘there is nothing here’ do you not understand?” Vick snapped. His markings glowed in his anger.

Derick flinched at the retribution. “So, you’re really alone here? That’s—”

“I don’t want your pity. I don’t care anymore.”

Derick looked a bit annoyed at Vick’s interruption, but thought a bit before talking again. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Being alone like this?”

“What did I say about pity?” Vick spat daggers. “And what would you know?”

“Nothing,” Derick shrugged. “I’ve never been secluded like this. As for my knowledge, only you have. Only you can find a way to deal with it.”

“It doesn’t affect me anymore.”

Derick laughed. “That’s like saying history is nonessential. Vick, being numb is not coping. It’s blatant ignorance. You can’t say you’ve moved on without, well, ‘moving on.’ It’s obvious you haven’t.”

Vick laughed. The longer it went on, the crazier it was. “That’s what Terrace has been saying all this time. I don’t need two of him.” Vick’s strings reattached themselves around Derick and lifted him into the air. Vick opened a portal back to the Prison underneath him. He slammed Derick down through it and jumped in after. Vick’s strings receded.

Derick hit the floor with the satisfying sound of bones breaking. Derick shakingly stood up and trudged over to one of the cells. Vick was about to follow when he saw Lendon, the real him, get flung into the cell Derick passed. The door cracked open and, well, curse their luck, Terrace jumped out of the cell. He caught notice of Derick and immediately generated his paintbrushes and painted him into some state of health. Derick looked surprised, but didn’t say anything.

Blood walked toward them with a limp. He had with him a non possessed Cerulean looking emotionally unstable. Blood devil stared at Lendon. “Don’t you dare mess with Cerulean like that again!” Lendon only hissed his denial.

Terrace looked between Vick and Lendon. “Your plan didn’t work,” he said. “Good job! Bravo!” he teased.

“Terrace,” Cerulean rolled his eyes. Terrace shrugged and teleported out of the Prison.

Cerulean and Derick followed, leaving Blood alone.

Blood stared at an overhead security camera. “You’re so lazy, Dultin,” he said shaking his head. He left promptly.

Vick sighed. He knew they lost. He caught Lendon’s smile.

Vick knew it was not over yet. Not as long as they three were there would it ever be over. Vick also smiled. He would be seeing them soon.

VERY soon.

Writing Challenge Winner: In the Shadows by Marley Bowker

Marley is a 13 year old writer who participated in the Spring 2020 Bad Guy Writing Challenge. Below is her creepy and action-packed short story about a family plagued by a strange nature spirit that roams their house.

Chapter 1

It peered down on the family from the tall tree where it had been stationed for the past hour observing them. “Hold on, watch this real quick” says Lili’s dad. Laughs fade to silence, and eyes flick towards him, as he throws a piece of what looks to be plastic into the large bonfire. After only a couple of seconds, the fire bursts out into a beautiful blue color, with purple streaks and if you look hard enough, even a very faint tone of green.

Everyone is silent, observing the fire in awe as the colors fade back into the traditional array of warm colors. As the night takes over on the chilly evening in the town of Springwood Pennsylvania, the Locke family decides to head inside as their bonfire grows smaller. Lili, the second oldest child, with two younger sisters and an older brother, decides to stay out after the rest of the family for just a few minutes. She liked watching when their monthly bonfires slowly die out, especially towards the end of the fire when all the tiny flames dance in the glowing red pieces of wood at the bottom of the pile.

Lili found it very awing that the giant piles of leaves, sticks, branches, and the occasional piece of broken furniture from the home could turn into a way smaller mound of ash that could be disposed of by simply blowing it around the yard. As the last few flames danced in the breeze, she saw something amongst the treeline. Two balls of warm white light, like a reflection. She giggled, because she knew it was her brother hiding trying to scare her as he normally did. However, when there was no response back, she became skeptical. She saw the two reflections go away for only a second, then appear right back in the same spot, like they were blinking. At that point, she was certain it was her brother trying to scare her, and he had simply blinked because he didn’t realise that you could see the reflection of their eyes.

And that’s when the thought hit her- human eyes don’t reflect light, such as the light from the fire which was probably causing it. Lili saw the eyes slowly moving, as if the unknown creature was moving, and then the eyes disappeared into the darkness in the forest. Just then, she heard a large crash from the trees as she had turned to head back to the house. There was another one. Then another. She recognized the sound as falling trees, but there was no noise indicating someone had cut them down such as a chainsaw. They were also falling at a rate that no person could cut down that quickly. One right after another, there must have been two trees falling every five seconds. Spooked, she sprinted back to the house, and ran into the bathroom to shower and get the smell of smoke, which she had grown to love over time, off of her body and out of her long, brown hair. Lili was just turning the water on in the shower when she heard something downstairs fall and break, so she decided to brave the walk down the stairs and see what had happened.

Then she saw it- her mother laying in her husband’s arms. The floor was covered with blood, and there were two huge gashes on the backs of her calves. Lili’s mom, dad, and the kitchen floor were drenched blood spatter, as if something had come behind her and slashed her legs open. Her dad picked up the phone, and tried to call an ambulance, or someone that could help. Just as he had hit the call button, the phone just beeped like there was no service. The only other time she had heard that noise was right after a category 4 hurricane had hit near her home along the border of Pennsylvania, and torn the power lines right in half. How could that be? Lili thought, because the power was still on.

“Dad, I’m going to check on the lines outside to see if something happened to them. Try and figure out what happened to mom!” She grabbed the flashlight off the table, and ran outside to check. As the light flooded the darkness, she saw that a single part of the line was cut cleanly in half. The two halves were swaying as if there was wind that was blowing them around, but there wasn’t. The breeze had gone away. That could only mean one thing, Lili thought. The line had to have been cut very recently if they were still swaying like that. She shined the light around the lines looking for an answer. She didn’t see anything. She was shining the light all the way down both sides of the cables until the light could not shine any further. But when she flashed it back to where it was originally cut, there it was again.

