Daria blinked. A hazy stream of white-yellow light ahead of her revealed a stretch of grass emerging from the darkness. She took a couple steps, and then paused at the sound of her boots tapping wooden planks. Her right hand settled atop a railing. Daria took a few more steps. Her boots trailed into the grass closest to the light. She turned. A faintly-lit outline of a gazebo greeted her. She carefully walked just outside the light and looked up. Silhouetted arms swept and retreated behind a shadowy altar. Daria pressed her fingers to her temples.
Let's assess the situation. I woke up in someone's backyard with no explanation of how I got here or why. On the plus side, the cops haven't been summoned. I'd hate to have to explain my childhood fantasy of roughing it in a gazebo.
Surprisingly, she didn't feel any sort of chill or balmy warmth around her. The air was…where were the stars? She adjusted her glasses. No, the sky was completely devoid of stars and clouds. And now that she noticed it, the streetlights also decided to take the night off. "Doesn't feel like the Plutonian shore." Daria clasped her hand over her mouth. Fortunately, the silhouetted figure continued paying tribute. Come to think of it, they looked kinda like… "Jane?"
At least I'm somewhere relatively safe – if you ignore the biohazard containment unit kept in the kitchen. Daria slowly turned back to the gazebo. I thought Jane said her parents tore this down. Then again, procrastination towards responsibility is one of her family's strong suits. She frowned. I better see how Jane is before anything else miraculously returns from the dead.
Shaking the urge to reexamine the sky for any signs of celestial activity, Daria gradually worked her way around the house. Halfway to the front door, her right boot kicked a discarded plastic bottle. She froze. It flopped towards what she could barely make out as the edge of the sidewalk. Daria groaned internally. No, I'm not regressing to the age when the boogeyman seemed like a real possibility. She took another step.
Something in the front yard groaned and rose to its feet. Daria's eyes widened. It lurched into the side yard with clawed hands stretched to the sky. Her feet slid backwards. The creature dragged its feet through the grass, still groaning and still swaying. Daria's left heel jabbed behind her right. Her hands caught the nearby wall. The creature's hands fell to its sides and its groan finally fell silent. Something clicked. Daria instinctively shielded her face.
A small, blue-tinted light coated the edges of her fingers. "Oh, hey, Daria," the creature from the front yard murmured. "Did you get locked out, too?"
Daria lowered her hand. "Um, I don't live here, Trent."
He chuckled for a few seconds, before it broke into a sudden cough. "Right, sorry. It sometimes feels like you're part of the family."
She permitted herself to smile a little. "Dunno if I'd go as far as asking your parents to adopt me." Her smile faded. "Have you noticed something strange about the sky?"
Trent craned his head back and hiked the pocket flashlight towards the dark expanse. "Hmmm. It's really black."
"The nighttime doesn't get a lot of color choices."
"That's too bad. It'd be pretty cool if we could have dark green nights. Or maybe some red." Trent brushed his chin. "Then again, that might not be a good idea. Jesse and Max would start thinking it was the end of the world. Or something was on fire. Hmmm… 'Your night is ablaze, your sky's all a haze, like blood and mayonnaise…'"
Daria lightly shook her head. "There aren't any stars or clouds. No streetlights, either."
"It did seem darker than usual." The flashlight's beam swept over Daria's boot. "Were you hanging out in our backyard?"
"Not really. I just sort of…woke up there."
Trent chuckled, thankfully without breaking into another cough. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I got tired waiting for Jane. Don't mind sleeping on grass, sometimes."
"Sure." Daria mulled over her next comment. "Your family still has a gazebo?"
The beam trailed behind her feet. Trent's brow furrowed. "I thought we got rid of it after Janey got all that money to rebuild it."
"It's okay, Trent. You think you can get Jane to let us in?"
"Maybe, if she's not too caught up in her art."
"Throw a rock at her window?"
"Nah, Max did that once. It was a big rock. Janey wasn't too happy about it. Although she said all that broken glass made good rain for a collage."
"Nevermind." Daria reconsidered the front door. "Maybe we'll just ring the doorbell until she comes down begging for mercy."
"Couldn't hurt." Trent guided her around the corner of the house to the front stoop. "Power must be out."
"There's a light on in the back." The bottle rolled onto the sidewalk. Daria glanced at the darkened street. It's just a bottle. But there's no wind and I didn't kick it that far… She shook her head and forced herself to look straight at the door.
Trent pressed his thumb into the worn doorbell button. The chime pulsed on the other side. Daria kept her back to the street. Trent tried the bell again. Sensing that Janey wouldn't descend anytime soon, he knelt and dug under the mat. He retrieved a scratched key and slid it into the lock.
"You had a key under the welcome mat?" Daria deadpanned.
"Yeah, it's pretty handy." Trent paused. "Probably should've thought of it, first." He quickly opened the door. A weak orange light flickered in the living room. Daria quickly crossed the threshold with her gaze locked onto the carpet. Trent glared at the street. Nothing but a discarded Ultra Cola bottle revealed itself under his pocket light's aura. He clicked it off, shut the door behind them, and locked it.
Daria stopped in the center of the living room, its carpet a dull navy under the weak glow. Her eyes shifted to the sole source of light: a plastic candle topped with a curled amber bulb. "All the class and elegance without the risk of rekindling the Great Chicago Fire."
Trent hmmed and drew the curtains over the nearby window. "We've got power in the house, but there's no power outside. Maybe Mom's backup generator kicked in."
"Backup generator?"
"Mom never wanted us to miss out on art during a blackout." He smiled a little. "Guess that worked out for Jane."
"Guess so." Daria glanced at a pale blue landline phone perched atop the table to her right. Panic flared in her eyes. She reached for it and dialed. Her face tightened at the silence. "Yet another bad horror movie cliché." She carefully set the phone back into its cradle. "Unless Quinn's tied the line at two in the morning for another emergency meeting about post-party makeup recovery."
"You need a ride back to your place?"
Daria began to nod, until her head locked in place. She groaned. Let's be rational. There's a power-out, and my family's probably sleeping through it. But the phone isn't working. And barring some sort of sleepwalking problem I don't know about, why would I come to in the Lanes' backyward?
"You okay?"
She blinked. "Sorry, Trent. I'm just a little confused."
He offered another little smile. "I know the feeling. You can crash here if you need to. Your folks are probably asleep, anyway."
Daria looked at the door and curtained window. "Sorry about this. I usually send an invitation before I teleport into my friend's backyard."
"Like I said, it really feels like you're part of the family, sometimes." Trent inspected the nearby couch. "Wouldn't recommend sleeping there. Last time I did, I woke up with three quarters and an old lollipop stuck to the back of my neck."
"Raiders of the Lost Lark."
"That movie was pretty cool, though that part where everyone's faces melt off still creeps me out." Trent's gaze moved up the stairs. "I think we still have that sleeping bag. I'll see if Janey's still up."
"Thanks."
"No problem." Trent paused at the base of the stairs. "You sure you're okay, Daria?"
She nodded a little too forcefully. "It's just late. I'm sure my family's all right."
Trent shrugged and started up the stairs. Daria dug her fingers into her forehead. It's just a power outage. There isn't something lying in wait outside. Of course, I say that after more nasty horror tropes pile on. Keeping her back to the door and window, Daria followed Trent.
White-yellow light peeked into the hallway from Jane's room. Trent lightly rapped his knuckles on her door. A can of paintbrushes and other supplies tumbled inside. "Agh! My artistic integrity, ruined by a cruel twist of fate!"
"Janey, are you okay? Everything's weird out here."
"You think everything's weird when your eyes are open."
"Good one. Is the sleeping bag still here? Daria's staying over."
"What?" Setting the can atop her desk, Jane opened the door and peered past Trent towards Daria. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise."
"Daria woke up in the backyard."
Jane smirked. "Taking cues from us Lanes, are you? Trust me, a life of narcolepsy isn't as glamorous as he makes it look."
