He's a what now?! / The secret ancient artifact

"Phew, dodged a bullet there," I muttered to myself, Thankfully, my jacket weren't torn off so I wasn't completely helpless. And thank goodness I'd remembered to remove my skirt before transforming! 

I glanced down at my right leg, where I'd been sure I'd been injured. But... nothing. No pain, no swelling, not even a scratch. I blinked, completely baffled. Had my body somehow... changed? Was that even possible?

Once the immediate danger had passed, I headed downstairs. The hallway was back to normal, a cacophony of student chatter replacing the eerie silence. That encounter… it had been intense. I could already sense that this was just the beginning. But for now, I needed to rest.

 Dwelling on the unknown wouldn't help.

I searched for Ella everywhere – the hallways, the cafeteria, even the floor where the incident had occurred. But she was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, the students seemed oblivious to what had just transpired, blissfully unaware of the supernatural battle that had unfolded before their very eyes.

I pulled out my phone and checked for messages. A notification from Ella popped up.

"Hey gorl, I've been waiting for you for ages?! Where the heck are you? I went to the cafe first, like you asked."

Huh?

What?

I never told her that..Wait, wasn't she just next to me earlier..She's also the one...

I need to talk to my sister and Aunt Cassie about this.

 I thought to myself, needing to process what had just happened. They might have some insights into this bizarre phenomenon.

"Hey, you should go home," I texted Ella, "I don't feel well. I need to head home."

I slipped my phone back into my bag and headed towards the exit.

"You jumped timelines..." Catherine said, settling deeper into the armchair opposite Amy in the family lounge.

"Jumped timelines? I thought that ghost woman was behind it all..." Amy mused, frowning.

"You're telling me you fought a ghost woman who was the lover of your friend, who then, by the way, revealed he liked you romantically?" Catherine asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah, believe me, I'd rather not have had to transform for that," Amy muttered, annoyance creeping into her tone.

 "I mean, wouldn't it be great to actually have some of those 'extra powers' I keep reading about?" she added.

"Did you get hurt?" Catherine asked, her eyes scanning Amy for any sign of injury.

Amy thought back to the pain she'd felt, the searing agony in her leg. But now... not even a scar is visible. She looked down at her leg in disbelief. It was completely healed.

"Nah, I'm good," she said, trying to brush it off.

Catherine, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on Amy, as if trying to read her mind. Then, with a thoughtful frown, she seemed to lose interest, her mind drifting off to something else.

"Did your friends know that your 'lover boy' friend had passed away?" Catherine inquired.

"No, not yet," Amy shook her head, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

The events of the day still swirled in Amy's mind, vivid and unsettling. She knew sleep might be elusive tonight, and the thought of facing her friends' grief over their lost friend was already weighing on her. Of course, she understood that death was a natural part of life, but that didn't make the prospect of accepting this change any easier.

"Let's go now," Catherine said, rising from her chair and heading towards the bathroom. "Ask your friends or old classmates if they know his address."

"What? Wait-."

Amy groaned, rummaging through her bag for her phone. She pulled it out, opened her messaging app, and quickly texted her friends.

Catherine, Amy, Ella, and a few other classmates who were close to Adrian gathered at the funeral home. They all wore black, a stark contrast to Catherine who was inexplicably dressed in white.

 They stood awkwardly in front of the room where the service was being held, facing the distant plot of land where Adrian was laid to rest.

An elderly woman in a mourning dress approached them. "How do you know Adrian?" she asked politely.

"We were, uh, his classmates," Ella stammered, the others nodding in agreement, including Catherine.

But Amy couldn't stay with them. She felt compelled to go to him, to the place where he now rested. She tried to compose herself, to appear strong, but the effort was futile.

As she drew closer to the burial site, Amy closed her eyes, lowering her head. Her hands clenched tightly against her chest, her body trembling slightly. She took a deep breath, then slowly peeked through the branches of the nearby trees, finally looking at the grave.

A soft smile touched her lips, a mixture of sadness and a strange sense of peace washing over her.

"Adrian," she whispered, "I know you can hear me. I just wanted to say... I'll always cherish the memories we made. You were a good friend."

Amy had deliberately forgotten about Adrian after he left for university,

 convincing herself that it was best to move on. She hadn't planned on speaking to him again, hadn't wanted to. But now, faced with the reality of his death, all those forgotten memories were flooding back, vivid and poignant.

