Chapter 18

Read from the start here: Chapter One

Cam sat hunched over on a chair in the Den's only closed off room, an office that once belonged to Linden, dreading the inevitable moment that somebody would knock on the door. As he rested there, his elbows propping him upright and his face buried into his palms, he couldn't stop pondering over the day's events, and the weeks of work that had led to it. Dane had ruined his life and it started way, way back, before Cam had even met the man.

At fifteen years old, Cam had already lived in eleven different cities across Natalos, thanks to his mothers successful career as an artist. Short but boisterous, she was a tough woman who very few answered back to, and giving birth to two boys couldn't stop her from making it big in the world of paint and sculpture. The family ventured frequently from city to city, continent to continent and planet to planet before finally settling down on Gaia, in the city of Calcon, just a few days before Cam's sixteenth birthday.

School had always been a struggle for him and Cam blamed it on this nomadic lifestyle. For most of his early teenage years he lacked an ability to make friends and achieved underwhelming exam results, but deep down even Cam knew this was just an excuse. The true crux of the problem was his status as a Nomag. While a lot of his peers had been gifted with the ability to manipulate the energy around them, Cam had not and while these mutated people were now the norm, it was Cam and his ilk that were dragged down and treated like second class citizens. It was impossible to hide too, no matter how much Cam tried and every time his schoolmates inevitably found out, life in general became hell. He abandoned school upon arrival in Calcon and didn't look back.

Cam spent the next few months trying to get a legitimate job. His parents were not supportive of his leaving academia, and so they thought it best to kick him out, only helping him by giving him a small sum of money to pay rent on a small apartment in East Calcon, the cheapest quadrant of the city. Initially he tried his luck as a street vendor but he was never able to build up any rapport with the consumers who browsed his wares and this short stint only managed to get him into debt. Fortunately, one of his customers who pitied him managed to get him a job as an office assistant. This new role didn't satisfy him, and he stuck with it only long enough to pay off his debt, mostly because the creditors who were after him legitimately scared him. Once he was clear of them and in the black once more, Cam quit the job and spent the next two months struggling to find another.

One winter morning, cowering beneath his quilt, Cam decided he'd had enough. The bitter chill that came from not being able to pay a heating bill tempted him to crawl back to his parents, to grovel for forgiveness and get a warm room and a hot meal once again, but his stubbornness wouldn't let him. There had to be another way...

At first it was a couple of everyday essentials from the local supermarket, taken while shopping for legitimate purchases, but soon it was personal items snatched from people at bars while they were drunk, and eventually it turned into stealing cold hard cash wherever he could get away with it. He mastered the art of pickpocketing in a few weeks, and the busy squares and crowded clubs he frequented were his new office space. The truth was, nothing else had provided him with the satisfaction that this new activity did, and he realised that this path was meant for him, not only because it finally gave him a steady albeit risky income, but he was incredibly good at it.

Linden's first appearance came pretty soon after this new alteration in his life. Cam was out doing one of his pickpocket runs across the busy marketplace areas in South Calcon when he found his hand snatched mid steal by an older man. This wasn't a first for Cam; he'd been caught out before, but usually his alertness and preparedness allowed him to run before they even got a good look at him. A couple of times somebody had grabbed him, but Cam was a wily, slip of a boy and could wriggle out of the grip, or thrash around until he found an opening that let him escape.

Upon being grabbed, Cam whipped his head round to face his detainer and immediately tried the usual manoeuvres. This time though, the strangers grip was too strong. The older man had a surprising vigour about him. Instead of calling for the authorities though who were never far away during these events, Linden dragged him somewhat easily to a quieter area, away from the crowds. Once they had a bit of space, he looked Cam dead in the eyes and asked him a question, as calmly as a windless sky.

“Why did you choose to steal from me?”

“My family is starving.”

Linden paused, furrowing his brow and squinting his eyes, looking deeper into Cam's, making him feel uncomfortable.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I'm not!”

“Your family is fine. You don't live with them any more do you?”

“What?” Cam replied, a little stunned at the old man's intuition. “Who the hell are you?”

“I know people like you. You're a Nomag.”

Cam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, so what?” His tone was sulky and more childish than his age would imply. “Why do people like you always have to point that out! Why don't you just leave us alone so we can carry on with our miserable lives?”

