Prologue
The air crackled with lightning illuminating the dead bodies that littered the battlefield. Mangled corpses with nameless faces, gone to the Spirit Realm if they’d been deemed worthy.
“What do we do?” An Astral Guard, newly conscripted, looked towards his general, fear lining his otherwise hardened features.
“There is no retreating,” Carrigan paused, not remembering his name.
“Daegan, sir,” The Guard admonished.
“Daegan. Sound the horns.” Daegan nodded briskly and ran off to complete his task. Below Carrigan was a sea of black. Nightmares clashed with Astral Guards, the clang of weapons ringing in the air, shadows disappearing and reemerging. Guards drowned in the crest of dark smoke, talons, teeth, and claws.
General Carrigan stood atop the battlements of an outpost along the Etherium border. The nightmares had never ventured that close to Havenskeep, but they’d been growing audacious, emboldened by their dark leader. His piercing grey eyes swept the landscape, settling on the tree line in the distance. Lightning discharged, setting trees ablaze, the rain only adding to the smoke.
Horns sounded, alerting all Astral Guards into formation, and Corrigan watched as Guards flooded out of the gate, swords drawn, readying for the second wave of attack.
“Archers, ready,” Corrigan called, turning left and right ensuring their position. Rain pelted his face, sliding off his short greying hair, and he wiped it away, just as he would wipe away the creatures that sought to destroy them.
He gave the signal for the ground formation to move out and with a practiced rhythmic step, they marched. The archers on either side of him knocked their arrows, strings pulled taut. He could see the fear on their faces. Almost smell it, and if he could sense it, the nightmares could too.
“Aim,” he called, voice steady. The Guards on the ground marched towards the slaughter. He knew he was sending some to their deaths, but it was a burden he would have to bear. A burden he was fine with. He would lose every single one of them if it meant the scourge they fought would be eradicated.
Daegan marched with them, and he spared the male one last glance before yelling, “loose!”
The arrows released, hitting their mark on the sentient beings. Nightmares scattered, some turning to smoke evading the assault. Carrigan grit his teeth cursing under his breath. He needed to keep his composure. If not for himself, then for his men, his cannon fodder.
The archers continued their volley as screams rang out. Carrigan watched as the Nightmares tore through their ranks. How asinine could they be? Unsheathing his own sword, he ran down the battlement stairs and made his way to the gate. Men ran inside. Some clutching their spilling insides, others holding up others who were barely conscious, their heads lagging down awkwardly.
Carrigan walked directly towards the melee, slicing nightmares as he went, their corpses turning to ash upon impact. A creature lumbered towards him, limping with half a limb gone, three other appendages compensating. Its head was cocked in an unnatural angle, mouth too big for its face. Carrigan met it with disdain, bottom teeth protruding with the emotion. It lunged for him and with one swipe, he severed its grinning head from its body. Black ash mixed with the rain coated his face. He wiped it away with a grimace.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, quickly he turned, raising his sword to find Daegan. His pulse instantly slowed upon seeing the male, until he noticed he was clutching his chest, holding something. The male tried to speak, one hand reaching for Carrigan, the other clutching his chest.
“Daegan,” Carrigan said, ever the authoritarian. Daegan sputtered something, blood shooting out of his mouth, spraying Carrigan’s face in the warm red liquid. Carrigan took a startled step back as Daegan dropped to his knees, releasing his chest and Carrigan watched as the young Guard’s heart fell out and rolled towards his mud-soaked boots.
Hours later Carrigan found himself in the war room, coated in mud and blood standing in front of the pristine Queen Alora Seraphon of the Astral Realm. The only sign of stress on the female’s features were stray hairs that escaped her braid.
“How many did we lose?” She asked, voice like a harp string.
“Most,” Carrigan admitted. He wiped his cheek coming away with red smears on the back of his hand. It had been a bloody and brutal battle that they’d nearly lost.
“We won?” She asked, hands on the table overlooking the map which had infinitely less of their forces on it.
“Yes, but barely. The Nightmare King is gaining power.”
Azvameth’s nightmares, which were more like demons if you asked Carrigan, seemed to be endless. Wave after wave was a barrage of terror, cutting down Guard after Guard.
“I think it’s time we call them,” Carrigan said gently. He knew she didn’t want to call the Dream Walkers. For reasons unknown, she had relented every time he had suggested it, saying they had the numbers and could take care of it. They could not, in fact, take care of it. They needed the magic that none of the Guards possessed if there was even a sliver of hope to win the war.
Alora’s lips were pursed with deliberation, her brow creased. Corrigan had been a General under her late husband, King Arelius, Spirits keep him, and he had known her long enough to know when she was displeased, and when she was displeased, everyone was displeased.
“There is no other option,” he said coolly, an attempt to mitigate the backlash. Maybe if he could make her see the gravity, she would concede.
She bit her lower lip, anger flooding her features.
“Fine,” she spat. Her voice was so low, he nearly missed it.
“I apologize, battle has my ears ringing,” he said.
“Fine,” she yelled. He flinched slightly at her wrath. “Call the Dream Walkers.”
He nodded towards the scribe, who had diligently taken notes on the battle, and with a flourish of white robes, the scribe raced towards the adjacent wall. Pulling back a tapestry, a circle was painted on the wall behind it. Sigils lined the outside in symbols even Carrigan didn’t understand. Unsheathing a dagger, the scribe cut a small incision on his palm, barely wincing at the pain. Maybe the scribe should have been on the battlefield with him instead of the simpering pups he’d been given.
Carrigan watched as the scribe placed his palm atop five sigils, each representing the five elements of the Realm. That much Carrigan knew.
