Nathan wakes up to a motion-activated alarm with a video of him several minutes into the future, pounding on the front door.
Nathan could have sworn his smartwatch was set to bedtime mode when it buzzed him awake. He moved his wrist to his face while avoiding waking up his husband. It took several seconds for his eyes to focus and his brain to process the message on his watch: “There is motion at your front door.”
“What is it?” Grayson mumbled, partly awake.
“I’m sure it’s just a cat,” Nathan whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
“Check it, so your imagination doesn’t keep you awake, again.”
“Hey, that story won me an award.”
Grayson rolled over to the side, ignoring him. Nathan reached for his phone on his nightstand, missing it during his first attempt but grabbing it on the second. He opened the notification, bringing up a video feed of himself pounding on the front door. The version of himself in the video wore the same bison t-shirt and pajama pants he had on now. In the video, he ran up to the door, pounded on it, searched through his pockets, and ran off-screen. He watched the video a second time before shaking his husband fully awake.
“What? What?” Grayson said. Nathan shoved the phone in his face, forcing Grayson to watch. Grayson sat up. All he could say was, “What the hell?”
“I know.”
“Hold on, what time is it?”
Nathan looked at his watch. “It’s 2:37 am.”
“Look at the timestamp. It says 2:48.”
“Wait, that’s like 10 minutes from now.”
Nathan tossed off the sheets and walked over to the bedroom window. Dangling from a rope net in their front yard, a man in a white suit with pink accents and a woman in a red dress waved at him when they noticed him peeking outside.
“There are people caught in a net in our tree,” Nathan said in disbelief.
“You’re joking,” Grayson said as he rushed to the window. “No, you’re not.”
“You stay here while I go talk to them,” Nathan said.
Grayson nodded, grabbing his cellphone just in case while Nathan stepped outside.
“See, I told you that would get him to come outside,” the man in the white suit said to his sibling.
The woman sighed and tossed him a gold coin, which he caught with a smug smile.
“I’m surprised the video we had of him covered in blood didn’t cause him to come outside,” the woman in the red dress remarked as she brushed aside her raven black hair.
“Okay, what is going on?” Nathan asked. “And who are you, and how did you get…like this?”
“Ah, Nathan!” the man in the white suit greeted with a warm smile like they were old friends. “In the order asked, we’re trying to catch a monster, I’m Loki, and this is Raven, and we didn’t catch the monster.”
Nathan chuckled and starting looking around for cameras. “This is a prank show, isn’t it?”
“No, we’re trying to catch the monster you set free the first time we met,” Raven said without snapping at him.
“The first time we met?” Nathan repeated.
“Yes,” Loki answered. “This is like the….”
“34th time,” Raven added.
“34th time we’ve met,” Loki finished. “We can’t seem to leave until we manually set time back in order.”
Loki rolled his eyes during the word “manually” as things would automatically set themselves in order. Before Nathan could respond, a large crash erupted from his backyard. Nathan thought it sounded like a battery ram smashed through his backdoor. He ran to his front door, as going through would be faster than around. Nathan tried to open the door, but something was blocking it. He pounded on the door, calling out for Grayson. Nathan pushed on the door again, with no luck. He ran back to the two strangers in his tree for answers.
“Seriously, what is going on?” Nathan demanded.
“It sounds like the monster went around back,” Loki said.
“We should set up our motion-activated trap there next time,” Raven said.
“Next time?” Nathan shouted. “What do you mean next time?”
“Once the monster kills someone, we reset to 2:30,” Raven explained.
Grayson’s scream pierced through the walls to the outside.
“Too late,” Loki sang.
Nathan woke up to the buzz of his smartwatch.
I’ve been mauling over the writing prompt that inspired this story for some time, but when I finally sat down and wrote it, the story came out. The prompt was: “‘There is motion at your front door’ – You groggily awake to the notification on your smartwatch. You check the video on your phone and see yourself frantically trying to open the door. The timestamp reads 2:48 AM. You look at your watch. It’s 2:37 AM.”