Cam tried to tug his arm free but Linden refused to let go, instead clamping down harder. Cam felt genuine pain.

“Ow, let go of me!”

“You seem too troubled.”

“For what? I haven't done anything!”

“Hmm.” Linden gazed away in thought, just for a moment, but Cam was curious.

“What?!”

“We have a place for people like you. Nomags. Somewhere safe, but..”

“What place?” Cam's curiosity was peaked. Linden let go just a little and Cam savoured the slight release. He'd always wondered about the existence of a community for Nomags, though he'd never heard of one. “You're making it up.”

“I can hardly prove it to you while I'm standing here, but I guarantee it's real.” Linden's disapproving gaze lingered on Cam, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. “The thing is, I'm not sure I should bring you there. You've already shown me you're a liar and a thief. It'd be like bringing manure to my home and trying to stop flies from following it there.”

Linden let Cam go, and with a sense of relief he immediately shrugged back a few metres, still facing the older guy. If this place was real, surely that would be good for him; to feel equality at last amongst people who suffered the same affliciton instead of being 'a scourge on society', though it could equally just be some sort of trap.

“If this place is real, what's it called?”

“It has no name.”

Cam debated this for a moment, curious as to how likely that such a group wouldn't have a name. It seemed unofficial, but maybe that was good. Why would targeted people want a bigger bullseye on their backs?

“Let's say it's real then.” Cam watched the old man's face for something, though not really sure of what that thing was. “If that's the case, I don't really think you'd turn me away otherwise you wouldn't have even mentioned it to me. So the real question is this; do I trust you?”

The man didn't respond. He simply looked very sternly at Cam, who now carefully considered him. He wasn't that old, Cam guessed maybe fifty five to sixty years of age, and he had hard lines all over his face, possible evidence of a difficult life of labour. That would certainly be true if he was a not a magical energy user...

“Are you a Nomag too?” Cam queried.

Linden replied with a single nod.

“Then take me there and I'll see it for myself. But you have to keep at least ten metres in front of me the whole way. I don't want to be ambushed.”

* * *

Two days later, Cam met Dane for the very first time. Far from being a disaster, the first contact between them was amicable. In fact, Cam remembered thinking that the two might become friends from it. Dane's attitude struck him as quite unique; the guy just didn't seem to get bothered by anything and this intrigued Cam's younger mind. It led to him trying to spend a lot of time in his presence, but the kinship wasn't to be.

So it was that many years later when Linden announced he was to step down and wished for someone to take over his position, Cam eagerly submitted his nomination, but it was others who suggested Dane do the same. If it hadn't been for them, Cam wouldn't have had to go through all of this trouble.

Thus, when it came to Dane's absence this morning, Cam decided that his next course of action would be to not act at all. He knew he'd be blamed for what happened, but as long as he kept to his plan and didn't waste time pretending he knew nothing, then the group wouldn't have time to stop him before it was too late.

Puncturing his thoughts suddenly was a loud thumping that came from the other side of the office door. Cam shrunk back in his chair and wondered if he should ignore it. The thumping returned, three solid bangs of fist against metal, and he thought it might have been Radar's work. He pictured the larger man and suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

Knowing he couldn't hide in here forever, Cam took a stammered breath to psyche himself up and walked towards the door, reaching it just as another set of thuds echoed inside the tiny room.

“Patience!” He yelled, masking his feelings with a fake outraged tone. Cam slid the bolt towards the door and pulled the whole thing open.

Stood there just outside his office, facing him with looks of contempt and viciousness, were several of the Den's members. Radar was indeed at the head of the pack, but beside him were Twitch, Hammer, Alexander, Fenwick and several others who had clearly been swept up into this without particularly wanting to. Radar immediately broke the silence.

“We wan' a word with you.”

“Well, as you can see I'm rather busy right now...” Cam replied, sweeping his arm towards his empty office. The sarcasm flew right over Radar's head.

“We know it was you.” Radar stormed past Cam and took position in the middle of the room, crossing his arms. “Dane's never come back late before and we know he's not the type to get himself caught. Besides, you were seen leavin' the Den this mornin' about an hour before Dane's supposed job took place.”

