Summary: Despite a lifetime of feigning ignorance, deep down, Myra always knew that something about her wasn't...right.
Like a puzzle piece that didn't fit, a joke no one was in on, an abnormality that made even the world tilt its head in confusion, it always seemed like some freaky phenomenon was just waiting to sneak up on her when her back was turned.
Now, she's about to be proven right in the worst way possible.
Swallowed up and dumped into a universe with logic that would make Bill Nye weep in confusion, stuck with a power she doesn't understand, and burdened with a duty that she isn't prepared to take on, Myra will discover things about herself that she would have rather remained hidden for the rest of time.
And to top all that off, there's this trigger-happy teenager with a bizarre illness whose only goal in life seems to be to make Myra's just a little more difficult.
Chapter One: Marya
"You'll not take her…"
"You'll not take her…" Mumbled the woman with glazed eyes. Her fingers strangled the handle of the black blade such that her bruised, sweaty knuckles turned white. Though her arm shook violently as it held the weapon aloft, the swarm of shadows lingered in hesitation.
One moment, there was chilling silence. The next, a piercing scream tore through the air.
The shadows rapidly scattered, startled by the wails of agony coming from the outsider. The woman dug the blade into the ground as her opposite hand clutched her swollen abdomen. Her body arched away from the cold, hard stone as she threw her head back with a shrill cry. Tears escaped from her clouded eyes as a soft, broken mutter passed through her lips,
"Ansem… Ansem…"
"Myra, this stupid register froze again!" Shouted the redhead standing at the podium, acrylic nails tapping irritated patterns into the granite. Ignorant to the growing aggravation of its user, the register display remained suspended in an amalgamation of the 'sales' and the 'manager functions' screens. "Myra!" Repeated the redhead upon receiving no response.
"I hear you, stop yelling across the restaurant." The woman in question finally replied, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "Shit!" The redhead jumped in surprise, one hand flying to rest over her heart.
The two women looked at each other, one with wariness, the other with faint confusion. "Good lord girl, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack!" The former exclaimed. "I wasn't the one shouting loud enough for the people next door to hear, Arista." The latter countered with a quirked brow. Arista huffed and waved her hand in disregard. "Whatever, whatever, just fix the register." Without a word, Myra slid in to take Arista's spot by the podium. She had barely touched the register's screen before Arista let out yet another squawk of outrage. "Steven didn't put all the chairs up again! Oh, when I see that boy again, I swear I'm gonna-"
Myra ignored her manger's angry rambling as she pulled out the keyboard to commence a forced restart on the register. Arista stomped by lugging about four chairs as she tended the register, accidentally hitting the decorative paperweight as she passed. Without looking away from the screen, Myra reached out to steady it.
The disgruntled manager returned not two minutes later, once again gathering up as many chairs as she could. As she passed the podium, Myra spotted one of the chair legs coming right for the register out of her peripherals. Hand shooting out, she managed to lift the leg of the chair just so that it passed over the head of the register rather than ramming directly into it. Myra paused only to roll her eyes before refocusing on her task.
She had barely convinced the register to shut down and reset when Arista came trudging by yet again, cursing as she fumbled with the infernal chairs. This time, the redhead had stacked them in such a way that when she walked by the podium, the back of one nearly clocked Myra in the head. Saving herself with a quick duck, Myra allowed herself to shoot an incredulous glance at her manager's retreating form. "Arista, would you mind walking a bit further away from me when you're carrying five chairs at once?" She deadpanned. Arista turned around with wide eyes, as if she'd forgotten that Myra was even there. "Oh, sorry 'bout that, honey. I'm just a little high-strung right now. We should'a finished closing this place up ten minutes ago."
"I'm aware." Replied Myra, fixing her eyes back on the register's screen as it flared to life. "How's the register comin' along?" Arista inquired, approaching the podium to peer over Myra's shoulder. "It'll be up and running in the next few minutes."
"Hm, good." The redhead gave the register a dirty look. "That's the third time this week that this hunk a' junk spazzed out on me. I'm about ready to chuck it through the window of the Apple store across the street!" Myra gave a bare hint of a smile. "Well, aren't you the epitome of professionalism." Arista ranted on, as if she hadn't even heard her coworker's comment. "Well, I've been tellin' your mama to replace the damn thing for months now! But every time I bring it up, she comes back with, 'oh, well, I could ask Jung Soo to look at it,' and I tell her, 'NO Estelle, I want you to actually sit your ass down at your husband's fancy computer rig and order a new register!' Then she looks at me like I'm losin' my goddamn mind! Now don't get me wrong, you now how much I love your mama, but lord, that woman knows how to test me!"
Myra followed her boss' passionate rant with an eloquent shrug. "These things aren't cheap, and Estelle's always been a penny pincher. She won't replace the register unless she has no choice." Arista groaned, pushing a couple stray dreadlocks out of her face. "Maybe I'll 'accidentally' ram Steven's head through it. Then she'll have to get a new one!" Myra snorted. "I'm sure the jail time would be worth it." She remarked dryly. "Don't you give me that!" Arista declared, wagging a finger in her coworker's face. "I haven't forgotten about the time that you 'accidentally' cut one of the gas lines in that crappy old oven, forcing Estelle to get us a new one!"
"That was completely different," Myra replied without missing a beat. "That piece of shit was ruining the quality of our food. I just did what I had to." As she started to walk away, her manager called out, "Hey, go make sure Denny's finishing up his tasks before you clock out!" Myra gave a thumbs up, but didn't turn to acknowledge Arista, leaving the redhead to sigh. "That girl, I swear. Can never tell if she's jokin' or not when she talks like that."
