by S.M. Winter
stood unarmed and I now had a prevailing sense of foreboding. Alexandar smiled at me reassuringly and I took his hand. I had just begun to experience the feelings that he could evoke, I couldn’t bear to lose him now. Was this love? There was a shooting pain in my chest at the thought that he may not come home with me.
“I don’t want you to come,” I told him, firming my lower lip to stop it from trembling.
“Why is that?” He seemed to be holding back a smile.
“This is serious,” I told him.
“Of course it is,” he cleared his throat and schooled his face into harsh lines.
“That’s not funny,” I told him and his frown tilted up fractionally.
“I’m going,” he shrugged. “Did you forget who taught you to fight?”
“Of course not,” I told him.
“Well I guess it’s settled then,” he laughed. “You’re staying behind. I don’t think you’re ready.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” my brow furrowed at his logic. “I have to be there to rescue them.”
“Everyone’s going,” Chauncy cut in. “We take risks every day but we fight as a team. Get used to it.”
The weight of the sword on my hip felt unfamiliar. I felt ridiculous. I should have at least practiced with the sword before taking it into battle. I chuckled, the thought of me going into battle was absolutely ridiculous. I suppose that the thought of a nineteen-year-old Doctorate was likely just as ridiculous to some people, though.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“We are going to split up into two groups,” Chauncy said. “There are four of them and they usually work separately, so it’s possible we will only be fighting one.”
“Possible,” I said. “But not probable.”
“Correct,” Chauncy said. “Which is why we will assume they will all be there. We will get close and let Alexandar search the grounds.”
“As in search through his element?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“That’s the plan?” I waited for more.
“Well we can’t really make a plan until we know what’s waiting for us,” Chauncy seemed annoyed at my criticism.
“I have an idea,” I grinned as a thought occurred to me. “Follow me.”
I lead them to the key portal. Inserting our keys we went through my closet doorway. It seemed like a lifetime ago when we last used the portal to enter my townhouse. The place was still a mess, but was now covered in a layer of dust. I walked over to my trusty desk and found my computer, smashed. The wind went out of my sails until I remembered my tablet.
Downstairs was no better. The fridge door hung off its hinges and it seemed that the electricity had been turned off, as no one was here to pay it. I wondered what my coworkers thought about what had happened to me. They probably just assumed I’d gone off the deep end because I was so young. And to be fair, for a while, I thought I had. So why would I be surprised if that’s what they thought too?
The living room was as much of a mess as everywhere else. I found my wayward tablet behind a tipped over armoire and powered it up, thanking all that was Holy that it still had some juice left.
“Ok,” I tapped a few buttons on the touchscreen and brought up Google Earth.
I entered in the coordinates and found what looked like an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a small town. Looking at our battleground like this made the thought of what we had to do even more unrealistic. The weight of what we were risking had me wavering on whether we should even help my adoptive parents. My mother had never approved of me, and as nice of a parting letter that my adoptive father had given me I wasn’t sure it really made up for the way I’d been treated. But there was a voice in the back of my head asking if I would be able to live with myself if they were killed. Would I? No. I would always choose life over the casual dismissal of anyone’s existence.
I looked back at the picture of the warehouse. Tire tracks went in and out through the fence that seemed to surround it at only one point. It reminded me of the war games I used to play on the computer. I sat forward and ignored the low battery warning that popped up. A plan began to form in my mind as Looking at the entrances and exits. I looked at the three people surrounding me, I grinned. “Alright, here’s the plan.”
Once everything had been laid out for the group, there had been some initial arguments mostly from Alexandar. The loudest however came from a surprising place, Chauncy.
“You need to be sure,” he said. “A lot can go wrong. What happens if you can’t find your parents? What happens if you’re attacked?”
“I think I have an idea,” Valerie responded. “First, we need to have faith in each other. Second, I found something in the books that might help with at least one of the ‘what ifs’.”
The practical applications for strategy are not your forte, a nasty little voice whispered inside my head.