'Damn those observant bastards.' He muttered internally. Not that being seen leaving was a total surprise to him, nor did it really matter in the end, but in these lesser intelligent specimens minds that would definitely be enough evidence to fully suspect Cam was at fault, so his selling of his innocence would be a lot more difficult.

“Now hold on. Are you accusing me of having something to do with Dane's disappearance?” Cam said, knowing that even though they couldn't be persuaded of their judgement, that he had to stall for time.

“Don't play games Cameron, you had nothin' scheduled today. We checked. So there was no reason for you to be outside this mornin'.” Radar took a menacing step towards Cam. “Now, are we supposed to believe that it is a coincidence that you were out the very same time that Dane vanishes?”

“Well that would be my defence yes, it was a complete coincidence. Not an unhappy one, for you all know my feelings towards our 'leader', but it is in fact a genuine lining up of events that are completely separate from one another.”

Radar smirked.

“Is that all you've got to say?”

“Well you did only ask me the one question.”

The smirk vanished.

“What did you do to him?”

“I'm afraid I did nothing of the sort you're thinking of. Now, I don't need to remind you of the rules, but I'm the guy in charge of this place until Dane returns, so unless you have some proof of this wild accusation...” Cam slowed down, putting on a display of confusion. “Actually, what exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Gettin' Dane arrested or killed.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Cam rubbed his chin in a mocking manner. “Well, unless you have proof of this conspiracy other than somebody seeing me walk through a door, I'm afraid we have nothing more to say, for the rules-”

“F**k the rules! You're not in charge of anythin' here any more. We're officially mutinyin'.”

“Are we suddenly on board a pirate ship?”

“Be a smart arse all you want. Whatever it's called, we're removin' you from office.” A sinister smile followed.

All of a sudden, the group was distracted by a knock on the door. Not the one attached to the office though, but the one at the entrance to the Den itself.

“Oh, that might be Dane now. Why don't we go and see for ourselves? Then perhaps you can apologise for your mistaken accusations and perhaps we can all get along once again.”

Cam pushed through the group, making sure he was at the front of the pack who immediately started following him towards the front door. He began to sweat, hoping and praying that the person at the door was who he thought it was.

As he reached it, he took hold of the handle and tugged at it with force, due to the doors thickness and heavy weight. Behind it, a rather timid looking man wearing a wax jacket and with at least a weeks worth of scruffy stubble on his gaunt face. He also wore glasses which he held with one hand while the other rested in his pocket. The stranger seemed surprised to see so many faces observing him at once, and his eyes widened. It was clear that of these many faces, only one recognised him.

“Ah, there you are.” Cam spoke with glee, as he ushered the nervous man inside while turning to face the confused audience “I've been waiting for you. Gentlemen of the Den, this is my friend Connor. He's one of those Magi we keep ourselves distant from. Now Radar, what about this 'mutiny' you were talking about?”

Chapter 17

Read from the start here: Chapter One

There was no denying that today had already been a difficult day full of surprises, but he didn’t expect to find himself so soon facing yet another situation which threatened to blow up in his face, metaphorically speaking of course. The latest bewilderment came at the return of someone important to him.

Since he’d laid eyes upon her just a few minutes ago, Fredo knew she was not the same woman that had left this morning. The problem was though, he hadn’t realised it straight away, and he felt like kicking himself for it. In fact, if it wasn’t for their relationship being a complete and utter secret, he probably would have gone in for the kiss right there and then. The woman looked identical to Susan. It wasn’t just a passing resemblance either, he was sure even her own mother would have been fooled to begin with too, of this he was sure.

Now though, sitting across the desk from her in Susan’s office, with the only sound coming from the steady hum of the conditioned air being pumped into the underground room, he inconspicuously studied this stranger while she settled in to the desk chair that only an hour ago had been filled by his girlfriend. He'd decided he would think of her as 'faux Susan', at least until he discovered her real name.

After the initial surprise of seeing her by the elevator, he immediately and compassionately queried her recent whereabouts. This was followed by an odd, stilted conversation as faux Susan tried to play along, though it was immediately clear that whoever they were they had no clue about The Trust. Instead, she believed she was at some company called Hermato Engineering, and Fredo made a mental note to look up this company later on. As a result of the deceit being attempted here, he hadn’t been sure whether to call for security and have her arrested, or to play dumb and try to investigate this situation himself first. He chose to proceed with the latter. For now.