When I first saw this prompt, I thought it would be perfect for Loki and Raven, which at the time, I got this beautiful piece of artwork done by Janine De Guzman of my characters. Janie is also responsible for this story’s amazing cover art.
While driving to visit his parents for Mother’s Day weekend, Junfeng finds himself on an alien planet where he is gifted with a shovel with the power to bury any problem or dig up the solution to any problem.
Junfeng took the blood-stained shovel that the alien thrust into his hands. With his car stuck in a sand dune when he was in a forest a moment ago, he felt denying the shovel from the strange purple person – that was the only living being around in sight – would lead to even more trouble.
“What is this for?” Junfeng said without thinking about the words that came out of his mouth.
“I’m surprised that’s your first question,” the person said in English. “I was expecting, ‘Where am I?’ or ‘Who are you?’ Looks like I picked the right person for the job.”
“What job?”
A tentacle erupted from the sand a few steps in front of them. The top half was purple and looked like an octopus, while the bottom half was brown like a spider’s leg. With a panic scream, Junfeng smacked the tentacle, sending it to retreat to the ground.
“Yeah, sorry, those are a problem on this planet. Oh, my name is Modva. I created this shovel with the power to burry any problem or dig up the solution to your problem. Neat, huh? I still have some bugs to work out, but you can beta test those for me.”
Before Junfeng could ask anything, Modva pushed him, causing him to fall backward through a freestanding door. The door slammed shut and disappeared the second it closed. He stood up, dusted himself off, and gathered his bearings. The last of the sun’s rays were settling behind the trees. A familiar, in the sense that was from Earth, car drove past him.
“Looks like I’m back in Canada,” Junfeng said, reasonably certain he was at the same spot before he wound up on a desert planet. He had only taken his eyes off the road for a second to get a drink of water, and when he looked up, he crashed into a pile of sand. “And I guess my car didn’t make it back with me.”
Junfeng remembered what the person said about the shovel being able to dig up solutions to problems. With nothing to lose, he walked over to a patch of dirt and started digging.
“Maybe I’ll unbury a nice car, like a Tesla or something,” Junfeng mumbled.
After digging a small hole, a light shined through. The ground rumbled. Junfeng stepped back as a brand new Tesla car drove out from the dirt. He walked around, inspecting the silver vehicle to make sure it was real. He looked back at the hole, and it patched itself up. He put the shovel in the backseat and got in the driver’s seat. The car had a full charge and was ready to drive. He checked the glove compartment, and there was even insurance and title paperwork in his name. He buckled up and shifted the car into drive.
“This is going to impress my parents,” he said, bobbing his head.
Junfeng was not particularly excited about his weekend visit to his parents for Mother’s Day. While he loved his family, lately, they’ve been increasingly negative about him being a mentalist. Granted, he was barely making ends meet performing a few corporate party gigs here and there, but he was doing more each year.
I know they just want what’s best for me, he reminded himself. Hopefully, this car will show them I’m doing well, but I’m sure they can find something else to critique, like the lack of a girlfriend.
He glanced at the shovel in the backseat.
“I wonder,” he said.
Junfeng pulled over to the side of the quiet road and started to dig.
“Okay, magic shovel, bring me the perfect girlfriend,” he said, feeling a mix of awkwardness and hopefulness for making such a wish.
He was about a foot deep when a hand burst out from the ground like a zombie movie. Junfeng fell backward as a gorgeous woman with long, blond hair emerged. She appeared to be about the same age and height as him. She was unfazed by the chilly May weather with her flora pattern sundress.
The woman extended her hand out and smiled. “Hello, lover.”
Junfeng took her hand, standing back up. “Hello, there – um, what’s your name?”
The woman thought for a moment. “I don’t have one. I guess you have to choose one for me.”
