by K Fisher
It seemed familiar, but she kept hitting a brick wall the moment she tried to search her mind for where she had heard it. Like a bumper car repeatedly hitting a wall, jumping back a few feet, only to do it again.
“You’ve been placed in this fake version of your reality created by a spell cast by Danira. None of this is real. We need your help, but first you must help yourself. We have your body but she has your mind. The more you realize this is not your reality, the easier it will be to free you.”
A sudden ping of pain hit the middle of Hazel’s forehead. An instant headache as she processed Faye’s words. Clearly, this was a dream. A vivid dream she would soon wake from.
The trees became fuzzier, shaking violently to the left as though a glitch were in place on a game. The dark branches reaching towards the sky jumped in the air, appearing higher above before glitching back to where they had been before, pixelated.
“You think I’m full of shit,” Faye said, but her light eyes were no longer on Hazel, they were on the trees in the clearing. “Good, whatever will do the trick. Just as long as you understand your mind is being tampered with and this is not real. We are the only things real about this place.”
“What are you ladies doing out here?” The front door to the old home opened, an unfamiliar woman coming to the front porch, her hands held a dish towel, bright eyes confused and narrowed at the two newcomers in her front lawn. Of course, Hazel herself had sold the house. It only made sense her father wouldn’t be in her dream and someone else would be living there.
Faye cursed behind her, clearly displeased with the way things were going. She raced towards Hazel and her body was shoved forward suddenly, but she knew who had done it the moment both hands made contact with the back of her shoulder blades.
Hazel staggered forward a few steps before whirling around and grasping onto the front of Faye’s shirt. She wrinkled the fabric up in her hand and pulled her body closer, growling the next words that fell from her lips as she leaned down to meet the woman face-to-face.
“I swear, if you touch me one more time…” But Hazel’s voice trailed off again, the darkness coming suddenly for them both as she spoke to Faye.
Their surroundings had changed once again, a different and even more familiar scene unfolded all around them. Hazel did not release Faye, eyes scanning the room they now had been placed in, confirming what she had been most afraid of.
It was truly just as she had remembered from so long ago.
The classroom was clean and simple, with the desks lined up perfectly before the front desk. The bland color of the room was saved only by the colorful paintings upon the walls; splatters and sketches from the children who resided there at the community home, or orphanage as some called it. She remembered hating the room at first, so used to having more toys surrounding her like there had been in her younger years in the smaller classes, unsure about the new layout for her daily lessons. Yes, they only had to spend a few hours a day in the room, but it had been a big change and there weren’t many kids her age to spend time with. She had truly believed a family would have picked her up by then, but there had not been a connection with the interested parents and those she had gotten close to, they had seemed to quickly pick up on her odd peculiarities and the things she saw, and were not heard from again.
It was in this room she was told she had finally been fit with a family. The only family she would ever remotely belong to.
She was vaguely aware of Faye squirming in her grasp still and released the small woman’s collar. Immediately, Faye’s hands lifted to smooth out her shirt, seeming almost uninterested and unmoved with their current location as she tried to fix the strain in fabric along her neckline.
“Just pushing you through her bullshit, that’s all. Lacko really got her hooks into you. Listen, I know this is all very confusing and it probably feels like something out of a nightmare but just go with it. We need you out of there before she finds out we are breaking you out and comes here herself. There’s no way I can fight against her if that happens. You’ve experienced worse, or so I’ve heard, just focus with me here.”
Hazel’s chest ached with the memories the room threw back to her, every alarm bell ringing out in her mind as she reached out and stabled herself on one of the desks. “Okay, okay. Say I believe you, how do I get out of here? And what exactly have you heard about me?”
Everything seemed so incredibly real beneath her hands, the room around her so familiar and plunging her back into her memories of old. Releasing the desk, Hazel’s fingers pinched at the skin of her arm, flinching at the immediate pain. Yeah, that stung. How could it be a spell or magic if what she was feeling was so incredible real?