During the conversation, thoughts flooded back into his mind from many years ago. He’d heard many tales, as every child had, of mysterious beings known as chameleons. It was explained that these were essentially Magii with the ability to harness magical energy to alter their appearance, down to the most minor details, to become other people at their whim. But, like all whispered stories spread on the playground, this was all speculation and imagination taking flight between excitable youngsters.

Fredo though was an investigative soul by nature, and in his teen years he had done his own research into this phenomenon. Dreams of being able to turn this power from a dream into something real was the ultimate fantasy for him, and even the slightest possibility was enough to excite him. However, nothing other than a few peculiar crimes, all seemingly impossible without an accomplice with such power, could offer any viable evidence of their existence, and so his hope faded away into nothing. And yet, seeing this faux Susan…

“Well if there’s nothing else, I suppose I’d best be getting on with things.” Faux Susan blurted out, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had slowly brewed in the room. It was peculiar to him that she spoke with such a similar pitch to Susan, but there was a marginally different accent forming the words. If he had to guess, he would have assumed that this Susan lived on the west side of Calcon as opposed to centrally like the real one. Only a subtle change, most probably wouldn’t notice, but having spent years in the real Susan’s presence, he found it rather jarring and as obvious as a big scar across her face.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to help with the rest of these?” Fredo gestured to the pile of reports on the desk. He actually had a list of his own tasks that needed doing and didn’t need extra homework. He was merely offering as a way to keep her cover intact for a little while longer.

“Can I let you know later, Fredo?”

Saying his name unnerved him. He’d offered it to her voluntarily in the natural course of conversation by the elevator, but it still felt wrong somehow.

“Of course.” He replied, smiling.

The faux Susan stared into his eyes, her lips curling into a subtle grin. He suddenly found himself wondering if she felt an attraction to him like the real Susan did. Was she even female?

‘Stop it. Chameleons don’t really exist’ Fredo told himself. The last thing he needed now was to start believing in fairy tales again.

“Well if you need me, just call me over. You know where I am.” On his way out he decided he would make an obvious show of walking to his desk, which was visible from this office, in the hope that she could legitimately beckon him if needed. Though it would probably be best to keep her hidden…

“Thank you.”

“OK then. Guess I’ll catch up with you later.”

Fredo stood up, left the office and closed the door behind him, and like he’d planned, made an exaggerated display of sitting back down at his desk, looking over to the impostor and smiling again. She looked back and offered a smile of her own, but it wasn’t genuine. Even from this distance he could see that.

‘Fuck!’ He exclaimed internally, hidden behind his calm facade. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

Before he’d even had an opportunity to flick his screen on and process his next move, he caught movement in the corner of his eye that worried him. Delilah, her perfectly preened white hair acting like a beacon, had risen from her desk and was moving in the direction of their boss’s office.

Up until now, Fredo was confident that nobody had cottoned on to faux Susan’s existence, as he’d whisked her straight to the office where she currently sat without being stopped by any of his colleagues. But, before he worked out what the hell this spy or infiltrator or chameleon (‘Don’t be stupid’) really wanted, he needed to limit their information flow and Delilah might inadvertently let something important slip if the two started talking.

Fredo leapt up from his chair, but a little too quickly, as a few pairs of eyes from proximate desks distractedly swivelled round towards him. Ignoring them, he straightened his shirt alongside a trademark smirk and strode, this time at a calmer pace, towards Delilah. He successfully intercepted her at a spot about six feet from Susan’s door.

“Dee, can I grab a word with you?” His accompanying smile was awash with anxiety but he didn’t care. He was in panic mode.

Delilah on the other hand did not appear flummoxed. Instead of replying, she only nodded at Fredo, one arm cradling a tablet device, and started walking towards the office kitchen which his arm now gestured towards.

Nobody else was present inside the spacious kitchen area as the two stepped through the doorway. It was still too early for lunch, he supposed.

“We need to talk.” He snapped, losing the smile as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. Delilah suddenly seemed on edge too.

“About what?”

