Arc 2 - Interlude V: Gwen Keegan

(Hallowmonath 25, 55 / 6:55PM)

Several years ago…

An old door broke upon impact.

Crashing onto the floorboards below, it crumbled to dust from its bridled age and tear. Letting light trample the dust, the stale stench of gasoline corroded the two of their nostrils. Being soldiers, the two of them glance into the old farmhouse, as they wield nothing but rifles and dark green uniforms.

One soldier was a tall lean woman, who had freckles plastered all over her face. The other soldier was a shark-human, with an abnormally large nose.

“Reminds me of my childhood. Well, replace gasoline with beer.”

As soon as they stepped in, the shark-human immediately wrinkled his face and especially his nose. Coughing out loud, his gagging pushed the woman soldier to turn around.

“Come ooooon … don’t tell me gasoline makes you like this as well…”

“Any smell that’s strong … gags … is sensitive to my nose …”

“At this point, anything ethanol related … sighs …”

Pushing her feet forward, she heard the crackling of wood beneath her boots. Screaming with every step she took, she replaced her exhausted face with a smile, and began to hop around softly.

All the while, the shark-human puffed his cheeks like a chipmunk. Pounding his chest with one of his hands, he held the grip of his rifle with the other.

“These floorboards look pretty old.”

“And dangerous … gags … let’s just continue our mission.”

“Just loosen up will you? First of all, what are we even looking for? Heck, even our own Sergeant doesn’t want to tell us what we’re looking for.”

Testing the floorboards with the tips of her boots, she increased the gap between the floor and air with her jumps. Giggling like a little kid, she was like a toddler trying to play a game of hopscotch.

Pinching his nose with his free hand, Benn maintained his sharpened frown.

“Stop doing that. You’re going to fall.”

“Oh make me. What’s the most these old floors could—”

—The floor beneath her snapped.—

Unlike in the cartoons, Gwen’s body immediately fell through the snapped wood. Gravity dragging her down, she landed onto her lower back with an arched body. Her eyes blurred, and her vision trying to reclaim whatever reality she was in … her ears were shackled—

By a large sinister crack.

‘What … what happened …?’

Unable to turn her head, she had the back of her head resting on the pit of hard dirt. Her eyes staring straight at the hole, it looked like she fell two stories down, as a bit of light shone from on top. Clamping both of her palms to the ground, she dug her fingers into the soil, and tried to…

‘Wait … why can’t I move my …’

She didn’t even feel pins and needles within her legs. Pushing her upper body into a seating position, it was like her arms and chest did all the work. While holding her body with her left arm, she extended her right hand onto her knee, and grabbed it with tightened fingers.

But she couldn’t even feel warmth.

“I told you to be careful …”

Peaking out from the hole, Benn had his boots on the edge of the pit. Her eyes widened, she began to hyperventilate.

“H-Help! B-Benn! My legs! I can’t move them! I can’t move my legs!”

‘Shit…’

“I’ll get help!”

Pushing himself out of the farmhouse, it left only Gwen to remain stationary in the dark pit.

Tears welling up in her eyes, she began to upchuck at a rapid pace. Looking around the pit she was in, darkness crept toward every follicle of dirt. Remembering that same darkness, the one that she remembered not too long ago, tears rolled down from her cheeks.

‘I’m scared … Maverick … Daddy … I’m scared …’

Falling onto her left, she clutched her stomach with both of her hands. Keeping her eyes forward, she felt cold; too cold. It shivered her body, it shivered her soul, and it trampled her burdened heart with—

She saw a glowing light.

Breaking through the darkness, it glowed and burdened her brown eyes with white. Tucked away in a corner, it emerged like a Christmas miracle, leaving Gwen to be entranced with it. With no other choice, she burdened her biceps and triceps, and crawled toward the dim light.

‘What is that…?’

Her body swelled up in heat, her palms blistered once calluses formed. Having her hands be dragged through hard dirt, it burned her nerves, making her groan under the pain. And with no pain to quench her legs, it made her shiver the more she crawled.

Until she reached the glowing light.

‘Is that a … crystal?’

Having her left hand hold up her body, she stared straight at the crystal with unwavering eyes. Softly glowing, all calming, she gulped as fear began to caress her soul. Extending her right hand toward the crystal, her fingers barely touched the surface…

—And she found herself in a world full of sand.—

________________________________________________________________________

“Are you ok?”

Her eyes reflected the grains of yellow.

The desert’s dunes standing tall, the wind blew the heat out of the tips. Being stretched as far as the pupil can reach, most of the heat traveled through the sand below. Wherever it may roam, it only left the woman to drop her jaw upon the difference of scenery. Her legs and feet still paralyzed from earlier, the burning sand stung her fingers up to her wrist.

Stiffening her body, her throat quivered.

“W-What was I … what … where …”

“I know you have so many questions, but you are limited to only a few.”