Shadows danced along the doorway, sending light scattering through the dark classroom. “Good, awesome, great.” Faye was wringing her hands together, looking far more exhausted than Hazel remembered, as if she had aged ten years in only a few minutes at the mere sight of the shadows.
Her tired eyes met Hazel’s. Faye spoke quickly, becoming more and more uneasy as the shadows continued to dart along the bottom of the door. Suddenly, the room became even colder, all light that had been shed from under the door was blocked by darkness and the iciness spread until it consumed everything in the space, a crackling along the floorboards as the walls began to shudder and fade.
“Focus on me, Hazel,” Faye’s voice was stronger this time, and she quickly met her gaze again. “The spirits know you are aware of the mind trap now. They are going to do everything in their power to keep you here until Lacko gets a better grasp on her failing spell. Good thing she didn’t bank on me getting in and screwing things up. But you need to help me, I can’t do all this cool shit on my own. I can’t hide you anymore, they’re here. Focus, Hazel. Focus on the inconsistencies recently, focus on how absurd this all is. Break through this. The moment those bastards get their hands on you, this won’t work. It’s the only chance and I don’t really have a backup plan. You have to know some magic, focus it.”
There was a huge bang at the door, Faye jumped and clutched at her chest. Hazel’s own heart beat faster and faster. Another loud bang followed before Faye sprang into action, sprinting across the room and locking the door just in time for something on the other side to begin jiggling the handle wildly.
Hazel closed her eyes, focusing as best she could with the banging. Every recent cloudy moment of her life over the last couple of months flashed before her eyes. The odd behavior of her past co-workers, the acceptance of herself she had previously questioned, even the lack of punishment for her lashing out during therapy, all things her logical mind knew she should not be able to get away with. It was like someone had tried to create her a day-to-day life worth living after her accident, but fell asleep at the typewriter when it came to the finer details only she would be able to pick up on - even the mannerisms of those she knew best. Were the spirits who were appearing more and more frequently planted in her mind? A spell?
Hazel felt the earth behind her shifting and moving, much like a rolling earthquake had just hit them. Magic? She didn’t know any magic. But she did know how to ease herself and control her thoughts amid chaos. Deep breath in, deep breath out, scanning from the head down to her toes. There was a scream from Faye as the door smashed open and the temperature of the room plummeted. Cool, calm, collected.
Hazel’s eyes flashed open just in time to see a large, shadowed creature walk into the room, piercing brown eyes fixed on Faye as it took a human step towards her. But the eyes flashed up to Hazel just as the world around her seemed to shade and fade into darkness. There was no definition of objects, no way to make out those colorful designs on the wall; like the scene around her was melting into nothingness. She was vaguely aware of Faye’s laughter filling the room, hysterical and manic as the spell fell apart.
“We win, fucko!” Faye screamed.
Hazel felt herself falling backwards into darkness, the scene before her disappearing completely. As she fell, Hazel s
aw Danira Lacko’s face in her mind, clear as day, remembering instantly the moment she had met the woman, a memory that seemed to have been pushed from her mind.
Hazel’s scream was high and piercing, yet almost muted by the passing air. The sound both fearful and uncontrolled as she fell down into the darkness.
Solid ground was suddenly beneath her feet, hands that were not her own were on her as she was shaken into awareness. Where was she now? Who was with her? How was she going to escape? The panic seized her as Hazel opened her eyes to those touching her. The brightness of the room making her squint and strive for some clarity, her body lifting into a seated position as she clutched her chest.
Immediately, the hands that had been on Hazel removed themselves, the two men in front of her came into focus slowly. “Hazel! You’re back!”