Five sigils ignited one by one as his blood mixed with the magic and when he was done, a heavy charge of electricity filled the air.
“Leave me,” Alora commanded, hand pinching the bridge of her nose.
The scribe bowed and left without a word.
“It’s the right thing,” Carrigan said, “for the realm.” He bowed curtly and about faced to the door.
“Carrigan,” Alora called, and he paused looking back. “We shall see.” He nodded again and left, blood now a tight, caked mass along his cheek.
Part One
From the tome of Andreli Archedeangeleoni, first scribe of Havenskeep in the time of our most benevolent King, and gracious Queen, King Algorn and Queen Emeria.
Forged in a celestial crisis, dream walkers emerged when astral entities sought mortal vessels to navigate the perilous dreamscape. Bestowing elemental powers — earth, air, fire, water, spirit — through a sacred rite, these chosen mortals became the first dream walkers, it is through their lineage that these gifts have been passed down.
Chapter One: The Dream
Ella ran and she knew that if she stopped, she would die. Her chestnut brown hair whipped across her vision as she looked behind her to see if it had gained on her. Heart pounding not just in her chest, but the intense rhythm vibrated in her throat. She may just vomit. Fear spurred her on. Her foot snagged and in an instant, she was sprawled on the ground, hands gripping the dirt, whatever air she had left forced out of her. Whispers, low and eerie, surrounded her on all sides. In through your nose, out through your mouth, she repeated the mantra, one her Sensi would often remind her of in their training sessions. But this was different. She wasn’t in the safety of the dojo- she was in the woods running for her life, sweat glistened on her forehead.
“Little, Windsor,” the voice was old and gravely like footsteps on stone, dragging and slow. A shiver slithered down Ella’s spine and goose flesh raised on her arms. Hoisting herself up, and nearly losing her footing again, she raced down the path. Fog enveloped the trees, moonlight casting an eerie glow illuminating her path to salvation. The whispers intensified, filling her ears entirely. She swatted at the air around her as if that would clear the specters she knew were there but couldn’t see. “Come now, little Windsor,” the voice felt on top of her now, the scent of death and decay hitting her nostrils. She turned seeking the source but finding none.
Ella switched paths darting behind the closest tree, her hands covered her mouth attempting to muffle her rough panting. There was no way it couldn’t hear her heartbeat. In through your nose. Ella tried to calmly release the breath out of her mouth and through her hands, steading her heart. She stole a glance around, there had to be something to arm herself with. She looked down at her hands but couldn’t see them. Why couldn’t she see her hands? A new panic began to unfold. Wait, she thought. I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming.
Ella hadn’t always been able to control her dreams, but within the last year, it was a talent of hers that she’d discovered, and it was one that she enjoyed, you know, when her dreams weren’t trying to kill her. Whether it was breathing underwater or flying, she didn’t have a preference and enjoyed the control. If she was dreaming, all she would have to do was wake up to be free of the nightmare.
Come on, Ella, wake up, she thought. She pinched her arm, pain momentarily flaring, but she was still in the dream. Damnit.
The bark from the tree dug deep into her back as she tried to meld into it. Snapping from behind her shield jarred her attention. She had to move. She would wake up eventually, right? If she couldn’t force herself awake, all she had to do was hang on a little longer.
What she really needed was a weapon. Ella dropped her hand to her side and imagined a dagger. Instantly, she felt the weight of something appear in her hand and she gripped it tightly. Looking down she tried to make out its appearance, but in the dreamscape, all she could see was the outline. Good enough. Without a look back, she pushed off the tree and ran. Hard. I need to find a way out, she thought. Towards the end of a path, Ella could make out the faintest glow of a light. It wasn’t the moon, which was above, but had a warm gleam to it. That’s where she needed to go. She could feel it. If only she could get there. Arms pumping hard at her side, dagger in hand, Ella’s pace matched the beats of her heart. Fly, she thought. Ella’s feet began to lift off the ground and hope bloomed in her chest.
“There you are,” the nightmare rasped, and a cold, bony touch gripped her ankle. Her body was violently pulled backwards, and she hit the ground with lethal force, coughing with the impact. Pain coated her entire body. Dreams weren’t supposed to hurt. Why did hers hurt? The dagger slipped from her hand and clattered in the dirt and billowing shadows descended upon her. The scream that erupted from her throat didn’t feel human.
It looked like a walking shadow with the outline never forming a solid line. Hovering above her, edges constantly moving. The skull was cloaked in a hood and the moonlight glinted off the skeletal face, eye sockets filled with a dull, luminous red. Its mouth hung open as if its jaw wasn’t quite attached with razor sharp teeth lining both top and bottom of the bone. Raising a shadow arm, its blackness took the form of spindled outstretched fingers.
Ella scrambled back and prayed for her dagger. The whispering of the woods continued in a crescendo around her. She couldn’t make out any of the words, but as it intensified, it was all she could do to not plug her ears.
Movement to her left caught her eye and she snapped her head to catch sight of it. Please don’t let it be another one, please. A figure stood in between the trees, this one more solid than the nightmare before her and it didn’t have that fuzzy quality the rest of the dream world had. Something on its back caught the light of the moon and for a split second it looked like a sword.
“Your bones will taste sweet,” the nightmare rasped, Ella’s attention jolting back to the terror in front of her. It was close enough now that she could feel its breath on her stinking of the same decay from what she could only imagine was its last meal. Ella glanced back at the figure, pleading with her eyes for help. She hadn’t produced that figure like she had the dagger, but it was gone. She was on her own. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She felt around in the darkness, scrambling to find the dagger that had fallen on impact. Finally, after agonizing seconds, she reached the hilt and gripped it tight as the nightmare loomed over her. Quickly and unceremoniously, she slashed out with the dagger willing it to make contact. The specter shrieked like nails on a chalkboard as the dagger hit its mark on the bottom part of its jaw.
