A/N: Thanks to Pennywise for letting me use their art as this story's cover image.
Chapter 2
Thank goodness for small blessings. While Flick wasn't used to walking to school, having taken the bus back in Wyoming, it wasn't much more than a ten minute walk from her apartment to Crossroads Academy. It didn't even feel that long, thanks to the constant chatter she had with Sands and Scout (mostly Sands, but Scout would still listen and occasionally comment through her twin).
Crossroads looked like any other high school. It was a brick building with green roofs, matching the color of their turtle mascot. In front of the school was a large field. It was early enough that some students were hanging out on that field, throwing balls and frisbees back and forth or just sitting and talking on the grass.
One of those sitting looked their way. And wow, was she seriously a student and not some model? She had flawless skin, beautiful, long black hair, and, well, she was stacked. Then there was the fact that she was several inches taller than Flick, who was already an inch or two taller than Sands and Scout herself.
The boy she was talking to had light skin and dark green hair in a buzz cut. He had just finished laughing at something she said, when he noticed her gaze on them. Once he turned in their direction, recognition shone in his eyes, and he waved. Sands raised a hand in greeting, while Scout gave a full wave to match the boy's.
"Do you know them?" Flick asked.
Sands nodded. "That's Avalon and Torv. I don't know them as well as Scout." She smirked. "Believe it or not, Scout spends plenty of time with Avalon."
Scout shrugged, not bothering to deny it. Good to know she had friends outside of her twin. How she'd made them without talking much, Flick wasn't sure. Though for all she knew, Scout opened up around people she was more familiar with.
"I'm sure we'll see them during lunch," Sands said. "For now, I'm starving. Let's get those bagels we were talking about."
It was a bit of a walk from the entrance to the cafeteria. Thanks to that, Flick got a good look at the school, and . . . it was a school. Some hallways had trophies in glass cases, drawings made by students were on the walls, there were different colored tiles on the floor, and that was about it. The lockers were tall, at least, no one having to share a column with someone else.
The cafeteria was much the same, filled with those round tables that had the uncomfortable seats connected to them. There was a mural of a boy with black hair reading a book in a leather chair, painted by the English Honor Society, so that was sort of neat.
"Plain bagels good with you?" Sands asked.
"Do they have blueberry?" Flick asked.
"I think so," Sands said. "I'll check."
Rather than sit at one of the empty tables, Flick decided to follow Sands to the counter. Running it was a dark skinned woman with pale hair.
The woman smiled upon seeing them, and Flick had to repress a shiver seeing it. The smile felt too forced, like the kind a clown would wear.
"Good morning, Sands," the woman said. "Do you want your usual?"
"Hello, Ms. Charmeine," Sands said. "Yeah, but could you also get a blueberry bagel for her?" She pointed at Flick as she asked.
Charmeine's gaze fell on Flick, and while the smile remained, the woman's eyes narrowed slightly. She glanced up and down Flick's body a bit too long to be comfortable.
"Coming right up," Charmeine said, and Flick was able to sigh with relief when the woman turned her back to them. To distract herself from, well, whatever that was, she pulled out her phone. And immediately frowned.
That app again. What is this thing? Once again, the app expanded on its own, taking up her screen.
Before she could delete the app once more, Charmeine turned back toward them with her hand outstretched. "Here you are."
"Thank you," Sands said, handing Flick her bagel. Flick took it absentmindedly, still frowning at her phone.
Scout was waiting for them at the cafeteria entrance, and once they met up with her, all three of them moved out to the hallway to eat, Sands saying she'd rather lean against a wall than use the tables.
"So," Sands said. "Ms. Charmeine. Weird, huh?"
"It wasn't just me?" Flick asked.
Sands joined Scout in sitting against the wall, Flick opting to stand. "Yeah. She's friendly, but she talks with us a bit too much, you know? It's like she wants to know everything that's going on in the school."
"Think she's a child predator?" Flick asked.
Sands snorted. "I doubt it. She just doesn't give off that sort of vibe, you know? She's strange, but not really threatening."
Flick took a bite of her bagel while she formulated her response. After swallowing, she said, "Well, you still wouldn't catch me near an abandoned graveyard with her."
As soon as Flick finished speaking, she was hit with a wave of nausea. She grunted, clutching her head and trying to keep that single bite of bagel from coming back up. Colors swirled at the edge of her vision.
Sands groaned beside her. "Ugh, my head. What . . . was . . . that?"
"Sands?" Flick asked, moving her hand away from her face. When she did, she gasped.
Gone were the brightly lit, walled hallways. They had been replaced with an open field filled with grass that reached Flick's ankles. In the back of her mind, she was grateful for the brown boots she wore. More pressing, however, were the other objects that littered the field.
Sands swallowed. "That's . . . that's a lot of graves."
No kidding. It seemed for every locker that had been in the school, there was now a stone grave. It was too dark to make out any writing on the graves from a distance, the sky above them being pitch black and missing a moon.
"My comment before," Flick put in despite herself, "about an abandoned graveyard? That wasn't supposed to be taken seriously."