"All right, you caught me. I was plotting to kill you in your sleep, but the plan fell through the moment I realized you were still awake."
"And you let her in the house? Oh, Trent, did you trade away your common sense for a microwave burrito?"
"Nah, I went for one of those pepperoni Hot Pockets." Trent glanced around the room until his eyes lined with the easel before the window. "Yep, told you she was caught up in her art." He pointed.
Daria looked. A long-haired brunette woman sat blissfully in the middle of the grassy plain overtaking the bottom half of the canvas. Behind her, the silver clouds and golden sun were adorned with animalistic eyes and teeth. "Another reason to barricade myself in my room."
Jane cocked an eyebrow at Daria. ""Caught up in art", huh? You two really are up to something, aren't you?"
"There's a weird sort of blackout going on. None of the streetlights are working, the phone's out, and the sky's completely…" Daria blinked. A long-earred white rabbit fell screaming into a swirling, Twilight Zone-esque void that bled black and silver-accented white over the canvas. A few wispy stars sank beneath his panicky feet. She shook her head. The woman two seconds from being preyed upon by the hostile sky returned.
"That's strange." Jane stepped out into the hall and flicked the nearest switch. The bulb overhead didn't light. She glanced at her lit room. "The wiring in this place…" She stopped next to Daria. "Phone's not working, either? This house really isn't up to code."
"You mind if I stay for the night?"
"Sounds good to me, amiga. You sure you don't wanna swing by your place, though, just in case?"
Daria's face started to sink. Jane's eyes grew.
Trent gently set his hand on Daria's shoulder. "It's cool, Daria. I'm sure they're fine. You don't have to worry about a thing."
"Guess not," Daria murmured.
Jane frowned, but said nothing. She turned towards her closet and rooted for the sleeping bag. Daria's attention returned to the canvas. The woman and the hostile sky vanished again, replaced by a pulsing heart bleeding ink into a murky pond lined with drowning eyes. Daria shut her eyes. When they reopened, the woman returned to her state of happiness before the attack. She blinked, pulled off her glasses, and rubbed her eyes.
"I should've warned you. We're renovating Casa de Lane into Lawndale's own Haunted Mansion. You won't wanna believe your eyes for the first few minutes." Jane's attempted smirk faltered.
Daria quickly readjusted her glasses. "As long as I'm not tightrope-walking over an alligator, I'll be fine."
"You sure you're feeling okay?"
"I'm fine. If I start seeing nine-hundred and ninety-nine spirits, then I'll panic."
"Okay," Jane cautiously replied. She stepped past Daria and ushered Trent into the hallway.
Daria stared hard at the canvas. The woman still sat atop the grassy plain in blissful ignorance of the sun and clouds poised to strike. She brushed her forehead. "It's a blackout, my family is fine, and I sleepwalked all the way into Jane's backyard. And I contemplated irrational fears over a discarded bottle in the street. All in all, a perfectly rational way to spend the evening. Assuming this isn't a prelude to insanity." She risked a glance from the canvas and turned back. The imminent celestial attack remained. "Sanity prevails."
She looked past the easel. The gazebo stood just outside the white-yellow light bleeding into the backyard. Daria brushed her forehead.
Jane returned to the room with her left fist raised. "You and I are gonna be roomies tonight. I call the top bunk!" Her arm lowered. "Daria?"
"Present," Daria replied, still looking over the gazebo.
Her friend glanced over her shoulder. "Ah, that old eyesore. It really is a sight to behold."
"I thought you said your parents tore it down?"
Jane shrugged. "I thought they did. Anyway, we found the old sleeping bag. It's worn in a few places, but it's definitely a lot more comfortable than grass."
Daria turned around. Jane dragged out a dark red sleeping bag and rolled it out next to her bed. Daria removed her glasses and carefully placed them on the desk. Her boots and jacket joined them shortly. "Thanks."
"Anytime. I love a sleepover."
"Fat-free, butter-free popcorn and flat diet soda?"
"You're a woman after my own heart." Jane spotted three paintbrushes digging into the carpet. She quickly scooped them into the can. "I'll walk with you back to your place in the morning, since Trent'll likely be practicing his guitar with his eyes closed."
"Thanks. Sorry to bust in like this."
"Like I said, not a problem. But I am curious. All murderous intentions aside, what were you doing in our backyard?"
"This will sound bizarre, but I really did wake up there, in that gazebo."
"If you want, I can get Mystik Spiral to dig up and bring it to your place. Stalking really doesn't suit you."
"How courteous of you; but that's what happened. If I am sleepwalking, I'm only now aware of it." Daria pulled the zipper and slid inside the sleeping bag.
Jane yawned. "Well, if you are planning to spend another night prowling the streets, I have a bag of burning dog doo you can drop off at Upchuck's."
"Thanks, but I'd prefer to be fully awake for acts of arson." Daria sighed and glanced up at the canvas. The portrait of the woman and the hostile sky remained. She pressed her fingers to her eyelids.
Jane rose from her bed and turned out the light. She paused at the door. "Seems Trent was able to find his room with the lights off. Then again, when you navigate through most of life with your eyes shut…"
"I'm sorry about this."
"Don't be. It's what friends are for and all that mushy stuff." Jane closed the door and reapproached her bed. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'll be fine. Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about." Jane threw aside her comforter and took one last look out the window. "You weren't kidding. The sky is completely black."
"Shouldn't've bought those monks a supercomputer."
"Huh?"
"Nothing." Daria closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow. "The world will regain its senses by morning." Mom, Dad, and Quinn will be just fine. I'll come home to the sights and sounds of Dad ranting about squirrel assassins and an inconveniently damaged transformer near our house. Daria took a few slow breaths and closed her eyes.
A light tapping woke her up a few minutes later. Daria looked towards the door. No, it sounded like it was coming behind her. And so the assault begins. Jane was still asleep. And Trent assuredly was, too. With a quiet sigh, Daria turned towards the canvas and window. Nothing happened. She resumed lying down. Maybe it is a secret cabal of squirrels, after all.
Another tap against the glass brought her back up. Somewhere to her right, Jane stirred. Daria debated on waking her up. Just because you're becoming a paranoid insomniac, doesn't mean the other kids want to. She stared directly at the window. There should be curtains. There should be curtains, and that would stop… Daria rapped her forehead. Listen to yourself, Morgendorffer. Everything's fine. It's only a little ambience noise. And if Jane can get through it, so can–
Something slammed directly into the glass. Jane jolted awake. "What the hell?!"
"Oh, good. I have enough auditory hallucinations for everyone," Daria muttered.
"What's going on?"
A crack punctured the darkness around them. Jane slid out of bed and instinctively reached for her easel. Daria rose after her. Her hands caught Jane's shoulders. Another, louder crack rained shards into the room. Jane raised the canvas over their faces, toppling the easel somewhere to the left. An errant shard cut the top of Daria's exposed left foot. Something flew over their heads. Jane swung the canvas. The wall to their right crumpled. Daria pulled Jane back. The door behind them snapped off its hinges. Somewhere inside the house, Trent began to scream.
Daria seized Jane's arm and tugged her away from the window. The cut split to the base of her big toe. She gritted her teeth and tried searching for the easel, her boots, anything to defend themselves with. Her hand pushed against another wall. Plaster crumbled beneath her palm. Jane yelled and threw the canvas. The floor splintered around Daria's feet. Her fingers tightened around Jane's arm. She pulled her friend as close as she could when the ceiling finally
Daria blinked. A hazy stream of white-yellow light ahead of her revealed a stretch of grass emerging from the darkness. She took a couple steps, and then paused at the sound of her boots tapping wooden planks. Her right hand settled atop a railing. Daria took a few more steps. Her boots trailed into the grass closest to the light. She turned. A faintly-lit outline of a gazebo greeted her. She carefully walked just outside the light and looked up. Silhouetted arms swept and retreated behind a shadowy altar. Daria pressed her fingers to her temples.