The kitchen doors swung open to reveal a man hunched over a deep sink, scrubbing away at its sides. "Is that your last task?" Asked Myra, coming up behind him. The man, Denny, turned briefly to acknowledge her. "Oh yeah, I'm about done." He yanked the stopper out of the sink to emphasize his point. "Did you finish prep?" Myra asked over the gurgling sink. "A-yup." Denny replied with an exaggerated nod, popping the 'p.' Gesturing towards the walk-in refrigerator, he added, "You can go check if you want." Myra waved the offer away. "That's okay. Did you clean the bake case?" Rather than look affronted by her questions, Denny gave a proud smile and said, "I sure did."
"And you dusted under the bar?" Affirmed Myra. She watched as the smile slipped off his face. "…Drat." Denny muttered before making a beeline for the broom closet. A lightly amused smile tugged at Myra's lips as she approached the task sheet hanging on the bulletin board to sign off on her own tasks for the day. "How the heck do you always remember what tasks I have?" Asked a bemused Denny as he walked past with a handful of dusting cloths. "Probably because I write up the task sheets, Denny." She replied without turning around. "Oh…hehe, that's right." Her coworker admitted with a sheepish grin. Myra gently returned it as she said, "You should finish with the bar and clock out before Arista kicks you out."
"Aye, sir!" Denny acknowledged with a mock salute before exiting the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, Myra peeked around the corner. "I knew he'd leave it open." She sighed, making her way around to the broom closet.
The sour scent of disinfectant and medical supplies hit her nose as she approached the ajar door. Reaching for it, she absently looked down-
Myra jumped back with a sharp gasp, pressing herself against the wall behind her.
She blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
Taking a tentative step forward, Myra searched the closet's floor with her eyes. Nothing was there.
Swinging the door shut, she sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm.
The stress was finally getting to her. Sure, that was it.
Myra walked with haste out of the kitchen, hesitating only a moment when flipping the lights off. It only took her a moment of reflection to convince herself that she most definitely hadn't just seen a large, bug-like black creature in the broom closet.
"Incoming!" Came the sudden voice of her boss. Myra snapped to attention, just barely managing to step out of the way as Arista barreled by with two chairs occupying one arm, and the register drawer in the other. "You go ahead and clock out, Myra. I just need to count the till, then I can take ya' on home." The redhead advised as she kicked open the office door and slipped inside. Myra gave a flat "okay" in response, not really caring if Arista heard or not.
After clocking out, she noticed Denny still behind the bar. Though she couldn't see him, the telltale sound of bottles and glasses clanking together as they were moved around gave his presence away. "About done?" Inquired Myra as she approached, leaning over the bar top. The top half of Denny's body was sheathed inside the bar, so his voice was muffled when he replied, "That I am!" He emerged from beneath the counter, pushing his chestnut curls out of his face.
"I, uh," Denny began, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "I had to kind of…clean around everything. I thought taking everything out would take too long. Sorry I didn't do it like you prefer."
Rather than comment on his concerns, Myra said, "I'm not your superior, Denny. You don't have to treat me like I am just because my parents own this place."
Denny rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, you're right. But still, you've been working here since you were, what, sixteen? And you've been training with Mrs. Estelle for even longer than that. You may not officially be the boss, but you basically have the same status as one around here." He paused amidst wiping the bar top. "Don't tell Ms. Arista I said that."
Myra didn't return his teasing grin. Instead, she turned around and crossed her arms as she leaned against the bar. "By the way…did you see anything weird in the broom closet when you were in there?" Denny blinked, taken aback by the change of subject. "Uh…no? Don't think I did. Why, did you?"
Shoulders slumping, Myra said, "Never mind." Denny frowned in confusion, but allowed her to drop the subject.
The two were treated to a mere five seconds of quiet. Then-
"Denny! Boy, what are you still doing here!? Get outta here, we've already gone over payroll!" Barked a haggard-looking Arista as she fumbled with her keys. "Sorry, boss!" Denny replied with nervous laughter before making himself scarce.
"Myra, you get your stuff and go on out to my car, I'll be there just as soon as I lock up." The redhead sighed. With no verbal reply, Myra obeyed.
While making her way to Arista's parking spot, she found her gaze drawn to the night sky. As far back as she could remember, there hadn't been a single night that she hadn't caught herself looking up at. Sometimes, it almost felt as if something physically pulled her to stare upwards into the night.
Myra couldn't say why she did it. It wasn't as if there was anything interesting to look at up there, especially in the middle of downtown Dallas, where nary a star was visible.
She especially couldn't explain the puzzling melancholy she always felt when no stars were out.
A heavy sigh interrupted Myra's musings. "Alright, baby doll. Let's call it a night." Arista unlocked her hot pink Volkswagen Beetle, allowing them to climb in. Myra's nose scrunched in mild aggravation as the manager turned on her music, "I won't say I'm in love" from Hercules blasting through the speakers. She'd never understood Arista's obsession with Disney music, but Myra refrained from complaining.
They drove in companionable silence, both too exhausted for conversation. Over the next half hour, Myra watched out the window as the skyscrapers and neon lights of downtown changed into individual homes and narrow roads of the suburbs. Her phone buzzed a couple of times, but she ignored it.
They soon pulled into a gated community and up to a moderate two-story home. The humid night air greeted Myra as she stepped out of Arista's car. Though it was only May, the weather had already begun warming significantly, making her curse Texas for its love of the heat.
"Thanks for the ride, Arista." Said Myra. "No problem, honey. You tell your mama I said hello!" The redhead replied with a tired grin. Myra had barely started turning around when her manager called out, "Oh hey, you're leavin' tomorrow, right?" When she nodded, Arista let out a groan. "Great, Monday's gonna be a hell on earth."
"I'll only be gone for a few days. You'll survive." Myra placated with a wry smile. Arista waved her off with a huff. "Yeah, yeah. Just get goin' already, have a safe trip, honey." She had barely uttered "Goodnight," in return before Arista was speeding off, the Beetle's tail lights disappearing down the street.
Upon entering the house, Myra was greeted by the sight of her younger brother, Charlie – who was acting as their home's resident couch potato, as usual.