Both the twins gave her a look at that, which, fair. Now wasn't really the time.
"What do we do?" It took Flick a moment to realize it had been Scout who asked the question.
"I—I don't know." Flick stammered. This had to be a prank or something, right? Except that didn't make any sense given what she was witnessing. No, it'd be best to take this at face value for now.
"Hang on a minute." Sands squinted, before rising and making her way to one of the graves. Flick and Scout were close behind.
"This name," Sands said, pointing at the grave. "I recognize it. That's Jazz's name." She moved the next grave over. "And this is Malcolm."
"Our classmates?" Flick guessed. A chill ran down her back when Sands nodded.
Flick took a few deeps breaths before she could get myself under control. "Alright," she said. "There's no point in staying here. There has to be an exit somewhere, right?"
"T-there has to be," Sands said. "You lead?"
She didn't want to, exactly, but sure. Why not? They started walking, rows upon rows of graves seeming to follow them. How large was this place?
After a few minutes of walking, Flick got her answer. They had reached the end of the graveyard, though the sight beyond wasn't exactly encouraging.
The field continued to stretch on for what seemed like miles. Not that it mattered, since a chain link fence blocked their path, far too tall to climb.
"This is a joke," Sands whispered. "It has to be."
Flick was so focused on the gate, that she felt, more than saw, Scout stiffen behind her.
"Down!" Scout shouted. The sudden yell nearly made Flick jump into the air, but the warning registered just in time, and she threw herself to the ground alongside Scout.
Sands wasn't so lucky, and the wave of fire that Flick and Scout had narrowly avoided collided directly with her chest, knocking her off her feet with a scream.
"Sands!" Flick yelled. She scrambled to check on her friend, only to stop when a gun barrel was pressed against her forehead. Her eyes widened, and she slowly raised her hands above her head.
On the other end of the barrel was an outlandishly dressed figure. She looked like something straight out of a cartoon, with her black, skin tight suit, and a cape of the same color billowing behind her. To top off the ridiculous outfit was a black military helmet.
"Now what might this be?" the woman pondered. Wait a minute. Flick recognized that voice.
"Ms. Charmeine?!" Sands blurted before she could. The girl gasped after saying that, clutching her stomach. Seeing this, Scout supported her, clutching her sister's shoulder while both girls stayed on their knees.
"You're intruding on my domain," Charmeine growled. It was then that Flick got a look at her eyes. They were glowing yellow.
And she still had a pistol pressed against Flick's forehead.
"I know you kids have no functional brains in those thick skulls of yours," Charmeine continued. "But to come here? To risk my wrath?" She tutted. "That was a mistake."
Two figures came out of the shadows behind her, identical in appearance. Liches. They looked like fucking liches, wearing creepy cloaks and skeleton masks. That, and they were carrying scythes. What the hell was going on?
Blessedly, Charmeine pulled the gun away from Flick's forehead. She glanced over at Sands, whose face was still scrunched up in pain.
"Of course it would be you who stumbled your way in here."
"W-what are you talking about?" Sands grunted. "Why are you dressed like that? What sort of sick joke is this?"
Charmeine shook her head, giving Sands the sort of look a disappointed parent would have. "Do your questions ever stop? Your curiosity is far too dangerous to leave unchecked. Was getting you kicked off the Philosophy Club not enough?"
Sands' eyes widened. "That was you?"
"Of course." Charmeine scoffed. "What did you think would happen, sticking your nose into places where it doesn't belong?"
What were they talking about? Had Sands done something to piss off Charmeine? Is that why she had brought them to this . . . whatever it was?
"You're crazy," Sands said. "You're . . . you're actually fucking nuts."
Flick didn't have time to react before Charmeine lunged forward, striking Sands across the face hard enough that the crack echoed throughout the graveyard. Scout blurted her name, fumbling to check over her now collapsed sister.
Charmeine turned to her bodyguards, or whatever they were. "Kill them."
What?! Flick bolted to her feet, putting herself between the twins and the psycho bitch. What she was planning, not even she knew. But they were her first real friends since Miranda. She couldn't let them die!
Charmeine scowled at her. "Who the hell are you? Oh, right, the new transfer. You chose your new school poorly, girl. Even if you didn't die here, you would just die with the rest of them at the end of the month."
Flick didn't need to be a reporter in training to know what Charmeine was implying. That she was one only made the meaning behind Charmeine's words even more obvious.
"You," Flick gasped. "You're going to kill everyone at the school?! How—wha—are you insane?"
Of course she was. That much was obvious by now. Flick glared at the woman, for all the good it would do.
"No one," Charmeine hissed, "stand their ground against me with a look on their face like that and survives!" An explosion rang out following her words. No, not an explosion. A gunshot. Flick looked down toward the hole in her side, blood pouring from it onto her clothes and the ground. It didn't seem real.
Except it was, if the pain was anything to go by. Flick fell to her knees with a scream, the wound burning.
"Flick!" The shout came from both Sands and Scout.