That pair of eyes shining in the darkness. Again, reflecting the light, only this time, it was the flashlight and not the fire. Lili could not see exactly where the eyes were shining, but she felt that they were staring straight into hers. They blinked again, and the creature started moving. It began slowly, and then all at once, began leaping from one post to the next. She was in shock at how it could move like that, because all the posts must have been at least thirty feet apart from each other. Shining the flashlight towards whatever was jumping, she saw a large bony body, light grey in color, and it had almost looked transparent. Lili still had no clue what it could be, but one thing she knew for sure, and that was that it definitely could not be human.

She then ran as quickly as possible back into the house to tell her dad what she had seen. But when she tried getting inside the door, it was locked. She banged on it for someone to let her in, but within twenty seconds no one answered it. So she ran over to grab the ladder and come back in her window that she knew was unlocked. She set the ladder on the house, and climbed up onto a part of the roof, where she then pushed it back down so nothing could follow her, and ran to her window. She had always left it unlocked because the doors sometimes got jammed and they needed a way to get inside the house, but when she went to pull it open, it was locked. She tried every other window, but they were all locked too. Lili ran back to where she had put the ladder so she could get back down and try another way, but when she got there, she realized that she had pushed the ladder down, and she was now stuck on the roof.

Chapter 2

               Don’t think you’re getting away that easy, sweetheart. It thought. Good luck getting down without a ladder. You want to take my family away from me? Two can play at that game. My nest used to belong where your huge brick nest is that you’re constantly inside. Sleeping, eating, everything. Why your nest is so much bigger than mine was, I don’t know. But I’m going to take care of it. Once and for all. Good luck to you all, Locke’s.

The games have begun. It watched Lili scrambling to the windows looking for a way down, but there was nothing. Windows? Locked. Ladders? Tipped over. There was nothing she could do. The drop down from the first story section of the roof was still a nine foot drop. Curse you, country houses for having such high roofs she thought. Then she remembered she had a trampoline in her back yard. She tried running around on the roof on the first story, but it got blocked off before she was at the point she could jump. So she climbed up onto the second story section, which was very easy as part of it came down close to the first story roofing above the porch.

So she got up there, and eventually made her way around to the back of the house. Looking up from the trampoline onto the roof had not looked like that tall of a drop, but now that she looked where she had to land and how far down it was, she was hesitant. She had to drop nearly two stories and jump out six feet to hit the edge of the trampoline. It was very dark too, since none of the back lights had been turned on because they were motion sensors. This is the only way. I have to do this. For mom. She took a large breath, and jumped as she exhaled, pushing forward with all her strength. She landed on the trampoline, and fell through the padding onto the ground. Could’ve been worse. And then she got up- almost. She noticed that her leg was bent in a way it should not have been bending. That’s when the pain set in. Nothing hurt her until she realized that there was something wrong with her leg and that it was messed up somehow.

The pain quickly seared through her ankle and up to her knee. It was like someone had struck it with a metal club that was on fire. She tried to touch it, but she instantly regretted it as she had touched her ankle directly on the injury. She tried to pull herself to her feet from the metal framing of the trampoline, but when she got on her feet, she fell right back down. What am I supposed to do? Mom and Dad are in serious trouble and I can’t even be there for them! Lili thought, tears rolling down her cheeks, pale from fright. She eventually got on her feet again and began hopping on one foot, headed for the back door. She tried to stand on her hurt foot, but it could not yet support her. So she continued hobbling on her right foot until she reached the back door.

She pulled it open, and walked in between the counters and used them almost like crutches. She turned the corner into the dining room and saw that her mom and dad were still in the same peril state. She bent down and touched her mother’s head, making sure she knew Lili was there too. Her mother slowly looked at her, eyes red and wet. “Lili, honey, you know I love you right?” These words brought tears to Lili’s eyes as well, knowing what the next few following sentences would bring. She nodded. “You know that wherever I may go, I’ll always be right here with you, don’t you?” Her heart dropped. “Yes”. Lili looked up at her dad, who was trying very hard to hide the fact that he was hurting. But Lili could tell he was crying, both on the inside and on the outside.

It was at this moment she realized how much blood her mother had really lost. She didn’t have anything to say. She just bent over and gave her mom a hug. She didn’t care that her shirt was covered in blood at that point, she just cared that she was with her mother, while her mother was still with her. Her dad pulled out his phone to try to call someone one last time, and to everyone’s shock, it worked.

He called an ambulance and they were out in nearly ten minutes. They put Lili’s mom on a stretcher and took her away. At that point her dad quit trying to be strong. He grabbed Lili and held her, sobbing. She held him just at tight as he had. “I love you baby girl” he said. “I love you too dad.” Those were the last words they spoke to each other for the next twenty minutes. Eventually they got in the pickup truck, and headed to the hospital. They weren’t allowed in the ambulance simply because there would have been too many people, but nevertheless, they were on their way.

Chapter 3

               They arrived at the hospital half an hour later, and they sat down in the waiting room. This gave Lili time to think about everything. What it was, who it was, what it’s problem was with her family, and why it was trying to hurt them. It had nearly killed her mother already, who knows what else it could do. She tried to think about all the stories she’d read as a girl, about all these different kinds of paranormal and extraterrestrial creatures that may or may not exist. She’d always been a fan of stories and documentaries on the subject, but she never thought she would be living in one. She gave herself a list of things to figure out; what it was, why it was targeting her family, and what it wanted. She thought and thought for hours on end and never came up with anything. There was no lead. They hadn’t done anything spiritual that might have triggered it such as a ouija board. “Hey dad?” He looked over at her. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Seen what?”

“That creature, the one that hurt mom?”

“What creature? You know what did this to her?”

“I think so. I went outside to check why you couldn’t call anyone earlier, and I saw this thing on the power lines. It wasn’t the first time I had seen it either. Do you remember the other night when we had the bonfire in the yard?” He nodded. “Along the treeline facing the back of the house really far away I saw it then too.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just someone from the other side of the tree line? There are a couple of houses on the opposite side like ours.” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Human eyes don’t reflect light, that thing’s did. I have no clue what is going on.” Lili looked down at the cast on her ankle and wondered why she jumped from the highest spot instead of hanging off the edge and dropping. She would have only been a couple feet off the ground. And it would have saved her a lot of pain. It was too late at that point, however. Her thoughts wandered back to her mom. She wondered when she would get to see her, and if she would be okay. About an hour of thinking later, she still had come up with no explanation, nor a place to start.

