Charon Aytigin 18

My skin is lit by the morning sun through the window of the orphanage, nudging me slowly awake. I let out a frustrated grown and shove my pillow over my head until finally I give in to getting up. Not because of the calls from Zion (the head of the orphanage) but because I cant wait to spend my day playing pranks on people and just generally fucking with them. There's just something pleasurable about seeing people suffering from the distress I cause them, it's very amusing indeed.

I push myself out of bed in just a pair of tight, laced pants and head across the creaky wooden floorboards to the bathroom with the other kids in my room moving about simultaneously. I am about to push the bathroom door open until I remember that I placed a pot of paint above the door frame last night while everyone was asleep and it's a trap just waiting to be activated.

One of the smaller, new boys then approaches the bathroom door. The perfect victim, I think to myself.

He reaches for the door handle.

"May I?… I'm desperate." He asks in a meek voice.

I turn to him and put on the most pleasant trusting smile I can muster. I am however using the thought of what's about to happen to him to fuel my smile.

"Of course. Go ahead," I answer gently.

"Thanks."

He turns the door knob hastily but is soon met with a pot of dark green paint splattered all across his face, hair and body.p

I let out a mischievous giggle and am forced to brace myself against the wall to keep my breath. He turns back to me speechless, wiping the thick splodges of paint from his eyes.

"Ah thank you, that really brightened my morning," I laugh but my mouth turns downward again suddenly now that little bit of entertainment has run its course.

"Now move," I order, shoving him out the way.

I can hear the boy whimpering on the other side of the door after I have closed it which sends good vibes through my veins.

I glance at myself in the mirror, my pale skin on my chest is laced with the scars of the various whippings I've endured through the punishments for my pranks. My attention then turns to my sunken grey eyes with black bags lining them and finally to my shabby, silver dyed mane on my head. I find my reflection smirking back at me in a way that I did not expect.

Then there are several hasty knocks on the door.

"Charon!" A voice calls.

It's Zag's voice.

"What's going on? Zagreus darling," I respond.

"You're in big trouble, we gotta go now."

With a sigh I spin around and twist the door knob, swinging it open. I give Zag a quick shove which is my way of saying good morning before grabbing my shirt and slipping it on. Zion is marching through the orphanage towards us looking very mad with the boy still covered in paint by his side.

"You're dead, rat," I yell at the boy.

Zag then grabs my arm and yanks me towards the window where we both proceed to vault out of. We land swiftly on one of the shanty roofs and with a nod we place our butts on the thin metal surface and slide down, landing on the muddy ground below with a thud.

We manage to put some distance between us and the orphanage before Zag finally looks back to me, breathing heavily.

"Oh Charon, why are you like this? I really had better things to do with my morning…" He groans.

"No you didn't," I tell him.

He is facing me now, his eyes scanning me all over.

"But why?" He demands.

"Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me… tells me I'm a bitch. Like it asks why don't you go over to that guy and spit in his food? Or why don't you pick a fight with that guy over there?" I say pointing to the nearest guy.

"That's my mind playing tricks on me wooooo! Woooooo!" I yell, curling my fists and starting to shadow box at the same time.

He chuckles.

"You've still got the fire in you," his voice becoming lustful.

"And I'm saying leave me alone I don't wanna fuck with these people," I say, tapping on my head where my mind is.

But it's a lie. I want to mess with everyone. That's what I live for.

The cold night draws in slowly in district 12. I split off from Zag who eventually headed back to the orphanage but I'll avoid it for a little longer. I'm kind of getting tired of the constant punishments and anyway I'm 18 now so I could be thrown out at any time. Actually I have no idea why Zion hasn't thrown me out yet… I guess he kind of likes our little dynamic. Weirdo.

It is almost pitch black now with the exception of the warm orange glowing street lamps hanging around the wooden houses and the faint glimmers of stars in the night sky but they are mostly blocked out by the low lying mist. The silence is probably the best part of the nights out here except for the sounds of the cicadas in the distance and maybe the occasional rat rummaging around in a bin.

Eventually I spot a silhouette of a person slowly moving closer towards me from down the lane. When he reaches about one metre from me I can see it is a boy roughly my age, maybe 17 but is definitely shorter than my 6'3 build.