"Ew, you're home?" Drawled the teenager, keeping his gaze fixed on his video game. "Ew, you still haven't moved from that spot? I'm surprised your ass hasn't fused with the cushions yet." Myra countered, shooting her brother a withering glare. "Yeah well, I'm surprised that you still haven't bothered to pull that stick out of your own ass." Charlie shot back. "And I'M surprised that Kelsey is still dating you, considering that fact that you yourself are a huge ass."
It was this comment that finally drew her brother's attention, and Myra smirked in amusement as he scowled at her. She then headed for the kitchen, giving a mighty roll of her eyes when Charlie called out his favorite and most unoriginal insult: "You're adopted!"
"I'm aware." Myra yelled back, unimpressed.
Estelle was sitting at the kitchen table, several accounting books spread out in front of her. When her daughter entered the kitchen, she eyed her with relief. "Dios mio, you're finally home! I was starting to get worried! Did you not get my texts?" Myra set her purse and bag on the table as she replied, "I didn't look at them yet." Estelle furrowed her brows, looking mildly displeased, but didn't push the topic. Instead, she turned her attention to the large take out bag on the table. "Is that all of the leftovers tonight?" When Myra nodded, Estelle sighed in relief. "Good. We don't have much room in the fridge left." Digging through the bag, Myra pulled out a plastic container to show her mother. "We even had a slice of tiramisu left." Estelle's brow arched in surprise. "Really? I can't remember the last time we didn't sell out of that before noon!"
"Yeah, especially when I make it." Teased Myra as she started shoving the other leftovers into the fridge. "Excuse me!? And who exactly taught you how to make tiramisu in the first place, huh?" Estelle chided, gesturing at her daughter with a pen. "Andrew Rea." Myra responded without missing a beat.
She then had to duck in order to avoid being struck in the head with the pen.
"Oh, Hija, you're asking for it!" Estelle bellowed, trying to appear angry, but the amused twinkle in her eye gave her away. Allowing herself a light chuckle, Myra held up her hands in surrender. "I'm kidding, Estelle, I'm kidding." Her mother let out a huff. "For your own good, you had better be!" A light peal of laughter passed between them. "I'm gonna take this to Jung Soo before Charlie finds it." Said Myra, picking up the tiramisu. "Good luck getting his attention, he's been holed up in his office all day." Replied Estelle as she turned her attention back to the accounting books. "I have my ways." Myra called as she rounded the corner that would lead to her father's office.
Not bothering to knock, she swung open the door of the dark room. The only light source in the office was coming from the two monitors, the outline of Jung Soo's hunched form in front of them. Suppressing the urge to sigh, Myra flipped on the overhead light. Her father shouted in protest, forehead hitting the desk as he covered his face.
"How many times have I told you to keep a light on in here while you're working? Your eyes are barely functioning as it is." She scolded, approaching Jung Soo's desk. "Aish, this girl…she wants to kill me. I take her in, and this is how she repays me?" The man lamented through pitiful groans. "You're being dramatic, abeoji." Sighed Myra as she rubbed her father's back. Though Estelle had told her as much, it was obvious that Jung Soo hadn't left his office in quite a while; the desk was littered with a half empty mug of coffee, open packages of beef jerky and chips, and several stacks of papers.
"Here, I brought you this from the restaurant." Jung Soo warily looked up, expression pulling a complete 180 upon seeing his daughter's offering. He sat up with a grin, half-hazardly adjusting his glasses as he snatched the plastic container from her hand. Upon opening it, Jung Soo gave the treat a hardy whiff, much to his daughter's chagrin. "Ah yes, the good stuff! You are forgiven!"
"Yippee." Myra replied sarcastically. Her eyes slid to the monitors, taking a moment to study the compilation of photos displayed on the screen. "Is this for the church?" She asked. "Oh, yes." Replied Jung Soo through a mouthful of tiramisu. Thankfully, he swallowed before elaborating. "These are all from the mission trip to Chile they did recently. Pastor Kim asked me to put together a presentation to show in the service tomorrow."
"And…you're only just working on it now?" Myra deadpanned. "Hehe…well, you know how busy I am…" Her father replied sheepishly. "C'mon, abeoji. Don't make me organize your files again." Jung Soo looked at her in horror. "No, no! The last time you did that, I couldn't find anything!"
"And that is exactly the issue here." Myra teased as she exited the office, ignoring her father's calls to turn off the light.
She made her way to the staircase, intending to retreat to her room for the night, but was stopped by her mother. "Eat something before you go to sleep mi Hija, you have a long day tomorrow!" Before Myra could protest, Charlie's head popped around the corner. "You should make eggplant calzones! I've been craving them for days." Estelle made a shooing gesture at her son. "Your sister has to leave early tomorrow mi Hijo, leave her be!" Charlie's face fell in soft disappointment before it set into a pout. "Fine, whatever." Rolling her eyes at her brother's dramatics, Myra said, "I'll make them for you when I come back."
"Woo! Calzones, baby!" Charlie cheered from the other room. Estelle tutted as she dragged her eldest to back to the kitchen, ignoring her pleas of "I'm not hungry."
"You're too soft on him, Myra. If you keep making whatever he asks you for at the drop of a hat, he'll never learn to cook for himself!"
"…You'd get up in the middle of the night and bake him a three-tier cake if he asked you." Countered Myra in a flat tone. Estelle scoffed, waving at her daughter dismissively. "I'm his mama, that's my job! You're his big sister, you're supposed to bug him and get on his case about everything!"
"I can do all that, and spoil him when I feel like it. I'm talented like that." Myra drawled with an exaggerated smile. "Don't let your head get too big, Hija." Estelle replied with a huff of exasperation. Before Myra could respond, one of the leftover boxes she'd brought home that night was shoved into her hands. "Take this food upstairs with you, and don't try to be sneaky and 'accidentally' leave it in the bathroom again! I will sit in your room and watch you eat every bite if I have to!" Estelle ordered, wagging her finger for emphasis. Myra turned so her mother wouldn't see the irritation on her face. "If you wouldn't feed me inhuman amounts of food all the time, I wouldn't have to 'accidentally' leave it in the bathroom."
