The Hollow Gods

by A. J. Vrana

  Miya felt Callahan’s eyes on her. Was her panic obvious? If her struggles were the result of a sleep disorder, it was welcome news. And yet, Miya knew it couldn’t be that simple.

  Part of her wanted to burst into tears and tell him everything, to bury herself in the safety of adult authority and let him decide what was best. But she was too stubborn. How could she really believe she was the target of a supernatural kidnapping? Where had her skepticism gone?

  Yet there was a part of her that wanted it. Was the Dreamwalker coming for her because she wanted to disappear? To get away from her life and live in some distant fairy tale? Miya had always yearned for something more. She’d hoped for it since she was a child, since the day she saw the wolf at the playground.

  She supposed a better question was: how could she not believe? Wasn’t meeting Kai proof that there was something more?

  A light smack on the shoulder jolted her back to the room. “What?” She looked around, bewildered.

  Dr. Callahan guffawed, his mood shifting. “Oh, come on,” he said, “no need to take it that seriously. I’m just saying, don’t put fuel on the fire, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Miya sighed. “I’ll try not to.”

  With nothing left to be done, he informed her she’d receive a call about her psych appointment, then left her to change back into her clothes. She couldn’t wait to leave the hospital, her eagerness forgoing protocol as she walked out the front doors without even checking to see if Callahan had signed her discharge papers. Frankly, she didn’t really care. She looked healthy enough, so no one stopped her as she all but slammed through the revolving doors with the restraint of a Soviet tank.

  Stopping a few paces past the entranceway, Miya looked up and stretched. It was still dark out, the sun just barely lightening the eastern sky to a dim, blue glow. As she turned to her right, she was startled by a large raven perched in one of the trees by the waiting room windows. He was staring at her, his head lilting to the side as he examined her curiously.

  “Yeah, don’t ask,” she told the raven, not caring if she sounded crazy. “It’s been a long night.” She watched him tilt his head the other way like he was responding to her. Amused by the unusual gesture, she smiled, her body feeling lighter. “I’ll see you around, buddy.”

  As Miya cut through the parking lot, she swung her backpack over her shoulder and considered where she wanted to go. She needed a detour before heading home. Tugging the hoodie around her shoulders, she zipped it up as a cold wind blasted her head-on. Miya knew she’d be pushing her luck, but she could think of only one place in the world appropriate for a pit stop: her sanctuary. And it wasn’t just in hopes of some magical encounter. After all, it had been a week since she and Kai parted ways. This time, she really needed to think. Besides, Miya figured if the Dreamwalker intended to kidnap her, she wouldn’t do so in broad daylight. That didn’t seem like her style. No—she’d want to come for Miya when it was least expected.

  It was a long but worthwhile walk; Miya got to watch the sunrise for the first time in ages. She took a seat on the swing and let her body sway. With only the sound of the wind and the creak of metal chains accompanying her, her tension melted away.

  She wondered if she was sane to be frightened and excited. She could be kidnapped, and yet all she could think about was what might await on the other side. Where did the thrill come from? Was it the prospect of going to a new world? Of learning truths she couldn’t otherwise learn? Miya didn’t even know if such a journey was possible, but she supposed it didn’t matter. It might have been illogical, completely counter to the way reality was supposed to work, but Miya reckoned truth didn’t follow the tide of possibility. Whatever tide truth drifted on, it had its own ruler. It just wasn’t something anyone would know about.

  28

  Kai

  Humanity was insufferable. Up until recently, Kai had been spared its touchy-feely, bleed-your-heart-out and cry-until-your-eyes-turn-to-pudding bullshit. He never had any trouble making decisions, no qualms or second thoughts about turning his back to someone and leaving them behind. Either they left, or he would.