“You know what.”

Her eyes flitted upwards briefly before responding.

“I have no wish to discuss that here-”

“It’s something else.” Fredo looked out of the porthole window nestled into the doors frame and kept his eyes peeled for signs of anyone approaching. Delilah put the tablet onto the counter and crossed her arms defiantly. Her voice lowered to a whisper.

“It’s not safe to talk here.”

“It can’t wait.”

“Is it really so important that you'd risk being discovered?”

Fredo stepped back from the door and faced Delilah directly, gently gripping her by her shoulders and staring intensely into her eyes.

“That doesn't matter any more. I think… I believe whatever he’s planning, it’s going down today.”

Delilah stood back, not from fear but disbelief. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“With all of this going on? Are you insane?”

“Ignoring the fact that this Rogan stuff could be the perfect cover for whatever he’s doing, I feel like… Look, I haven’t put all the pieces together yet, but something about this just feels unsettling.”

Delilah’s eyes softened. She didn’t reply. Fredo continued.

“Why else is all this crazy, unexplained stuff happening at the same time? Doesn't that feel odd to you? That’s why we need to act now.” He said confidently, resuming looking out of the window once again. “I'm going to start letting the others know, but I need a bit of time.”

“You know I trust you. So, if you're sure about this, then let me help.”

“No, I need you to take care of something else. It's equally as important.”

Fredo's eyes looked over at Susan's office. He couldn't see inside from this angle but he knew faux Susan was inside.

“I need you to investigate the woman inside Susan's office.”

“Susan?”

“It's not her.”

“I saw her just now.”

When he turned again to face her, he saw genuine concern on Delilah's face.

“You saw somebody who looks identical to her but they are not the same person we've been working for for years. That's as much as I know, and that's exactly why I need you to investigate her, keep her from causing any trouble for the next few hours. Find out everything you can about who she is and what her motives are. If you find yourself in trouble, bail on the plan and deny all knowledge. If anything happens to me, I need you to carry on in my absence.”

Without even looking back at her, Fredo left the kitchen behind and walked back into the office, where the tart stench of cold coffee overwhelmed him. Had it really been only an hour ago since that happened? It felt like much longer.

Instead of heading back to his desk Fredo walked straight towards the office entrance, doing his best to act casually. As he passed Susan’s office, he caught her imitator looking somewhat daunted at the desk. His suspicions about her suddenly increased, and now he felt a pang of guilt for letting her into the building without even questioning it.

Soon he reached the familiar maze of corridors on the 10th floor and immediately started making his way towards his destination. A mental list of tasks and actions had already formed in his head and he knew he would have very little time to manoeuvre once he began them. So it was that by the time he saw the door he wanted in front of him, he'd already felt like he'd wasted too much of it. Something about the place was different though.

“Hello.” Came a voice from behind him.

Fredo spun around, trying to see who had surprised him. They'd either been incredibly clever or he had not been paying enough attention on his way here, and he kicked himself admitting it was almost certainly the latter.

“Sir?” The words spilled out upon seeing his follower, along with the two heavily built figures stood behind him.

“I think we need to talk.” The deep voice was deadly calm but equally chilling. “I think in here will do.”

The two large men, dressed in dark suits, flanked him on both sides, giving him nowhere to escape. His plan was foiled before it'd even begun. They roughly seized him by the arms and dragged him into the room he was about to enter anyway, shortly followed by Dougal Crutch. The door shut behind them all and Fredo's heart sank, knowing that for him it was certainly all over.

Chapter 16

Read from the start here: Chapter One

The pain seeped into her dreams.

At one point she was trying to outrun somebody or something, but her feet were sluggish and unresponsive. The unknown pursuer was quickly making up the distance between them. However, a stab of pain in her sinuses, like a headache but a hundred times worse, started to take over her subconscious thought until she was no longer visualising anything except a large ball of pure white hot energy which seemed to burn her. It was this that caused her to slip back into the physical realm with a jolt.

Susan had rolled off the surface she was laying on and landed on the floor face first, causing her to hit her forehead on the solid ground. Forcing herself to turn to her side so she could attend to it, she suddenly realised that she felt different. Opening her eyes, it suddenly made sense. Instead of the difficult conditions of the outside, she was now inside a room, barely furnished and rather primitive. Her suit had been removed and she had been dressed in some kind of overalls.