"Excuse me… can you help me?" He staggers.

At first I am about to tell him to rapidly get lost until I notice a moon crescent necklace hanging around his neck. I like it very much…. Yes very much indeed.

I feel an automatic smile creep across my face.

"Are you ok? How can I help?"

His face lights up from the sympathy in my voice, I can tell he feels comforted already by me.

"I'm not from around these parts and I've managed to get myself lost… I'm from the west zone," he explains.

That's why he seems more well off because he's from the wealthier part of the district and not these dumps.

"Don't worry friend, I know a shortcut which should get you back on the main road," I reply, gently rubbing his shoulder.

"Oh God thank you so much," he exclaims, relief in his voice.

I struggle to prevent my smile morphing into a sinister smirk but I manage to hold it off somehow.

"Follow me."

I begin leading him down a back alley where no one is likely to be around. We are on the very suburbs of the district now with only metal fencing, mud and ruined buildings scattered about.

"So… how much further is the road?" He stutters, panic beginning to be heard in his voice again. I have to act now before he starts to lose his trust in me completely. I give him no reply, only reaching around the corner of a building until my hands find a metal pole.

"Hey?" He mutters, confused. I can see his eyes desperately trying to find a reason to trust me still, a reason to reassure himself that everything's ok and he'll be safe but he'll get no reason from me.

I quickly slide the poll into my hand and bring it rapidly across his temple, striking him hard! He screams in shock and collapses down to the ground.

"What are you doing?" He gurgles.

I don't answer and aggressively stomp my heel into his ribs! He groans in pain again to the sound of them cracking beneath my foot. Then I kneel down to him, pressing my knee onto his now swollen ribs, restricting his breathing and take him by his thick, brown hair.

"You know you deserve this right?" I taunt him.

"Trusting a guy with a silver mane that puts most in mind of a vampire."

I move my hand to his necklace that I wanted and inspect it.

"That's a nice necklace you have though, where'd you get it?"

"My… my mom gave it to me…"

With a smirk I pull it over his head before placing it over my own. Next I reach into his pockets and collect any money and valuables he might have, stuffing them into my own. Finally I release my knee from his ribs causing him to gasp for air desperately however his relief is short lived because I maintain my grip on his hair. Clenching my other fist, I land three swift punches on his jaw until he is bleeding from the mouth. Man, it's so pleasurable to have someone at your mercy like this, I could cause him untold amounts of suffering and the hilarious thing is it's all his fault for trusting me.

The last thing I do to him is drag him by the hair towards a thick puddle of mud and dump him in, face first. I see him struggle to push himself out the mud, his face now drenched in the disgusting ooze. I can't help but let out a cackle to add insult to injury.

"Have a nice sleep," I giggle, before turning my back on him and leaving him there. I have to head back to the orphanage now but at least I got myself a few new trinkets so I don't feel too bad.

Nadia Miniera, 13

I am sitting on my floor, hunched over with my mortar and pestle in my lap. I grind down the leaves into a pasty mush. The bright greens darken as they combine. I continue doing this until I can feel an ache in my back and the beginnings of an ache in my wrist. I get on my knees and set my stuff down on the wooden board that holds my small collection of alchemy. Since dad and I can't afford much, most of it are objects I merely stumbled across on my scavenging. Half of my glass jars have cracks in them, the other half I've applied some form of sealant too to ensure my creations don't leak out. I take great care not to dispose of the things I come across. Supplies are too limited here.

The only thing I got brand new was my mortar and pestle. Once I began to show signs of an interest in the sciences, my mother made it her goal to provide me with as much support as she could afford. Somehow, she was able to find someone to craft this one. They built it to last and even though it's started to show some signs of aging (minor chips on the wood, green stains from the hundreds of leaves that have been in it), it's my most prized possession. It reminds me of her. It reminds me of both her and my sister. Of them.

As I transfer the mush from the bowl to a glass jar, I knock my hand into a small piece of coal that rolls towards me. I pick it up and stare at it for a moment.