A nurse came into the waiting room from a door across the room. “Are the Locke’s here?” Lili’s dad shot up from his chair, and Lili followed. She giggled at the fact that there was an indention where her dad had been sitting, but the joke quickly escaped her mind when they walked through the doors into a long hallway. The nurse showed them where Lili’s mom was staying, opened the door to the room, and stepped aside so they could walk in. She let the door close behind them as she continued down the hallway to do her job. The room scared Lili, as there were multiple tubes coming out of her mom’s arms, and machines beeping, over and over. She felt trapped. She watched the heart monitor continue in the same path. With each beep, it would spike, then go back down. Then again, and again, and again. It never sped up, it never slowed down. Until it did.

“Hey mom, can you hear me?” No response. The nurse had told them that because of the medicine she had given her, she might be unresponsive because she was sleeping. Lili reached for her hand, and laid hers on top of her moms.

“I know you’re in there, mom. Keep fighting. Don’t give up on us. You can’t give up on us. I need you.” Silence followed by the beeping of the monitor. Then it began speeding up. A lot. Doctors burst into the room and ordered the family out. So they left the room in a panic. They turned to look from outside the window on the side, but the curtain closed on them. They could hear faint shouting coming from the other side of the room.

“Is she going to be okay, Dad? Please tell me she is going to be fine.” He did not respond for a few seconds.

“I don’t know yet, Tiger.” Tiger. She’d been called Tiger once before by her dad, and that was when she fell off of her bicycle when she was younger and broke her arm. That sent a wave of shock over her, and her heart dropped yet again. The same nurse began walking towards them from the direction she had left earlier, and ushered them to another waiting room. There were no people in this one, and it was much smaller. This room had to be four times smaller than the normal one, with only ten chairs and a small coffee table. A TV was mounted to the wall, and it was broadcasting some little kid show Lili had never seen before. Just like in any other waiting room, the volume had been turned down very quiet. In that room they sat.

One hour, two hours, three hours. The room had gradually become darker as dusk had set in. Finally, someone had come into the room. By that point, both Lili and her dad were dozing off, and the sudden burst of the door startled them both awake. It took them a second to realize where they were but once they did, the doctor took them to see Lili’s mom. The doctor said that she had a seizure, but that she was stable as of right now. Lili walked over to see her mother with bags under her eyes. Meanwhile, the creature was trying to find where the Locke’s were at. They were not inside nor outside the house. It had checked already. Maybe I finally got rid of that stupid family. They decided to take my family away from me, don’t think I’ve forgotten that easily. The creature posted up on the roof, scanning the surrounding area for signs of the family. But when nothing came up, it moved on. I’ll be back in the morning. Prepare yourselves Lockes. I will get my revenge. Don’t you doubt it for a second. And just as quickly as it had appeared, it sped off into the treeline.

Chapter 4

               As they drove away from the hospital, Lili’s mother began to speak. “I’m still so confused as to what happened.”

“Something attacked you, Mom. What do you remember? Did you see it? Hear it? Tell me everything.” Lili said.

“I didn’t see much, all I remember was that I was at the counter making sandwiches for dinner that night, and something knocked me to the ground. I could not see what it was, I just felt a sharp pain in the backs of my legs. When I turned around to see what happened, nothing was there. I tried to scream for someone to come help me, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t. Then I passed out and woke up in that hospital bed.”

Lili pondered on this for a bit. If that creature she had seen multiple times before was the culprit, it would make sense. Her mother said it was quiet, and she never heard anything. Lili didn’t hear anything when it was leaping away on the telephone poles. Her mom said it was so fast she could not see it. That thing had been pretty quick when Lili saw it. It all connected.

Okay, well at least I’ve got somewhere to start now Lili thought. I know now that the creature I saw was probably what hurt mom. I still don’t have the why, but at least I have the who. The Lockes got home, and at that point it was nearly two in the morning, so everyone went to bed.

When Lili woke up the next morning, she went downstairs to make herself some breakfast, thinking this whole thing would be over and done with. But after her parents did not come down stairs, she became skeptical. She went upstairs to check on them at about noon, which was way late for them to get up, as they are early risers and are usually out and about by nine. She opened the door to her parents room, but they were not there. Lili searched the whole house, but could not find anyone. She soon pulled out her phone, and called her dad. No answer. Then she tried her mom. No answer. She went outside to look for them out there, because sometimes they liked to go out to the pastures and groom the horses and milk the cows. But they were not there.

In fact, nothing was there. The cows were all gone, and so were the horses and chickens. She checked and even the eggs were gone from the coop. This had never happened before. She tried calling again, but there was still no answer. Eventually she began running back to the house, and called her mom one more time. This time, instead of hearing her own phone ring, she heard her mom’s ringtone going off in the distance. Confused and terrified, she called again and again, until she found the source of the sound. Lili found both of her parents’s phones laying right next to each other, perfectly straight. None of this made any sense. And then that is when she saw the eyes again. Along the treeline yet again, but instead of being at her house looking towards the trees, she was only yards away. They blinked, and moved forward. It was at this moment Lili realized how large the creature really was, towering above her nearly as tall as her house did.

“Lili, I see we finally meet face to face.” She heard the voice, it was deep and monotone. She did not see a mouth for a moment, because the creature was black. Really black. Darker than the night sky. When she did eventually find it, it looked like someone had attempted to stitch it closed and failed. Skin stretched between the lips as it’s mouth opened, making it even more terrifying than it was before. “Who are you, and what do you want with me? Where are my mom and dad?” Lili shouted at the creature.

“Me? I’m surprised you don’t remember me, Lili Locke.” A shiver ran down her back.

“Who are you!” She screamed.

“Oh honey, you shouldn’t be worried about me. It is your parents you should be concerned about. Do you know where they are?” Silence. “Oh, that’s right. I have them. You guys took my family from me and left me alone for years, so I am going to do the same to you, Lili Locke.”

“Why are you doing this?” She shouted at it, tears beginning to sting her eyes.

“You killed my family when you built this house. You took away the only people I have ever loved. So I am going to  do the same to you.” The creature pulled out an arm with long, sharp looking fingers, which only added to the terrifying aspect of this creature. It pointed behind the tree line, where there was an open area. It was at this point she saw her mother and father, wrapped in web-like material, from there feet to their necks. They were motionless and their eyes were closed. “What family are you talking about? Who did we take from you?”