“Oh, okay,” Junfeng said and thought. “How about Pearl?”
“I love it!” Pearl said, hugging him.
“All right. I think this is going to work. Now, we just need some sort of backstory before we see my parents,” Junfeng said, excited. “I can’t exactly say I dug you up.”
Pearl giggled. “I can’t wait to meet your parents! Where do they live?”
“They’re about an hour north of Vancouver,” Junfeng said. “But we’re almost there. Come inside, and we’ll work on our story.”
“This will be fun,” Pearl said as she got in the passenger seat. She pretended the dashboard was a drum set, drumming her fingers to a beat in her head while Junfeng put the shovel in the back. She stopped when Junfeng got seated. “Okay, so how about this: You saved me by pushing me out of the way from a runaway truck?”
“I think that’s a bit too far-fetched,” Junfeng said. “I was thinking of going with something more grounded like you enjoyed my performance at one of my corporate gigs.”
“I like that,” she said, slapping his leg in excitement. “Let’s say I work in HR too for this company. That’s a good job, right? Of course, it is. Plus, this story allows our story to be more natural and make you look good at being a…”
“A mentalist,” Junfeng finished.
“A mentalist. That’s so awesome, doing what you love. Not many people can say that.”
“I wish my parents would see it that way.”
“Tell me about your parents.”
“Well,” Junfeng started, thinking for a moment on what to share. “My mom, Akina, moved to Vancouver from Japan to be a TV actress. However, she changed careers and became an accountant because she said she wanted something more stable. That’s where slash how she met my dad, Nathan, who owns a movie prop equipment rental company.”
“Do you have any siblings?” Pearl asked as Junfeng pulled into his parents’ driveway of their country home.
“No, it’s just me.”
“Anything else I should know about your family?”
“Not that I can think of, but I’m sure you’ll get to know them over the weekend, and we can always say I didn’t tell you much. I’m sure my parents will be happy to see me with anyone. The bar of expectations for improvements is pretty low at this point.”
“Don’t you worry, Junfeng. I am going to make you look so awesome in your parents’ eyes.”
Junfeng laughed, and his face turned slightly red, thinking, Did I ever tell her my name? Surely I must’ve or shovel magic? He shrugged the thought off, and they both got out of the car.
Junfeng’s father, Nathan, opened the front door to their modern single-story log cabin home.
“You’re late,” Nathan scoffed.
“Sorry,” Pearl immediately apologized. “It was my fault. We had to go back to my place because I forgot some things.”
Nathan’s grumpy demeanor shifted to forgiveness upon seeing Pearl. “Oh, you brought a lady.”
“Yes, this is Pearl.”
“Hello,” Pearl said with a smile and a wave. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Nathan said as he opened the door, and Pearl stepped inside. He turned to Junfeng. “You got any bags?”
“Right, yes, I’ll go get those. You go inside. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Nathan nodded and closed the door behind while Junfeng jogged back to the car. He grabbed the shovel out from the backseat and opened the car truck so no one could see him dig up two overnight suitcases. Junfeng shook off the dirt, returned the shovel, and closed the doors. He jogged back up to the front door. With one hand holding the suitcases, he opened the door with the other. He dropped everything the moment he saw his family dangling in the air.
Pearl held his parents by their necks. Her arms were now tentacles like the kind he saw on the desert planet.
“Hi, there, lover,” Pearl greeted with a smile.
“What the hell?” Junfeng shouted. “What are you doing?”
“I was just telling your parents how wonderful you are,” Pearl explained, keeping a smile.
“No, not like this!”
“Oh,” Pearl mumbled. She squeezed tighter. “I think my way is working. Don’t worry. I’ll be done with them soon.”
Junfeng looked back and forth between his parents and Pearl before coming up with the idea to run outside and grab the shovel. He flung open the door and yanked the shovel out. His car started to move and transform on its own.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeated. He looked at his shovel. “Let’s see if I can bury this problem.”