—As she saw a man clad in all black.—

He looked old. Having a tattered leather jacket, ripped black pants, and worn out boots, he didn’t bother to face Gwen. Both of his hands stationed inside his pants pockets, he had his eyes continuing to stare at the horizon.

“So I guess you touched the crystal…”

Gwen glanced at her right hand, and remembered the crystal she touched. Ignoring the pain, ignoring the sizzling that corroded her palm, she raised it slowly … to find nothing.

“I … I don’t—”

“Know? Relax. A crystal’s power is melded into a soul by a single touch. You’ll receive it after I’m done talking with you.”

She caught a glimpse of his thin gray hair, which reached down to the bottom of his neck. Continuing to see the dunes flutter off its sand, he laid his body stiff with the oven-like wind.

“Who are you … and what do you want from me …”

The old man continued to keep his hands in his pockets, while his hair fluttered in the wind. Letting out a hard sigh, he didn’t bother to turn around.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know, but on one condition. To know about the future, one must reflect upon their past.”

Hot wind pelting his jacket, his pants, it prickled and mashed onto the blackened fabric and leather. Squinting through the needlessly grains of sand, she trenched her fingers deep beneath. Doing whatever she can to see his face, it was shadowed. Blocked even.

“But … what is this even about …”

“You are chosen. Chosen to be a part of this great plan. I plan I am conducting…”

Without her knowing, he had his right hand cupping a metal object. Caressing the linings of his palm and wrinkled skin, he raised his hand to the height of his shoulder.

Seeing the object with widened eyes, Gwen felt her upper body leaning forward, as if she was hypnotized by its coating. Her biceps trembling under her weight, her elbows creaked the more she held.

“Here.”

Tossing the device backhanded, it arched and trajected the landing a meter in front of her. Pelting into the sand, half of it stuck out, making Gwen quiver the more she stared.

“By seeing your turning points, it’ll make you realize how far you’ve come.”

Gwen feasted her eyes, but she didn’t bulge nor soar any strength. Trying to stall her body straight, she gulped, and allowed the dry saliva to plunge her throat.

Tilting her head upward, she quivered her lips.

“But … why … why should I touch it …”

“Think of it like this … are you happy with yourself?”

Gwen let the burning sand sting her palms ever more, but his words swayed away the pain.

From the cuts from her wrists, and without even glancing in back, he knew what sort of life she lived. Given the circumstances, she was lucky that she was able to walk forward, but barely. Still harboring those demons, demons that caressed and molested her very soul, she hated them … despised them … she wanted them to stop …

“In order for people like us to carry on, burden ourselves with people’s sins … we have to reflect on those horrors.”

Turning her eyes toward the device, she bit down her upper lip. Feeling her whole body succumbed to the metal, it was like the medicine she needed for her heart…

“Which gives us the light at the end of a dark tunnel.”

Slowly reaching for the device, she had both of her palms scraping the sand with gritting teeth. Extending her right hand outward, her palm clamped onto the top of the metal device. Her breathing drawing short, her body weight crumpled forward, making her land on her chest and stomach.

“But be warned. You’ll relive those memories with all five senses…”

The oven-like wind ceasing, and her world unwilling to revolve, it was like time had stopped.

“And there’s no escape until it ends.”

—She vanished.—

Sucked into nothingness, total darkness wasn’t meant to describe what she saw. All of her senses forgotten, misled, she heard from her nose, tasted with her ears, licked with her fingers—nothing was random.

And after randomness … was nothing.

________________________________________________________________________

(Ostermonath 17, 49 / 6:12PM)

Six years old…

A man’s cries deafened the room he sulked.

Burrowing his face into the poorly washed bedsheets, his sorrow washed the very fabric. His knees pinned on the wood, it was old, as splinters scattered the endless oak.

“Angie…”

Gripping the sheets with his curled up fingers, he moaned and cried the more he remembered. His whole body shaking, he didn’t dare to glance in back of him. With the room being bridled in old wood, and his bare feet coarse with dirt, his toes down to his heels were submerged in black.

“Why … Why her Lord …”

Having a simple wooden cross above his bed, he couldn’t bring himself to glance at it either. His eyes pinkish red … he quickly got up with splintered knees. Shaking the old floorboards, he kicked open the door with only his right foot.

“Damn you to hell! Damn your white robes!”

Stomping through the hallway, he didn’t heed anything for his surroundings.

Reaching the kitchen, he ignored the many pictures stacked on the walls. And upon reaching the white refrigerator, he saw a wooden cross, one that would fit in a person’s pockets. Out of rage, he grabbed the crucifix, and threw it across the room.

Opening the door to the fridge, he rummaged through the many ingredients with dirt in his hands. Taking out leftover after leftover, a couple of food and ingredients spilled to the floor. Without hesitation, he thrusted his right hand forward.

Taking out a simple beer bottle, the lid was already opened.

“To hell with it.”