"You're thin as a twig! You need all the food you can get!" Her mother countered. "You've been saying that since I was seven years old, Estelle!" Myra refuted as she started making her way upstairs. "So put on some damn weight already!" Estelle yelled up at her. With a hard sigh, Myra let the subject drop, lacking the energy to continue arguing.
Halfway up the stairs, her attention was caught by Estelle's display of decorative crosses hanging on the wall. Mouth pursing in mild irritation, she reached out to adjust the large wooden one, which had gone crooked for (probably) the fifty-seventh time that week. Her eyes slid over the wall to ensure none of the other crosses had gone askew, and in doing so, her gaze inevitably fell on the family portrait in the center of the display.
In the photo stood a small Hispanic woman, smiling at the camera with a stiff, but caring expression. Next to her was a Korean man, barely two inches taller than his wife, with a grin both wide and genuine. Between them stood a teenage boy, shooting the camera a slightly disgruntled expression. He was a handsome mix of both his parents, blessed with his mother's caramel skin and his father's eyes. Finally, to the left of the family, sitting down to obscure the fact that she was taller than all of them, was her – the odd ball of the family, her lack of biological relation to the other three that occupied the portrait painfully obvious. Next to the family of dark-haired, dark-eyed individuals, Myra was a fair-skinned barbie doll of a girl, with bright blonde hair and everything.
...Charlie would probably say she had the same dead-eyed expression of one, too.
After considering the portrait a moment more, Myra passed by to climb the rest of the steps to her room.
Being adopted had never particularly bothered her; it was more of an annoyance than anything when people met them and pointed out the obvious, as if they hadn't heard the same comments time and time again.
Trudging tiredly into her room, Myra kicked off her shoes and slumped down at her desk. She set the box of food down to be ignored for the time being, instead turning her attention to her laptop. All her required tabs were still open, as they had been for the past week. She first perused through her email, stopping at a message from her university, which soon revealed itself to be an invitation to her graduation ceremony. She typed a short reply back confirming her attendance before opening the files to her entrance and scholarship applications.
Myra spent the next half hour triple-checking everything: transcripts, proof of vaccinations, and recommendation letters, all filled out, organized, and backed up to three different sources. Satisfied, Myra paused to stretch out her sore muscles before reaching for her packed bag.
Come early tomorrow morning, she would be leaving town to pay a visit to the University of North Texas in hopes of pursuing a Master's degree in business. Though Estelle had hoped she'd return to Baylor, where she'd completed her undergrad, Myra had decided she wanted to move further away from home for a while.
She couldn't rely on her parents forever, after all.
Unfortunately, her car was in the shop being worked on. Both parents were too busy to take her, and she couldn't very well deprive them of their one shared car for several days. Estelle had suggested she ask Arista, but the manager had already been kind enough to drive her home from work every night for the past week, so Myra felt bad asking the redhead to take her all the way to Denton.
So, she was resigned to the use of public transportation. With that in mind, she grabbed her phone to double-check her tickets and re-familiarize herself with the annoying mishmash of buses and trains she would be taking. It would take roughly three and a half hours to reach the university on her route, where four days of campus tours, meetings, and interviews would be waiting for her.
With that, Myra set to work to finish packing for the trip ahead of her. Her large travel bag was already filled with all the clothing, toiletries, and basic self-care products she'd need, so she focused her attention on other necessities. Aside from the long commutes to and from the university, the Wi-Fi at her cousin's apartment (where she'd be staying in between business) was nearly nonexistent, so Myra made sure she had plenty of movies and music downloaded on her phone and laptop so she wouldn't eat up a shit ton of data when trying to entertain herself. She packed several portable chargers that she'd swiped from her father's office, knowing Jung Soo likely wouldn't miss them, then stuffed her encased laptop into the bag.
"Think that's everything…" Myra mumbled thoughtfully, checking her things one last time to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything.
Without her consent, she found her gaze being drawn to her bedside drawer. Then, without really thinking about it, she approached and opened that very drawer to fish out a worn notebook.
It had been…a while since she'd written in this notebook, or even thumbed through it. Continuing her nonsensical, subconscious actions, Myra flipped the notebook to a random page.
Dream Log 36. December 9th, 2012.
I saw a big, bright room. I couldn't tell what it was used for, though. I remember feeling anxious. There was a group of men there, and they were talking about an attack of some kind. Maybe a war? The faces of most of the men were blurry, except for one of them. He had gray eyes and a long, brown ponytail-
Myra closed the notebook with a sigh. Now she remembered why she hadn't picked up the notebook in a while. Memories of a silly teenage girl wasting her hours away on obscure websites looking for theories and answers, believing that her strange dreams actually meant something, to the point that she wrote diligently in a "dream journal" almost every day.
Myra was past all that now. It was time to stop chasing after seemingly supernatural visions and phenomena, and start being an adult in the real world.
With that thought in mind, Myra plugged her phone into its charger, made sure her alarm was set, and rolled over to get a few hours of sleep before she had to head out.
As she lay still in the dark of her room, Myra allowed herself to sink into the all-too-familiar numbness that always visited her before she fell asleep. It was a bizarre sensation that she'd never dared share with anyone.
Like she was a tube of toothpaste that had been squeezed to death until none of its contents remained, Myra felt void of any and all sentiments.
She hated it.
Or at least, she was pretty sure she did. Who wouldn't hate being a human equivalent to a plank of wood? Sometimes, it made her wonder that if something terrible were to happen…if some entity were to come and swallow her up, taking her away from everything she's ever known and loved, would she even care?
Myra blinked in the darkness. Then, with a heavy sigh, she burrowed further beneath her blankets and forced herself to focus on nothing but sleep.