“My mother, my father, and my brothers and sisters. When you burned down the forest to create this area of land to build your giant house on, you burned my family’s home. I was the only lucky one that was able to get out!”

Chapter 5

               “What even are you?” Lili asked.

“That doesn’t matter! Who do you all think you are, to come to my forrest, burn it all, and claim the land as your own? Why should you get to keep your family, but I lost mine?”

“Because I didn’t do anything to deserve to lose my family!”

“And you think I did? I was very young, I had known my family for less then a year! You’ve had yours way longer, and it’s finally time you feel what i’ve felt all along.” Lili went stiff as a board. She had no clue what to say.

“We aren’t the ones who burned your forest! This house has been here longer then any of us have been alive!” Even though Lili knew this was a lie, she had to try everything she could in order to save her family. Years ago, many before she was born, they had bought out the plot of land and burned it to make a new life here. They had hundreds of acres of forest burned down for them, and never replanted a single tree.

“LIES! I watched your father light the match and toss it at the tree! Don’t try and lie to me, Lili Locke, you WILL regret it.” the creature got closer to her face. This made Lili very uncomfortable, and she stumbled backwards.

“I’ve seen what your family can and will do to get their way. And I think it’s finally time they pay for that, don’t you?”

“Please, you’ve got to take piddy on me, I wasn’t even alive yet when it happened, please don’t punish me!”

“It’s too late. Begging isn’t going to do anything. I wish you would see that already.” The creature leaped over the tall trees back into the clearing where Lili’s parents were being kept. She sprinted as fast as possible towards them, and stood in front of them. She shook them aggressively, but they did not come out of their state.

“Wake up! Mom! Dad! Don’t leave me like this!!” she screamed, but it was useless.

“Move child, or you’re going with them.” The creature said. She did not budge. Lili simply stood there in between her parents, as if she was guarding them.

“Dang it kid, I said move!” The creature was now only half a foot away from her face. She could feel it breathing on her as she reached up and grabbed it’s head. She punched it multiple times, until eventually it threw her off of him. Thats when something happened that no one expected. Lili’s eyes shone bright green beams of light, and began rising into the sky.

“Let. Them. Go. Now.” She said.

“Silly girl, haven’t you realized by now-” he was cut off. The same green appeared in his eyes that were in Lili’s eyes.

 “Wha- Whats happening?” it cried. Lili watched as it began fading colors, shifting grey, then white, until it was nearly transparent. Thats when everything began to pan out. With the loudest BOOM Lili had ever heard, the creature was gone. The explosion sent her flying backwards towards the ground, and she blacked out. When she came to, she saw her mom standing over her. She sat up, wondering what had happened.

“Where am I?” she asked. Her mom simply giggled.

“Honey, you’re still in bed. It’s time to wake up, you’ve slept way longer than usual. Are you feeling alright?” Lili was just confused at this point.

“Wait, but how did you get out of the web nets?” Her parents now looked as confused as Lili.

“What web nets, you crazy?” Her mom said, laughing.

“The ones the creature wrapped you up in! You and dad were both stuck and when I tried to shake you awake, you didn’t wake up!”

“Sweetheart, I think you’ve been dreaming a lot lately. Come on, I made breakfast. It’s your favorite, scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon! It’s real bacon this time too, not the turkey bacon you said you didn’t like. But I don’t understand how you don’t like turkey bacon, I honestly like it more than normal bacon. Come down when you’re dressed.” She turned and walked away. Lili looked at the back of her moms legs as she walked out, and there were no signs of cuts. Not even any scars. She got up and looked in the mirror. Her eyes weren’t green anymore. Just her normal blue. Maybe it was all just a dream She thought. But it felt so real! It was like I was right there. Even now that I know it was just a dream, it still feels like i’m going to walk into the kitchen and see mom laying on the floor in peril again. Lili got dressed, and headed down stairs. Her mom greeted her in the kitchen with a hug, and handed her a glass plate to get her food. Lili looked at all the amazing food, and it smelled so good. She couldn’t wait to dig in, but she let her mom get her food first since she cooked it all.

“Hey, where is dad at? I haven’t seen him yet today.” Lili asked.

“Oh, he just went out to do some work around the pastures, fixing old broken boards and that horrible old gate. He went out to get wood and stuff last night to fix it. Said it should all be done around supper time.” Lili wondered if she should help him or not

“Do you think he would want any help? I don’t think I have anything to do today. I finished the replica you told me to build.”

“I’m sure he would love some help, honey. You can go out there after you’re done eating. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” She was reminded of the dream again. She sat down at the dining table across from her mom, and began eating. So much happened in so little time, I still can’t believe it was only a dream.

Writing Challenge Winner: Neutral Zone by Olivia Kasych

Olivia is a 15 year old writer who has participated in many of the library’s writing challenges, including last summer’s Voyager Writing Challenge and this spring’s Bad Guy Writing Challenge. Neutral Zone is a science fiction story that leads the main character through multiple universes to battle against his alternate self!

Check it out below!

Original artwork by Olivia!

Derick slouched in his chair. The seemingly endless babble of his History teacher discouraged any interest he had in the Industrial Revolution, which was none in the first place. He just wanted the class to be over and the weekend to start. He stared blankly at his History book, trying to make sense of it. His teacher was not even talking about the Industrial Revolution at this point, instead about a bet that he made with one of Derick’s classmates. It was something about a race around the school with Derick’s fastest classmate.

Derick shrugged and tried to fill out notes for the section. He hurried through them, barely reading the section, so he could finish before the bell, which was supposed to go off in five minutes.

When the clock was in the last minute, Derick could hear the sea of eager children quickly stacking all the stuff they had in messy piles on their desks. He was doing it too, so he had no room to judge.

The bell rang and Derick almost had to run out of the classroom to get to his locker before the hallway became too crowded. He shoved his stuff in his backpack, closed his locker, and was out the door before someone could count to ten.