“You will pay,” it hissed, “I will gnaw on your bones while you live, taking pieces of you while you watch.” It slashed its now taloned hand towards her. Ella lifted her arm to block the blow and instant searing, burning pain raced through her arm. She looked down at the blood welling there. The nightmare breathed in deeply and Ella swore she could make out a smile on its face. “Ahh, yes, the sweet, sweet liquid.” It salivated and she watched as putrid liquid fell out of its mouth.
“Get away from me!” Ella screamed, slashing the dagger in front of her again.
“You will be most delicious,” it hissed and lowered its mouth to her arm where the blood pooled.
“No!” Ella screamed.
“Ella, get up!” a voice from far away called.
“No!” She screamed again.
“Ella! Get up, you’re going to be late!” Ella’s mother’s voice called through the bedroom door.
Ella Windsor jolted awake, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She was drenched in sweat, tangled in her bedsheets, and gasping for breath as the remnants of the nightmarish vision still haunted her mind. It took her a moment to realize she was no longer dreaming, and that she was safely in her bed. She could still feel the breath on her, and the smell remained in her nostrils.
Now, in her dimly lit bedroom, Ella's trembling hand instinctively went to her forearm. Slowly and with a trembling hand she traced the spot where the figure had cut her in the dream. Panic and shock flooded her as she felt a warm, sticky wetness. Pulling her hand away, in the pale early morning light filtering through her curtains, was the unmistakable glint of blood. Fresh panic surged through her veins as she fumbled for the bedside lamp and switched it on. Her heart raced even faster as she saw the deep gash on her forearm, the same spot where she had been wounded in the nightmare. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be possible. Dreams were just that, dreams. You couldn’t get hurt in your dreams, but that wasn’t true, was it? Her arm was proof of that. Ella looked around her room as if the four walls would have the answer.
“Ella!” Her mother called again.
“Yeah?” It came out in a whisper, and she cleared her throat, her voice raw. She tried again, “Yeah?”
“Let’s get moving!”
“Ok!” She called back with a shaking and raw voice. Was it raw from screaming? Had she been screaming in her sleep? Wouldn’t her mom or Ian have heard her and come to wake her up? She doubted her stepdad, Brian, would have intervened, but Ian, her twin, and her mom surely would have.
Ella tried to steady her breathing, her mind racing with fear and confusion. How had a wound from her dream appeared on her body? She had heard of lucid dreams, which is what she did every time she controlled them to fly or even drawing the dagger to her, but this was something entirely different—a nightmare that had left a physical mark.
Ella shifted in bed and touched something cold against her skin under the covers. Screaming, she retracted her legs up to her chest, clutching her knees to her like a child.
Pounding feet flooded the stairs outside of her door and without warning, the door burst open, overhead light flipping on.
“What? What is it? Are you ok?” Her mother’s voice was panicked. Meredith Windsor was the epitome of a type A; well put together, everything needs to be perfect, working mom. Her brown hair, the same as Ella’s, was curled to perfection, clothing pressed, and makeup flawless. She worked at a legal firm and looked every bit the part. Her serious features now contorted in worry.
Ella cleared her throat and looked around the room settling on her mother. Nothing moved under her covers. If it had been a nightmare, it wouldn’t have fit under them or anywhere in her room for that matter. Get a grip, she told herself.
“Yeah, sorry, Mom. Spider,” she tried to chuckle.
“Jesus Christ,” her mom shook her head, “get up. You’re already going to be late. I’ve been calling you for a half hour now.” Meredith shook her head at her daughter and closed her door, annoyance apparent.
Gradually returning her focus to her covers, her gaze fixated on them as if they concealed a snake ready to strike. Slowly, with a shaky breath, she inched her hand towards her comforter. The arm she extended was now a dried mass and, in the light, not only was it blood, but she could make out bits of dirt on her forearm as well. Before she lost her resolve, she flipped the blanket back preparing for a new attack. Fear coursed through her and settled in her stomach when she saw what lay there. She almost wished it had been a snake, or worse a spider. There, laying delicately between her sheets, was a small dagger. The hilt was brown with thin leather cord spiraling intricately around it in a crisscross pattern, and the blade sported thick, black residue. Ella cautiously reached for it, as if touching it would trigger the nightmare and gripped the handle, feeling the familiar weight she had experienced when she created it in her dream. It was the same one. How was that possible?
Chapter 2: The Evamon
“What happened there?” Sophia gestured to Ella’s arm as Ella slid into the passenger seat of Sophia’s blue Camry twenty minutes later.
“Oh, I scratched myself,” Ella replied instinctively, reaching for the now covered wound. It had taken her every bit of those twenty minutes to find enough bandaging in their medicine cabinet to cover it after the bubbling peroxide eroded away the bacteria. She’d winced as it cleansed her arm.
“A scratch? It looks like a lot more than a scratch.” Sophia turned the volume down, twirling her blonde strands around her finger, and looked at Ella expectantly. Ella stared back blankly. What was she going to say? When she didn’t respond, Sophia gave her a side eye and said, “We’ve been friends for how long? Since middle school? You can’t lie to me.”
Ella took a different tactic, “Yep, and aren’t you so glad you sat next to me?”