"I really need to stop having these weird thoughts all the time…"
She was falling through what seemed to be both sky and ocean. Although she could breathe just fine, the air around her rippled as if she were underwater. When she forced her heavy eyes open, she saw the silhouette of a woman above her.
" Into the skies…"
Slowly, a pair of dark wings stretched out from behind the woman. But they didn't look like angel wings. They were more like…the wings of a bird.
"…we will rise,"
Her environment was changing as she fell down, down, down. A cacophony of blinding orange, gold, and red turned into dark, but beautiful, violet and navy.
"You do not belong-"
Belong? Where do I not belong?
"Is any of this for real? Or not?"
Come back.
It's time to come back.
You do not belong there.
Come back.
COME BACK.
COmE baCK-
The blaring of her alarm yanked Myra's consciousness back from oblivion. She fumbled around for her phone to silence it, then slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position.
Another bizarre dream. But that was nothing new.
Shaking it off, Myra forced herself out of bed to grab the change of clothes she'd laid out the night before. She stumbled tiredly down the hall to the bathroom, cringing when her bare feet touched the cold tile floor.
"Why is it so chilly in here?" Myra mumbled as she reached for the light switch – only for the room to remain pitch black after she'd flipped it.
"What the-"
She tried the switch again, but yielded the same results. "Oh, come on. The power's out!? You have gotta be shitting me."
However, Myra's theory proved to be correct upon trying the hall light, which also didn't come on. "Dammit." She cursed, trudging back to her room so she could grab her phone. It was 5:34, she'd already begun wasting time she didn't have. Grumbling under her breath, Myra turned on her phone's flashlight and set it on the counter, illuminating the bathroom so that she could just barely make everything out.
After brushing her teeth and taking care of her business, she turned on the shower, not bothering to wait for it to warm up before hopping in. Hissing at the freezing water as it pelted against her skin, Myra got to work scrubbing away the restaurant smell from the night before.
As she washed, something else unusual drew her attention: the walls of the shower stuck out to her in a puzzling sense that they weren't sticking out like they should. The tile somehow appeared…flatter, with less detail than it should have. The ceiling above her had the same problem. Everything looked too clean, too basic.
Myra groaned, smacking herself on the forehead. She didn't have time to be pondering the bathroom walls like some maniac! The power was out and she was tired, whatever it was she thought she was seeing was probably just her imagination.
Finishing her shower with haste, Myra exited the bathroom in fresh clothes, yanking a brush through her hair as she rushed back to her room. Her blonde locks remained unwashed and dry, as she didn't have the time nor electricity to blow dry them.
After putting on shoes and grabbing her backpack, she started down the stairs as quickly as she could while still using her phone's flashlight to avoid tripping. Despite telling herself to ignore it, Myra couldn't help but look up at her mother's display as she passed it.
The family portrait was still there, unchanged as far as she could tell, but the crosses surrounding it were…strange. Hadn't those been more decorated before?
Making her way through the house, a faint nervousness crawled up her throat as she noticed similar problems nearly everywhere she looked.
A wall that looked too bare.
A table that looked too empty.
Furniture that should look well-worn and covered with various objects suddenly looked brand new and lifeless, as if they'd never been used before. And there was one other thing-
"Why…is it so dark in here?" Myra whispered, checking her phone. It was 6:03. Even if the power was out, she should have started seeing the beginnings of sunlight pouring through the curtains. But it was pitch black without her phone light. Not only that, but upon closer inspection, she realized that her phone itself had no service.
Shuddering from a combination of nerves and the odd chill in the air, Myra made her way to the kitchen. Despite the strange occurrences happening around her, an automatic thought that Estelle would have her hide if she left without eating anything pushed her forward.
However, that was the last instance of any normal thoughts breaking through, because the refrigerator was empty.
So was the freezer.
And the pantry.
And Myra was left standing stock-still in the middle of the kitchen because she now knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was wrong.
With this realization, the blonde rushed to her parent's room, not caring if they got mad at her for waking them. She threw open the door, shining her flashlight inside, but-
Her parent's room was empty, their bed looking clean and untouched.
A different kind of chill raced up Myra's spine, and she booked it to her brother's room, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. With trembling hands, she threw open Charlie's bedroom door, only to be greeted with a similar sight.
"Wha…wh-" Myra stuttered. She didn't attempt to call out for them, because a part of her just somehow knew they wouldn't answer.
Her family was gone.
"What is happening…?" Panted Myra as she stumbled back, bracing herself against the wall.
What, indeed.
Was she still dreaming?
As desperately as she wanted to cling to that explanation, she knew it to be false. Not only did nothing about her current state feel like a dream, but as long as she could remember, Myra had never once dreamed about anything or anyone in her own life. That was the whole reason why she once thought her dreams meant something.
"Come back. Come back."
She recalled those words being chanted in her most recent dream. What had that meant? The voice seemed to have been speaking to her, which was another oddity, as in her usual dreams, she often saw or heard people talking to each other, but never to her.
Exactly what had happened during her dream?
Had it even been a dream?
While she mused, Myra realized that her feet had subconsciously brought her to the front door, where she stood stiffly for several tense moments.
She…she had to leave. She had to go out. Myra knew this, and yet…a deep seeded sense of foreboding kept her rooted to the spot.
Once she opened this door, everything would change…somehow.
She had never been great with change, but…life hadn't exactly given her a choice in this case.
Slowly, cautiously, Myra reached up to touch the door knob, and she flinched. It was cold as ice. Nevertheless, she forced her fingers to wrap around the knob and swallowed a mouthful of cotton as she turned it. The fact that it was not locked, and the absence of the security system's usual beeping whenever the front door opened was not lost on her. Myra pushed it open, and-
Numbing shock slammed into her such that her legs gave out and she couldn't even muster up a scream.
It was not her neighborhood that she saw outside her door.
Rather, it seemed as though oblivion itself had come to greet her.