“What the hell?” She couldn’t help blurt out upon taking all of it in.

She sat up, briefly surprised again at the pain she discovered behind her eyes, before observing her new surroundings properly. Three walls were simply bare stone with no windows, but the fourth had a door with a small hatch towards the top. She had been lying on the only piece of furniture in the room, a rickety metal-framed bed with a large panel of wood serving as the mattress. Behind it she saw a bucket, her mind repulsed by what she was probably expected to do with it.

Her last real memory, the jump, had been a suicide attempt. She certainly didn’t expect to survive, and considering the height of the drop she’d taken, her condition was remarkably substantial. She ran her arms all over various parts of her body to check for injuries, or perhaps treatment, but found nothing immediately obvious except the stabbing shoots of the migraine or whatever it was.

Carefully she stood up, worried in case she had feeble bones or tore something, but once on her feet she realised she was fine apart from a sore back, likely caused by the most uncomfortable bed she’d ever seen. Susan calmly walked over to the door. There was no handle on this side, but she tried poking the latch. It didn’t budge. Susan sighed.

What was going on? Somehow she’d escaped certain death and now was imprisoned in a completely mystery location.

Maybe this was all a test, that was her first thought. Crutch could have given her this task to test her loyalty to the mission, to The Trust, and everything since the Sending had been a simulation. Unlikely, but not impossible. She’d been inside a suit the entire time, and it could have been programmed with some sort of ultra realistic simulation in which she saw everything as completely real. That could even mean that Selena was still all right and Rashad wasn’t really a traitor…

There was no way that was true though. If it had been, she wouldn’t currently be in a prison cell, she would instead have woken up in a hospital, a scientific lab or something like that. Besides, she knew that everything she had been through was as real as the cold stone floor she stood upon barefoot. There was no technology in the world that was that powerful, and she would know if there was thanks to her position.

The other possibility was that she had misremembered exactly what happened when she arrived in Kadira. Her brain was clearly distressed as she’d never experienced such a bad headache before, but she still felt that she could trust her own memory.

And so the only other likely possibility was that she had genuinely made the leap off the cliff edge, as she was sure she did, and something or maybe just complete luck had spared her from serious harm. Somebody had found her when she was out cold, probably one of Rogan’s men, and imprisoned her. It didn’t feel warm enough in here to be in the base she was supposed to infiltrate, but as she had been briefed before the mission, there was very limited intelligence for inside the building and so she had no way of telling.

Somewhere, a distinct sound of footsteps could be heard clicking on the concrete-like floor outside her room, and getting closer. Susan backed away from the door, not knowing what to do. If they came in, how would, or rather should, she approach the situation? Her training was difficult to recall as it was many years ago and she was not a field agent, and the pain caused chaos in her head, making it difficult to focus.

The footsteps grew louder and stopped, just as she hoped they wouldn’t, just outside her door. The latch was unbolted, and a pair of eyes appeared on the other side. They were blue, but belonged to an older man, somebody she didn’t recognise.

“Prisoner is awake.” Came the voice. “Seems stable. Alert number one.”

Susan stared at the eyes and they stared back. For a good few seconds of silence, neither of them diverted their gaze.

“Are you hungry?” Asked Blue Eyes.

Susan wasn’t sure if this was genuine concern by the man or an exploratory question, but she did feel like she hadn’t eaten for weeks. A gentle nod was all she offered him in response.

“Then a meal will be provided.” Blue Eyes then waved his arm to a man next to him, or at least that seemed to be what happened as she couldn’t see his body, only his face. Then footsteps made off in the same direction.

“If you’re thirsty, there is water in that bucket.”

Susan felt somewhat relieved.

Blue Eyes looked down for a second and seemed to sigh a little. Suddenly, before she had a chance to think about this, the footsteps could be heard coming back and shortly afterwards Blue Eyes left his hatch, and in his place suddenly appeared a loaf of bread and a bowl of broth. Susan didn’t take any steps to get them though.

“I understand it’s normal to be sceptical in this situation, of accepting food from a stranger, but rest assured if there was any danger of us trying to harm you, we’d have done it by now.”