"Hey, you alright?" Ella asked gently, her hand resting comfortingly on Amy's shoulder.

Amy nodded but remained silent, her gaze fixed on Adrian's peaceful, lifeless form.

"I didn't know you were that close to him," Ella whispered, her voice hushed as she looked at Adrian. "You mentioned him, of course, but I didn't realize... this."

"I can't believe it," Amy murmured, her voice barely audible. "He's been gone for three years." She lowered her head, a mixture of disbelief and quiet grief etched on her face.

"It's alright," Ella soothed, her hand gently squeezing Amy's shoulder. "No one really knows what happened to him."

"I had so many things to ask him," Amy whispered, her voice devoid of emotion.

 "But I suppose it doesn't matter now."

Ella observed her friend, offering a silent presence, allowing Amy the space she needed to process her emotions. Ella didn't know the full extent of their friendship, but she chose to respect Amy's grief and focus on being there for her in the present moment.

Catherine and Amy hopped off the tricycle, Amy first, followed by Catherine who fumbled in her pocket for her wallet.

 She extracted some bills and paid the driver, who thanked her in return before revving the engine and pulling away.

Amy stood waiting, lost in thought, replaying the events of the day in her mind.

"Thank you," Catherine said to the driver, tucking her wallet back into her bag. She then turned to Amy, who was still deep in thought, a frown creasing her brow. "Hey," Catherine nudged her gently, breaking her sister's reverie.

Amy startled, blinking rapidly before turning to look at Catherine with an unreadable expression.

"What?" she asked, her voice flat.

Catherine hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Your friend, Adrian... well, I've been doing some digging," she said slowly.

Amy's expression shifted, her curiosity piqued. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.

Catherine hesitated again, avoiding Amy's gaze. "He's... uh... he was half-human, half-bird," she mumbled.

Amy scoffed, a dismissive chuckle escaping her lips. "No," she said firmly, brushing it off. "No way."

Catherine remained silent, her gaze steady, her expression serious. She wasn't joking.

"No! That's ridiculous!" Amy exclaimed, her annoyance growing. 

"If he was some kind of hybrid, I would have known, wouldn't I?" she trailed off, her confidence wavering slightly.

Amy had always trusted her sister's judgment, had relied on her for guidance ever since their parents had passed away from pneumonia. Catherine was her rock, her confidante, and their bond was unbreakable.

"Stop saying nonsense," Amy declared, her annoyance flaring again. "Show some respect for the dead." 

With that, she turned and walked towards the house, leaving Catherine standing alone on the sidewalk.

Amy opened the door, her mood a stormy grey. Inside, she found her grandparents from her father's side and Aunt Cassie seated comfortably on the sofa in the family lounge. The entrance was directly adjacent to the lounge, offering a clear view of the room.

Amy quickly masked her unease with a polite smile. "Oh, hello," she greeted, her voice a touch too bright. 

"Where have you been? And where's Catherine?" Aunt Cassie asked, her tone a mix of curiosity.

"Amy, listen to me!" Catherine exclaimed, following close behind. She stopped abruptly, her expression hardening as she noticed their grandparents. A thin smile played on her lips, a forced, almost mechanical gesture.

"It's good to see you both," Grandfather Peter Wong said, his voice warm and amused. He rose from the sofa and walked towards Amy, followed by Grandmother Melissa.

Grandpa Peter embraced Amy with a gentle hug, while Grandma Melissa bestowed a kiss on her cheek. They repeated the same warm greetings with Catherine.

"You've grown into such beautiful young women," Grandma Melissa remarked, a fond smile gracing her lips.

"Indeed they have, Grandmother," Aunt Cassie agreed, her smile a touch too perfect.

Catherine and Amy joined their grandparents on the sofa, settling into the plush cushions.

"So, how are the two of you doing?" Grandpa Peter inquired, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"We're... fine," Catherine replied, her tone a bit too passive. Amy simply nodded in agreement, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Tell us everything," Grandma Melissa urged, her voice warm and encouraging.

 "Don't be shy. After all, your grandpa and I are always here for you."

Amy remained silent, her appetite for conversation completely gone. She refused to meet Catherine's eyes or those of her grandparents. Catherine, noticing Amy's withdrawal, glanced at Aunt Cassie, who simply returned a sympathetic smile without offering any words of encouragement.

 Catherine turned back to her grandparents, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Well, I recently landed a job with a friend," she began, her voice brightening. "I'll be painting portraits for movies. The pay is quite decent, considering they seem to really admire my work."