"Finish them!" Charmeine snapped. "Wipe away all traces of their defiance."
Flick closed her eyes. It couldn't end like this. Could it?
"This is truly an unjust game." The voice rang through Flick's head, light and feminine. Her eyes remained closed, but she still saw a shape fluttering before her. A butterfly? "Your chances of winning are almost none. But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you."
Flick opened her eyes. Any chance. She would take it.
"What is this?" Another female voice, though this one sounded mature and amused. "You're not simply going to let corruption like this stand, are you?"
"No," Flick whispered. "I can't.
"That's what I thought." With those words, Flick's head felt as though it had cracked open. A pain unlike any she had felt before slammed down on her skull. She screamed.
"Those in power lie for their own gain, smother the truth you so desperately seek. They get away with countless, awful deeds." The words rang through her mind, overriding even her own screams. The pain only seemed to increase though, her whole body screaming in agony. Flick gripped the grass beneath her, eyes nearly bulging out of her head, as her shouts continued to rage on.
"The corruption that comes with power cannot stand! Rise up and fight against it with your own, true strength!"
With each word, the pain in Flick's skull only got worse. Despite that, she climbed to her feet, stumbling a step forward.
"What are you doing?" Charmeine demanded. "Guardians, kill her now!"
Flames filled Flick's vision, and when they vanished, a mask had taken up her face. It was a simple thing; a gold, plastic oval hiding her nose and mouth, while still giving her room to breath.
"I am thou, thou art I." Flick's hands gripped the sides of it, tugging. The first pull did nothing. Neither did the second. It was as though the mask was part of her face. But Flick didn't stop. She only yanked harder.
"It's time to fight against the evil in the world. Even if such a task bounds thou for life!"
One last tug, and Flick tore the mask off with a bellow. A torrent of blood came loose from where it had once been, washing over the field.
At least, for a second. The instant the mask was free, Flick felt the power within her, and she couldn't help but smirk. Her eyes glew, and a blue fire spread across her face. Flick heard the voice—her Persona—cackling as the flame engulfed her.
Charmeine's cockiness from earlier was long gone. She scrambled back, eyes wide, practically throwing her guards in front of her.
As the flames faded, Flick could feel the changes. Her casual clothes were gone, replaced with what could be best described as a spy's outfit. A crimson jacket dress with gold buttons. Flat, lace-up boots which matched the dress and reached her knees. Golden leggings, the same color as both her mask and the silk gloves she now wore.
The changes were more than just physical. There was a connection to the being which loomed over them all, still shrouded in blue flames. Flick recognized it as the red and gold fox from the incident on the street. Now, it hovered in the air with a grin, at least twice as tall as Flick and wide enough to match the proportions of a normal fox. The Persona was surrounded by chains, which flowed around it as though they were always meant to be there.
All the pain Flick had felt before vanished, which she proved by rushing forward. Charmeine didn't have time to react before Flick kicked the gun out of her hand. It flew across the field, landing in the darkness.
"You know," Flick growled, glaring at Charmeine, "I'm real sick of people flaunting their power over me. Except you had to take it a step further. Well, if you think I'm going to let you kill my classmates, you're wrong. I'm done standing by while evil scours the world!"
Charmeine regained some of her composure, crossing her arms with a sneer. "Brave words, but they mean nothing. Guardians! No more delaying!"
The liches dissolved into puddles of black goo, then reformed into floating jack-o-lanterns.
"Watch what we can do when we fight back!" Flick exclaimed. "Sweep them off their feet! Kuma Lisa!"
By her command, Kuma Lisa unleashed Kouha on one of the jack-o-lanterns, killing it instantly. It dissolved into nothing.
Seeing its friend get destroyed, the second monster swiped at Flick. The blow stung, but it wasn't nearly enough to slow her down. If anything, it just put the creature within her range. A bladed staff materialized in her hand, and she swung. Once, twice, three times. The jack-o-lantern screamed and fell back.
That didn't mean much. With Kuma Lisa's encouragement in her ear, Flick unleashed another Kouha, finishing the monster before her.
In the silence that followed, Flick noticed Charmeine had fled. Dammit.
"Dude . . ." The hushed voice was Sands. "What was that?"
"I don't know for sure," Flick said, turning her way. "But we should try and escape while we have the chance. Can you stand?"
Sands nodded, though she grimaced as she rose, and Scout had to support her for a moment.
"I think that attack burned my stomach," Sands said through gritted teeth. "We may have to take it slowly."
Flick examined the new presence in her mind. "Maybe not." With a simple command, she had Kuma Lisa cast Dia on Sands. The girl immediately perked up with wide eyes.
"That thing can heal too?"
"Apparently," Flick said. "Now come on. Let's get moving.
"I doubt Charmeine has given up on killing us just yet."
A/N: For those wondering, Kuma Lisa is a fox in Bulgarian and Russian folklore, commonly playing the role of . . . the trickster. The opportunity was too good to pass up.
For now, Kouha and Dia are her only skills.