Placing the lid up to his lips, he allowed the brown liquor to caress his mouth.

Swirling his tongue, yeast and water salted his teeth down to his gums. Turning his mouth yellow, he had himself forcing the contents down. Followed by his feet straining the splintered floor, the bottle angled at 180 degrees.

Finalizing the last of his drink, he pulled the bottle away. Gravity pulling his arm down, he hiccuped, and stared at the roof with barely awake eyes.

“That hit the spot…”

Hitting him like a freight train, he collapsed to the floor, pushing away dust. Laying on the ground, he sprawled all of his arms and legs outward, and stared at the ceiling.

‘W-What was I going to do again…? W-Was I supposed to feed G-Gwen dinner…?’

Failing to cleave away that thought, he closed his eyes, and allowed the liquor to claim victory.

And peeking her head out the corner, was a little girl looking to be six. Having a ponytail, having freckles, her skin was somewhat botched with dirt as she wore overalls. Her hands gripping the edge of a corner, she didn’t care if splinters pinched her palms or her bare feet.

“Daddy…”

Tears in her eyes, it stung them, as she remembered the family pictures that hung on the family wall. All those memories, all those sweet instances of having a loving mother and father—were swept by a dark current.

________________________________________________________________________

(Luyen 3, 52 / 4:32PM)

Twelve years old…

Chaos shook the old walls.

Inside a small wooden room, papers and books scattered the floor. Along with the bed, homemade pencils stationed on top of dressers and the window still. With curtains blocking the burning sunlight, it was as if the room was detached from reality.

“Make it stop…”

Snuggled under the blankets, was a boy with dark brown hair and freckles. Tucked away like a baby, he continued to hear the chaos that plunged his ears, making him close his ears shut. Using his palms, he rocked back and forth, as some of his hair prickled his forehead.

“Mommy…”

Tucking his elbows in, his whole body was drenched in sweat. Waiting for the calling of a motherly voice, he never knew a mother’s love. Ever since he was baby, he sensed the darkness dancing on his skin.

“Gwen…”

Clenching his eyes shut, the world of darkness turned into nothing. His mind filled with thoughts, all of his cavity-ridden teeth chipped from his grounded teeth. Wanting to hear a voice, any voice, he wanted it to be feminine and pure.

“I don’t want to … I don’t—”

The sounds of fighting ceased. Without letting go of his ears, he felt the walls that connected his bed, fail to bring in the chaos. Widening his eyes, he felt the warmth of his body heat creat a greenhouse. His breath breaking, it traveled in slow breaths, but he eventually closed his eyes once more.

The door to his room swung open. Freezing his body, he remained tucked away like an armadillo in its shell. Not allowing any breath to be drawn, the boy puckered his lips into his mouth, and stalled his lungs.

But even those were soon unveiled. The blankets above being yanked, he opened his eyes, and emerged himself out of that darkness. Unballing himself, he turned around … and let go of his ears.

—“It’s ok.”—

Her voice whistled his ears.

Bringing his head up from the bed, the crevices of his eyes began to build up tears. Holding them back like a rushing river, he saw a tween girl who held freckles. Her long hair braided in a ponytail, she was none other than—

“Gwen!”

In an instant, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Ignoring her wounds, both her cheeks and eyes had a purplish glow to them. Along with her lips swollen, dry blood lingered on the right side of her lip.

And in return of giving her a hug, she had wrapped his arms around his back. Her palms reddened with blisters, callusses, even a couple of scars roamed her knuckles.

“Did—”

“Shh. Keep quiet. Dad’s still in a bad mood.”

“But Gwen—”

He placed his head onto her chest, and heard her beating heart. Clutching onto the cotton of her overalls, he dug his nails into her overalls.

And instead of pushing out words, tears stream-rolled down his cheeks.

“I’m here, just keep quiet and stay with me. It’ll be ok.”

With no light drawing in, the blinds from the window did its duty without question. Placing her chin on top of his head, she felt the dandruff trickle her jaw. As she softly wept.

‘Why didn’t Dad believe me…’

Trying to maintain her emotions, mucus ran down from her nostrils, as she stared at the binds blocking the light. Grinding every ounce of her teeth, some of them chipped, with most of them shaded in bits of black. Feeling blood glimmering her gums, she turned her eyes bloodshot red.

[So you’re his daughter…]

She saw a man dressed in brown leather clothing, his eyes shaded in dark sunglasses. Being in the dead of night, he stood in the kitchen, with a beer hanging low to his side. With her father sleeping on the couch, he looked to be out cold.

[You look bony as hell. Does your own Daddy even feed you?]

Placing his beer bottle on the table, he glanced at the plate of mashed potatoes and chicken near him. Without making any sudden movements, he grabbed the glass plate, and kept his eyes on her. Slowly nodding up and down…

Licked his lips.

[Let me feed you.]