"That's wonderful, dear," Grandpa Peter said, his voice a gentle rumble. "I'm sure you'll find great inspiration in your work."

"And you, my dear?" Grandpa Peter turned his attention to Amy, who was still staring intently at the floor.

Amy finally looked up, but the effort seemed to drain her. She simply shook her head, unable to muster the energy for conversation.

"I'm... I'm a bit tired," she mumbled, her voice devoid of enthusiasm. "I think I'll head upstairs."

Amy bowed her head slightly in apology and then excused herself, leaving the room with a quiet sigh.

"Oh, I apologize for Amy. She's been having a rough time at university lately," Aunt Cassie quickly interjected, attempting to lighten the mood.

Grandpa Peter shrugged dismissively, choosing to ignore Amy's behavior. "No worries," he said, composing himself.

"We're here because we've decided it's time for you to have this," Grandma Melissa announced, her voice firm. She switched her gaze to Catherine.

Catherine stared back intently, waiting for her grandparents to reveal what they had brought.

"Since your father, Michael, left this earthly realm – may God rest his soul – and your mother... it's been part of the prophecy, you see," Grandpa Peter began, reaching behind him. 

"To pass this on to the both of you."

Catherine watched intently as Grandpa Peter carefully extracted an object from a bag. It was an ancient-looking necklace, the gold chain tarnished with age, and the pendant adorned with intricate geometric designs in shades of blue and red.

"What is it?" Catherine asked, her curiosity piqued.

"It's an artifact," Grandma Melissa explained, "passed down through our family for generations. It's said that when the time is right, it will be passed on to the next successor."

"Can I sell it?" Aunt Cassie joked, then quickly retracted her words, her eyes widening.

"Catherine, my dear," Grandpa Peter continued, his voice serious, "you are the next successor. Take good care of it. Times are changing, and evil forces are growing bolder. This artifact will be of great use to you, but use it wisely. It will only manifest its power when you truly believe in it."

Grandpa Peter gently placed the necklace in Catherine's outstretched hand.

Catherine carefully examined the artifact, turning it over and over in her fingers.

"Remember," Grandma Melissa emphasized, her voice stern, "the artifact will only work if you allow it to. You must consciously allow its power to manifest."

"According to my mother," Grandma Melissa began, "that artifact once belonged to Daji, the nine-tailed fox. But the artifact rejected her because of the wrongdoings she committed centuries ago."

Grandpa Peter's voice rumbled, "That's why it's crucial for us foxes to avoid impulsive actions. We operate best in the shadows. We don't need to crave the spotlight."

Aunt Cassie and Grandma Melissa nodded in agreement, remaining silent. Catherine, however, remained fixated on the necklace, lost in thought.

Sleep eluded me. The events of the day replayed like a broken record, the ghost woman's ugly visage a recurring nightmare. I tossed and turned, searching for a comfortable position, any position that might lull me to sleep.

Catherine's words from earlier still lingered, a nagging doubt. Was she serious about Adrian being half-bird? Or had she mistaken him for something else? Maybe she was on drugs, that would explain it. But no, if Adrian was truly a hybrid, I should have sensed it. I am one myself, after all.

Why was I even considering her words? I should just relax and try to sleep. It was pointless to dwell on someone else's ramblings.

Then, I heard – the slow creak of my bedroom door. I turned my head, frowning, and saw Catherine standing in the doorway, a small smile playing on her lips. I ignored her, turning away and closing my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep.

'I know my earlier approach was… unconventional,' she said, her voice surprisingly mature, attempting to break the tension. 'But I assure you, I will only ell you everything I know, everything I've seen with my own two eyes.'

'Adrian may be a birdman,' she continued, 'but he is undeniably human. Don't let that surprise you. After all, we're not exactly human either, are we?'

A moment of silence followed. I considered her words. It was only fair to hear her out. After all, I've always relied on her for answers when I couldn't understand something myself.

I sat up, facing her, my eyes scanning her face.

 'What do you mean, "he's a bird"?' I asked, curiosity piqued.

'He's a bird,' she repeated simply, 'just like I said.'

"Then, how come I didn't see it on him?" I asked, still unsure how to process Catherine's observation.

Catherine remained silent, then let out a long sigh, looking at me again. "Because he purposely didn't want you to see it," she explained bluntly.