“No, you had no friends and sat next to me,” she said through a shy smile, brushing her light blonde hair out of her stark blue eyes. They contrasted Ella’s chestnut brown hair and blue eyes; while Sophia’s were like ice, Ella’s had a deeper hue. She loved how they complimented each other in more ways than just their features.
“So,” she said quietly, “are you going to tell me what actually happened?” Ella sighed internally at her failure to dissuade her friend. Although Sophia was quieter than Ella’s gregarious personality, she never shied away from calling Ella out. She needed to be brought back down to Earth sometimes though, and Sophia did that for her.
Ella glanced down again at the bandage. "Yeah, well, Meredith and Brian decided they wanted rose bushes. I got into a fight with one." She turned away to gaze out of the passenger window. She didn’t like lying to her best friend, but how was she supposed to tell her what happened? It would be a quick way to end up strapped to a bed in the Crisis ward. Sophia would probably think she had cut herself, which had never been a coping mechanism for Ella - information Sophia already knew. But waking up from a nightmare with cuts on her arm from a creature in her dream? It was better she didn’t put that on her. Ella needed to sort out her own thoughts and feelings before sharing them.
“We’re calling them Brian and Meredith still?” Sophia commented without looking at Ella and kept her eyes on the road.
“They don’t deserve Mom and Dad.”
It was no secret between them that Ella had a strained relationship with her parents. Meredith’s constant hovering, strict rules for Ella that didn’t apply to Ian, and unrelenting scrutiny made it difficult for Ella to feel close to her mother. Brian had always been there for as long as she could remember, though he wasn’t their biological father, and he treated her as such. Brian and Ian were closer since they had sports to connect them, with Brian coaching Ian’s football team, but Ella didn’t play a sport except for Jujitsu, which she had loved since she was four years old. Meredith hadn’t liked it, though, and encouraged her to try something more “feminine” like Ballet. It was only when Ella had pendulum-swept another little girl rather than Grand Jeté-ing across the floor that Ella was asked to leave, and Meredith conceded. It was always as if her mom and Brian wanted Ella to be something she wasn’t, and whenever she didn’t live up to their expectations, they let her know it. Rather than internalizing it, Ella took the opposite approach and distanced herself from them. Better to be a disappointment from afar.
“If I called my parents by their names, my mom would smack me,” Sophia laughed.
“Yeah, you’re right, she would,” Ella echoed her laugh. Ugh, why couldn’t she have parents like Sophia? “Maybe your parents could adopt me and then we could really be sisters.”
“You don’t have to be adopted to be my sister, you already are,” Sophia said with a smile, and it made Ella smile too, lightening her dark mood. Sophia was the best at making her feel better, feel wanted. After the terrifying night she had it felt nice and normal to talk with her friend.
“What’s going on?” Sophia asked, craning her neck over the wheel. Pulling Ella out of her thoughts, she looked in front of her as they approached a series of police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance outside of a beautiful two-story home. Sophia pulled the car over to the opposite side of the residential street.
“What are you doing?” Ella chided. They shouldn’t park, they should get to school.
“I’m nosey. I want to see what’s going on.”
Ella's head shook in disbelief, her laughter tinged with nervousness. Although no flames were visible, a crowd had gathered, their faces a mix of fear and fascination. In the periphery of Ella's vision, a dark silhouette seized her attention. Whipping her head towards the second story, she watched as a shadowy figure emerged from a side window onto the garage roof. Fear tightened its grip on Ella, constricting her breath. The creature's form was engulfed in swirling darkness, and as it loomed, Ella discerned the fiery red glow of its eyes and the glint of sunlight on its jagged teeth. A muffled scream escaped her lips, a visceral response to the terror unfolding before her.
“What?! What’s wrong?” Worry etched in Sophia’s voice.
“Look!” Ella pointed towards the figure crouched on the roof.
Craning her next in all directions, she said, “what? I don’t see anything.”
“You don’t see it?” Ella looked at Sophia in sheer disbelief. How could she not see something that was right there in plain sight? If fear was ice, Ella would be frozen solid, immoveable. She felt her fingers start to tingle, and her heart beat erratically. A panic attack would be most inconvenient so she breathed. Deeply. In through your nose, out through your mouth. The mantra did nothing to soothe her panic.
“No but look.” Sophia pointed to the front door. Emerging were paramedics pushing a gurney, white sheet covering the outline of a body. “Oh my god, someone died?”
The girls watched as it was pushed down the center sidewalk and into the ambulance. Onlookers covered their mouths in shock. Nothing like that had ever happened in their town. It was a quiet, suburban, and very vanilla place. Ella shook her hands in front of her, trying to regain feeling.
“Let’s go.” It came out as a whisper and Ella cleared her throat attempting the words again.
“Yeah,” Sophia agreed, “at this point we’ve missed our first period, but we have that test in Masterson’s class today.”
"Shit," Ella cursed inwardly as she realized she had forgotten about the English test. They had been reading The Great Gatsby and were supposed to finish the chapter last night. Fantastic. Not only had she neglected to read it, but there was no way she could concentrate now. Not after last night, and especially not at this moment. Perhaps something was wrong with her. Did she need glasses? What kind of glasses would prevent her from seeing things others didn't? If Sophia couldn’t see it, did that mean no one else could, either? Was she the sole witness to what was happening? Upon reaching school, Ella couldn’t help scanning her surroundings for any signs of living nightmares. It could just be exhaustion, she reasoned. Yes, that's what it was. She was just tired.
“Put your phones away,” Mrs. Masterson told the class as she walked around passing out papers. “If you read the chapter last night, you’ll be perfectly fine.”