  Relationships with people were rare, but they happened, either by accident or out of temporary necessity. He’d once gotten close to a waitress who took her smoke breaks by one of the dumpsters he’d sift through for supplies. He was content to let her bring him leftovers from the kitchen, maybe even share a drink as she complained about her good-for-nothing boyfriend, but when she wanted to get to know him, learn about his baggage—he bailed. Maybe she didn’t mind dumpster divers, but he already knew he couldn’t be himself with her, even if he wanted to. There was no room for sentimentality, let alone the bat-shit crazy that came with it. The dial on people’s emotions was more fragile than a frat boy’s ego.

  And Kai was no stranger to fragility; he had his own wounds to lick. Volatile emotions were the reason he’d almost spent his weekend burying dead bodies, had it not been for the girl’s timely interference. He didn’t need more blood on his hands.

  After chasing her off, he left the hunters for dead, hoping they’d be bitten by something poisonous and eaten by maggots. He resisted going back to finish them off, the agitation and restlessness pawing at him with newly-sharpened claws. In the following days he tried everything to settle it—hunting, starting fights with drunken men, tree stumps, and walls. He even tried occupying himself with the company of women, picking the ones he could smell wanted him. Even if Kai wasn’t great with people, he understood their bodies far better than their words. People smelled different when they were horny.

  He went through the motions—tearing through animal flesh, splitting his knuckles open against bone and concrete, trying to lose himself between a woman’s thighs. Yet a bitter taste remained despite all the death, blood, and sex he tried to wash it away with. Something had gotten hold of him, infecting him with a desire his primal urges couldn’t satiate. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t like it, he didn’t want it.

  You don’t know what you want.

  “Not now,” Kai growled under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a searing pain shoot through his skull, the voice invading him.

  You should take her before someone else does. Just don’t tear her throat out like that last one.

  “What ‘last one’?” Kai snarled at the air, his head snapping up towards the trees—but as always, there was nothing there. He knew Abaddon was goading him, trying to make him believe he’d done things he’d never do. But he now knew for sure, thanks to Miya, that he hadn’t hurt any of those girls. His mind couldn’t remember, but his body did; he’d followed the smell of their fear, driven by a peculiar impulse to ward off whatever was harming them.

  Only he never made it on time. Thanks to Abaddon, he was always too late. It was a curse.

  You know the lamb is next.

  The pain grew more intense, his face twisting as a dizzying, high pitched squeal pierced his eardrums, vertigo and nausea rocking his insides. Kai crumpled and tucked his head between his knees, clenching his teeth and refusing to give his nemesis the satisfaction of even a whimper.

  He’d hoped for a quiet day in the woods near his cabin—maybe a run if he wound up on all fours. But the migraine was crippling, and he almost wished he could sink into the autumn leaves and disappear into the ground where it was dark and cold.

  Kai rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky, flopping an arm over his stomach. Closing his eyes, he waited for the spinning to stop, the dark energy gradually bleeding out of him and into the earth. When he felt stable, he dragged himself to his feet and headed towards town. Kai knew exactly what he was looking for, and his instincts were good enough to lead him there. As he approached the forest’s edge, he slowed his pace, prowling the periphery and moving towards the distinct sound of squeaking metal—the swing set at Old Market Playground.

  There she was, brooding as usual.

  He knew she’d be there, but he didn’t want to know why he knew. He ju
st did, and that was enough. He watched from the shelter of the trees, unable to stop himself from smiling in private amusement as she fiddled with the zipper of her hoodie, then sighed longingly. Poor thing was waiting for him.

  And like a good puppy, you came running home.

  Abaddon was there to piss on the moment. Of course, his antagonist had a point: why was he mocking the girl when he’d sniffed her out like a bloodhound? Kai faltered, wondering if he should retreat in case his nemesis was planning some satanic ritual that would coerce him into murdering a chipmunk in front of his sulking pet girl. He imagined that wouldn’t go over too well. But the sinister presence seemed unusually subdued—more irritating than dangerous. Did the lamb do something to declaw the phantom dick? Was she making him bashful?