Confusion washed over me. So, he was aware of his nature all along? Did he know I was the fox the whole time he was alive? Was befriending me part of some plan? And did his longing to be "normal" stem from his hybrid nature? I needed to speak to him, I realized. I needed to know. But I wouldn't resort to any spirit techniques or Ouija boards. I wasn't risking my own safety.

"I need to speak to him," I declared, my voice firm.

Catherine raised an eyebrow, impressed by my sudden change of mood. "Don't do anything rash," she warned. "The dead have no business interfering with the living."

"I watched a video online," I mumbled, remembering the bizarre instructions, "that said the best time to speak to the deceased is at exactly 3:00 AM. The requirement is water – river or ocean water is best – and you face the water and speak your wish." I was surprisingly engaged by the idea, despite its absurdity.

Catherine shook her head, dismissing my words. She turned to leave.

"Hey, will you help me?" I called out, determined to convince her.

Catherine paused, waiting for her response.

"Please?" I pleaded, hoping for her support.

"Isn't it a great thing to do?" I babbled, suddenly excited.

 "Aunt Cassie told me we're going on vacation to Siargao. It's the perfect time. You can even communicate with your dead ex-lover, George!"

The words hung in the air, heavy with unintended implications. I fell silent, my gaze dropping to the floor.

Catherine remained motionless, not turning around. "Fine," she conceded, her voice stern. "I'll help you. But don't be disappointed if it doesn't go as planned."

 With that, she turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Did i hit a nerve?

Catherine slipped into her room, moving quietly. She sank onto her bed, relaxing against the pillows. Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she checked for notifications, a familiar ritual. It had been three years since she dropped out of college – a short time in the grand scheme of things, perhaps, but her memories, both good and bad, still felt raw.

No matter how hard she tried to push them aside, the memories always seemed to find a way back. She shifted, lying back against the pillows, too lazy to change out of her clothes. Staring blankly at the ceiling, she let her mind wander. Then, Amy's idea, and the mention of George, began to gnaw at her.

Three years. No matter what she did, the ghost of George still lingered. Was it a necessary part of her healing journey? A test from the universe? She didn't know. All she knew was that dwelling on the past, whether good or bad, was pointless. We had to move forward, she believed, not hold ourselves back or cling to anyone.

"Cat, did you like it?" A voice, slightly too loud, startled her from behind.

Catherine turned, her eyes wide with awe, to the painting. It was a stunning portrait, a Victorian Renaissance masterpiece, hanging on the wall of the student art exhibit in Salcedo.

"Yes," she breathed, mesmerized.

The painting depicted her, transformed into a Victorian lady, adorned with jewels and an air of regal seriousness. Her gaze was direct, challenging the viewer. It was breathtaking.

"Georgie, it's so beautiful," she murmured, her voice filled with admiration.

George slipped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He gazed at her, captivated by her beauty, the way the light caught in her eyes, the delicate curve of her lips.

"So, this is the surprise, huh?" Catherine asked, a playful smile gracing her lips as she placed her hands on his arms.

"Did I make you happy?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "What was your inspiration for the outfit?"

"Well, I was watching 'Far from the Madding Crowd,'" he explained, "and the protagonist reminded me of you. Of course, you're different, but you have that same… vibe."

"I haven't seen that movie," she mused. "I should check it out."

"Oh, right! Take a picture of me with the painting," she said excitedly.

George stepped back, pulling out his phone. He smiled at her, positioning himself for the perfect shot. "Ready?" he asked, adjusting his phone.

"One, two, three… Smile!" he said, capturing the moment in a photograph.

Catherine heard a knock on her door. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, a wave of lethargy washing over her. As she reached for the doorknob, a shiver, cold and sudden, snaked down her spine. It was more than just a chill; it was a heavy weight, an oppressive energy settling on her shoulders, leaving her breathless. Her eyes widened in alarm, her body instinctively tensing. She stared at the doorknob, unsure of what to expect, a sense of unease prickling her skin.

"What's going on..."

"What's this heavy feeling..."

"It's truly a good evening today..." A chilling voice, laced with seductive undertones, echoed through the room.

Catherine jumped, startled by the sudden interruption. She whirled around, her gaze darting across the room.

Standing there, lounging on her bed, was a sight that sent shivers down Catherine's spine. A young woman, her face concealed by a delicate white fox mask adorned with intricate huadian ornaments, stood before her. The mask was further accentuated by a striking black marking on the forehead.