Ella put her head in her hands as the paper was placed on her desk. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t take a test when it felt like her world was crumbling out from under her. She felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, unable to stop it and just along for the ride. A ride she didn’t ask for or want.
Raising her hand she asked, “Can I go to the bathroom?”
Masterson gave her a pointed look and gestured to the door, “hurry up, Ella.”
Walking quickly, borderline running, she felt eyes on her as she went past.
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty when she walked in. Dropping her bag, she glanced at herself in the mirror. "Get a grip," she muttered. Turning the water onto cold, she splashed the frigid liquid onto her face, feeling droplets fall off her nose. She didn't care if her makeup ran. "Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth," she reminded herself. The paper towels felt like sandpaper against her skin, but she dried her face anyway.
Pacing with her hands on her head, attempting to steady her breathing, Ella paused at the window. Students littered the courtyard in conversation, some with their books open, others playing with a football, and one group of girls consoling their crying friend, likely over a boy. Envy flooded her. Their days were completely normal, filled with friends, classes, and whatever inconsequential problems they faced. She would have given anything to be one of them.
A ripple in the air in the courtyard caught her attention. It was like heat waves off the pavement on hot days, except it was October and the air hadn’t risen above sixty degrees. Her heart raced, palms perspired. She looked down from her high vantage point, hands pressing against the ledge of the window. No. It couldn’t be. Not here. Not now. A frustrated sigh ripped through her throat, and she closed her eyes, willing the image into nonexistence.
The undulations in the air were now an iridescent hue, and a second later, what emerged put an entirely new level of fear within Ella. A creature, unlike the shadow, crawled through the distortion. It was humanoid in theory, with arms and legs, except it crawled on all fours. Its head was at an unnatural angle as if its neck had been broken, and its movements were jagged. A mouth, too large for its face, was upturned in a gripping smile. White and sunken eyes looked around, assessing the surroundings, and then its attention settled on her. She jerked back from the window, her heart thundering in her chest, fear rooting her to her spot. She should run. She should run long and far, but she was stone.
Long, black, straggly hair hung in clumped patches, swaying over its disturbing head. What was it going to do? What should she do? If it attacked someone, it could be worse than what happened to her. What if another person ended up dead like the house she had seen earlier? Her hands began to tingle with panic, the blood rushing from her extremities and flooding to her heart.
Between fight or flight, fight won, and before she knew what she was doing, Ella grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and headed for the door closest to the courtyard. Her head overruled her fear. If no one else could see it, they wouldn’t know to run, and she would be witness to yet another body bag, maybe many with the number of students outside. Ella burst through the courtyard door, scanning for the creature. It was now moving in that unnatural way, heading for the girls consoling their friend. A scream of warning built in Ella’s throat.
"No!" She screamed, her voice echoing through the courtyard. All eyes, including the creature's, turned to her. It locked its sunken, dead eyes on Ella, cocking its head to the side, mouth dripping saliva as it skittered towards her. She didn’t have time to feel embarrassed by her outburst or the stares; some whispered to their friends and pointed at her. Thankfully, everyone in the courtyard resumed their activities, the irony not lost on her. A hellish creature among them, and they resumed what they were doing, unfazed. Unbelievable.
Sprinting, Ella needed to get away. Not just from the creature, but from the students too. Maybe she could lead it away and then what? Fight it? Kill it? How does one kill a nightmare? That’s what it had to be. Another nightmare, like the one from her dream, like the one on the roof.
Ella rounded the corner of the school, reaching what should be the outside of the gym. Looking around, she noticed no windows, which could be a good thing. At least no one would see her fighting an invisible force. This was insane. She would have to ponder her need for sleep once she wasn’t in imminent danger. Opening her bag, she fumbled through the sack until her hand rested on the dagger—the same dagger she had formed in her dream, the one she had found on her bed. Not wanting Meredith to find it if she cleaned, Ella had thrown it in her bag, not even considering she might need to use it. What would her mother have thought if she found a dagger in Ella’s room? Goodness, she was a mess.
Without warning, the creature rounded the corner, immediately pulling Ella from her thoughts. Ella tossed her bag to the side and gripped the dagger tightly in her hand, her attention focused solely on the creature before her. It moved in jerky, stiff motions, scuttling back and forth like a crab. Its head shifted back and forth like a curious dog.
"Come on," Ella yelled, her dagger trembling in her hand as she assumed an offensive stance, just as Sensei had taught her. The anticipation was overwhelming. Just attack already. Get this over with. She shifted back and forth on her toes, adrenaline clearing her panic. The creature's mouth seemed to widen into a grin as if it found its prey. It circled Ella, searching for an opening, a way to sink its teeth into her. She made sure never to turn her back on it, following its movements closely.
Just as she gathered the courage to strike first, the air became heavy, as if charged with electricity. Behind the creature, another distortion in the air formed. That was it. If another nightmare, creature, demon—whatever it was—came through that opening, she knew she was done for. Ella thought about her mom, Ian, Brian, and Sophia. She was going to die. She knew it. She would be torn apart, and only pieces of her would be left for someone to find. Behind the gym. Next to the dumpster. Fantastic.
The creature lunged at Ella, and she struck out with the dagger. The creature tried to evade, snapping its jaws in protest. Chomping its mouth, it shook its head as if trying to rid itself of the scratch she had inflicted.
"That’s right," Ella said with false bravado.