________________________________________________________________________

(Octavian 12, 52 / 10:30PM)

13 years old…

Outside the old rundown, was a vast field of just sunflowers.

During the day, the flowers showed and reflected its mendicant light. But at night, the meadow became a cesspool of darkness, filled with insects, rodents. Just for one night…

Two kids ran through the field.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but there!”

Darkened clouds above, no stars shone in the sky. Keeping her eyes forward, she had her right hand gripping Maverick’s wrist. Feeling the flowers scratch their overalls, every step they traversed lodged dirt into their worn out shoes.

Maverick glanced at the house, a house he could barely see with the naked eye.

“B-But Daddy’s going to beat us if we—”

“Then I’ll take mine and yours when we get back! No way I’m letting both of us be in that house!”

Dirt and bugs smacking their faces, even the sunflowers whipped across their cheeks. Her breathing hardened, she kept her lips sealed, as dirt latched near the edges of her mouth. Closing her eyes, she sniffled softly—

[Hello princess.]

His voice was like venom.

Being in the doorway between the hallway and her room, she sat on the edge of the bed. Gripping the sheets tightly, her eyes widened.

[Your daddy is asleep again, and it looks like you’re still not fed…]

With a beer bottle gripped upon his right hand, he had it low to his side. Still having the same shade of sunglasses, it was like the gates to his soul were blocked.

His left hand on the door handle, the door was open and riddled with mold. Pushing the corners of his lips upward, both reached the bottom of her ears.

[Let me show you a good time; like always.]

—The door to her room softly closed … and a lock shingled.—

If the cold night didn’t shiver her, the breath of his beer-filled mouth did. Swaying her head, the cold turned her cheeks and nose pink red. Tasting the dirt, she glared her eyes forward rather than back.

‘I don’t … I don’t wanna …’

Being in front of Maverick, she didn’t allow a single sunflower to smack his body. Taking all the bugs, the dirt; the pain, she cultivated it all for her brother’s sake. Pushing through the stems, pushing through the flowers, she felt the left side of her body pinch.

‘I don’t want to play that game anymore…’

Tripping on a stem, her body thrusted forward. Slamming onto the hard dirt ground, her chin bruised upon impact.

Because Maverick was dragged with her, it led him to topple onto her, like a cushion. Both of them laid on the dirt like insects, with Gwen not caring of her clothes got soiled.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“That’s good. That’s good…”

Glancing down at the dirt, she stared at the tiny brown rocks that made it up. Her palms gripping upon it, her stomach and chest smoldering it, it was all she could feel at that point of time…

Dirt.

‘... I don’t want to grovel in dirt no more…’

But then her face glowed.

Feeling a sense of purity on her cheek, Gwen glanced up at the night sky still burdened with clouds.

Setting her tailbone to the hard soil, she shrugged Maverick off of her back. Letting all of her body be focused on the fading clouds, Maverick did too, copying the same pose. God giving them a sign, a beacon to pursue, Gwen’s eyes sparkled at what he gave her…

—Stars; etching to the culmination of the cosmos.—

Millions of stars lighting the sky, it twinkled their eyes like moths to a flame.

Both of their mouths agape, it was a light show they always yearned for. Being lower than dirt, the bottom of society, they rested, ate, and lived in an old shack in the middle of nowhere. But now, in front of them, they saw what could be the very last break…

“Wow…”

Before the pendulum turns.

Forgetting the cold air around her, forgetting her scars and bruises, she felt a tinge of tears underneath her eyes. Wanting to see this sight with someone, a mother and father, all she got was her younger brother.

But that was more than enough.

Her hand numb, she then pushed her fingers into her palm. Continuing to see the constellations from above, she grinded her teeth. With light raining down on her, she knew … she had to make a stand.

“Maverick…”

Turning her eyes toward him, he continued to maintain his stare at the flickering stars. She lifted her head down, and stared at the soil that burdened her tailbone.

“I want to be a soldier.”

That single sentence brought Maverick back to Terra.

Turning his head toward her, he kept his lower lip hung with an open mouth. Pressing his hands onto the dirt, he felt his throat flicker.

“But … what about—”

“I won’t forget about you. Look, once I finish basic training, go through all the requirements…”

Grabbing his hands, she made sure that fingers wrapped around his knuckles. Even when they felt their cheeks blemish red, or their nostrils flowing with mucus, they both kept eye contact.

“I’ll get you out of that house, with money racking up in my pockets. I promise.”

She had a fire within her eyes.

Unwilling to back down on her promise, she narrowed the crevices of her eyes to make herself confident. Making him nod, but softly, she felt his hands quiver under the intensity of her vow.

“O-Ok … ok …”

Leaving the two of them to shiver under the cold, both of them laid on the dirt. With the stars in the sky, and sunflowers surrounding them, they both laid on their backs—

And watched as time moved the stars.

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 27, 55 / 3:02PM)

18 years old…

“Hey slow down porky! Can’t you eat your food normally!?”