There was no way she was going to eat that stuff she decided, especially not in front of this stranger. She wasn’t some performing creature at a circus.

“Fine, we’ll leave” Said Blue Eyes as if reading her thoughts. “But I’m not leaving you in your room with the hatch open.”

She sensed interestingly how he chose not to use the word prison or cell.

“Have it your way.”

The hatch instantly lifted shut with a slam, which sent the bowl of broth crashing to the floor, smashing the ceramic into a hundred pieces or more and hurling splotches of the clear liquid all around the room.

Susan sighed and dropped to the floor, her back and head both giving her cause for concern, and trying to plan her next move or how to get herself out of this ‘room’.

She had nothing.

Inter 1

The glass clinked gently against the ketchup bottle as the waitress scooped it up from the table, only a couple of ice cubes remained inside it now and they rattled around like a couple of dice.

Leon offered her a polite ‘thank you’ nod. After she left, the tall, sombre man resumed looking at his son as the youngster pawed over the half eaten burger on the plate in front of him. He rested his chin on his closed fist and quietly sighed.

“Come on Joey, please finish up.” He asked sympathetically.

The boy, thirteen years old with a scruff of thick black hair just like his Dad, had his eyes cast downwards at the plate with a half hearted tedium, and scraped the plate with the fork as he ignored his father’s command. He swirled the pool of ketchup around and traced out a long red line along the edge of the plate.

“I don’t need your mother thinking I don’t feed you properly.” The words came out as if he’d already admitted defeat. “And that was the most expensive thing on the menu.”

Leon picked up the mug of coffee, which had lost enough heat by now to make it barely drinkable, and held it in front of him. He would have to drop Joey off in an hour and so far this had not been the bonding experience he wanted. He’d been given two days to try and repair something that had been broken for far too long, something of a gift from his ex, but the whole time Joey had been in a bad mood. Maybe it was unrelated, but it still hurt given how hopeful he’d been about it. They were blood and Leon had been putting a lot of effort into their relationship for the last 48 hours to absolutely no avail.

Just as he brought the coffee to his lips, he was disturbed by something in the cup. Not a piece of food or foreign object floating on its surface, but a number of ripples, as if it had been disturbed. Leon looked up and around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him nor could he feel anything under his feet. Everyone else also seemed oblivious. Leon looked into the cup again, and there they were, small, unexplained waves moving across the dark liquid.

From somewhere in the back of the restaurant, a plate could be heard smashing. Leon was the first to snap his head quickly towards the source of the noise. His eyes were wide, alert, and a small amount of apprehension was visible in the contort of his face.

Now Joey looked up too, first with a childish smirk but then, after a couple more plates smashed, a confused look. There was clearly something happening behind the swinging door leading to the kitchen and Leon both wanted and didn’t want to find out what.

He stood up, the other dozen or so customers immediately looking in his direction, expecting him to be the hero he supposed. It might have happened, he might have gone to the back room to find out what was going on, but the next sound that came from the back now though wasn’t a smash; it was a yell. And then a scream.

The colour sunk out of his face. Suddenly, he felt an undeniably powerful surge of responsibility for his estranged kid who still sat gazing at the source of the commotion.

“Get up Joey.” He said, reaching forward to grab both his jacket and his sons, pushing the latter into Joey’s arms as he got up stiltedly from the chair. “We need to leave!”

Leon spun on his heel and took two steps to reach the front door, beating all the other customers to it and making sure to usher his frightened son through first. As he did so, he took a final look back, but he saw something that took his breath away.

The kitchen entrance had been pulled from its hinges and the thing that appeared from the other side was not of this world. It had a long head like that of a horse except much larger, but instead of a smooth shape the outline was jagged and dragon like. It was mostly in silhouette somehow, despite the cool glow of many overhead lights in the serving area, but two eyes were set in the top half of the dark shape. They glowed a deep, exotic red, like two pieces of coal that glowed with searing heat. It terrified him because he felt like they were staring directly into the very depths of him and for a second he couldn’t escape.

Joey’s hand locked into Leon’s suddenly and he felt his son pull him, though did not hear the words he shouted, and suddenly he was able to move again, to pull away from the strange creature only a few feet away. Leon ran.