The sky above was purple with black clouds that formed twisting vine and finger-like patterns that loomed over the land. The dark, barren ground was covered in cracks that seemed to glow with an eerie blue light. There were no buildings in sight, nor any kind of living being that she could see. It was like she'd been dropped into a pre-creation era world, where there was nothing but darkness and a thin layer of earth.
…And her house, apparently.
Myra sat catatonically on her front porch, jaw unhinged and eyes set in unblinking horror. Her bag slipped from her shoulders, and the sound of it hitting the ground was so startling to her frayed nerves, that she bolted away from the porch on pure reflex.
Myra clutched at her chest, heart pounding frantically as she scrambled for breath. Her head was blank, her limbs were numb, and all she could do was stand there on shaky legs and fight the tempting option to faint, because only god knew what may happen to her if she lost consciousness in a place like this.
A strange whoosh made Myra snap her head up, and she released a strangled cry at what she saw there.
A small, black thing had appeared in front of her.
She hadn't the slightest clue how to accurately label it; the thing was hunched over in a gorilla-like pose, its hands almost touching the ground. Its shape was vaguely human-like, but it had two bug-like antennas on its round head. Most disturbing of all, the thing had no face, just two beady yellow eyes that were staring at her.
Myra soon recognized it as the same thing she'd seen in the broom closet at her mother's restaurant.
The thing wandered closer, making her jump back with her arms up in some poor attempt to defend herself. The little thing tilted its head a full ninety degrees, and though it didn't have the necessary features to truly emote, it seemed to be eyeing her curiously.
In any other situation, Myra might have found it cute.
But here, in this strange, unfamiliar place that she'd been tossed into without so much as a decent warning, it only terrified her.
The little creature attempted to approach her again, but Myra continued to back up. They repeated this dance several times, the thing sometimes almost reaching her, and she somehow managing to step out of its range last minute. The creature's movements were jerky and erratic, its head in particular never seeming to stay still.
Just as Myra was thinking about turning around and running as fast as she could, the thing suddenly stopped in its tracks.
Its entire body quivered excitedly. Then, Myra heard a soft, willowy voice whisper one word that would haunt her for the rest of her days,
"Heart..."
Though it had no mouth, she knew that voice had come from the little creature.
"Heart… Heart…"
Myra didn't paused to wonder what it meant, because then the voice multiplied.
"Heart... Hearts... Hearts..."
With cold blood and pale features, Myra turned to find a whole swarm of the creatures slowly closing in on her. "No…!" She wheezed, stumbling back. Her hands flew to her ears, but the chanting of the creatures had already worked its way into her mind.
Was this it? This was how she would die? In a strange world, by strange creatures, under strange circumstances? Was she dumped here just to be killed? Was she to meet her end without ever knowing what had happened to both herself and her family?
That sudden thought made Myra's blood freeze in her veins.
Her family…good god, what had happened to them!? Were they somewhere in this place too? Were they back on earth, still sleeping peacefully, none the wiser as to what was going on? Or had something even worse come to befall them?
A violent burst of energy exploded in her veins, spurred on by the unadulterated need to find her family.
She would not, she could not die until she knew they were alright.
Before her mind could even catch up, Myra found herself dashing forward with a shrill cry, and she leapt over the swarm. Her land was painful, but she paid the injury no mind, continuing to charge forward with no destination in mind.
Unfortunately, she didn't make it very far.
The creatures, for as small and frail as they looked, were unnaturally quick. To top it off, some of them melted into the ground and slithered across on their bellies, like a deformed shadow. One of them surged forward, and without anything else to possibly defend herself with, Myra threw out her hand, and-
Then she was falling.
Faster than the eye could blink, the world around her had disappeared, replaced by an endless black void.
Although she should have been terrified, every ounce of panic and fear that had ruled her only moments ago had suddenly vanished. The only thing she could feel was the wind rushing past her as she fell. As if some entity had snatched all her emotions from her at once, not even allowing her to scream as she plummeted to her death.
However, death never came. An unseen force slowed her body down before gently lowering her onto her feet. Looking down, Myra squinted as she took in what seemed to be a brilliant stained-glass window that she was standing on. The window featured a woman standing regally in its center, a woman with long brown hair…
But before she could study it any further, a different voice called out to her.
"Do you wish to protect your family?"
The voice was soft and feminine.
Myra blinked at the words. What kind of a question was that? Of course she wanted to protect her family!
"You cannot do it alone. You will need help." Called the voice.
If she could, Myra would have openly scoffed then. "No shit, sherlock." She mentally deadpanned.
The air around her vibrated strangely, as if it were amused. It tickled her face and neck, but she didn't laugh. It seemed as though she was incapable of speech in this place.
"Why do you say that? Are you offering?" Myra thought, assuming the voice could hear her.
The feeling in the air shifted again, this time going still. "…I am unable to help you directly as of this time." The voice murmured apologetically. Myra's shoulders fell in disappointment.
"However," The voice echoed again. "There is something I can offer you that can."
Myra arched a brow, as if asking the voice to elaborate.
"Though I must warn you…should you choose to accept my help, the days ahead will be most difficult for you. Likely more difficult than you have ever known."
An empty smile found its way to Myra's lips. "In this case, I'd say a difficult life is better than no life. Besides, I don't exactly have much of a choice, now do I? I don't know what's going on…not in the slightest. Hell, I don't know why I'm even trusting a literal disembodied voice to help me. All I want is to know that my family is safe. I can't do that if I'm dead."
A pregnant pause engulfed the area, the air flirting with the hairs on the back of her neck.
"…Very well." The voice uttered, breaking the silence. Its tone was somewhat resigned, but edged with a touch of…pride?
"Hold out your dominant hand." Robotically, Myra obeyed the voice's command.
Then, a blinding light erupted in front of her, making her squeeze her eyes shut. She felt something hard and rectangular pressing against her open palm, and she automatically wrapped her hand around it. However, the light behind her eyelids continued to grow, so she couldn't see what it was.
