"When do we leave?" I asked, my heart filled with resolve and my eyes set on Sam's.
Sam sighed, pursing his lips (you know what? I'm not gonna write this anymore. From now on, I'm calling it "PHL".)
Let's rewrite that:
Sam sighed, PHL'd and picked out what looked like a weird golden crystal. Circe rolled her eyes (RHE). Something told me she'd seen one of these before. They stared as if having a silent conversation with each other.
"I'm right here, you know." I grumbled, glaring daggers at Sam's back. Circe, surprisingly, did not RHE and instead turned back to me, her face set as stone.
"Well, that good news is that they left us a tracking device that shows us their exact position."
"The bad news?" I asked.
"They also left us an invitation telling us to go there."
"Of course they did. I'm guessing it's a trap?"
"It's definitely a trap," Circe replied. "There are portals in this world through which deities like Abaddon spread their power. The closer his followers are to these portals, the more energy they can channel from him."
"We'd be fighting on their turf," Sam explained. "They'd have a homecourt advantage."
"Wait, what's the point of that?" I asked. "Why do they need us to go there?"
Circe pinched her forehead.
"That's the other bad news," she said. "They left us a message too."
I felt hesitant to ask.
"About?"
"They want you, Wanda."
I didn't trust myself to speak.
"They-the hyssop-" Sam tried to explain, but Circe cut him to the chase.
"We know your mom died," she said, biting her lip as if trying to stop herself from saying more. Her eyes gazed through my soul with undisguisable sympathy. It would've felt better if she'd laughed. "They said something about it in the message."
I felt the earth beginning to shiver beneath my feet. Black ice formed around my feet, turning the earth dry and cold. The nausea refused to leave me alone. The Zealots...they'd read the article, no doubt. They knew all about the girl in the apartment, weeping over her mother's corpse as strange crystals formed around her.
A thousand memories began to form in my mind. Memories I barely remembered. I was ten. I laughed and giggled on the little swing in our backyard, and I saw my father smiling at me as he pitched our tent. He'd planned this. A rare family vacation, right in our own backyard.
"Papa, look!" I shouted, still grinning ear-to-ear. And that's when I saw it.
I wanted to look away. I didn't want to remember this. Everything in my head told me to run. Run, and never come back. I didn't. Instead, I watched, sullying one of the last good memories I had after my mother had died.
There, in the corner, a grotesque mix of spider and man watched from the shadows.
All my life, I'd been watched. Spied on by the servants of a god who wanted nothing more than to destroy the remnants of my life.
"They've been watching me." I muttered, steadying myself against a tree. Circe bit her lip again.
"That's not all," Sam said, his eyes glued to the ground.
"What else is there?"
I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
"The hyssop's blocked your power. So young, and such prolonged exposure...But it's still there. Still ready to be harvested for the Great Gods. Still ready for Abaddon to consume and release himself onto the world. When you go there, they'll sacrifice you to the Wild One."
My blood pounded. The world felt dizzy, unorganized. With great difficulty, I forced out the next words.
"If I go..."
"You go to die."
Too much had happened. I felt the world give out from underneath my feet as I fell to the ground.
***
Normally when I dream, I see things that don't really make sense. I guess that in of itself makes sense, 'cause you know, Chaos itself doesn't make sense and all that. Okay, I'm tripping over my own words here.
Point is: my dreams don't have any rhythm or structure to them. They just happen. I remember this one time, where I saw a maze made entirely of human flesh and bone, or this other time with this frog that had a human face. This time though, I understood what happened as soon as I saw her.
Those eyes. That smile. Her laughter echoed through the room like one of her illusions. Powerful, and yet, beautiful in their own way. Her brown, curly hair fell upon her shoulders as she squealed.
"Daddy! Daddy! Look what I can do!"
A beautiful pink unicorn erupted out of nowhere. It neighed and flipped its mane as if to proclaim: I am better and prettier than all of you.
It might as well have been true.
Sitting on a blue sofa, a man with even more unkempt hair laughed with delight. He gingerly pat the creature as if perfectly accustomed to touching animals existing only in dreams. I noticed how careful he was so as to not allow his hand to pass through it. I noticed the care he took in making his smile wider, his expression more relaxed.
My eyes changed focus, moving onto the bundle of papers he'd been working on.
How was I seeing this?
Circe laughed, clapping her hands in delight as the horse bounded around with unguarded enthusiasm, moving through tables and jumping onto shelves without leaving a single gift shattered on the ground.
That is, until all of them shattered at once.
A knock came on the door. The unicorn vanished, along with the comfortable sights of the cozy house. In place of the blue sofa was an ugly, grey mattress. The golden lights had vanished, replaced by shadows from clouds outside. The window had bars now.
"Daddy?" Circe asked, staring at Daddy's face. It was as white as the moon, but with none of its peace.
"I'll-I'll be right back darling." Daddy said, walking towards the door with unsteady feet.
What happened next was too fast to process.
Daddy fell to the floor. Blood splattered all over the walls. Circe screamed as another bullet ran towards her, only missing her cheek by a margin. Heavy footsteps thumped into the hall. They took aim.
"NO!" Circe shouted, and the scene changed again.
A mist of desolation and anger swept over us all. The room seemed to be closing in on us. Darkness and death moved through the men in an even stride as they clutched at their hearts, screeching in agony for all of their companions to hear.
Each died, and each attempted to run. Under the weight of her grief, they fled, leaving broken bones and hearts in their wake.
***
When I woke up, Circe was crying. We were alone. I spotted an arrow in the floorboards and realized we were in one of the cabins. Then I noticed the medical equipment in the cupboards and changed my analysis to "Infirmary".
"How-how did I-Circe?"
Her rainbow eyes had become dull and gray. Cold, saline tears trickled down her face. I understood what'd happened. She'd tried to help me using her powers, and I'd reacted instinctively, calling forth the darkest memories inside her.
"Circe, I am so sorry-"
She backed away like I was a plague.
"No. No. I-I can't go back there!"
"Circe, wait." I grabbed her hand before she could run. I regretted it instantly. Thousands of images ran through my mind, each more depraved than the last. I felt her sorrow, I felt her anger and fear.
I saw the blood as it landed on her face.
I felt the bullet whizz past my cheek, burying itself in the wall behind me.
I felt the buildup of chaos in my muscles as I let it free, releasing my despair onto my enemies as I cradled the lifeless body of the only one I ever loved.
I felt her pain as if it were my own. Because I'd gone through the same. It occurred to me the reason she seemed to be so comfortable here at camp; magic had saved her life. But that didn't mean she wasn't in pain, no matter how much she tried to hide it.
The only difference was that somehow, she'd reached camp. She'd found a home.
She recoiled like I was made of poison.
"G-get dressed," she whispered. "We leave at dawn."
I tried to get up, but she ran before I could do it. And then I collapsed once more.
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