“Hey, dude!” called someone from behind him. Derick looked over his shoulder to find his friend Chris running after him. “You’re taking me home today, remember? And what’s got you hurrying?”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Derick answered as he slowed down a bit for Chris to catch up. “And Mom’s got to go for her yearly check up today. I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

“You knew I was coming you dumb nut, and okay.” They both continued to run to Derick’s mom’s car. The red minivan was not hard to miss. Sprinting across the parking lot was not their best idea, Derick admitted, but they did get there faster than they would have any other way.

“Boys!” Derick’s mom exclaimed once they got in the car.

“Sorry for Sprinting,” Derick apologized. “But the car was over the Verizon.” He added gun fingers.

“Derick no!” Chris said, threatening to get out of his seat and leave.

“Derick yes!” Derick retorted. He loved to mess with Chris like that.

His mom sighed. “Can we not have one moment of peace?” she asked wishfully.

“Nope,” Derick and Chris said at the same time.

The drive home was a quick three minutes. Derick’s mom dropped them at the front door and drove off. Derick walked up to the door and rummaged around in his pocket to find the key to the house…

Of which he accidentally left in the long gone red minivan that belongs to his mom. He face palmed.

“You left the key in the car, didn’t you?” Chris asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yep,” Derick said.

“Dude, you have a problem. That’s the third time this week.”

“I know.”

“And your mom’s going to kill you next time you do it.”

“I know.”

“Just saying.” Chris sat down on the front step. “You know, that cloud looks like a dragon.”

Derick joined him. “No, it looks like a Star Destroyer from Star Wars.”

“You and your Star Wars.” Chris said, shaking his head.

Derick heard something that sounded like a bomb went off in his backyard. He noticed Chris was not put off by it. Derick wondered if he was hearing things, but he figured it would be safe to check anyway.

“Hey, I’m gonna go check on something,” he told Chris while trying to strain his neck around to see his backyard.

“Sure dude,” Chris shrugged and went back to stabbing the ground with sticks he found laying in the grass. Derick rolled his eyes.

Derick quickly climbed over his fence to see what was going on. He could not believe what he saw. There was a huge crater in the middle of his backyard. In the center was a short person, about a head shorter than Derick. He wore a tan short-sleeve shirt with one light green triangle in the center of the sleeve. The tan color matched the color of his skin pretty well, but his skin was a tad bit lighter. Under it was an orange shirt with sleeves that reached his elbows. It was matched with dark brown cargo shorts. He had light blue shoes on and a sash that contained little containers full of paint that was pretty much every color of the rainbow. He had dark brown hair, the color matched Derick’s, and different colored eyes which seemed to change every few seconds. Some black paint was splatted near where his nose was, but he did not seem to notice.

Derick only had about a thousand questions for him, but another person was hovering in the air. Derick looked again and realized that he was not hovering, but sitting on a swing made of blood red strings. The strings seemed to be coming from markings on his arms. He wore a black t-shirt with grey sweats. He had on black shoes. His skin was a dark brown and his hair pitch black. His crazed grin sent a shiver down Derick’s spine. He had a bad feeling about this.

“It’s all your fault, Terrace,” the person on the swing said. “If you let me do my job, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“If I let you do your ‘job,’ Vick,” Terrace said. Derick assumed that was his name because the other person said so. “There wouldn’t be anything left!”

Derick was glad both of them had not noticed him yet. They both looked piping mad at each other and he wanted no part in that. He tried sneaking back over the fence. It was going well, he almost made it over.

Almost.

Another chill went down his spine. He felt like he was being watched. He froze, not daring to move.

“Well, what do we have here?” sneered Vick. Derick could tell it was him because his voice was a lot harsher than Terrace’s.

“Gosh darn it,” Derick mumbled to himself. He turned his head back around. He saw both of them now staring at him.

Terrace had a terrified look on his face while Vick continued to smile. Vick pointed his hand at Derick and his markings started to glow.

“Don’t do it Vick!” Terrace yelled. “You can’t kill him! This is the original AW, don’t you know that?” He pronounced ‘AW’ as two individual letters.

Derick was confused. He had no idea what was going on.

Vick lowered his hand and his markings stopped glowing. “What makes you think I was gonna kill him?” he asked Terrace. “You brought us here anyway.”

“No I didn’t!” Terrace yelled back. “You did!”

Derick noticed that, at this point, their battle had been forgotten and they now resorted to bickering with each other. Derick used this time to finish making his way over the fence. He could not leave them like that in his backyard, so he used a crack in the fence to watch them.

“Hi!” someone exclaimed next to Derick. He jumped back and turned to look at the person. He was wearing a light grey t-shirt and dark blue basketball shorts. He had on light blue shoes, which matched the color of the scarf he had around his neck. His skin tone was the same as Derick’s, a tan color, light brown hair, and, to Derick’s surprise, green eyes. He had on a big smile.

“What are you doing here?” Derick asked. He had no idea who this person was. “It isn’t safe!”

“You mean them?” The person pointed at the fence, but Derick knew what he meant. “They always do that! That’ll be over soon!” He giggled. “I’m Cerulean by the way!”

Derick shook Cerulean’s outstretched hand.

“You know them?”

“Of course I do! Terrace is my friend! He helped create the multiverse and the AWs! Vick destroys the AWs.”

“Hold up, what multiverse? That’s just a dumb theory. It’s not real!”

“You better believe it! Where you live is called an Alternate World, or AW for short! Your AW is the first one and mine’s the second!”

“You’re bluffing!”

“Nope! Derick, everything I said was true!”

“How do you know my name?” Cerulean did not answer. “I don’t remember telling you.”

Cerulean took a deep breath in and out. “Derick, I-”

Something blasted the fence gate and destroyed it. Cerulean and Derick ducked for cover. When he looked up, Derick saw Terrace run over towards them. “Cerulean!?” he called frantically.

“I’m here!” Cerulean called back from behind a bush. Terrace looked relieved. “So is Derick!” Cerulean added.

“I’m over here!” Derick called. He and Cerulean got up from behind the bushes. Derick quickly looked at the damage to the fence gate. He could not even recognize that there was a fence there. He further looked around the wreckage into his backyard to check for Vick.

“What happened?” He heard Cerulean ask Terrace behind him.