"This is…my…power…"
Myra heard the voice say, now sounding faint and disjointed.
"I will…lend it…to…you…"
She felt the environment melting away around her, and still, she mysteriously felt no fear.
"Be…strong…my-"
Whatever the voice had tried to say was lost to her, because suddenly, Myra was back in the strange realm, the swarm of shadowy creatures still surrounding her.
There was a strange hiss, then a tearing sound, forcing Myra to refocus her attention in front of her. She reeled back in astonishment, because the creature that had jumped at her was now impaled on the thing that had appeared in her hand. The horrendous sight was gone as quickly as it came, because the creature soon evaporated into nothing, and an actual bright red heart shot up into the sky.
The shadows were trembling around her, a very different chant now resounding in her head,
"Keyblade… Keyblade…"
Myra did not get a moment to ponder what in the hell a 'keyblade' was, nor what she had seen happen to the creature she'd just killed, because the swarm attacked her with a new sense of vigor-
And Myra could only marvel internally as her body moved.
The next thing she knew, she was stabbing, lunging, slashing at the creatures with movements she didn't know she was physically capable of, finesse she'd never acquired, and skill she'd never learned.
Myra almost felt as though she was having a bizarre out-of-body experience, because logically, there was no way she, who had never fought, never held a real weapon, and never trained in any kind of combat was capable of the feats she found herself pulling off.
Every time one of the creatures popped up in front of her, she would effortlessly leap out of the way. Whenever they ganged up on her and she thought for sure they'd land a hit, her body would twist into some elaborate dodge before the arm wielding her new weapon would swing around and end them. Sometimes her body would simply react out of nowhere, spinning around suddenly to kill one attempting a sneak attack, even though Myra had absolutely not seen it coming.
As if something had possessed her body-
As if she were a puppet on invisible strings-
As if she were a character in a video game being controlled by an unknown player-
Myra knew that none of these movements were entirely her own.
With a grunt, she swung her weapon down onto the last creature, watching it disintegrate into nothing. For several long moments, she stood where she was, panting excessively as she tried to gather her bearings. Experimentally, she tried flexing her fingers, sighing in relief when they responded accordingly.
Then, with a trembling arm, Myra slowly raised her gift from the mysterious voice.
In her hand was the most bizarre weapon she'd ever seen. It had the general shape of a sword, but only from the hilt and partly upwards. Instead of a pointed tip, the top of the blade was curved into the form of a bird's head, its beak jutting out in the shape of a sickle. The entire weapon was black, aside from the jewel eye of the bird, which was a deep crimson. It was too dark for Myra to make out the details of the blade, but aside from a sword, its overall shape also kind of reminded her of a-
Myra's body leapt back on reflex at the sudden whooshing sound, and she watched in horror as a mass of black, shadowy tendrils began to take shape in front of her.
She expected, perhaps, a giant version of the creatures from earlier, but to her surprise, what formed before her was something else entirely.
This shadow was indeed larger than the others, but only the size of an average human. It had a feminine figure, long limbs, and equally as long fingers that ended in wispy particles. Flowy white tendrils that resembled hair grew from its head, and instead of the yellow eyes the bug-like creatures had, this one's were a glowing amethyst.
Myra held her weapon at the ready, trying to cease her infernal shaking. However, rather than amble awkwardly about like the little creatures had, or lunge out suddenly for an attack, this shadow glided towards her, its feet not even touching the ground. It paused a few feet away from her, likely noticing her blade, and simply floated there curiously. It cocked its head as it studied her, taking in her tense, shivering form.
Then, much to Myra's chagrin, it started circling her slowly, scrutinizing her from all angles. She followed it, turning so that her weapon was always between her and it. When it stopped in front of her, the thing's body shivered and a peculiar sound arose from its throat. Myra blinked in rapid confusion when she realized it was purring.
The creature raised its spindly hand towards her chest, cautiously, almost as if it were trying not to frighten her. Myra's shoulder blades touched as she shrank away from it, her feet tensed and ready to fight or flee on the spot. The shadow made a bizarre cooing sound, as if it were soothing her, and as it reached for her-
It stopped.
Its limbs twitched erratically, and without any further warning, the thing screeched.
The piercing sound rattled inside Myra's head, and she reflexively slapped her hands over her ears. The shadow reeled backwards, raising its hand in preparation to attack, but the thing possessing her was quicker. Before Myra knew it, her arm swung out at the same time the creature brought its hand down on her.
Another wail tore through the air as her blade sliced through the shadow's arm, severing it in one fell swoop. The limb disintegrated by her feet, making Myra's stomach turn.
But illness would have to wait, because the creature soared towards her, remaining hand poised to strike. Myra leapt out of the way, landing into a somersault before unsteadily shooting to her feet. She was given no time to gather her bearings, because suddenly her body was flinging itself to the side, just barely avoiding being hit by the shadow creature.
Even with no experience in combat, Myra could tell that this creature was in a different league from the other ones; it was faster, more agile, and far smarter. Within minutes, she was bombarded with one close call after the other.
The shadow feinted left, nearly knocking the weapon from her hand when she raised it in the nick of time to block.
It dissolved into the ground and hid its presence, and just when Myra thought it would come at her from below, a shadow on the ground betrayed its rapid approach from above, leaving her to duck at the last second to save her neck.
When the shadow grew tired of their game of hit-and-dodge, it growled in outrage before barraging her with a vicious flurry of attacks that made sparks fly off her blade. Whenever she blocked, Myra's arms screamed in protest and she could feel blisters forming on her fingers, but she desperately kept an iron grip on her weapon.
As the fight went on, the shadow seemed to grow more and more irritated. Finally, it retreated about twenty feet away and started circling the area's perimeter. Myra refused to take her eyes off it as she stood on trembling legs, panting heavily. She lacked the both energy and the courage to attack the creature herself, leaving her to watch as it folded over before suddenly leaping gracefully into the air.