Let's assess the situation. I woke up in someone's backyard with no explanation of how I got here or why. On the plus side, the cops haven't been summoned. I'd hate to have to explain… Her fingers slid away. I've already done this.
Daria immediately searched the rest of the backyard. She found nothing aside from a busted and bitten plastic shovel that was probably best left unexplained. "I've already done this." That feeling, you can only say what it is in French. She brushed her forehead. "It was a dream, or a hallucination brought on by too much penne al presto." She frowned. "This isn't right."
As she was sure she had already done before, Daria carefully walked along the side of the house. Her boot crunched a plastic bottle halfway there. She lightly kicked it aside and continued on. If it was a dream, why am I still here? Maybe Trent's narcolepsy is contagious. She half-heartedly chuckled. Wait, Jane said something like that.
Something lurched in the front yard. Daria took another few steps. Sure enough, déjà vu manifested as a newly-awakened Trent Lane wielding a pocket flashlight. "Oh, hey, Daria. Did you–?"
"I didn't get locked out here," she answered before she could stop herself.
Trent blinked. "How'd you know I was locked out?"
"It's complicated. I feel like I'm reliving something."
"I've been there. Past life regressions and all that. Although I thought it woulda been something nicer, like jamming with Hendrix at Woodstock."
"That's not…" Daria sighed. This is confusing enough. Let's not drag metaphysics and reincarnation into it. She glanced at the sky. Once again, there were no stars or clouds. And the streetlights were still out. Assuming they were ever on to begin with.
"It's pretty dark. Good thing I remembered this." Trent swept the flashlight's beam over the grass and towards the street. "Power must be out."
"But you…" Daria shook her head.
"Hmmm?"
"Nothing." She searched the street as best as she could. Past the front bumper of Trent's car, she saw that the sidewalks and adjacent houses were empty. Daria pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled. It's late, remember? I could walk home, but…
"You feeling all right?"
She nodded. "I'm okay."
"Cool. Were you hanging out in our backyard?"
"I…I woke up. I don't know how I got there."
Trent frowned. "That doesn't sound like something you'd do."
"I'm full of surprises." Daria walked past Trent and eyed the welcome mat. She retrieved the scratched key and passed it to him.
He stared. "You knew that was there?"
Daria shrugged. "It's a pretty common practice. And Jane joked about it once," she quickly added.
"Hmmm. Guess that makes sense." Trent fitted the key into the lock and opened the door. A weak orange light flickered in the living room.
She once again kept her back to the street and crossed the threshold without a word. And he once again glared at the darkness behind them before shutting the door. Daria's eyes immediately located the plastic candle with the amber bulb. "All the class and…" She lightly shook her head. I already said that.
"It is kinda classy, yeah." Trent looked up the stairs for a moment before dropping onto the couch. His guitar wobbled towards his legs. "It is really dark outside." He pulled the guitar into his lap and strummed. "'You took all the stars, you left all the bars...' Nah."
Daria considered her next words wisely. "Remember what I said about reliving experiences?"
"Yeah?"
She inhaled. "I've already been through this. And then something else–"
"Uh…"
Daria sighed. "Sorry. I remember walking to the front yard, finding you, the key under the mat, and going up to Jane's room to spend the night because…" Her eyes grew.
Trent watched with startled concern as Daria seized the pale blue phone and dialed. Once again, she was greeted with silence. She slowly set the phone back into its cradle. "And I wasn't able to call my family."
"Um, the power is out," Trent offered.
"I know it sounds weird, but this already happened. This all happened, except..." Daria pressed her hand to her forehead. "Something happened to Jane."
Trent's eyes narrowed.
"I need to make sure she's okay."
He rose from the couch, nearly dropping his guitar onto the carpet. "What happened to Jane?"
"I…I don't know. But this all happened, before. The plastic candle, you in the front yard, the phone being dead, no stars." Daria paused at the base of the stairs. "It doesn't make any sense, but it all happened just like this."
Trent's suspicious glare softened. "You're not talking about a past life regression, are you?"
"No, Trent, I'm not." Daria started up the stairs. She stopped a moment to inspect the window. The darkened street and starless sky looked back. Her fingers dug into the railing. Gotta make sure Jane's okay. Her hand fell at her side. She ascended the final two steps. Trent followed close behind, his eyes fixed on the wall leading to Jane's door. She'll be fine. She's just painting something, and your family's asleep. The power's out. Nothing else.
Daria took the initiative to knock on Jane's door. A few low curses followed the toppling of a can full of brushes. Daria closed her eyes. Trent was about to speak, when the door finally opened. "You can open your eyes, Daria. I promise I'm decent."
Daria reopened her eyes. "Says the woman who thinks a layer of paint counts as an article of clothing."
"Hey, if you know what you're doing, ultramarine and scarlet cover everything." Her smirk dropped. "What's going on? It's not like you to randomly appear on my doorstep this late at night."
"Try your backyard."
"What?"
Trent coughed into his hand. "I kinda fell asleep outside. Woke up a little bit ago. Then Daria came out of our backyard."
The smirk briefly returned. "There are easier ways to contact me, Morgendorffer. Like this snazzy new invention called the…" Daria's eyes drifting towards the floor silenced the rest of that quip. "What's going on?"
"As much as I'd like to tell you, I don't know. What I do know is that I'm feeling like I've already been through most of this. The power outage, meeting Trent outside, waking up in your backyard, I can't contact my family. It's happened, before. And something happened to you. I don't remember what, but something happened."
Jane's eyes grew. "You're serious."
"For once, this isn't exaggeration for your amusement." Daria looked over Jane's shoulder towards her canvas and bedroom window.
"It's not finished."
"Do you mind if I come in, anyway? I promise I won't prematurely leak your newest project to the Internet."
"As long as you behave yourself and lay off the flash photography." Jane cast a worried look at Trent. Her brother tilted his head past her. Jane turned.
Daria walked by the canvas and gazed into the backyard. Jane's bedroom light streamed the same hazy white-yellow into the darkened grass. Her eyes trailed the glass and frame before returning to the vacant stretch where…something had been. It had to be there. She had walked out of… She closed her eyes. A few uneventful seconds passed before a faint crack echoed in the back of her mind. She reopened her eyes. The window remained intact.
"What's going on?" Jane asked cautiously.
Daria stepped back until her gaze realigned with the canvas. A chalk outline of a nondescript body drifted in an endless navy sea, arms and legs sprawled uselessly over its depths. It was a sun, wasn't it? It was a sun. Or a rabbit. It wasn't this. "Seems a little cheery for a crime scene."
"Our kind has a dark sense of humor." Jane carefully set her hand on Daria's shoulder. "Out with it."
"I told you, I remember all of this happening before, and something else happened, but I don't remember what."
"Wanna borrow my Polaroid?"
Daria's already weak smirk dissolved. "I'm sorry. I really don't know how to explain it. But, somehow, I came to in your backyard with no explanation of how I ended there – or why. And I remember something happened."
"You need to sit down?"
"Thank you."
Jane guided Daria to the edge of her unmade bed and sat with her. She frowned at the way Daria's eyes rescanned the window and canvas. Trent stood at the threshold, hands tucked into his pockets. He tilted his head towards the hallway. Jane nodded. Trent gave his sister and Daria one last concerned look before reluctantly shutting the door behind him. Jane lightly shook her head and pulled her hands into her lap.
Another crack snapped behind Daria's head. She fought to lock her gaze onto the wall in front of her. But at the corner of her eye, Jane's frown deepened. Keeping her hands at her sides, Daria reexamined the canvas and window. The night sky outside was still starless, and the painting hadn't shifted from the ocean's murder victim. Daria closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Paranoia really doesn't suit you, you know."
Daria faced Jane. "I'm hoping it was only a bad dream. But I don't know why I'm here, and I feel like something else is going to happen."