  Before he could change his mind, Kai stalked out of the woods. Predictably, the girl’s head shot up as he kicked past the shrubbery. She jumped out of the swing, her arms pressed rigidly to her sides as she took a cautious step forward. He ignored the stupefied look on her face—the big, googly eyes and fly-trap mouth. Marching right up to her, he grabbed the zipper on her hoodie and yanked it up to her chin—annoyed by its buzz-ipping. He could feel the blood rushing to her face and made eye contact for the first time as he glanced up to check how pink her cheeks were.

  Neither of them seemed able to speak—her expression unreadable as he stared back at her with a tepid frown.

  “Huh, you’re ovulating.”

  Feeling a current of air rush towards his face, Kai stepped back as she swatted at him. He reached forward and whipped the hood up over her head, fighting the smile that threatened to break out on his face.

  “Jesus Christ, why would you say that!”

  “Because I can smell it.” He grinned rakishly. “Guess I can understand why you’re back.” His mood was improving now that he had an outlet for his frustrations.

  “Right.” She blasted him with a glare as she peeled the hood back. “Because I need to hang around the playground to think of all the bad, bad things I could do to you.” She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “You could have just said hello!”

  “Hello,” he echoed blithely, his lips twisting into a smirk as she cast her eyes to the ground and squirmed under his gaze. “Aw, come on Lambchop, I’m sure you’ve already done plenty to me in that twisted little head of yours,” he cracked, watching as she wrapped her arms tightly around her abdomen. He removed his ratty old leather jacket and tossed it to her.

  Her arms flailed awkwardly as she struggled to catch his coat, staring at it like he’d just lobbed her a new-born. There would be no future for her in softball, at least.

  “You’re letting me wear it?” She looked up at him, perplexed like it’d never occurred to her that he was capable of being thoughtful.

  Damn, Kai thought. She really must have taken him for a piece of shit. “You look cold,” he told her with a shrug. His core body temperature was higher, and his metabolism more efficient at keeping him warm. Cargo pants and a sweater worked just fine. He watched as she silently put his jacket on, zipping it all the way up and throwing on the hood.

  “How do I look?” she asked, the sleeves flopping past her fingertips, her face hidden as she lowered her head and stared at the ground.

  “Like an armless mugger,” he replied, strolling up to her and flicking the hood off. He searched her face for signs of discomfort. “Warm enough?”

  She nodded, lightly patting him on the arm. “Thanks.”

  Something about her made him feel more comfortable in his own skin, which often felt foreign even to him. She seemed to swing between mousy introversion and full-blown aggression, but he kind of liked the latter. Now that she was in front of him and they were alone, he took his time drinking her in—the dark circles under her eyes, presumably from lack of sleep; the delicate lines of her face laid bare without a hint of powdery cosmetics to cover the inconsistencies. The fidgeting and flighty glances when she caught him staring too long—as if she was the one who had something to be embarrassed about. The duality of her insecurity and boldness was curious. At one moment she’d recoil when he loomed over her, and the next she’d burrow in his clothes and greet him with her fists. Was she really a lamb, or a timid lioness?

  Kai realized he was attracted to her. He wouldn’t have spent so much time picking her apart otherwise.

  As he inspected her, she grew edgy under his gaze, her brows creasing as she shuffled on her feet. He could taste the snarky remark about to spring from her lips when he heard a rustle coming from the woods. Kai directed his attention to the space behind her, waiting for one—no, two—figures to emerge.

  It wasn’t until an old man and his fat beagle came stumbling out onto the grass that his Lambchop noticed they weren’t alone. She spun around to face the unwelcome duo. The floppy-eared mutt was on high alert, his stubby little legs twitching with anticipation while he held his head high, nose wriggling. The dumb thing was confounded by Kai; he smelled like a wolf but looked like a man. Whining in confusion, the genetically-befouled fleabag pawed nervously at the ground.