“And doesn’t it hurt to use napkins! Heck! You’re eating with your hands! What are you five!?”

Two soldiers yelled straight to the young woman.

All around them, soldiers garnished in dark green ate with forks and spoons. With napkins by their side, they sat with civility and pride … but as for a certain young woman …

Her fingers were mashed with mashed potatoes, and gravy dripped from her nails. Crackers and crumbs littering her cheeks, she had them stuffed to the max, making her look like a chipmunk.

“I’m jwuet eaatinn norally.”

“I don’t understand you!”

“Swallow!”

Following their order, Gwen gulped down the food that pushed her cheeks outward. Letting it go down her throat, and into her stomach, she didn’t bother to clean the crumbs from her lips.

“So what if I eat like this?”

“Were you raised in a barn!?”

“No, I was raised in a shack.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Wait a minute … I think I’m starting to understand now…”

Gwen glanced down at the food she ate, as her hand was millimeters from caressing the mashed potatoes. Gravy smoldering her nails, and bits of cracker dripping from her chin, she glanced up at the two soldiers.

Both of them were beast-humans. One of the soldiers had pointed ears and an eyepatch, making him an elf with one eye. While the other was a dog-human, his face chiseled and hardened like he experienced numerous battles. Seeing the two always picked on her, she grabbed the mashed potatoes with stingy fingers.

“Ain’t no way I’m sharing my food with both of you. These potatoes are mine.”

“I’m not interested in your contaminated food!”

“Come to think of it Jerry, I think I’m starting to feel bad for her. Remember where she was from? She’s from the Prairie fields …”

The elf Jerry shook his head, and folded his arms beneath his chest. Staring at Gwen, he didn’t have a frown or a glare, but looked at her like pure worry. Looking like he was seeing the worst movie of his life, Gwen furrowed her brow.

And raised her right leg over her knee.

“Huh? So what if I was a countrygirl?”

“It means your … slower in cognitive abilities.”

“Eh?”

“It means you're dumb.”

“E-Eh!?”

Gawking her mouth open, she laid her hand on the table with food still leftover. Twitching her lips, she balled her right hand, and slowly lifted herself off of her seat. Her cheeks flushed red, she stood stall, and placed both of her hands onto her hips.

“I am not dumb!”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“You can’t eat right, you can’t clean yourself right, you charge into random things without thinking … and you have horrible hygiene. Seriously, I could smell your breath from here.”

“S-Shut up!”

Despite flustering her, the two soldiers sat on the same table she ate. Placing their metal trays flat on the surface, they decided to eat their food in peace.

But Gwen didn’t let them go. Maintaining her right hand into a fist, she pointed her left finger at them. Puffing up her cheeks, she glared at them with redenned cheeks.

“You guys are jerks! Bullies! Say you're sorry!”

“We’re not mean. We’re just being real.”

“Yeah, what Jerry said.”

“Gwen Keegan. Gwen Keegan. Please report to the colonel’s office immediately.”

Most of the soldiers ignored the speaker, as they continued to eat in peace. With only Jerry and the dog-human staring at Gwen, she was startled by the sudden call out.

Pulling her left hand back, she let go of her right fist. Pushing up a smirk, she began to walk toward the colonel’s office. But just as she walked, she twirled her body 360, and stuck out her middle fingers.

“Hahaha! See you jerks!”

Several minutes later…

Swinging the door open, Gwen entered.

The room was filled with wine bottles, all stacked onto shelves. Along with a small smoke trail shimmering through the room, the trail had sufficed in her nostrils. Coughing out softly, her lungs had bits of black, considering she dealt with second-hand smoke and mold.

Sitting on an office chair was none other than the Colonel. Standing straight, she gripped the wooden rich floor with her raggedy boots, and performed a salute needed for his authority.

“Sir.”

“At ease, private. I’m going to make this quick.”

Having a cigar in between his lips, the origin of smoke was from the burly stick. His back slouched on the chair, he had his fingers holding the cigar, while his left held a letter. Making direct eye contact with Gwen, he closed his eyes, and pulled the cigar from his lips.

“Take this letter and read it. Someone sent you it from an anonymous source.”

“Anonymous source?”

“But take your time with it…”

Throwing the paper to the edge of the desk, he continued to slouch in his seat. With his desk riddled with paperwork, he tilted his head down, and began to darken his face amidst the rays of light.

Gwen took two steps forward, and grabbed the letter that hung on the edge. Tearing apart the front, bits of the paper softly littered the floor, until she reached the inside of the cover.

‘I wonder who is it from? If it’s the lead singer of Metallic, then it must be a love letter.’

Dropping the cover to the ground, she gripped the edges of the paper with both her fingers.

Letting her thoughts roam free as she read, she recalled that metal concert she snuck into. Going backstage, seeing her favorite band play her favorite songs, she even got to talk with one of the band members … along with a couple of guards.