"Maybe we should retrace your steps a bit? You woke up in our backyard with no explanation why. And since you're not part of the band, I can safely guess no mind-alternating substances were involved."
Daria managed a little smirk. "I'm sure our caffeine consumption guarantees a few hallucinations."
"That was kinda "meh", but it's a sign you're improving, so I'll allow it. Anyway, you came to, wandered to the front yard, found Trent – or he found you." Jane chuckled quietly. "Once upon a time, this woulda been my cue to suggest something tasteless."
"And that woulda been my cue to strangle you and pose your corpse as a mannequin."
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't chop off my head. Or my hands. On second thought, go ahead and decapitate me. As long as my cold, dead fingers can clutch paintbrushes and tubes, I'll be good. Assuming you put my stinking remains in one of the good art supply shops around town."
"It's the least I could do to make up for killing you in cold blood." Daria blinked and then winced.
"Yeah, that was a little too morbid. Even for us."
"It's not that. I…keep going. I encountered Trent in the front yard."
"You encountered Trent in the front yard. Old joke about you hooking up with my brother. He let you in the house, probably after remembering we have a key hidden under the mat. You think he'd remember by now." The corner of her mouth twitched at Daria's nod. "He let you inside. You came upstairs. You saw something I painted. And then, something about my window? Was it something outside? Something inside?" Jane paused. "Wait, you can't call your house?"
"Despite your perfectly functioning room, the power appears to be dead, so there's no phone. And if Quinn or Mom were using it, I'd hear something besides complete silence."
Jane stood up and nudged Daria's shoulder. "We're going to your place. Let's make sure the rest of the Morgendorffer clan is sleeping safely in their beds."
Another crack shot behind Daria's head. She rose to her feet. "I'm sure they're fine. I'm just overreacting, right?"
"If I woke up in a strange place and didn't know why, I'd be pretty uneasy, too."
"I know who you are, Jane."
"True, but you have to admit this is a strange place. Now come on. I'm sure Quinn's getting her beauty sleep and your parents are safe and sound. I'll walk you there, myself. I'm quite experienced in the art of designated walking."
"I can walk just fine." Daria managed another little smirk. "It's my memory that needs a guide dog."
"I'm not fluffy and adorable, but I can scare off threats with my teeth." Jane started for the door. She paused and glanced back at her canvas. "Maybe I should've used ultramarine, but it doesn't quite have that same, alone-at-night feel."
Daria followed Jane's gaze. Her eyes grew. The predatory sun and clouds returned, extending their claws and teeth over the oblivious brunette in the grass. She struggled not to blink. But as soon as Jane's hand touched her shoulder, the chalk outline set adrift returned. "It looks good. Your future criminologists will love it."
" My future criminologists? You're the one who admitted murderous intent, Morgendorffer."
"And if you tell anyone, I'll make good on that threat."
"All the more reason to get you home, young lady." Jane opened the door. Trent hung around the second floor, standing at the base of the stairs. She frowned. "Something wrong?"
Trent didn't respond. Daria stepped past Jane and walked towards him. He still didn't react. She gently touched his shoulder. Trent slightly leaned forward. Jane approached and lightly shook his arm. Trent's head tilted towards Daria.
"Falling asleep standing up. That's a new one for you," she quipped halfheartedly.
"What?" Trent rubbed his forehead. "I was–"
A fourth crack thundered above Daria's head. Jane and Trent's widened eyes darted to the ceiling. Daria seized their wrists and ran for the stairs. A stretch of black wood snapped and shattered just past her right foot. Daria's hand slipped from Jane's wrist and caught the railing. Trent stumbled forward. She pulled as she could. Jane reached for her brother's arm. Trent jabbed his foot onto the next step. Another wedge of darkened wood smashed into the back of his head. Trent collapsed to his knees and rolled to the bottom. Daria ran to help him, when her feet sank into the crumbling steps.
Jane's fingers dug into her arm. Daria grabbed for the railing and choked back a scream. A splintery fang of wood and plaster landed between her eyes, launching her glasses towards Trent's prone body. Jane dropped her arms around Daria's stomach and pulled as hard as she could. The steps beneath Daria's feet fully gave way. Jane's arms shot into the air. Daria's fingers raked at the breaking steps behind her. Splinters and driftwood shards dug into her nails and palms. Jane's bedroom window shattered. Below them, another piece of the ceiling smashed the plastic candle, instantly dousing the weak orange glow.
Daria pulled herself to the top floor just as the light in Jane's bedroom finally extinguished. Her friend's hand shot down and desperately grabbed for her wrist. Daria swung both hands to catch hers. Another piece of the ceiling slammed into the bridge of her nose. Jane's scream drowned beneath the wall caving behind her. Daria grabbed for her friend's hand. As she tried to look up, a chunk of the railing flew towards her skull. Her fingers curled uselessly over
Daria blinked. A hazy stream of white-yellow light ahead of her revealed a stretch of grass emerging from the darkness. She took a couple steps, and then paused at the sound of her boots tapping wooden planks. Her right hand settled atop a railing. Daria took a few more steps. Her boots trailed into the grass closest to the light. She turned. A faintly-lit outline of a gazebo greeted her. She carefully walked just outside the light and looked up. Silhouetted arms swept and retreated behind a shadowy altar.
She turned back towards the edge of the yard. The sky was completely starless. A dull sting burrowed between her eyes and along her nose. Daria removed her glasses and brushed her face. She replaced them and searched the yard once more. A quiet tapping ebbed above her head. Daria looked towards the window. The silhouette at their alter-like easel reached for another dagger-like paintbrush. Daria instinctively grabbed at the air before forcing her hand back down. She stared directly at the house.
Daria immediately walked towards the front yard. Halfway there, her right boot propelled a discarded plastic bottle into the darkened street. It bounced off the sidewalk with a crack that nearly rooted her foot back to the ground. She continued on. Soon enough, she found someone slumped not far from the welcome mat. A body lying crumpled at the base of the stairs, head bowed forward, flashed before her eyes. Daria knelt and pushed his shoulder. "Trent."
He stirred, sat up, and stretched his arms. His hand lazily reached for his pocket flashlight. Daria stepped back and didn't blink as he swept the beam towards her face. "Oh, hey, Daria. Did you get–?"
"We need to get Jane out of the house, right now."
"Um…"
"Please trust me on this. We have to get Jane out of there." She extended her hand. "Please."
He stared at her for a few seconds, but took her hand and stood up. "You're acting pretty weird."
"Let's discuss my decaying sanity later. If we don't get Jane out of there, something bad is gonna happen."
Trent eyed her uneasily, but relented. Daria lifted the welcome mat and dug out the key. He didn't react as she unlocked the door. She paused at the threshold, eyes locked with the base of the stairs. The image of Trent's crumpled body flashed again. Something rattled down the left side of the darkened street. Trent moved to investigate. Daria shook her head. He followed her inside, still throwing an uncertain look at the street. Daria debated for a moment and then left the door slightly ajar. She led Trent up the stairs, ignoring the plastic candle burning its weak amber glow.
Once again, Daria could hear Jane toppling a can of paintbrushes as soon as she knocked on the door. Jane peered out at her. "I'm honored you decided to take me up on my invitation for a sleepover."
"Jane, we need to get out of here, now."
Her friend started to chuckle, which gradually died at Daria's stoic expression. "I don't know what's going on here, but I was–"
"I don't know what going's on. Call it a dream, call it a prophecy, call it a delusion, but right now, I need you and Trent to get out of here."
Jane blinked. "Daria, are you–?"
"Please, just trust me on this. And if I'm wrong – and I really hope that's that case –, I'll make it up to you. Please."
Jane glanced at Trent. Her brother didn't respond. She turned back to Daria. "You're serious."
"Unfortunately, yes. Being sarcastic wouldn't accomplish anything at the moment. Let's go."
"Can I at least get some shoes on? My delicate arches can't tolerate cold concrete."