The air behind the creature glowed with a blue hue, distinct from the one it had emerged from. This new opening took on the shape of a circle adorned with unfamiliar shapes and designs. Moments later, it wasn’t another creature that emerged, but two men clad in armor, each wielding large swords. She stood in disbelief, mouth hanging open. The first man was tall with shoulder-length blonde hair, half of it tied back, while the second was slightly shorter with cropped brown hair. Both wore matching silver-plated armor adorned with a golden crest on the breastplate. Blue fabric peeked through the gaps in their armor, and their swords featured ornate designs with golden emblems on the hilts.
"Dispatch this quickly so we can return," the blonde-haired knight commanded, his voice rough and deep.
"Will do, Ethan. This is the second Evamon we’ve encountered this week," the dark-haired knight replied.
"Yes, well, we can discuss that later."
Ella stood with her dagger poised in front of her, as if it could protect her against both the creature and the knights, her hand trembling. She felt the familiar pang of panic creeping in, her fingers tingling as blood rushed from her extremities to her terrified heart. No, no, no. She couldn’t afford to freeze in panic. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel and she shook her head to clear it.
Upon their arrival, the creature turned its attention to them, and Ella heaved a slight sigh of relief, knowing she wasn’t its focus any longer. At least for a moment, she could breathe again, and air came a bit easier into her lungs. Bile crept up her throat, and it was all she could do not to unleash the contents of her stomach right there.
The creature, now identified as an Evamon, lunged, snapping its jaws at the dark-haired Knight. The knight blocked the Evamon’s outstretched, clawed hand with his sword and swung high over his head. As the Evamon reached for him, he slashed the sword down, cutting off the outstretched arm. The Evamon screamed in pain, causing Ella to grip her ears with her hands.
“Stop playing with it, Silas,” Ethan ordered. Silas smiled at him as the Evamon recoiled like a spider. “Enough,” Ethan said, unsheathing his own sword and walking dutifully towards the Evamon, a trail of black liquid following its steps. Without hesitation, Ethan hoisted his sword high and brought it down on the head, severing it from the body. Ella watched as, a second later, the Evamon’s body, head, arm, and blood disintegrated as if they had never been there.
Ella retreated a few steps, anything to get away from the scene that had just unfolded in front of her. Knocking into the dumpster behind her, the sound reverberated loudly. Both knights looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, and Ella’s eyes widened at their attention, feeling like a deer in headlights.
“I’m not a threat,” she said, placing her hands up, dagger in hand, in front of her in supplication.
Silas looked to Ethan, but Ethan’s gaze remained locked on Ella.
“You can see the Evamon,” Ethan said. It wasn’t a question.
Ella nodded, unable to find her voice.
“What do you want to do?” Silas asked, turning towards Ethan, hand moving back to the hilt of his now sheathed sword. He stole a side glance at Ella and her heart dropped. Would they kill her too?
“Return, now,” Ethan gestured to the blue hole they had come through. Silas gave a curt nod and without another look back, walked through the blue shimmering light.
Then it was the two of them. Heart beating wildly. If he didn’t kill her, she would probably die of a heart attack. After she had been saved, would she die now? It was almost more than she could handle. This couldn’t be real life.
“You can see the Evamon, and you can see us,” Ethan said, his blue eyes narrowing on her.
“Yes,” she stuttered, voice cracking, “ and there was a shadow at a house earlier.” She raised a pointed shaking finger.
“Yes, the Reaper,” he nodded slowly, assessing her. Sun highlighted his golden blonde waves.
“It’s called a Reaper?” Her voice was on the brink of hysteria. She hated how weak she sounded. Her Sensei would have been displeased. He had trained her to be strong. She was feeling everything but strong at that moment. More like glass about to shatter.
Ethan stepped closer to Ella and from that distance she could make out his blue eyes. He had to be no more than twenty-two, although fatigue crossed his features making him appear older. He had a straight nose, full lips, and a sharp jawline. Everything you’d imagine a Knight to be. He was gorgeous. The weight of his stare made Ella blush. She imagined how small and frail she appeared standing before him.
“You will tell no one of what you have seen,” Ethan instructed. He began to turn towards the blue portal.
“Wait,” Ella called, voice cracking. The first person she encountered who could see what she saw, and he wasn’t going to explain anything? Ethan didn’t pause when she called him. “You’re not going to kill me?
“Not today,” he smirked.
“Am I going crazy?” She yelled as he was halfway through the portal.
“No,” he said over his shoulder.
It was the only answer she received as he disappeared through the portal, and a moment later it disappeared as well leaving Ella standing alone in the parking lot with only her thoughts as company.
Chapter 3: Family
“Where are you?” Ella sent a text to Ian’s phone as she walked back into the building. The bell rang as Ella reached the stairs, and students packed into the hallways like sardines. Ella’s phone vibrated.
"Gym," the text read. Quickly, Ella headed towards the gym, the smell of sweat and chlorine from the pool assaulting her senses. Students played various games, and Ella spotted Ian immediately.
“Give me your keys, please,” Ella asked, holding out her hand.
“Why?” Ian said, reaching into his pocket.
“Because I have to go.”
She couldn’t stay in school any longer, pretending that everything was okay, and acting like her biggest concern was an English test or some other trivial thing. She needed to figure out how to contact that Knight again, not that she had any idea where to begin. Maybe he would be able to answer her questions if he stayed long enough to do so. Or maybe she should just take a nap. When she woke up next time, the world would be righted.
“Mom is going to kill you,” Ian said, handing her the keys.
“Yeah, add it to the list of disappointments,” she shrugged.
Ella began to walk away but felt a hand on her arm. She jumped and snatched her arm from his grip.
“Are you okay?” Concern lined Ian’s brow. Ian and Ella were close despite their differences with their parents. So close that when they were little, if one got hurt, the other felt it. “You’ve been feeling off,” he commented, echoing her earlier thought. Although they were twins, they looked nothing alike, and she watched him brush a hand through his sandy brown hair.