‘Let’s see if Heefield kept his promise—’

“To Gwen Keegan.

Unfortunately, your father was found dead in his home at around early noon. He and a friend of his had their throats slit, with the weapon being a long double-edged knife. We could only conclude that your brother might be the killer, but his whereabouts are unknown. I hope this message doesn’t inflict any harm physically; or mentally, upon your well-being.

Your’s truly.

Maverick Keegan.”

Time stopped.

Finishing the last sentence, she felt all of her weight shackle her knees. Her legs and feet succumbing to static, it was like glass pinched her bones.

Her hands felt like they were pinched, her chest upchucked in and out through her throat. Having a heart that pounded her chest, having it wanting to burst open, her face began to pale the more she remembered.

“No… no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

Placing the cigar on a metal tray, he darkened his face. Gwen’s whole body shivered the longer she held it all in. But in less than a second, she closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around her chest and stomach.

As she began to cry.

From the moment her father indulged in beer…

The moment he chose friends over family…

And the moment she experienced true evilness…

She brought the note to her chest, and cried. All of her legs, all of her feet, they were shackled with static the more she weeped. Her cheeks stained with tears, her vocals clashed with the octaves of her sorrowful ballad.

‘I would've … I could’ve saved you!’

Mucus running down her nostrils, it stained her upper lip down to her jaw. Feeling her own cheeks be stung, she kept her eyes peeled on the wood … wood that didn’t have a feel to the same dirt she laid on as a kid.

‘If only I … if only I just had enough money …’

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(Reverence 28, 55 / 3:33AM)

It was late at night.

The streets littered with scattered trash, the smell of piss and beer ruminated the asphalt. With the area ghetto, it didn’t matter much to the woman who walked. Her hands in her pockets, nothing could shine on her pale yet darkened face. With her hoodie blocking her eyes, not a soul or ghost could trace her brown irises.

—As she noticed the edge of an overpass.—

‘I…’

She stood on the center of the sidewalk. The thoughts warping her heart, body, and soul; even her own head racked with voice.

Beyond the railing, was a twenty foot drop to the bottom. Her hearing blared, her eyes focused, she stared down at the highway that only several cars strolled through.

‘I did …’

In her right hand, she held a paper. Gripping the note with tenacity, it softly ripped the more she stabbed it with her fingers. And upon her left hand, she held a butter knife, with the tip smeared with blood.

‘Everything I…’

Trickling from the metal, it stained the concrete a crimson red. Not only the knife, but her wrists ventured the red liquid, as it looked like they were slashed.

‘I did everything I could …’

Dropping the knife, she couldn’t hear the metal click upon the concrete. Pushing the note into her pocket, her eyes caressed the black asphalt of the highway she stared at. With just a little push forward, her boots clamped through the cold air.

‘I can’t take it anymore… I can’t smile…’

Seeing the cars stroll through the highway, she began to be drawn by their headlights. Her eyes unable to reflect their light, she grudgingly reached the edge of the railing, as her boots and thighs stumbled abruptly.

‘There’s nothing left for me … nobody to cling onto…’

Being in front of the railing, she placed both of her hands onto the top of the metal. Her callused palms enveloping the material, it coarse and rubbed her skin.

‘Only this…’

Taking a big breath in, she inhaled the influx of car emissions and cheap air. And pushing it through her throat, she unleashed years worth cigarette smoke, booze, and mold that lingered her lungs.

‘Only this option, that I’m forged to do…’

Coughing out a few times, saliva spewed onto the sidewalk, with yellow tinting the drool. With trembling arms, shaking hands, the yellings within her soul were brought to cataclysmic levels.

‘Mother … if you’re hearing me …’

Glancing up at the night sky, she saw no stars to shine on her. The clouds darkened, the mist surrounded the city streets, it was like her beacon of hope faded away …

—‘I’m going home…’—

Slowly, she placed her whole body weight on the center of the railing. Clutching it with both hands, she moved her right foot on the edge, and then her other as well. Having her entire body be on the other side, she held the railing twitchingly.

As the voices began to worsen.

Her body leaning forward, she spread both of her legs apart. Facing the highway with darkened eyes, all of her face succumbed to shadow. Feeling the adrenaline, feeling her heart beating against her chest, she could see bits of nothingness began to sweep in. Her whole life beginning to flash before her, she didn’t close her eyes, not one bit.Glued to the ground, as bits of stone crumbled from the edge, she didn’t look up … she couldn’t.

She thought they failed her.

Letting a small breath to intake her lungs, the thoughts, the voices, the voices, the thoughts, the voices, voices, voices—

[The world can be a horrible place.]

She heard a male voice.

Everything awakened. Her thoughts, her voices, her darkness … everything suddenly came to an abrupt halt. As light shone not into her eyes—but into her ears.

The world turned black.

________________________________________________________________________

She was brought back to the present—but not her present present.