Daria flinched at something she couldn't see. "We need to go, now."
"All right, Morgendorffer. But if this is all for nothing, you owe me big."
"Three toppings, your choice. Let's move."
"Good to know you can still negotiate. Helen must be proud." Jane frowned when Daria flinched again. She quickly flicked her light switch and chose not to comment on Daria's pointed looks at the walls and ceiling. Trent tilted his head towards the top of the stairs. Daria quickly joined them, still keeping her eyes on the wood and plaster over their heads. Trent opened the door. "You're awfully obedient tonight."
"If we're gonna be in trouble, we should listen to her, Janey."
"Reasonable enough." Jane stepped under the starless sky. "Okay, Daria, you have ousted me and my brother from our home. Where's the next stop in our little journey?"
Daria searched the darkened street. Trent helpfully retrieved his flashlight and swiveled it over the sidewalk and tarmac. "Everybody's gone," he murmured.
"Everybody's sleeping, except us." Jane turned to Daria. "So where do we go from here? Or will it be safe to go back inside in a few minutes?"
Daria's face sank. "I don't know," she answered quietly. "You can't stay there, I know that much. But…" She looked up. "Jane, can you and Trent give me a ride?"
"You got us out of our house to go to yours?"
"I tried to call my family from your phone, but the line was completely dead. Just like the power out here."
Trent raised an eyebrow. "I didn't see you call anybody, Daria."
"Look, something's going on. I need to make sure my family's okay. And I can't go alone. Not right now."
"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."
An echoing crack drew their attention. From the other side of the street, the discarded Ultra Cola bottle rolled past the parked Plymouth and caught on the curb.
Jane attempted a wry laugh. "Ah, so you're to blame for Daria's nightmares. Just like you said, our caffeine consumption guarantees a few hallucinations." She paused. "Did you say that? Or am I…?" She pressed her hand to her forehead.
Trent frowned. "What's wrong?"
Jane peeled her fingers from her cheek and glanced at Daria. Her bespectacled friend nodded. "I remember saying that. And, no, I'm not afraid of the dark. But right now, I need to make sure my family's okay. And I don't want to go out there alone. And I'd rather not walk."
"You'd rather we took our chances against the forces of evil in Trent's car?"
"Mild armor plating, can move a little faster than we can, and we can run over something if we have to."
"I don't know what scares me more: how utterly ruthless that sounded, or that maybe we aren't having a weird nightmare."
Trent considered. "Are you sure about that, Daria? I don't think I could–"
Faint footsteps shuffled in the darkness behind the Plymouth. Trent spun around far faster than Daria or Jane would ever expect, nearly knocking himself off his feet and the flashlight out of his hand. The pale blue beam skirted over the edges of the sidewalk and tarmac. Trent's breathing rose. More footsteps shifted from the right and disappeared behind the house across the street. His hand slowly fell to his side, again nearly dropping the flashlight from his fingers.
Jane stepped forward, but stopped herself from yelling at their unseen stalkers. She glanced at Daria. Her friend nodded towards the car. Jane pressed the ball of her palm into her temple. More footsteps scattered somewhere behind her. Jane whirled around. Their unseen stalkers joined their kin behind the house, scratching the blacktop and shuffling through the grass. She narrowed her eyes. A pair of footsteps started towards her, but nothing emerged from the darkness. Jane backed for the passenger's side door, not taking her eyes off the street. Her unseen stalker retreated behind the house. Her bedroom window shattered.
Daria took Trent's arm and led him towards the driver's side door. He nodded, pocketed the flashlight, and slipped behind the wheel. Jane slid into the passenger's seat and shot glances over her brother's shoulder towards the vacant house. Daria carefully climbed into the backseat and waited as Trent found the key and started the ignition. Footsteps fled from the miraculous roar of the engine. Trent's fingers latched tightly onto the wheel. The Plymouth lurched forward with its head- and taillights burning. Jane craned her head back. The crimson glow through the rear window revealed nothing but the empty sidewalk and lawns.
The Plymouth's next lurch returned her attention to the windshield. They pulled from the curb and out into the empty street. "Did you summon these demonic forces yourself, or did they follow you home? I'd like to know what sort of god I'm gonna be sacrificed to."
"I don't know what they are or where they are. And I'd rather none of us found out. Right now, we need to make sure my family's okay. Or get them out, too."
"I'm just wondering, if we're suddenly going to be swarmed by Deadites. Or some very dedicated fans with lots of time and stealth gear on their hands. If we're gonna rescue your family, you'd better be quick."
"I'll duct tape Quinn and chuck her in if I have to. Or maybe if we're lucky, we can all pile into Dad's Lexus."
"Hope he doesn't drive. I can already hear him blaming our premature demise on his dearly departed father making a deal with The Devil. But if you're serious–"
"Push comes to shove, you guys go on without me. I'll occupy those dark forces with my biting wit long enough to ensure your escape."
Jane stared at her friend. "You know there's no way I'm gonna let that happen. I'm still the fastest runner in Lawndale."
Daria gave Jane a little smile, which wilted as she glanced out the window. The line of houses repeated over and over. "Trent, where are we going?"
"I thought we were going to your place. I think this is the way…isn't it?" Trent checked the approaching lawns for any sign the Morgendorffers' home. "I think it's…"
"Turn around, I think we went the wrong way," Daria spoke up.
Trent gave her a wary look in the rearview mirror. She nodded. Nodding in turn, Trent spun the Plymouth around, arms and hands tensing in preparation for what might reveal itself in the headlights. A rain-spotted newspaper drifted to the right side of the road. Trent flicked on the high beams. Their eyes widened.
The Lane house manifested from a pile of shapeless blacks and blues that bled up from the grass. More footsteps shot around the building and vanished into the backyard. Trent narrowed his eyes. The front door swung open. Footsteps darted up and down the stairs, toppling the plastic candle inside. Daria took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the road. Trent jabbed at the accelerator. The Plymouth reeled past the house, still showing no trace of their stalkers around the darkened corner. In the rearview, their house dissolved into another blurred mess of blacks and blues. His knuckles began to pale.
"How did that– ?" Jane clutched her head. "Daria, what's going on?"
"I don't know, but this wasn't my doing," Daria replied.
Jane sighed and pushed her hands back into her lap. "I suppose it'd be in bad taste if I suggested this is our own personal Hell?"
"No, there'd definitely be other people. And there's only one Deadly Sin."
Trent's fingers slackened on the wheel and his foot eased on the pedal. Despite the tension, he barked out another little laugh-cough. "What can I say? Sloth leads to innovation. I think you told me that once, Janey."
Jane tried to smirk. "The current circumstances tell me I shouldn't burst your bubble on that one."
For the next few minutes, the three drove in silence. The Plymouth's headlights scanned empty yards and sidewalks, paired with equally empty houses. Jane tried to search inside each one that passed. The windows may as well have been walls of obsidian. Their driveways were suspiciously clear of any other vehicles. And aside from another newspaper caught atop a mailbox, no other sign of human occupation greeted them. She leaned into her seat.
"Score one for the solipsists," Daria murmured.
"I'd say that'd be you, but I know we would've at least seen Kevin on fire if this was all your doing."
Daria closed her eyes. When she reopened them, the Plymouth was still driving. The sky above was still starless. She looked past the Lane siblings. Still no sign of her house. Daria reclosed her eyes. Images of her living room, her padded bedroom, the bin overturned in her father's never-ending war with the squirrels flashed. But her mind grew hazy once she slid away from the sidewalk. She tried to focus. Every following mental image of her home and the route to it blurred into a featureless black heap. Daria reopened her eyes.
Jane frowned. "What's wrong?"
Trent slammed his foot into the brake. His sister angrily whirled towards him. But before she could chew him out, she spotted their house once again outside her window. One of the upper story windows vomited glass shards and splintered wood into the front yard. Jane's hand seized the door handle. Daria's fingers immediately fastened onto her shoulder. Her grip tightened as a section of the roof caved. A sizeable wedge bounced off the Plymouth's hood, skidding just short of colliding with the windshield before crashing into the blacktop.