Like a ballerina dancing up a spiral staircase, the shadow twirled and pranced in an upwards corkscrew pattern until stopping roughly thirty feet directly above her.
Myra tentatively backed up as it lifted a bent leg behind itself, raised its arm over its head and, like an ice skater, started spinning elegantly on one foot. Faster and faster the shadow spun, and from its foot grew a glowing silver orb of energy.
It didn't take a genius to tell that the attack was dangerous, whatever it was.
Myra turned around to run a moment too late, for the second she stepped forward, a muted BOOM shook the air as the orb exploded, breaking into hundreds of pieces that rained down upon the area.
Myra ran like she'd never run before, her body occasionally jerking to the side to avoid being hit by a burning orb. She knew getting hit by one directly would mean a certain, painful end, as the orbs were reducing the ground into small, black craters wherever they landed. Myra didn't paused for second as the orbs fell around her, ignoring the burn of her lungs and the ache of her muscles. She ducked, twisted, and jumped away from the orbs barreling toward her–
But for all her body's tireless efforts to protect itself, it simply wasn't immune to fatigue.
And when she slowed for the briefest of moments to draw in a desperate breath, one of the orbs saw its chance.
Though her body moved to dodge, it wasn't fast enough, and Myra let out a broken cry as the orb grazed her left arm.
She stumbled, but whatever had possessed her didn't allow her to stop. With a burst of renewed vigor, Myra charged forward until she was finally outside the range of the deadly storm, where her body gave into the pain.
She fell roughly on her side, wheezing and groaning as she clutched her injured arm. The orb had burned a hole in the sleeve of her top, and with one glance she could tell there was a second degree burn there.
Myra sucked air in through her teeth, muttering profanity under her breath as she pushed herself up. She blinked several times, trying to reorient herself as she recalled that the fight was not yet over.
The ground had been scorched within an inch of its life, though the house appeared miraculously unscathed.
Craning her neck, Myra spotted the shadow still in the air. Its body was trembling as it descended steadily, head lolled to the side and remaining arm limp at its side. That attack seemed to have taken a toll on the creature too.
Knowing this might be her only chance, Myra struggled to her feet, hissing at the pain that raced through her arm when she pushed herself up with it. The shadow was too high to attack head on, which left her with only one option.
With a harsh cry, Myra threw her weapon at the shadow.
The blade spiraled through the air before meeting its mark, lodging itself directly in the shadow's chest. The creature let out an earth shattering scream, and Myra screamed with it, the sound of its cries piercing her very soul as her body folded to the ground, hands clapped over her ears. Its body shuddered in the air for a few agonizing moments before going slack.
Then, with a dry pop, the shadow evaporated into nothing. Like with the smaller creatures, a large heart escaped its remains, hovering strangely in the air before floating up into the sky.
Myra watched the heart, physically unable to tear her gaze from it, until it was out of sight.
Relief slammed into her, causing her knees to buckle underneath her as the adrenaline wore off and her body finally succumbed to its fatigue. There wasn't a solitary muscle in Myra's body that didn't ache, not an inch of skin spared from sweat, and not a single limb that didn't tremble.
However, her relief from surviving was short-lived.
For when the silence descended heavily upon her, Myra realized that, while she may have fought off her attackers, nothing about her situation had changed.
She was alone and injured in a strange, unfamiliar place, and she still had no idea what was going on.
Placing a hand on her belly, Myra doubled over and dry heaved toward the ground. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up, so all that came up was bile and wet coughs.
Once the sickness had passed, Myra sat listlessly on the ground, mind blank with grief and shock.
The only coherent thought playing on repeat through her head was, "Why? Why? Why?"
So deep in her distress was she, that she didn't hear the footsteps slowly approaching her.
"…Marya?"
?'s Journal, Entry 76.
Something is coming. I cannot say what it is, or why I feel this way. This place hardly ever changes after all, so why would it now? But in my heart, I know it to be true.
Something is here. Something has changed. Something…significant.
I shall depart to investigate this matter at once.
Holy crap, it's here. I'm finally writing it. Must be the end of times, indeed.
For those of you who don't know, (which is all of you) this is a story that I have been wanting to write for years. I've lost count of the amount of times I've re-planned, revised, and re-plotted this story, (no thanks to Nomura) but I think that finally, I have something of substance worth sharing with the outside world.
To clarify on some of the tags, this story will technically be an AU, but I personally label it as more of a "UA" which stands for "Universe Altercations." I do this because the majority of the story, events, and characters from the games will remain completely unchanged. However, there will be certain aspects of certain characters and worlds that will undergo some changes for the sake of this particular story line, namely their backgrounds and motivations. But fear not my friends, for their personalities will remain intact! I love so many of these characters so, so, so much, and I wouldn't drastically change them for any story.
As another disclaimer, this story is currently being written after the release of ReMind, so if you're reading this fifty years into the future where KH 4 has come out, I apologize, but this story will not have anything to do with that game. I will not be making any assumptions regarding the future of the canon KH plot, this story will have its own version of the series' end and beginning. You just won't know how until later.
Furthermore, for those of you that care very deeply for the intricate plot and lore of this franchise, I give you my word that I will do MY ABSOLUTE BEST to be as accurate as possible within the realm of this story line. That said, if I ever screw up my details somewhere, feel free to correct me, you won't hurt my feelings. For as messy and headache-inducing the universe of KH is, I still want to pay it the time and respect it deserves.
That said, I offer you all my most sincere gratitude for clicking on this story, you will never know how much your interest means to me. I'm one of those people that it takes a lot to put myself out there, but this story is a passion project of mine, and I would be doing both it and myself a disservice if I didn't share it with anyone. I hope you stick around and enjoy, because there's a lot I want to share with you.
Reviews & constructive criticism are always welcome. :) Also, this story is cross-posted on Ao3 under Orchid_Haven.