  “Come on,” Kai mumbled, grabbing the girl’s hand and leading her straight into the woods.

  “Where are we going?” She squeezed his hand, but he couldn’t tell if it was resistance or reassurance.

  “Away,” he said simply, pulling her into the trees before the canine sausage began barking at him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her glance back towards the playground and stopped. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  Her lips pressed together as if to stop the uncomfortable truth from worming out. Eventually, it did. “I don’t want to end up as one of those dead girls you wake up to. I know you didn’t do it, but—”

  “I’m a shit magnet.” Kai’s lips quirked. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  “Thanks,” she offered a ghost of a smile, “but I don’t feel safe at home either.”

  Kai adjusted his fingers around her clammy palms. “Why not?”

  She took a deep breath and held it until it seemed to hurt. “It’s complicated. Where were you going to take me?”

  Kai permitted the evasion, for now. “Where I live.”

  “Does this mean we’re friends?”

  He blinked at her before glowering at their joined hands, then let go like he was dropping a thorny rose. “Only if you don’t talk about it.”

  Her expression shifted to one of amusement as she waited for him to continue. When he didn’t move, she offered him a balmy smile. “I think I can keep a secret. And I am curious about where you live.”

  Was she now? He narrowed his eyes, caught between grabbing her hand and chasing her off. “Feel free to tag along then.”

  “Ok,” she chirped without hesitation, content to follow him into the man-eating labyrinth of trees and wilderness.

  He faltered—about to bark at her for taking candy from strangers in windowless vans—until something warm, fluffy, and soft like chubby hamsters steamrolled over his senses, and he realized he wanted her to come back with him.

  He dug one heel into the ground while his other foot prepared for flight—a confusing sensation. He should have told her to get lost. But she had his jacket. He couldn’t let her go with his jacket. But he’d given it to her barely five minutes ago. How could he ask for it back so soon? It was a predicament he couldn’t escape—unless he wanted to act crazy and scare her off for good.

  While his mind reeled in ways too human for his liking, the lines on her face creased with concern. “What did you mean when you said you could smell them calling for help?”

  Kai’s face twisted as he tried to remember. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Did you hear them screaming?”

  “It’s not like that. I’m just...pulled. An instinct, I guess.” He turned and stalked off before he had to relive it again. Of course, the damn sheep followed, but she didn’t press him further.

  He didn’t dare look back for the rest of the journey,
though he could hear her footsteps—uneven and clumsy—struggling to keep up. Every so often he would slow his pace, giving her a chance to catch her breath and regain her footing.

  When they were close to the cabin, he circled the perimeter—a precautionary measure in case he had unwanted company. Finding nothing suspicious, he led her to the front, opened the door without a key, and helped himself inside. It was about as messy as usual—clothes scattered about the chairs, his towel on the floor by the table, and several blankets scrunched up on one end of the futon. As he dropped his hunting knife on the table, he looked back to find the girl still standing in the doorway, scanning the room like she was staring into another dimension.

  “Relax, the roof isn’t going to cave in,” he reassured her.

  “I would hope not,” she murmured as she ventured inside, then looked down at her shoes. “Should I take these off?”

  Kai cast her a dubious glance. “Does it look like you need to take them off?”

  “It looks like I need to keep them on.”

  “I agree.”

  “So, you’re a squatter,” she pointed out after a pause, keeping herself glued to the walls as she wandered in. She creaked through the rooms with measured steps, like a cat inspecting new territory.

  “Is that blood?” her voice echoed from the bathroom with a hint of alarm.

  Kai couldn’t help but smile. “Probably.”

  She poked her head out from the door, blinking at him with a disapproving frown. “Whose blood?”

  He shrugged in response. “Recently, mine. Probably some animal blood too. Anything that looks like pancake syrup is from the drunk I picked a fight with last week.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him and disappeared back inside. “Your bathroom looks like a kill room. Is Pancake Syrup still alive?”