Jane watched stricken as the rest of the roof peeled from the top, flaking into skin flaps of shingles and support beams. Two more windows gnashed their newfound teeth and ejected into the grass. Another wedge from the top embedded itself a few feet from the passenger's side door. A single, weak amber light punctured through the dark mass before it was swiftly consumed between gaping mouths of black. Her mind painted a picture of her various canvases smeared into dust-sodden heaps of soiled paint and crushed wood. Her fingers curled around an invisible brush. Her hands shook.
Lawndale's usual representative of Sloth found life in his feet and jammed the accelerator. And miraculously, the car continued to function without spurting and bursting a valve in its valiant escape from the crumbling Casa Lane. Daria's hand fell from Jane's shoulder. Her friend slowly released her hold on the door handle and watched the family home crack into the ensuring darkness. Her gaze returned to Daria. "Thanks for the heads up, Nostradarius. You were bound to get one right one of these days," she quipped half-heartedly.
"It helps that I'm so vague," Daria responded just as feebly. "I'm sorry, Jane. If I really was in control, none of this would've happened."
"I know. But maybe your next nightmare could demolish someone else's house." Jane shook her head. "Sorry."
"Don't be. Right now, all I want is to get back home. But since the universe itself is conspiring against us, I don't see that happening anytime soon."
"So, then what? We just ride on until we run out of gas?" Jane winced and quickly checked the dimly-lit meters.
"It's probably safer than being out there," Trent spoke up.
Daria sank a little further into the backseat. "I'm sorry, Trent."
"Hey, if you hadn't come around, Jane and I wouldn't be here, right?"
"He has a point. We may be homeless, but at least our house didn't eat us alive."
This time. Daria folded her hands. "I'm sorry."
Trent hmmmed. "That doesn't look right."
Daria looked up. A few of the houses had vanished from the street. She blinked and adjusted her glasses. Another house to her right faded into the sky. A loud cough spurted beneath the Plymouth's scratched hood. Daria grimaced as the car slid sharply to the left. Trent regripped the wheel and steadied it. Another house on the left vanished as Daria blinked. Her eyes shifted to the middle of the headlit road. The tarmac darkened. Trent followed her gaze. He steered as hard to the left as he could. Another cough cracked beneath the hood. The car swayed, its front wheels treading too close to the pitch black bleeding into the street. Daria reached for her friends' shoulders. Jane shot her a frightened glance just as the Plymouth's passenger side listed off the crumbling
Daria blinked.
"Geez, I haven't even started yet. Don't tell me you're getting sleepy already."
"I'm catching your brother's narcolepsy." Daria searched around. The backyard beneath the starless sky was replaced with Jane's well-lit bedroom. Like before, an easel stood in front of the window, obscuring whatever might or might not reside below with a so-far blank canvas slab. Daria looked down at her hands gripping into Jane's blanket.
Jane stood at the left corner of her vision, arming herself with a couple paintbrushes and a tube of ultramarine. "I'm thinking something with a lot of water, but I can't decide between someone lost at sea or something lurking beneath. Which appeals more to your macabre sense of style?"
Daria inspected the door behind them. "Um…"
"All right, if that's too morbid, I'll tone it down. No need to run away when you just got here."
"When did I get here?"
Jane blinked. "Um, a few minutes ago, I think."
"You think?"
"I dunno, I asked you to come over to help me figure out a new painting, something that'll terrify the masses with my genius. And last time I checked, you weren't an Abra in disguise. The tail would've been a dead giveaway. So we can rule out teleportation."
"I don't know what's stranger: that you made a Pokémon reference, or that I understood it. In any case, a creature that spends all day sleeping is more your speed."
"Don't suppose that means I'll catch Trent levitating in his room one of these days?"
"Miracles happen." Daria noticed the corner of Jane's mouth twitch. "Where's Trent?"
"That's a change. You usually aren't so direct with that sort of thing."
"Funny." Daria rechecked the window past the easel. "Forgive me for asking, but what do you remember?"
Jane lowered the paintbrushes and tube. "What do you mean?"
"You remember it, don't you, Jane?"
"Gonna have to be a little more specific than that. I've had a very eventful life up to this point."
"We were in Trent's car."
"When did that happen?" Jane replied a little too quickly. "We'd make better progress hoofing it."
Daria stared directly at her. "We were in Trent's car. I got you both out of this house. Everything was dark."
"As it is during the night."
The bespectacled girl's expression didn't budge.
Jane chuckled mirthlessly. "Can't blame me for lightening the mood a little, can ya?" Daria's expression still held. Jane groaned and set the brushes and tube onto a nearby dresser. "Okay, I remember something like that happening. You rushed us out of here, and I stopped doubting your doomsday prophecy the second a chunk of the roof hit the car. It got really dark, but after that, I'm right here in my room, with you sitting on the bed." She shrugged. "Maybe Trent's narcolepsy is contagious."
"Maybe." Daria stood from the bed and walked past Jane towards the window. Out in the yard, she could make out a familiar, faint outline. "The Naming Gazebo rises again."
Jane carefully sidled around the easel and looked down. She frowned. "Okay, what's going on? That shouldn't be there. My dad had it chopped down. I specifically remember thrashing Wind over that little debacle."
"It was there, the first time. I remember, now."
"First time?"
Daria stepped away from the window. "I woke up in your backyard. No, not exactly that. I was just there. I don't know why, but I was there. The first time it happened, I was standing in that gazebo. The next couple times before now, it wasn't. And this time, I came to in your room. And neither of us have any memory of showing up here, do we?"
"So, what, we're trapped in some nightmarish rendition of Groundhog Day?"
"I don't know. All I know is that this is the fourth time I've suddenly come to around your house with no explanation of how I got there." Daria frowned at the ceiling. "And I'm not looking forward to another encore presentation."
Jane turned back to her window. The gazebo was still there, despite her memories of her father and a reluctant Trent hacking the damned thing to splinters. She shook her head. "Did we die?"
"What?"
"Did we die?" Jane redirected her gaze onto Daria. "Did we get killed and have to start all over again? Are we dead?"
"I don't know, Jane. But between the house and the void outside, we don't have anywhere else to go."
"…you're serious."
Daria nodded and sat back down. "Is Trent asleep?"
"He is wont to slumber all hours of the day." Jane eyed the ceiling. She wasn't sure if that was indeed a crack forming over Daria's head. "There's really nothing out there, is there?"
"There's something, but I really don't wanna find out." Daria set her glasses atop the blanket. "We could make a run for it, but I doubt we'll get any further than we did, last time."
Jane considered. "Yeah, it'd help if the universe didn't take cues from Hanna-Barbera cartoons."
Daria let out an empty chuckle.
Jane glanced at the easel. "What are we supposed to do?"
"We wait until something happens. So I guess that depends on how you feel about getting eaten by a house or falling into a deep, dark hole."
"If it's the same to you, I'd rather defiantly fight back than lie down in submission." Jane quickly fitted on her shoes. "I'm gonna take a look outside. If anything's lurking around, I'll knock it back to the Stone Age."
Daria warily eyed the window and door.
Jane stopped in front of her. "I'm sorry, but I don't just wait for something like that to happen. And I'm not letting you do that, either. We'll be all right. After all, I am the fastest runner in Lawndale."
After a few solemn seconds, her friend finally nodded and rose to her feet. "Defeatism's overrated, anyway."
"Save the defeatism when we return to our normal reality." Jane peered at the canvas and art supplies. She shook her head. "For once I must deny myself the opportunity for great art."
"Martyr."
"Damn right." Jane carefully opened the door and rechecked the ceiling. The crack that had formed over Daria's head retreated – assuming it was ever there. "I'd say something reassuring, but we've probably tempted fate enough as it is."