“Well, Vick and I were arguing for a bit and, well, you know how unstable he is,

he…uh…” Terrace stumbled around for words to describe it. “Kinda wrapped his strings around part of the porch and threw it at me. I dodged and it hit the gate. Then I laughed at him for missing me and he tried to hit me with a fence post. He stormed off to who-knows-where.”

“Man! How am I going to explain this!” Derick exclaimed. “I’m home for ten minutes and my backyard looks like I was experimenting with nukes and accidentally exploded one!” Derick was freaking out.

“Derick!” Terrace yelled. Derick stopped. “I can fix this, just give me a sec!”

“Really?” Derick scoffed. “This is not a one man jo—” Terrace generated two paint brushes out of thin air and, with a determined look in his eyes, proceeded to draw Derick’s backyard back to its original state.

“How?” Derick gaped. He was in shock.

“Terrace is the god of Creativity,” Cerulean added.

“Oh.” Derick recalled Cerulean saying something like that earlier.

“Oh yeah! I was going to tell you how I knew your name!”

“I would still like to know.”

“Well, so, basically, I’M YOU IN MY AW!”

Derick was surprised. He did not see the connection until then. “So are Terrace and Vick?”

“Yes,” Cerulean said, with less enthusiasm.

“What’s with the nicknames then?”

“Derick, you are more important than you realize!”

Terrace started laughing, much to both of their surprise. They both looked at him weirdly. “What?” Terrace asked.

“Does he always do that?” Derick asked Cerulean quietly.

“Yes, but sometimes it’s a bit different. The other day, he got really mad at me for no reason. A second later, he apologized to me for it and claimed he didn’t know what got over him. I think he’s keeping something from me.” Cerulean whispered back.

“ ‘I got a bad feeling about this,’ ” Derick said in his best impersonation of Han Solo. Cerulean laughed.

“You want to see something cool?” Cerulean asked Derick excitedly.

“Sure,” Derick said, winking one eye and smiling.

Cerulean bounded over to Terrace. “Terrace!! Can we show him the place??” he asked.

“Which place?” Terrace asked playfully. Derick could tell Terrace knew which place Cerulean was talking about.

“You know what place, silly!” Cerulean smiled.

“Okay,” Terrace said. “I guess I can do that.”

“Yay!” Cerulean cheered. “Come on, Derick!” Terrace drew a big portal-like thing with his paint brushes, stepped in, and disappeared. Cerulean did the same.

Derick did not know if he wanted to go with some strangers to some place. Scratch that, he wanted to go, he just did not know if he should. He figured a few moments could not hurt, so he walked through the portal. ​Gotta trust myself at some point​he sighed. ~~~~~~

Derick had to take a step back. The teleportation made him a bit queasy, but Terrace reassured him that it was only because it was his first time.

“Derick, welcome to AW 10,” Terrace said. “Or, specifically, to Upmost, Earth satellite and a hospitable place for humans.”

At the moment, Derick realized…

He was in space.

Derick had to step back to take in the breathtaking view of the Earth from space. He could see the sun peaking out from just over the horizon the Earth made.

“Wait, how can we breathe up here?” Derick asked.

“This place is covered by a sort of force field,” Cerulean explained. “I’m not sure exactly how it works, but in the building over there is a generator that generates oxygen.” Cerulean gestured toward a whitish-grey covered building in the distance. The building seemed to be laid out in sections and each section was connected by some sort of above-ground tunnel.

“Here comes the head man,” Terrace announced. Derick saw someone emerge from the building. He was taller than all of them and wore a white lab coat over a dark gray shirt. “Derick, this is Astro. He’s a future you that’s a scientist. He also runs things around here.”

“Hello,” Astro said. Derick gave him a small wave. Astro turned his attention towards Terrace. “Terrace, I don’t mind that you come here, but you have to tell me beforehand, got it?”

“Sorry,” Terrace apologized. “But I had to show Derick around, Cerulean begged me.”

“This is your one pass,” Astro said.

“Hey Derick!” Cerulean pulled on Derick’s shirt. “How about I show you around?”

“Okay.” Derick followed Cerulean inside the building.

Derick barely paid attention to Cerulean giving him a tour. He really was fascinated by the structure, but he was not feeling well. Shortly after entering the building, he heard a ringing sound in his ears. After a while, he also felt incredibly hot.

“Hey, Cerulean?” Derick started to ask. “Is it hot in here or what?”

“Derick, are you okay?” Cerulean asked. “This room is practically a big freezer for all the food here.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Derick lied. His vision started to blur. His knees buckled and he fell forward.

“Derick!” Cerulean screamed, but Derick did not hear him. He had blacked out.

Derick opened his eyes. He seemed to still be in the building. The air was musty with the smell of blood. A strange fog covered the area, giving it an eerie feel. Derick started walking around. He saw a shadowy outline in the fog. After getting a bit closer, he identified the outline as Cerulean.

Cerulean was really beat up. He had generated some sort of weapon that hung loosely in his right hand. Derick made a mental note to ask about it later.

Cerulean noticed Derick. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe!” Derick heard laughter behind him. “Watch out!” Cerulean yelled. Derick turned around to try and identify what the threat was. He tried to move, but he was not fast enough.

He could feel the terrible pain of a knife piercing his side. His hands flew to the place where the knife was. He could feel his blood on it. In front of him, he saw another outline in the fog.

“Who—” Derick started to say but was interrupted by a coughing fit. He could feel blood trickling down from his mouth. “Who are you?” he rasped.

“Who am I?” The person stepped out of the fog. He was wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants. His hood was pulled over his eye line and he held another knife. “I’m you, but everyone calls me Blood.”

Blood walked closer to Derick. “It’s so nice to haunt your dreams. Too bad you’re not actually here. This would have been so much more fun if so.” Derick only stared. He knew he did not have the strength to run.

Blood stood in front of Derick. He smiled. “You must have thought Vick was the only one.” Blood pulled out the knife that was wedged in Derick. The ripping motion reopened the wound and blood flowed out of it. Derick desperately tried to stop the blood flow with his hands and, while doing so, sank to his knees. He felt a hand grip his hair, forcing his head to tilt upward. He saw Blood’s merciless eyes staring back.

“Silly,” he laughed. “There are a lot of us.” Blood stabbed Derick again. “Goodbye, for now.”