I’ve taken classes in philosophy, psychology, geology, geography and anthropology. None of those studies could translate appropriately to help me achieve my goal. As I approached the outskirts of the abandoned warehouse it now seemed glaringly obvious that I was the wrong person for the job. What had I been thinking? The sword banged against my hip with every step, reminding me why I was there, and why I was alone.
My friends. It was still a hard word for me to comprehend. The words felt awkward on my tongue and in my mind. My friends had not been receptive to my plan but none were able to offer a better strategy. Alexandar had looked at me with horror and frustration, demanding that he take my place. I’d explained to him multiple times why it had to be me. Finally, after Chauncy had placed a hand on his shoulder, he subsided into muted mumblings. Valerie’s faith in me and her contingency strategy had been genius. Occasionally, as we’d prepared for what was to come, I would catch a glimmer of his silent anger. He was mumbling in his native tongue so I was unable to translate, but the tenor was clear. He was furious. I made a mental note to learn Gaelic if I returned from this battle.
The ‘spell’, as Valerie called it, was above and beyond anything I’d learned yet. It was old magyk, she’d told me. Something they still didn’t know enough about. It seemed to be a powerful weapon, so I knew next where I would be focusing my studies. It had been a challenge, but a challenge I had been able to meet. Chauncy had been impressed and I’d glowed under his praise. I hoped everything would go as we’d planned, but if it didn’t we were prepared.
The chain link fence looked like it was sagging in defeat as I approached and I prayed to whoever would listen that it wasn’t an omen. A crack of thunder off in the distance had the hair on my arms standing straight up. Something felt off but I couldn’t discern the cause. I knew I was walking into a trap. There was a possibility that my own self-preservation instincts were kicking in, but I knew what I needed to do. Taking a deep breath, I stepped across the point of no return and entered the abandoned compound. My heart beat hard against my ribs making it hard to hear anything else. I stopped in my tracks as it dawned on me. There was no sound.
Not one sound since I entered the compound. I no longer even heard the storm as it raced across the valley. I could see the light flash across the sky, silhouetting the surrounding hills. The area was shrouded within an eerie and unnatural silence that seemed to permeate the air. The smell of ozone was fierce and burned my nose and throat. I trudged on toward my target and stood before a large sliding door. The enormity of the building seemed like it may have been an aircraft hangar in the not so distant past. The door was gaping open and unsecured.
“Moira!” I grabbed the hilt of my sword. “Face me!”
I stood there for a moment and waited. Nothing.
“Hello?” I called into the cavernous dark.
A giggle came from behind me and I whirled. My hand convulsed around the sword. A doppelganger stood where I had expected Moira. Its face split in a nausea inducing grin that almost toppled its head off its shoulders. The grayish, blotchy skin shone like wet rubber in t
he dying light. A flash lit the sky and echoed off the dark marbles that must have been its eyes. They sat deep within its face, sunken and hollow.
“Decided not to wear my dead family anymore?” I asked the thing that stood before me. “Where’s Moira?”
“You could say she’s putting her face on,” it giggled again and sent shivers up my spine.
The giggle was completely out of place and it made my stomach turn. It was the sound of a young child, truly amused.
I heard a low female chuckle and my blood ran cold. I turned around slowly to face Moira and the possibility of my doom. Plastering a mean smile on my face I breathed deep.
“Your brother says hey,” I mimicked the way girls had spoken to me in high school. With a careless toss of my hair I looked at my nails. This was a role I had never thought to play. I tried for nonchalance as I turned to make sure the Doppelganger wasn’t taking advantage of the fact I’d shown in my back.
“He does, does he?” Moira seemed to struggle with her facial features.
“Yeah,” I laughed without feeling. “He’s hopelessly in love with me.”
Did it seem like her face was melting? It was uncomfortable to watch without staring, so I pretended not to care. Which wasn’t hard since the Doppelganger was circling like a shark. Its movements were awkward and I could hear the snapping of its tendons with every step.
“Why are you telling me this?” Her teeth seemed to