"We? You're the defiant one, Lane."
"And now you're an accomplice, Morgendorffer. And I don't plan to leave you behind." Jane stepped into the hallway, carting Daria by the wrist. Nearby, another door was propped open. She released Daria and walked towards it. Past the threshold, she found only an unoccupied bed and an abandoned guitar. She frowned. "Looks like he's made a break for it. This shared delusion of ours brings out the best in others."
"If he starts singing Doors covers, we'll know to panic." Daria glanced at the stairs. "Trent's probably still outside. He was asleep in the front yard until I showed up."
"He better be." Jane cast another look at the canvas in her room. She shook her head and killed the light. Below, the plastic candle's weak amber glow nearly smothered out. "Oh, goodie. I do so love ambient lightning." She turned to Daria. "We're in this together."
"You made me an accomplice. I have no choice in the matter."
"Glad you see it my way."
Jane started down the stairs, searching as much of the dimly-lit room as she could. At the base, she paused a moment to look at her feet. Her eyes widened. Daria's hand at her shoulder brought her back. Jane groaned and marched directly to the door. The plastic candle's light flickered. She immediately twisted the knob and pulled Daria outside. Something rustled atop the grass at the slamming of the door behind them.
Trent slowly rose to his feet, reaching for the pocket flashlight. "You might wanna keep it down. It's really late."
"There's no one else here but us." Jane quickly checked both sides of the darkened street just to be sure. "Just answer me this. Do you remember running out of the house and trying to get Daria back to her place?"
"Yeah, I had a weird dream like that." Trent finally recovered the flashlight and clicked its beam over the parked Plymouth. "I woke up here in the front yard. But Daria was here, last time."
"And a déjà vu to you, too." Jane turned back to the house. So far, the damned thing hadn't started to burst and gnash its glassy and wooden teeth. She walked past her brother and stopped by the Plymouth. Her eyes shifted towards the left side of the street. Pitch blackness dissolved the edges of the sidewalks and houses trailing beyond. Jane stood there a few seconds longer.
"Janey, what are you–?"
Footsteps punctured the dead silence ahead of her. Jane's eyes narrowed. She slowly stepped back towards the Plymouth. The footsteps trailed quickly to the right. Trent's blue-tinted flashlight beam swept over her shoulder. Another set of footsteps bolted to the left. Keeping her narrowed eyes onto the street, Jane slowly followed the beam back to Daria and Trent. Her brother dutifully clicked off the light. The footsteps receded into the dark. Jane risked a glance at Daria. Her friend didn't budge.
Trent pushed the flashlight back into his pocket. "What's going on?"
"A really half-assed horror story." Jane returned her attention to the road. Another trail of footsteps slid towards the right. She stepped forward, prepared to curse and run after their unseen stalkers, when another one vanished behind their house. "So much for scaring 'em off."
Daria turned. Of course, she could only make out the faint outlines of the sidewalk, grass, and the edge of Casa Lane. She considered, and then held out her right hand as she began to walk. Her fingers soon brushed painted wood.
Jane caught up. "What are you doing?"
"Trying something. I started in your backyard those previous times. If I go backwards, maybe things'll reverse themselves."
"You really think that's gonna work? One of them's back there."
"If it doesn't, I'll see you again in a few minutes, fully intact and still with no memory of how I ended up here."
Jane's fingers dug into her arm. "I thought I made myself clear: you are not going alone. If someone's waiting to get the drop on us, I'll make sure they never do it again." She craned her head back. "Think you could shed some light on this?"
"Yeah." The blue-tinted beam glided past Daria's feet and paused halfway down the side yard. Trent stopped next to Daria. "I'm here for you."
"Double duty as a meat shield, swell."
"Not if I can help it."
Daria gave Jane a little smile and resumed walking. Soon enough, her right boot and the flashlight beam caught the discarded Ultra Cola bottle. She stepped around, returning her gaze towards the outline of the gazebo. Trent paused. "Um, Janey, why is that still there? I remember Dad making me chop it down."
"Space is warped and time is bendable." Catching his raised eyebrow, Jane shrugged. "I have no idea."
Daria held out her arms and entered the backyard. Past the flashlight's beam, she didn't see anything lying in wait. Jane walked ahead of her, hands curling into fists. Trent glanced warily at Daria. She shook her head and moved towards the gazebo. "It started here, the first time. I woke up here, and I always come back here. Working backwards might make this nightmare end."
Trent frowned, but said nothing. Jane stepped close behind Daria, until the latter raised her hand. The footsteps distantly brushed past the other side of the house. Daria continued towards the gazebo, shuffling her boots through the grass and keeping her gaze locked onto the boards in the middle. The footsteps clattered across the street. Daria shot her hand into the air and kept walking. She reached the front step and glanced towards Jane and Trent. Her friends snapped their heads towards the sound of a kicked bottle. Daria began to turn around.
A murmur drew her attention back to the gazebo. Daria blinked. Her feet now stood atop the second step. The unseen party advancing onto her friends retreated into the street. Jane yelled. Her right boot began to sink. Daria looked down. Harsh white light pulsed through the cracks. She tried to tug herself free. The white glow washed over the top of her feet. Flashes of jet black punctured her vision. Her right foot dropped.
Jane's eyes widened as Daria's head collided with the railing. Their stalkers stomped towards the other side of the house. She bowed her head and ran for the gazebo. Trent's voice and flashlight's beam swept past her shoulder. Her right boot crunched a crumpled heap of glass and frames hanging off the first step. Stifling an annoyed growl, Jane carefully knelt next to Daria and tried to lift her to her feet. Her brother soon wrapped his arms carefully around Daria's waist. Jane took the flashlight and examined her friend's face. Blood trickled from her nostrils.
The invisible chorus resumed their approach. "Will you just leave us alone?!" Jane yelled. She gritted her teeth once she recalled how close she was to Daria's left ear. "It's gonna be okay. You're just a little dinged up. I'll whip out the glue gun. You'll be good as new."
Daria murmured.
"That's the spirit. Show that concussion who's boss. Trent, we gotta get her in the house."
"Can we? What about…?"
Jane swore under her breath. "Let's get her to the side yard and wait this out. And as soon as she's better, I'm gonna get your car and flatten that damn gazebo."
"Might as well. Doubt I'll get any practice in at this point."
"Trent–"
"Bad joke. I'm seriously trying not to panic."
Daria murmured a little more.
"She's a fighter, all right. Shame the animators couldn't spring for a hospital set."
Jane nodded to Trent. They slowly guided Daria towards the side yard, keeping her head supported as best as they could. The footsteps danced around the front. Jane ignored them and looked for the clearest spot on the grass away from the wall. They carefully lowered her into a sitting position. Trent continued supporting Daria's head while Jane risked a look into the street. The cowards didn't appear, but still felt the need to intrude at a distance. She ran towards the sidewalk. "Get out of here! Get the hell out of here!"
"Jane!" Trent almost rose after her, until the back of Daria's head shifted against his palm. He reluctantly looked away from his sister. "Daria?" A little more blood trickled from her left nostril. "You still with us?"
Daria's eyes slowly reopened and blinked twice before settling onto the grass around her knees. Faint copper slipped between her lips. She coughed and wiped the back of her left hand beneath her nose. "Trent?"
"I'm here, Daria."
"Where's…?" Daria coughed again, spattering flecks of red into the grass and atop her right knee.
Trent's face sank. "Are you–?"
Daria's head jerked up, nearly spooking Trent into dropping his hand. "I'll be fine. I know what's going on. Where's Jane?"
Summoned by those magic words, Jane returned thankfully unharmed and knelt in front of Daria. Trent offered her the flashlight with his free hand. She accepted it and clicked it above Daria's head. Jane's face wrinkled a bit at the twin strands of black-accented red running from her friend's nostrils. "And she's back, ladies and gentlemen. Tell me you at least kicked Satan in the balls for doing all this."