It was an unfamiliar voice that called her name, emerald green eyes peering down at her through the fuzzy haze she drifted in. The man behind the eyes was massive, the military cut hair and tattoos just added to the ‘I’ll kill you and not think twice about it’ vibe he was giving off. He was muscled and daunting, leaning over like a lumbering giant as he spoke to her with excitement, a small pull of a smile against his full lips. Hazel found herself studying his tattoos instead of focusing her attention on the other man in the room, searching for any gang affiliation anywhere among the designs. But she could not understand the scroll on his arm, could not decipher the jagged designs on his muscles. He knew her name, but she knew nothing about him.
The second man was not speaking, his body moving away from her the moment she stirred into awareness. Hazel scooted herself across the floor and away from the two of them, until her back was against a wall, finding a small bit of comfort in the space.
The second man peered over at her calculatingly with dark blue eyes. He seemed to be searching her the same way she had been searching the one who spoke to her, a crinkle of uncertainty between his eyebrows. Adjusting his dark-rimmed glasses, he scoffed in her direction. “Of course, she’s back. Faye doesn’t screw up.” He pulled a hand through messy blonde hair, turning away from them.
He had a strong frame, like the other man, but not nearly as filled out and deadly. There was something calm about this man and Hazel did not know yet if it was something she needed to look out for. In her experience, he could be someone to trust, or a complete psychopath and with what she had just encountered, she was dying for some answers and a bit of safety.
Hazel glanced behind the blonde man, observing a third shape in the room with them. It was a tiny figure on the ground, eyes closed and body motionless. She recognized the long black hair and mocha skin resting against the ground and shakily got to her feet. For a moment, the entire room seemed to spin and turn around her, threatening to make her face plant at any second. Hazel immediately pushed one hand out to steady herself, but a dark shadow had fallen into place next to her, a strong arm linking through hers.
The green-eyed man led her through the room towards Faye. It was empty and cold, reminding her of a meeting hall she used to frequent on the force. But the room was void of tables, chairs, and, well, anything. Where the hell were they?
Hazel focused on the unmoving Faye on the ground. The cerulean-eyed male was crouched down next to her, hands extending to grasp onto her shoulders. “Faye?” he inquired.
The soft awakening was short-lived. Suddenly, he began shaking her shoulders, her head flopping side-to-side with the movement.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Hazel said in alarm, pushing herself away from the strong man who held her and leaning down next to Faye shakily, her body feeling like she hadn’t used her legs in weeks; the muscles weak and sore beneath her. But the moment she reached her hands out to touch Faye, her pale eyes had flashed open, fixed immediately on the roughhousing man with his hands on her.
“Caden, let go of me, you’re going to give me whiplash. I’m fine!” Faye’s words were slurred as though she were drunk, only those focused and sharp eyes telling Hazel otherwise. Eyes that were slowly pulled over to her. “Oh good, you’re awake,” Faye said with a smile that reached her eyes. She allowed Caden to pull her to her feet with one hand around her waist. “Thanks, Cae,” she breathed, “but I could really use a drink, instead.” It didn’t sound like she needed one.
The strong man shook his head next to Hazel, the lumberjack’s voice booming out in the empty office they resided in. “Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here and brief the new kid before we attract unwanted attention. Lacko has to have a pretty good idea we took her pet away, I don’t want to see what happens when she finds her.”
Pet? New kid? Hazel grimaced, shaking her head. “Where am I? I’m not going anywhere until…” But she stopped.
Faye had detached from Caden’s side and approached her, standing in front of her, those light eyes captured her instantly and refused to let her go. It was like a magnet pulsed between them and immediately Hazel felt herself calm, pulled into her gaze and the small woman behind it.
“I was born magically inclined, just like you, Hazel. We call the power Affinities. All of us have one, Caden, Tucker too. Although we can all be trained in magic, my particular brand of Affinity cannot be replicated.” What was it? Who cares, just as long as she got to relax and get lost in those eyes some more, melt into the feeling of security.
“Yeah.” Hazel heard the agreement escape her lips, no control over the word whatsoever.