Beyond the edges of the world, were nothing but sand. Time itself nonexistent, her body was drenched in a heap of hot sweat.

And being in the same position she was last time, she had her chest and stomach grizzled on the burning sand. Her eyes taking in the old man, her head was tilted upward, and she felt no feeling within her legs and feet.

“W-Was that it …”

“Correct.”

The old man continued to stare at the horizon, all the while she startled herself awake. To him, it was like a second had passed. But to her, combined with the minutes, hours, days, weeks; she felt the pain and grief that she collected through all those turning points.

“Do you know why I brought you here, Gwen Keegan? It’s because you touched that crystal.”

“Is it a blessing?”

“No … vastly more … ten to a hundred times greater.”

Gwen began to crawl, as most of her forearms and palms stung by the sand. Soaring every muscle within her upper body, her biceps, triceps, chest, back, shoulders; everything pushed forward with grounded teeth. Feeling her teeth bleed, gum disease continued to reek her tongue and breath.

“Let’s just say you're a powerhouse. A woman soaring with light and radiance. But how you use it determines your strength and tenacity.”

Continuing to grovel on the sand, bits of it shackled into her uniform and clothes. Feeling her skin be pelted, feeling it sting her stomach and chest, she reached the point of no return.

Once she extended her right hand outward, she grabbed his ankle with stabbing fingers.

“Why me … out of all the women in the world … why me…”

The old man didn’t glance at her fingers. Making sure his head was facing forward, his mysterious facade continued to grow. Breathing in through parched nostrils, he let the sand trickle his lungs.

“Because you shone brighter than anyone. You smiled through darkness, laughed through hard times, you found jokes in the most serious of times.”

“But I never—”

“That’s what you were to me…”

Unable to hold her upper body, her left hand faltered under her body weight. Plopping down to the sand, she laid her right cheek flat, and it sizzled her jaw up to her eye.

Feeling like she was on a frying pan, she was left laying on the ground. Digging her fingers into his skin, no blood was drawn, but it was enough for him to sneer.

“Why do you always cling onto others? It’s a bad habit that you could never break…”

Every ounce of her vocals growled and trembled, and every follicle under her skin sweltered under the heat. Breathing heavily, digging sharply, she didn’t want to let go of him.

As her voice crackled, like firecrackers exploding beneath the water’s surface.

“For all my life, I have achieved nothing. Nobody cared about me, nobody appreciated me, nobody even knew if I even existed. I haven’t done anything … anything! Anything useful! My parents are gone … my brother is missing … I have no one to cling onto … So please … please … please—”

“You’re wrong.”

—The old man finally turned around.—

Loosening her grip on his ankle, she still had her fingers caressing his black pants. With the sun looming a couple of inches above his head, the blinding light made tracing his face almost impossible.

Pulling her body close, making her eyes feast upon the mysterious man, she ignored all pinches of sand.

“Even if no one cares, even if no one acknowledges your existence, that doesn’t give you the right to quit. All it takes is one person to push you forward; even if the entire world pushes you back.”

“But I have no one …”

“Then find that someone. Even if that someone is shy and weak, or pessimist, or a prankster, or anti-social, or a wannabe big brother, or shy and jealous, or angry … or even a degenerate, or scared of everything, or a wannabe terrorist, or a masochist, or a sadist … find a group.”

He finally began to crouch down to her level, leaving the sun to rain down on her clothing. Feeling it swell her back, she was only infatuated with the old man who gave her comfort; oddly.

Placing his right knee on the sand, he held his body straight. Extending them outward, the outline of his face was still shadowed … but she could see a patch of wrinkles. And having his hands on her shoulders, he made sure that her irises locked into his world.

“And all you have to do is grow. Grow and shine. That’s everything that you need to push forward. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Violent wind began to coarse the very sand they either laid, or kneeled on. Keeping their eyes locked together, not even the harrowing and blistering air was enough to break them.

Sensing the incoming storm, the old man got up from the ground, as sand trickled down from his knee. Meanwhile, Gwen tried to maintain eye contact, but upon tracing the outline …

“Who are you…?”

The booming wind soon fluttered his fedora, a fedora that was stuck on his head for the entirety of his talk. Raising his left hand up, he hunkered it down, while lowering his voice an octave.

“That question isn’t important … but …”

Digging his boots into the loosening sand, the inferno-like sand swished and swashed all over their bodies. Too unwilling to move, her focus on his face led her to raise her upper body up. Until she reached an angle, an angle where he blocked his head with the sun.

Giving her a clear shot of his face.

—“Promise me that you’ll bring us to Paradise.”—

In that instant, the world that she saw, felt, heard, tasted, and smelled … was no more.

________________________________________________________________________

(Hallowmonath 27, 55 / 3:21AM)

She arched her whole body forward.

Flincing everyone that was around her, four male soldiers jumped out from the seats they relaxed in. Slowly and carefully, they all got up from their chairs, and blinked at the awakened woman.