"No, this isn't The Prince of Darkness's style." Daria took a low breath. "I know what's going on."
"You sure about that? You took a pretty nasty fall."
"You don't have to talk," Trent added. "Not if it–"
"Jane, Trent, please do me a little favor."
"Anything, amiga, name it. So long as it's not a sponge bath."
Daria briefly flashed a smile. "Listen closely."
"Listen to what? Wait, you don't mean those jerks who've been chasing us around all night, do you? I already tried to hunting 'em down, but–"
"Jane, listen a little closer. Please."
"Very well, Morgendorffer." Jane leaned back and listened. The footsteps resumed clattering across the sidewalk. She frowned and rechecked the blood drying under Daria's nostrils. The footsteps…slowed. Her head and the flashlight's beam tilted towards the sidewalk. No one maneuvered past the parked Plymouth's grill to escape her gaze. But she could still hear them. Although now that she really listened, their footfalls had a strange clacking quality. Almost like… Her eyes widened.
"So it isn't just me. I'm glad."
Jane turned back to Daria, keeping the beam above her head. She glanced at Trent. He shut his eyes and kept his hand behind Daria's head. Jane looked down at Daria. She did likewise, breathing slowly and placing her hands atop her knees. Jane looked up. Several tiles peeled and curved into a fang aimed at the starless sky. At the corner of her eye, the Plymouth and sidewalk dissolved. Another chunk of the roof broke away and collided with the ground behind her. Trent pulled Daria to his chest. Jane's arms lowered. The flashlight tumbled from her fingers and sank into the grass. Wooden boards snapped. Windows shattered.
Jane rose to her feet and embraced them, shielding as much of Daria and Trent as she could. Her eyes remained open, even as the roof finally caved in and collapsed right on top of them.
Starbursts of white detonated amidst the darkness. Jane raised her hand over her eyes and blinked hard. The white light spooled into the corner, settling in the form of a portrait-sized canvas fitted with splashes of brown. Greens and reds and other wondrous shades spilled beneath her feet and over her shoulders. She blinked again. Paintbrushes and tubes lined her desk and the canvas' base. Jane stepped closer. Past the canvas, the window revealed the edge of the gazebo. "Coulda sworn that…" She stepped back.
"If you ignore it long enough, maybe it'll go away."
Jane nearly jumped. "Geez, Daria, don't do that. My heart's already missed its daily dose of red wine."
"Considering the state we're in right now, caffeine's dangerous enough."
She spotted Daria sitting atop the bed. Her glasses had returned fully intact, as had that acerbic wit that served them both so well over the years. Jane sighed. "I really wish it was just a caffeine fever dream. Of course now that I've said that, I'm sure Trent'll try to spin a few verses from it." She immediately checked the door.
Daria rose from the bed and set her hand on Jane's shoulder. "He's fine. I heard him snoring a little bit ago. He'll sleep through the remainder of this apocalypse."
"That makes him the sane one." Jane slowly inhaled. "So, now what? Do we wait for Round Five? Should we get a head-start?"
"I don't think we'll have to wait long." Daria nodded at the window.
Jane turned. The gazebo vanished, along with every inch of the backyard not illuminated by her bedroom window. "All that grass was too much maintenance, anyway." She briefly closed her eyes and thought of the last thing she had heard out there. "Guess they're giving up."
"They're definitely out of ideas." Daria sighed. "I'm sorry."
"For what? You didn't make this happen."
"No, but you're going down with me."
"You really weren't listening, were you? I won't leave you behind. And if this really is the end, I'm glad you're here with me."
Daria smiled. "Same. But it'd sound less convincing coming out of me."
Jane lightly slugged her amiga's shoulder. "Don't change. Now, let's celebrate the last five or so minutes of existence. I've got an idea for a painting."
"Defiant to the end. You sure you'll have enough time?"
"My hands can work as quickly as my feet." Jane stood before the easel and considered her selection of blues, blacks, grays, and whites. She paused, then replaced the tubes, palette, and paintbrushes. "We gotta get Trent. Wouldn't be fair to go into that night without the rest of my family close-by."
Daria's face began to sink.
Jane set her hand at Daria's shoulder. "I'm sure they're fine, wherever they are. I bet when this is all over, you'll see 'em again."
"One can hope."
"Humor me. Now, let's get Trent in here. I could use a little ambient music while the world disappears."
"So we're going out with a whimper, then?"
"Could go out with a bang, but then I'd have to leave the room."
"Don't try to scare me off now, Lane."
"Wouldn't try."
Daria nodded and stepped out, leaving the door open behind her. Jane returned to her art supplies, selected a brush, and applied a dab of black to her palette. Her hand hovered over the canvas. She nodded and swept an arc in the center. The light flickered a little. Thoughts of the crumbling ceiling, caving street, and Daria's bleeding nose came back to her. Jane lightly shook her head and redipped the brush for another shot of black.
"Caffeine fever dream, you're making me scream, like the headaches you give me, from bad ice cream."
Jane smirked, not taking her eyes off the canvas. "You had to get him started."
"You wanted the ambiance."
Trent sat on the edge of Jane's bed and strummed his guitar. "Caffeine fever dream, you're breaking the seams, of my lonely heart, and my…" He paused. "No, can't rhyme "dream" with "dreams", can I?"
"Not until you form the chorus."
Trent laugh-coughed and looked at the window. His face tightened. "Janey…"
"Don't worry about it, Trent. We're just stuck in the caffeine fever dream. We'll wake up soon enough. In the meantime, I'm indulging my creative spirit. Figured you could do likewise."
"Hmmmm, good point."
"And if the lyrics don't work, remember you'll get a do-over when you're fully conscious."
"Hmm… 'Caffeine fever dream, you'll do it again, try to scare me, but I'll never leave my friends.'"
"We're dreaming, all right."
"Come now, Daria. I'm painting, he's songwriting. The least you could do is contribute a little artistic endeavor of your own. Like dancing, perhaps. You've certainly got boots to kick."
"And if you step a little closer, I'll oblige."
"'Oblige me one last wish, don't crush me with your teeth, spare us frightened children, don't turn us into ground beef'." Trent laughed quietly. "Thank God Jesse's not around to hear that."
"It's a rough draft. It'll get better with age." Daria smiled. "Thanks for helping me."
"You're like family, Daria. That, and Jane would do the unspeakable if anything happened to you."
"Oh, you can speak about it; it's just not nice." Jane lowered her paintbrush and stepped back. "It's a work in progress, but what do you think?"
Daria and Trent looked up. A darkened figure sat in the middle of the canvas, lit by a small screen. The curving fingers of a malformed left hand swept over a scattering of gray-accented keys. Dark blues and charcoal grays haloed the figure's hunched head. Leaning in a bit closer, Daria could spy a small blotch of red carved around a tiny X. Wisps of white and shale gray trailed a dwindling stream of dashes leaking from the screen over the figure's head.
"Cool," Trent spoke. "Blacks and blues and grays really work together."
"Seems a little on-the-nose," Daria mused.
Jane smirked and shrugged. "The world's ending outside, Daria Morgendorffer. I'm sure subtlety took a cab home by now. I call it, "Descent into Madness"."
Daria smirked in turn. "Or, "Gazebo"."
"I'll have to remember that one."
Jane turned towards the window. The glass vanished. The light in the room dimmed. She sighed and walked over towards Trent. Her brother readied to set his guitar aside. She shook her head and waved Daria over. Her best friend sat to her left. Trent stole one last glance at the canvas and strummed a few notes. Jane and Daria exchanged small smirks, just like always, and closed their eyes. A few more notes played as the floor vanished beneath their feet. Distant footfalls rang out and fell silent.
"Jane?"
"Yeah?"
"See you on the other side."
"Naturally."
The bed faded away, along with the walls behind them.
"And if the gazebo's still there when we do wake up?"
Jane chuckled quietly. "You always have to spoil the moment, don't you, Morgendorrfer?"