"Did you know if you put a ton of pressure on coal, it turns into diamonds?" Katia had told me this once. I told her I didn't believe her, that was my instinctual reaction to most things she said to me. She knew this, and managed to find a small piece of coal…somewhere. Maybe from a fallen mine cart, maybe from the crevices of our parents' shoes. She gave it to me and asked me to turn it into a diamond. A week later, she was dead. A few more days later, it was my mother. The same illness took them both, along with a couple dozen others in our district. It was a rough winter.

I had full intentions to throw this coal out, but my sister's words stuck with me. Unfortunately, when I'm given an idea, I have to see it through. Her not being here to see my results only makes it that much more important to me.

Besides, there's something…magical about the idea. The main part of me, the scientific part, knows it's not physically possible. But the idea that something so rough and dark can be turned into something so beautiful with just pressure…it's something I hold onto. The idea that the pressure placed on me isn't without reason. Just like the coal, I could turn into something beautiful.

But, I haven't figured out a way to begin to test it. I don't want to destroy this piece of coal, I tell myself it's because it's dangerous to get another one, but the truth is it's my last connection to Katia. I set it back on the corner of my board, with the promise to myself that it will be my next project. But first, I have to finish the one in front of me.

I mix in water, a little bit of chamomile leaves, and stir it together. The green becomes slightly more transparent as it mixes with the clear-ish water and white petals from the chamomile. Once I'm done, it has the consistency of almost mud. Based on the ingredients, I'm hoping it works as a relief for the allergies I've had. The last creation I made didn't work. It actually made me a little nauseous, which wasn't fun. But I'm determined for this to work, so I can move onto my coal project.

"Nadia?" My dad quietly knocks on my door.

"Yeah?" I place the concoction on the floor and turn my head.

"Are you ready?" He asks. I'm about to ask him 'ready for what?' but that's when I realize, dad is never home during the day. There's only one day he has off…

Shoot. "Yeah! I mean, give me two minutes." I scramble to my small wooden trunk of clothes and grab the first thing I see that qualifies as nice, a pair of overalls. I throw it over the white shirt I was wearing, and thankfully, it hides some of the stains from my time outside and my time inside.

I go to my door and open it, expecting to see him there. I look around the rest of the house, which doesn't take long, and I don't see him either.

I head outside our house, more like a shack, and see him standing, facing the direction of the square. He hears me shut the door behind me. Somehow on his day off, the circles under his eyes are darker than usual. He tries to smile at me, but it just emphasizes the sadness in his eyes. I love my father, and he loves me, but ever since mom and Katia, he's been sucked into sorrow. He works more days and more hours than he ever did. He claims it's for financial reasons, but I know better.

Him pulling away, it's not being alone that bothers me. I prefer to be off by myself, to focus on my experiments and to find the answers to the questions that stay in the back of my mind. In fact, him pulling away has probably increased the amount of time I've been able to spend finding answers to these problems. Albeit at the expense of my schoolwork and social life, not like those were very strong to begin with.

No, him pulling away bothers me because he appears like a shell of what he used to be. He used to be full of life, the center of every circle, the reason someone laughed or smiled. I kinda miss that version of him.

We arrive at the square and I'm surprised when he holds out his arms for a hug. I'm hesitant to take it, but I eventually do.

"I'll wait for you. We can walk home together after." I nod and watch him join up with the rest of the over 18 crowd.

I try to ignore those around me as I check in with the guards and stand surrounded by other girls my age. I recognize many of them from school, and I notice how they seemingly pretend not to notice me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I was never popular in school. However, the more I spend trying to learn about the world, the blunter I become. If someone says something to me that doesn't make sense, or is blatantly wrong, I don't hesitate before telling them that. When I was younger, I was a little more careful about what I said. Not so much anymore.

I close my eyes and I think of a happier time. One with my mother and my sister by my sides. One where my father was smiling. When I was smiling. The memory feels so warm…

The warmth disappears when my name comes out of the escort's mouth. And it's replaced with pure terror.

I cant believe we've done it! We've completed the intros! In this chapter Charon was written by Nautics and Naida was written by Team Shadow. These two are a very fun pair and I cant wait to expand on them later. Thank you to Runewhisperer for Charon and Rising-Balloons for Naida! Next chapter will be train rides part 1 written by Nautics then part 2 written by Team Shadow. See you there!