“Yeah, I just don’t feel good. I’m going to go home and,” she paused, “sleep,” she finished. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon or in the near future. How long could someone stay awake before it became a problem? Yet another thing she didn’t know but would have to find out.
“Okay,” he conceded, “I’ll get a ride home.”
Ella nodded and began to walk again. “Ella,” Ian called. She turned around to find Ian embracing her in a hug. She let herself sink into his strength for a moment, not realizing just how much she needed it. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
She gave him a strained smile as she walked to the door hearing behind her chides from Ian’s friends and Ian replying, “that’s my sister, dude, come on.” Ella was thankful for their bond and no matter who Ian was in front of, Ella always came first just as he did for her.
Rather than pulling up to their house, Ella found herself in front of the Dojo. The parking lot was empty, but she knew Sensei Kimura was there. He was always there. The one place where everything always seemed right was in the Dojo. Ella opened the door and heard the familiar chime of bells upon entering. It smelled like a mixture of cleaner and sweat. Ella took her shoes off as she crossed the mat, heading for the back office.
“Hello?” A familiar voice called.
“It’s me,” Ella yelled back.
“You don’t have class for quite a few hours,” he said, “is everything alright?” Sensei Kimura, Kim for short, took his glasses off as he walked out, the grey rims highlighting the greys he sported on the outside of his temples.
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling like she was close to tears.
“To the mat, let’s go,” he said as he tightened the black belt of his gi.
This wasn’t the first time Ella had come before their session after feeling upset. Sensei Kimura had grown accustomed to her needing to take out her aggression on the mat. If she didn’t do it that way, it would have been released on someone else; someone that would have gotten her into trouble.
Ella placed her things down, “I’m not dressed for sparring.”
“We can’t always have time to change before a problem comes up. What you are wearing will have to do.”
After tying her hair back, Ella took her stance on the mat.
Kim bowed, and she returned the bow, breathing in.
It began with a flurry of moves, their movements both fluid and precise. Kimura reached for her legs, aiming to bring her to the ground, but Ella anticipated it. Sprawling backward, she used her hips to block him and maintained her balance.
Grunting, Kim said, “Jujitsu isn't just about techniques, Ella. It's about controlling your opponent's energy, understanding leverage, and finding the path of least resistance.” He continued his attack, blocking and countering.
Ella replied, “I understand, Sensei. It's about using their force against them.” She breathed hard, remembering the mantra, and focused on calming herself.
The spar continued with Ella attempting a takedown while Kim countered. Ella could see what he was setting up for, and when he attempted a hip throw, she countered with a hip escape and regained her footing.
They moved around each other, both looking for an opening. Ella smirked, “it's about escaping even the tightest situations, right, Sensei?”
Seamlessly, Ella moved into a kimura lock, applying leverage to Sensei Kimura's arm and shoulder. He grimaced but didn’t submit.
“Precisely, Ella. Jujitsu teaches us to remain calm under pressure. Something you need to remember.”
Feeling a sense of confidence she hadn’t felt since the previous day, before the nightmares and the Reaper, and before the Evamon, Ella shifted into a triangle choke, using her legs to trap Sensei Kim's head and arm. Breathing rapidly, she did everything she could to hold on and not allow him to escape. It had taken a long time for her to gain the upper hand with her Sensei. Muscles straining with the force, finally Kim tapped the mat and Ella released her hold.
“Very well done,” Kim huffed a breath as he stood, bowing. Ella did the same and bowed.
“Thanks, Kim, you’re getting old,” she laughed.
Ella felt like she had some semblance of control now.
He gave her a chiding smile and said, “you will do well for your belt test tonight. Black, right?” He started towards the water cooler and poured himself a cup.
“Yes,” Ella beamed. She’d been looking forward to this test since Kim had told her she was ready. Reapers be damned, she would get that belt.
“Will your parents and your brother be here?”
“I’m not sure. My mom didn’t say anything to me about it this morning and I haven’t talked to her all day.”
Kim gave her a sad smile and handed her some water.
As Ella parked her car, the warm glow of the kitchen lights beckoned from the windows, casting elongated shadows across the front walkway. With her black belt slung over her shoulder and her bag in hand, she emerged from the car, her senses on high alert. Her gaze swept over the familiar surroundings, half-expecting to spot the ominous silhouette of a Reaper looming on the roof or the telltale signs of an Evamon lurking in the shadows. Yet, the night remained eerily quiet, with only the faint hum of crickets breaking the silence.
Her heart pulsed with anticipation as she made her way up the driveway. Each step brought her closer to the door leading into the kitchen, the entrance to her haven amidst the horrors of the day. Despite the comforting figures of her parents' cars in the garage, a pang of disappointment pierced through her. They hadn't come to her belt test—a fact she had half-expected but secretly hoped would be different. Even Ian, her ever-reliable brother, was conspicuously absent, a deviation from his usual steadfast support.
A knot of worry twisted in her stomach, mingling with a potent blend of annoyance and simmering anger. She longed for the familiar embrace of her family, for reassurance in the face of the unknown. Yet, as she approached the door, she steeled herself, pushing aside her turbulent emotions.
“Mom, Dad, I passed my test,” Ella called as she walked into the kitchen. She placed her things on the counter and hung her keys on the key ring. The kitchen was empty except for the food boiling over on the stove, the smoke alarm blaring.
Smoke billowed in plumes out of the oven, and Ella rushed to open it, fanning the smoke with a potholder. The contents completely charred.