Faye continued speaking, each word easing Hazel more and more. “I have allure. I can make you calm and relaxed. I can make you more, susceptive to my words and suggestions. I will not force you, simply ease you into understanding. I think you should come with us for more answers, don’t you think, Hazel?” There was a soft, red glow on Faye’s hands, Hazel strangely did not feel the need to comment on it.
“Yeah, yeah I think so…”
“I think we should go now, don’t you, Hazel?”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Five
Six months earlier
Hazel remembered the moment she first interacted with Danira Lacko. It was a memory that had been buried in her own head, hidden from her until she escaped, whatever it was she had escaped. Thankfully, there were a few things she really took pleasure in that assisted with forcing her to leave the home before the spell had been placed, situations she had begun to remember.
Going to the Saturday market in Portland had always been a relaxing experience for Hazel in the past, a chance to shop for local goods and the occasional fresh bouquet of flowers to brighten up her apartment. But more than that, it was a chance for her to get out of her home and engage with others without having to entertain them. It was a luxury Hazel did not give herself often.
That particular Saturday had produced a completely different need which had dragged her away from the neglected laundry, and out of the safety of her home. The desire to shop had not been there, and she had walked straight past the alluring scents of the flowers. It was like a string pulled straight from her chest, providing a trail through the throngs of locals and to the edge of the marked off market area. It tugged and urged her forward.
Hazel stopped at the end of the block, light brown eyes focusing on a colorful tent nestled before the city park. It rested beneath a large, old tree. It was tied around two branches that reached over the sidewalk. The tent was alive, breathing, and pulsing; the sounds of the market dulling until they seemed almost muffled behind her, as if two hands had covered her ears and all she could hear was the tent. Hazel opened her mouth, feigning a yawn as she tried to pop them and break the silence, but it was no use, the world around her remained muffled.
Hazel tugged her brown leather jacket tighter around her, took a deep breath, and started towards the tent where that string of energy led her. The moment before her foot touched the street to cross to the park, she froze with her foot hovering over the ground. No longer did she feel the unexplainable pull towards the tent and across the street. Instead, it was a
s though someone stood before her, a strong hand pressed against her chest to prevent her from moving forward. There was a warmth, a comfort that flooded her body and begged her to turn around and reconsider walking a single step further.
Was it her Guardian? It was a feeling only he had invoked in her before and she had no way of knowing, but it seemed unorthodox to still imagine his presence after so long; especially knowing he could not leave her father’s home. It had to be her own doubt that kept her from moving, her own resistance. “Oh, shove off,” Hazel grumbled.
But was she speaking to herself or to that unseen energy surrounding her? All at once, she was released from the hold, body propelled forward towards the road just as a car turned right, coming a few inches from hitting her.
A honk cleared Hazel’s ears and forced her into action. She gave the car a halfhearted wave of apology, kicking up her heels across the street and away from the sudden danger. Hazel felt herself breathe for the first time when she stopped before the tent, right where the energy had led her.
She had seen this tent a few times before; signs for palm readings and crystal balls that told your future were plastered outside the colorful fabric. It had appeared just a few weekends ago, and something had always steered her away from it, the same strong hand at her chest, producing a silent urging from deep within her to leave and not come back. The distinct scent of incense leaked through the slightly cracked entrance to the tent.
The tent was purple in coloring, covered with blankets of bright hues, looking every bit a magical and colorful, albeit creepy place to practice spiritual things. The local hipsters had to adore every part of it, but it was just unprofessional enough to make Hazel hesitant to enter. Wait, what was considered professional for such a place?
For the past few weekends, Hazel had been happy to heed those warnings and kept away from the psychic’s tent, but the previous night she had seen it so vividly in her dreams; Cries of desperation tore from behind the entrance, the flapped door releasing more and more screams with every gust of wind that hit it. Hazel had gone to the tent in her dream, touched the fine silken fabric that hung over the entrance. The screaming had stopped the moment she entered, welcoming her to the darkness.