Derick jolted awake. He saw Terrace and Cerulean staring at him. He grew a little uncomfortable. He seemed to be in some sort of infirmary. “Welcome back, Derick,” he heard Astro say. Derick got up from what resembled a hospital bed. He felt a weird pain from his side.

The pain was close to nothing, but it was enough to remind Derick about his dream, if it could even be called that. He could still perfectly picture the knife in his side and Blood laughing at him. He all of a sudden wanted to get out of the building.

Derick walked out of the room before anyone could say anything. Somehow, his feet remembered which way he entered from. He could hear Cerulean following him; Derick knew it was him because he was calling Derick’s name. He continued on.

He finally found his way to the exit. He was going to open the door, but his side started hurting more. He figured it was because he had been running, so he casted it aside. He tried to open the door again, but Cerulean caught up with him.

“Derick!” Cerulean yelled. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Derick said. “I just need some fresh air.” He reached again for the handle.

“That’s not a good reason why you bolted off!” At this point, Derick’s side was throbbing

with pain. Derick opened the door.

~~~~~~

Derick was planning on going through the door, but he did not. He took a step back and stared forward. ​Speak of the devil​Derick thought.

“What’s wrong?” Cerulean asked. He also looked forward and flinched.

“Aww, this is so cute,” Blood said. “I actually get to kill someone.”

“When you said ‘for now,’ I didn’t think you meant in five minutes,” Derick said, trying to be funny for his own sake.

Blood was obviously not amused. “Your humor is stupid,” he said. He took a step forward. Out of the corner of his eye Derick saw Cerulean generate a slingshot. ​That’s what that was​Derick realized.

“Don’t come any closer!” Cerulean warned.

“Or what? You’re going to hit me with that?” Blood laughed. “You can’t aim!”

“Yes I can!” To prove his point, Cerulean flung a rock like object at Blood. It hit him in the face. It did not seem to hurt him, but it did surprise him.

Blood was furious. He generated a knife. “This has your name on it Cerulean.”

“Get behind me, Derick,” Cerulean ordered “So he can’t hit you.” Derick did what he was told.

“I already did,” Blood smiled. He snapped his fingers. Derick’s side started hurting as much as it did in his dream. Again, he imagined a knife in his side. He grabbed onto Cerulean’s shirt to try to stay standing.

“Derick!” Cerulean shrieked. He put his arms around Derick to steady him. Cerulean looked back at Blood “What did you do?!”

“No, Cerulean,” Blood shook his head “It’s ‘what did you do?’” Cerulean flinched. “You’ve kept the truth long enough. Heck, you’ve lied to keep the truth. Now what kind of friend is that?”

“Cerulean, what is he talking about?” Derick asked. He was skeptical about what Blood was saying but Cerulean’s reaction made it seem like it was true. “What truth?”

“It’s nothing,” Cerulean said. Cerulean did not make eye contact with Derick.

“‘Nothing’? I’ve been living ‘nothing’ my whole life?!” Blood spat. “I’m only here because of you! Do you know what it’s like to be made of someone’s insecurities? Huh?”

“I didn’t know it would turn out like this!” Cerulean said.

“Oh, so you ‘didn’t know’ you were lying about Terrace? Is that how this is going? And now you’re pulling not just another person, but the original into this?”

Derick was completely lost. The pain in his side subsided, finally, but Cerulean would not let go of him. Somehow, he felt like he needed to be strong for Cerulean. “I don’t get it,” Derick asked. “Who are you?” He directed the question at Blood.

Cerulean answered. “He’s me, Derick.” Derick just stared at him. “In my… our AW, people are born with the natural ability to do magic. Some are better than others. And you can be whatever you want to be!”

“But that’s true for everyone…?” Derick half asked.

“Well, I took it more literal than everyone else. I wanted to be the best me I could be by locking away almost all of my negative traits. It took almost all of my magic to do, but I was a better person. I loved it!

“Over time, all those negative feelings grew a literal mind of their own. First, it was just nightmares. Those nightmares gave me back my regret. And then, after a while, they had a body that followed me around like a ghost. He was stable at first. He gave me criticism, but I mostly ignored it.

“You actually heard me?” Blood looked surprised.

“Yes,” Cerulean answered. “Anyway, I met at Terrace one day. I showed Terrace around my home, and we became friends. When he asked if I wanted to go with him, I immediately said yes. He showed me his favorite places in the AWs, and we had fun. During this, I didn’t realize my negative ghost was gone. When I finally did, I was concerned, actually.

“Yeah right,” Blood scoffed.

”I’m not kidding. I was so used to the constant commentary that I felt weird without it. Well, the days went on and I met Blood, he was calling himself that, truly on accident. I recognized him instantly.”

“So you’ve lied about this instead of telling the truth?” Derick pieced together. “I know the truth is very important. While you were telling the story, did you realize Blood lost the insane look he had before?” Cerulean was stunned. So was Blood. “The more you lied, the more piled on Blood, the more crazy he seemed, and the more positive you were.” As a joke, he added. “Come on, you guys do magic. You’re, like, ten times more powerful than me.” Cerulean laughed. Blood chuckled a bit too.

“You are going to explain to him this one,” Cerulean said to Blood.

“Fine,” Blood took a deep breath. “Derick, you know you are the original, right?”

“Yes?” Derick said. He did not know why that mattered.

“You get certain powers because of that. The most important one is that if you die outside your AW, all other yous die and all AWs collapse and there goes the multiverse. You can traverse the multiverse without help and…um…”

“We don’t know all of those powers,” Cerulean finished.

“Wow,” Derick said. “That’s awesome! I have one question though.”

“Shoot for it,” Cerulean said.

“Are you ready to tell Terrace?”

“I don’t know. I’ll need time. I’ve known him longer and I don’t know if he’ll take it well.”

“We’ll tell him together, all three of us,” Derick assured Cerulean. “In about five seconds.”

“What?!” Cerulean and Blood said at the same time.

The door slammed open. “Oh my gosh! Did someone die?” Terrace demanded. Derick saw that he had his paintbrushes out.

“Everyone is alive!” Derick yelled back.

“Not while he’s here!” Terrace started at Blood. Cerulean stepped in between them.

“We have something to tell you,” Cerulean said.

