Episode 14 — Sending My Love on the Other Side of The Apocalypse

Outside, the wind had teeth.

Biting down on the air. The sky was darkening faster than it should have, streets stretching into shadows. The ground and houses shook wildly as if something unseen had passed by.

Sasha burst out of the church, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. Michael hurried after her, uncertain whether to speak.

“Sasha…wait…”

“Don’t,” she snapped, spinning on him. “Just… don’t.”

She brushed past Clark, who opened his mouth to ask a question, but she ignored him completely.

“Sorry, man, she’s not feeling well,” Michael muttered to Clark, jogging to catch up.

He finally reached her near the school. She stopped only because she was out of breath.

“Time out,” he gasped, hands on his knees. “I’m dying here…”

He straightened, hesitated, and reached out, brushing her shoulder lightly. “What happened back there?”

She flinched but didn’t pull away. Tears streaked down her face again. “Did you know?” she asked. Her voice cracked. “Did you know what I was?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m the Witch’s daughter,” Sasha whispered, almost daring him to deny it.

Michael blinked. “What?”

“From the book! The girl who cursed this town—the reason for the Doll, the Suits, all this chaos every five years!”

“Sasha, no…what are you saying? That’s….”

“All those years,” she cut him off, voice sharp as glass. “Every smile, every birthday, every prayer…just a setup for the day I’d disappear. And not one of you…”

Michael stepped in front of her, his hands firm on her shoulders. “You think I knew? I didn’t know any of this. I swear.”

Sasha glared at him through tears. “How do I know you’re not lying like everyone else?”

The wind howled around them, tossing her hair across her tear-stained face.

“Because I didn’t know,” Michael said, his voice low but steady. “My mom never told me. No one did.”

“Does it matter?” Sasha whispered. “You grew up knowing you belonged. I was just…a project. A clock ticking toward some blood-soaked destiny?”

Michael shook his head, helpless. “You’re you. That’s all I care about.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“I thought I mattered,” she said bitterly. “That I was a part of something. But I don’t.”

“Stop,” Michael said, his voice breaking now. He grabbed her face gently but firmly. “Look at me. Really look. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You matter to me Sasha, because…I love you. I know the timing is awful, but I do…so much.”

She pulled back, shaking her head. “You’re just saying that. Please… just leave me alone. I’ll go away like everyone wants.”

“Why are you listening to them?” Michael snapped. “Whatever our parents did, it doesn’t have to define us! We are our own people. I’m telling you that I love you. Me. Personally. Ever since the first day I saw you.”

He gave a short, nervous laugh. “Remember when Yuri Kawasaki threw your book in the toilet and you beat him senseless?”

Sasha sniffled, a weak smirk tugging at her lips. “I’d forgotten about that. I did apologize to him later.”

“Yeah, but you dragged him across the floor first. You were like this warrior goddess. And from that day, I knew… I wanted to marry you someday. I even told everyone to stay away from you, because I wanted you all to myself.”

She blinked at him, stunned. “Is that why Yuri ran away when I asked him out? I thought it was because I’d beaten him up.”

Michael smiled, and for a second, the world stilled around them.

“Whatever my mom and your dad have done…”

“He’s not my father,” Sasha cut in, the warmth fading from her face. “And don’t pretend they didn’t send you to talk me down.”

“No! That’s not….God, you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

She turned to run, but Michael grabbed her arm, gentle but firm.

“Stop. Just for a minute,” he said. His voice softened. “There’s one way I can prove I’m telling the truth.”

She glared at him. “And what’s that?”

Michael didn’t answer. He simply leaned in and kissed her.

At first it was tentative, gentle. Then Sasha kissed him back, and the world seemed to blur and narrow to just that moment.

After what felt like an eternity to them, they stopped and looked at each other. Both flustered and breathless.

The Sasha stopped looking at the distance, frowning. Michael stepped back.

“That bad?” Michael asked with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, first time…”

“Michael,” she whispered.

“What?”

She turned his face toward the church.

Flames licked up the roof, curling black smoke into the night.

“The church…” Michael’s voice cracked. “It’s on fire!”

Meanwhile, back in the church basement…

The cellar air had turned to ice. Clara stood motionless in the candlelight, her eyes focused on nothing, mouth slightly open as if mid-prayer—or mid-revelation.

“Should we go after her?” she asked.

“No,” Pastor Mathers said, defeated. “She’ll be back after processing everything. Besides, Michael went after her…he’s probably the only person she won’t want to punch.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said. “I sent her friends back home to call their parents. I think we should have another meeting, let them know what happened.”

Mathers reached for the wooden box on the table to check the porcelain finger inside.

It was cracked.

A spiderweb fracture split the fingertip, like something had tried to clench and shattered it instead. For just an instant, Mathers saw it twitch

A deep sound rumbled beneath the floorboards—a low groan, like the bowels of the earth shifting.

Upstairs, muffled screams.

“Something’s wrong,” Mathers whispered.

The air turned colder, sharp enough to sting the lungs.

Clara stood stiff as stone, eyes wide. “It’s happening again.”

The lanterns flickered once…then twice…then guttered low, barely holding their light.

Then a sound they knew all too well.

The bells.

DONG!

DONG!

A slow creak came from above. Something heavy shifted across the roof, brushing against the stained-glass windows like skeletal fingers.

“No,” Mathers’ hands trembled as he stepped back. “It’s begun.”

Then the church beams screamed—and the world above them erupted into fire and chaos.