“Mom?” She yelled, confused. Where the hell was everyone, and why had they left dinner on? That was completely unlike her type A parents. Ella turned the burner off carefully to avoid the boiling droplets spilling over the pot.
Running into the living room, she was met with emptiness. Maybe they had fallen asleep? Both of them? Maybe something happened with Ian, and they had to go to the hospital? She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted him.
Where are you? She texted.
Shoving the phone back into her pocket, she took the stairs two at a time, yelling, “Mom! Dad!”
At the top of the stairs, a stench hit her nose. It was thick and acrid, like something had died, pungent with a hint of sulfur. The air was charged with electricity and felt like a physical presence, as if she had to part the air to walk through it. Her feet stuck in something wet, and slowly she looked down to see a thick pool of blood. The pool gave way to blood droplets down the stairs. How had she missed it when she bounded up them? No. The breath left her lungs. Slowly, she crept forward to her parents’ room, adrenaline coursing through her, hands shaking at her sides.
The blood at her feet began to mix with something black and thick. Like the substance that had been on her blade. Like the substance from the Evamon. Ella walked slowly on, now wishing she hadn’t left her bag in the kitchen with her dagger in it. The door to her parents’ room stood slightly ajar, bloody handprints slathered on what had been a white pristine canvas, now painted with final moments. Ella, with a shaky hand, pushed the door open slightly and what she viewed was worse than even her nightmares could concoct.
Her mother lay sprawled on the bed, head hanging off, her chestnut hair, akin to Ella’s own, touching the ground. Mouth poised in a silent scream, eyes wide and lifeless. Their bodies torn apart, more blood staining the bed than the comforter. Brian sat on the floor next to her, head leaning against it, legs in an unnatural angle, his body just as mangled as her beautiful mother's. Blood lined the walls, some parts still dripping. The scream that erupted from Ella was less human and more animalistic as she threw herself onto her mother and father, feeling their cold, grey, lifeless bodies. The light pink of the walls, a terrible reminder of when she had been little coming to seek her mother’s comfort. There would be no more comfort.
Tears poured down Ella’s face, muddying it with blood as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Stumbling from the room, Ella hobbled to Ian’s room, slipping on the wet floor. Hands on the ground, she propelled herself forward to the adjacent room and pushed it open with force. Empty. His room was empty. Relief washed through her at the sight of his unchanged room, but new fear lodged in her throat. Where was he then?
A loud bang from downstairs forced her out of her thoughts, and she stiffened. Slowly and quietly, she walked out of Ian’s room and back into the hallway. Items fell all over the kitchen. She could hear pots and pans clattering to the floor. Thundering steps made their way through the living room, followed by lamps shattering and items thudding to the floor. Ella peered over the railing as best she could to see a clawed hand, thick, with scaly skin gripping the banister. Her eyes widened; fear seizing her again. She could hear it sniffing. Ella sucked in a breath and backed away slowly, feet catching on the slick wetness of the hardwood, and, in an instant, she was on her back. Without warning, the head of the creature shot to the stairs and in one leap it was on the landing at the top.
Ella scrambled backwards, hands slick with blood and black ooze. The creature was too big for the space and excessively round. Thick green, and brown scales covered its skin, and pus seeped out of its body. Ella caught sight of a wound on its side still pouring out the black blood that all nightmares seemed to be filled with. Where had it been hiding that she hadn’t seen it when she arrived? Its toad-like face had thin lips unable to close due to the sharp teeth jutting out. Two slits for a nose sat underneath bulging eyes. It paused only for a moment as it sniffed again, setting its sights on Ella scrambling on the floor. The oversized body had trouble moving down the hallway, stuck between the wall and the banister. She used this fact to her advantage and crawled closer to her door, scrambling onto the carpet.
Slamming the door to her room, she pushed the dresser in front of it. The carpet, her additional enemy. Finally, it positioned into place. It wouldn’t hold for long, but Ella needed to escape. She ran to the window and threw it open. The screen didn’t budge when she pushed on it. Damnit, she seethed through gritted teeth as she pushed harder. Just as she stood on her bed, raising one foot to kick it out, she felt that electric feeling again and looked behind her. A blue shimmering light emerged in the center of her room, the same one she had seen the Knights go through. The creature slammed against the door now, the dresser moving only a fraction every time it was hit. Stepping out of the blue light, Ethan stood before her.
“You,” Ella said through huffing breaths.
“You need to come with me,” Ethan commanded.
“Come with you? Where?”
The pounding on the door intensified, and the dresser inched farther and farther away from its duty.
“Does it matter? You need to leave now.” Ethan motioned for the portal.
“My parents,” she said longingly.
“Are gone, and if you don’t come with me, you will be too, along with everyone else you love.”
“I can’t go with you!” She screamed.
The dresser was far enough away from the door that the only thing holding it closed was the paltry lock, and Ella could hear the wood splintering under the force.
“You could stay here and fight the Grimrot,” he suggested. His tone was way too calm for the situation. Ella looked to him, fearful and debating.
She snuck a glance at the door and back at Ethan. The pounding had stopped, and the house was eerily quiet. Then, like a bomb, the door exploded, and Ella covered her face to shield from the debris. The Grimrot’s scaled arm reached inside the door as it attempted to force its way into the room, once again, too large for the space, and the remnants of the dresser prevented its enormous body from entering.
Ella screamed and ran towards Ethan. She felt its rough claw snag on her jacket and forcefully ripped herself free of it, hurtling herself into the portal and away from the imminent danger. The only sound was the chime of her phone as it received a text message and a loud whoosh of air.