 The woman was slender, draped in a flowing red and gold Tang dynasty gown, her long, jet-black hair cascading down her back, the top adorned with an elegant Tang dynasty headdress. The hair seemed to float in the air, defying gravity. Her posture was languid, one hand resting gracefully on her cheek.

Her expression was an enigma, a mask within a mask. But there was an undeniable power emanating from her, a thick, yellow-gold aura swirling around her, filling the room with its commanding presence.

"It's a wonderful feeling," the fox-woman purred, her voice hypnotic, "to meet with my own kind..."

Catherine continued to stare, mesmerized. She noticed something extraordinary – the woman had eleven tails, each one shimmering with an eerie light. 

No matter how hard she tried to deny it, the woman's presence was undeniably magnetic, an almost tangible force that pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe. Most would be overwhelmed, their wills broken by the sheer force of her aura. But Catherine, a hybrid herself, felt a strange resonance, a push and pull between their energies.

"Daji..." Catherine whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Recognition flickered in her eyes. Could it be? The appearance… it was uncanny.

"Hmm?" the fox-woman murmured, her voice echoing through the room, a low, seductive growl. "I guess I was called that once."

"What are you doing here?" Catherine demanded, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands.

The fox-woman let out a low chuckle, a sound that sent shivers down Catherine's spine. "Can't you recognize yourself?"

"What?" Catherine exclaimed, bewildered.

"Catherine," the fox-woman said, her voice hypnotic, "the Japanese thought they had banished me, sealed my essence within that rock. But they were wrong." A chilling pause.

 "I am you, Catherine. My powers, my essence… they are intertwined with yours. I have suffered, I have rejoiced, I have lived through you."

A chilling warning followed. "Catherine, they are coming for you. Be ready."

"I'm not a man-eating monster like yourself," Catherine retorted, her voice laced with disdain.

 "Not to mention, a greedy woman who destroyed lives." She crossed her arms, a defiant posture settling over her.

The fox-woman let out a raucous laugh, the sound echoing through the room, reverberating long after it had subsided. Catherine remained unfazed, her arms still crossed, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"If you enjoy making a mockery of yourself, then by all means, continue," the fox-woman sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I must admit, I've missed this aspect of life."

Catherine stared at her, frowning. She wasn't enjoying this conversation in the slightest

"I guess living again is a form of sweet punishment for you, isn't it?" the fox-woman chuckled, a chilling amusement in her voice. "Living to suffer, to feel pain again..."

Catherine remained silent, lost in thought.

"Ignoring me with silence, are we?" the fox-woman observed, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Catherine finally spoke, her voice low and hesitant. "I may have done things I'm not proud of in the past, things that were morally wrong. I acknowledge my mistakes. But I believe I have a purpose."

"If you are truly me," Catherine said, her voice vulnerable, her body language mirroring the fragility of her words, 

"then tell me... are humans created to suffer? Are we born into a world of putting us into too much pain?"

"Is it too much to ask for a moment of happiness?" she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Must we endure endless suffering for something as simple as joy?"

"Does life even have meaning?" she whispered, her voice filled with a deep-seated disappointment, years of unpleasant experiences weighing heavily on her.

The fox-woman remained silent, the oppressive energy that had filled the room slowly dissipating. 

Catherine waited, anticipation building. But the fox-woman remained silent. Finally, Catherine looked up, her gaze sweeping across the room. To her astonishment, the woman was gone. Vanished.

Catherine's brows furrowed in confusion. She scanned the room, searching for any sign of the enigmatic visitor, but found nothing. The air, moments ago thick with the woman's presence, now felt strangely empty.

Catherine jumped at the sudden knock, her heart pounding. She cautiously opened the door, finding her sister, Amy, standing on the other side, a look of confusion etched on her face.

"Who were you talking to?" Amy asked, her arms crossed, her brow furrowed.

Amy's gaze swept across the room, searching for any sign of another person.

Catherine hesitated, scrambling for an explanation. "No one," she stammered, trying to sound casual.

Amy squinted at her, unconvinced. "Do you really think I'd believe that?" she scoffed.

 "You were talking so loudly, I could hear you from down the hall!"

"Sorry," Catherine sighed, defeated. She couldn't think of a believable excuse.

"If you're talking to yourself, or whatever weird ritual you were performing, please be considerate of the other people living here," Amy hissed, annoyance evident in her voice. 

She turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway.

Catherine watched her go, speechless. She closed the door slowly, her mind still reeling from the encounter with the fox-woman.