Carefully tending her breathing, she huffed through her mouth, and laid eyes on her Sergeant. Having two uzis stacked on his holsters, he had a couple strands of gray on his temples.

“Private Gwen.”

His hands inside his cargo pants, his combat medal gleamed. Having a prickly gray beard, he had a straightened back brimming with strictness.

“You’ve been asleep for thirty-six hours. How are you holding up?”

“Sergeant Hill. I believe she is still recovering. With all due respect, I would suggest giving her some peace—” Said Jerry, who was interrupted by none other than…

“There’s no need. I’m doing ok.”

Gwen had her hands stationed on a simple white blanket. Looking to be more of a sheet of paper than cotton, she soon felt her butt grow cold, leaving her to furrow her brow.

Peeking below the sheet, she found nothing covering her lower region. Flustering her face pink, she held the white sheet with her life.

“W-Where’s my underwear?!”

“It’s inside the desk to your left.”

“W-W-Why did they strip me!? Are they checking me out!?”

“That was because they were. They analyzed you from the waist down.”

“Huh?”

Gwen softened her hold on the sheet, but she kept it down regardless. Raising one of her eyebrows, she kept her eyes on the Sergeant. Folding his arms beneath his chest, he recollected what he was told, and he remembered their faces and worry.

“When you fell down that hole, you broke your spine in two. It should’ve paralyzed you from your legs down to your feet, but a miracle happened.”

He remembered the doctor’s eyes. Feeling like they stumbled onto treasure, their eyes lit on what the reports told them. Even the Sergeant raised his eyes, and allowed his jaw to clench at the piece of info.

Info that shackled an image in his brain.

“Your body showed no signs of damage at all. Hell, the fall even fixed up your rotten teeth and gums.”

Her lips quivered once.

Stepping to his right, he allowed Gwen to take in the X-Ray posted on the wall. Looking to be her back, all of her bones and skeleton lavished in normalcy. No fractures, no damage, nothing stood out other than her fresh gums.

Pushing her head down the pillow, her grip loosened with the sheets.

“Now Gwen, did you find anything in that hole? A crystal perhaps?”

“A crystal? How did you know?”

“I got a tip from an old friend, saying he needed a favor. I don’t want to get into too much of the details, but he said he needed it. But I never thought the crystal would be infused in you…”

The sergeant stacked his hands into his jacket, as it was camouflaged in dark green. Tilting his head down, he darkened his cheeks and his eyes, as he saw the floor with stern eyes.

Not only him, but the three other men also glanced around the room. Checking if they were watched, whether it be from the doctors, the cameras, or even from the windows, they all felt uneasy. If what the Sergeant was true, that meant Gwen was an anomaly, a tool that could be used by a puppet master…

“So what now?” Muttered Benn.

“I planned on making this mission my last. In the next few days, I will be officially retiring.”

“But what about Gwen?”

“Her, you, Jerry, and Spencer are being assigned to a new squad.”

Gwen gripped the sheets, and tried to dig them through with her nails. Along with Jerry and the dog-human averting their eyes, both gruffled under the words that drew from his mouth. Even Benn felt a tinge of sadness, but he didn’t show it.

Laying his back on the wall, the Sergeant had his head slightly hunched forward.

“The friend that I told you all about, his name is Boris. He will be the overseer of all three of you, and he wants you three to be his soldiers; personally.”

Every ounce of his skin relaxed under the cold air. As if he was placed onto winter weather, his whole body shivered, until he leaned off from the wall.

“He’s planning an upcoming group, but he stopped with the details there… and relax, it’s only leadership that is changing.”

Benn glanced at the AC unit on the other end of the room. Placing his hands in his pockets, so did Jerry and Spencer. Keeping them warm, the noise that the unit created was enough to be background noise.

“So as of now, you four will be elite soldiers. Mentors even.”

“Excuse me sir, but I’m also finishing up my last years as well. Remember the contract I had?” Said Spencer.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.”

The dog-human had raised his hand from his pocket, and kept it stalled on his side. Out of the four privates, the dog-human looked to be the most hardened, most mature looking. With Gwen and Benn looking to be new, and Jerry being a couple of years older than them, it made Spencer superior.

But not in the eyes of the Sergeant.

“Permission to speak sir, but what is this group or regiment called?”

Jerry spoke out with a tone of curiosity, as one of his brows was raised up to his forehead. With all three men walking closer to the Sergeant, they huddled in a group.

Gwen opened the drawer next to her. Keeping her other hand on the white sheet, she scoured the insides for a simple fabric of cloth, underwear that covered her lower regions.

Knowing she was trying to change, the men in the room didn’t glance back.

“It’s a group that specializes in elite tactics and training. One meant to venture in raids, deal with terrorists, and protect domestic interests. For what they’re named … they go by …”

—The Dark Angels.—