~~~

It took a while, but the three of them told Terrace the whole story. Terrace took it surprisingly well.

“Do we have to tell Astro that Terrace broke the door?” Derick asked.

“Nah, Terrace will fix it,” Cerulean assured Derick.

“He was you the whole time?!” Terrace asked. Cerulean nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to think less of me,” Cerulean admitted. “And I was ashamed of it.” “Cerulean, you’re my friend. I would never.” Terrace gave Cerulean a reassuring smile.

Derick was happy for the two. He could not help but glance in Blood’s direction. “So,” Derick started. “What will you do now? I mean, you have things sorted out with Cerulean, and you’re done with that knife trick of yours.”

“Who said I was?” Blood smirked. Derick felt a bit of pain from his side. He elbowed Blood. “Hey, I was kidding.”

“How do you do that anyway?” Derick asked.

“Magic.” Blood grinned. Derick glared at him. “Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“This may seem stupid, but what if you helped the multiverse?”

“Me?” Blood laughed. “I’m the literal opposite of the hero type.”

“Cerulean just admitted to being ashamed. Maybe you two share some emotions instead of trade them off.”

“Derick, I’ve killed a lot of people. How am I going to come back from that?”

“One step at a time. You’ll have to give yourself some sort of chance at redemption.”

“You are very hopeful.” Blood stared up at the stars. “I’ll consider it.”

Derick smiled. He noticed that Astro was coming out of the building. “Terrace! The door!” Derick shouted.

“Shoot!” Terrace exclaimed. He quickly repainted the door. It reminded Derick about his yard. For the first time during the trip, Derick felt homesick.

He chuckled to himself. “Man, my life will never be the same after this,” he said.

“Welcome to the club,” Blood said. “If Cerulean doesn’t throw off any more negativity, I can finally act sane for once. It’ll be nice.” He smiled.

“Derick! Are you ready to go home?” Terrace called.

“Not yet!” Derick called back. He looked at Blood. “After all you put me through, I’m going to miss you.”

“Heh, me too,” Blood said. “I might just have to invade your dreams again.”

“If you do, pick somewhere less creepy, okay?” Derick and Blood both laughed. Derick had a feeling that, deep down, something sparked in Blood.

“In that case, see you on the flip side,” Blood said. “Make sure you talk to Cerulean, it looks like he has something for you.”

“Okay,” Derick waved back at Blood before walking over to Cerulean.

“Oh, Derick!” Cerulean said. “Thank you for giving me another chance! I did a terrible thing and I told big lies to cover it up and I just went about it the wrong way and I really should have known better and—” Cerulean was almost in tears.

“Cerulean,” Derick said, cutting Cerulean off. He looked Cerulean in the eyes. “It’s okay. Making mistakes is what makes us human. It’s not healthy to beat yourself up about it. You have to accept that you did something wrong so you can move on.”

“I don’t think Blood will let me.”

“Yes he will. He’s as done with the lies as you are.”

Cerulean grinned. “Thank you, again, Derick.”

“Anytime.”

“That reminds me!” Cerulean held out a piece of paper. “It’s my number. If you need anything, just ask!”

Derick pocketed the paper. “Thanks Cerulean.” Derick turned toward Terrace. “I’m ready now.”

“Okay, give me a quick second,” Terrace created a portal. “See you, Derick.”

“Come by anytime, Terrace!” Derick smiled. He went through the portal and ended up back in his backyard. He waved at his new friends through the portal before it closed. He climbed back over his fence.

“Hey dude,” Chris said. “Did you see something?”

“Well,” Derick looked back at his backyard. “I guess you could say that.”

“Cool.”

~~~

Derick’s mom was disappointed with Derick. After she dropped Chris back at his house, she talked to Derick about being responsible with things that were not his. Derick promised to do better.

After dinner, when Derick had enough time to himself, he whipped out his phone. He took out the slip of paper in his pocket. He entered in Cerulean’s phone number. He was about to close the contact when he saw the words “dial (-) first” scribbled on the back of the slip. He completed the contact. He took a deep breath. He hoped it worked and he would not accidentally text some random person instead. He texted “Heya, it’s Derick.”

The response was almost instant. “Hi Derick! It’s Cerulean!” Derick smiled. He had a feeling he would see him again soon. Above everything, he was really tired. He had had too much excitement for one day. He said good night to his parents and went to bed.

It did not last long. Derick woke up to a crashing sound. He reached over to his light switch and flicked it on. He saw Cerulean tangled up in a cord. Derick was not sure what it was to. “Why are you here, Cerulean?” he said groggily. “It’s probably midnight.”

“It’s eleven,” Cerulean said. “And we need your help!”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Derick was not fully awake. He was not thinking straight.

“This calls for drastic measures!” Cerulean gave someone behind Derick a thumbs up.

In an instant, Derick felt a cold liquid poor down his shirt. That woke him up.

“What the—” Derick started to say. He looked behind him. He saw Blood laughing his head off. “Guys, my parents!”

“They’re fine,” Blood said. “Extra sleep won’t hurt.” Derick got the idea.

“So what is it?” Derick asked.

“It’s Vick,” Cerulean said. “He’s at it again.”

“Where are we meeting?”

“Upmost.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” Derick took a deep breath. “I’m going to try it.”

“Be careful,” Blood said. He and Cerulean disappeared.

Derick had no idea how to teleport. Well, he had one. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes. He thought about the spectacular view of Earth from Upmost.

A second later, he opened his eyes. He found himself in the same spot he thought about. He pumped his fist in the air.

“Oh good! You made it!” Cerulean said.

“Cerulean was worried sick,” Blood said. “He wanted to go back to help you, but I told him you’d be fine.”

“How were you so sure?” Derick asked. Blood pointed to Derick’s side.

“We have a small link now,” he said. “Don’t worry, it can only do dreams and really good hunches.”

“How long will it be there?” Blood shrugged. All three of them laughed.

“We should probably get going,” Cerulean said. “Terrace is waiting inside the building.”

They walked towards the door. Derick felt ready. He knew that whatever Vick was doing would be stopped by the four of them.

He felt truly invincible.

Look out for Olivia’s sequel called Red Strings coming soon to the blog!