He rammed the shovel into the dirt and flung it at the car as it took a robotic humanoid form. The soil caused the robot to screech, reminding him of the wicked witch getting wet in Wizard of Oz. He tossed another patch at the robot, weakening it more. Several shovels fulls of dirt later, the robot sank into the ground. As much as he wanted to catch his breath, he knew he had his original problem still.
Junfeng dug up one more shovel full of dirt and raced back inside. He tossed the dirt at Pearl, causing her to drop his parents. Pearl’s arms morphed back to their human form. She hissed at him like a vampire hissing at the sun and leaped at him. He ran outside, and she followed.
Before Junfeng could strike the ground with the shovel, Pearl tackled him, tossing the shovel aside as she pinned him down.
“Why are you trying to stop me?” Pearl demanded with a mix of rage and tears. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“You’re hurting my parents!”
“But they’re hurting you!”
“They’re just worried about me!”
“They’re stifling your dreams.”
“No one is stifling my dreams. The only one who can do that is me.”
Pearl screamed in pain as a pile of dirt hit her back. She fell on top of Junfeng, losing her grip over him. With her weakened, he pushed her off as another pile of dirt landed on her. She cried out as one last shovel full of dirt hit, causing her to sink into the Earth.
Junfeng’s mother, Akina, stood over him with the magical alien gadget in hand. She dropped the shovel, helped her son up, and hugged him. He hugged her back.
“I am so sorry we were so hard on you,” Akina said. “I do not know how, but she showed us one of your performances. You were really, really good.”
“Thank you,” Junfeng said. “Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that,” Akina said as she let go. She took a moment to admire her son. “Come on. Dinner is ready. I bet you have a story to share.”
Junfeng picked up the shovel. “Hold on. I should bury some suitcases before those come to life too.”
Thank you for reading! This story was inspired by the writing prompt: “You were in your car just a minute ago. Now you’re in the middle of a desert with no sign of life anywhere. Except for that person in a lab coat. They walk up to you and you notice they’re holding a shovel stained with fresh blood. A shiver goes down your spine.”
The person in the lab coat, made me think of my end-timer character, Modva, who I’ve only featured in one story so far. From there, I thought about making this shovel “magical” with the power of burying problems and digging up solutions, with it having issues in vain of the lyre from The Problematic Lyre. I got another story in mind for Modva that I think would be fitting for an October release, so stay tuned for more!
Thank you again to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing the opening scene to life! May your Mother’s Day trip remain on Earth.
With business to attend on another planet, Hades hires Sally to dog-sit his giant three-headed dog, Cerberus. As Sally takes the dog for a walk in the Underworld, they discover a locked away secret.
Sally Wilkerson wiped her brow with her arm and sighed from having just finished her mopping duties at The Creamatory of Screams. She put the mop in the grungy, yellow plastic bucket and pressed on the level, ringing out the last of the dirt.
Behind the cash register next to the ice cream station, her co-worker, Mark, counted the money. Mark took his time, making sure none of the bills were stuck together, every coin was there, credit card totals matched up, and everything was ready for the next day. Sally had learned not to interrupt because she didn’t want him to start over. She would have to wait to use one of her favorite closing puns like, “How in Hell did we do?” or “Everything good in Hell?” The puns about being in Hell, Michigan made Mark groan or roll his eyes every time, which was part of Sally’s fun. She often forgot that he was sixteen like her.
As far as tiny towns went, Sally enjoyed living in Hell. She knew all of the locals and the tourists were fun. As she pushed the mop bucket back to its station, a tornado of flames erupted in the store. Mark screamed, knocking over the cash drawer as he ducked behind the counter while Sally stood unfazed.
From the flames, a tall, slender man stepped out. He pinched out a lingering ember of fire on his dark, almost black, purple suit with red pinstripes. He inspected his reflection from the ice cream cabinet, about to adjust his hair, but realized he had taken a form where his hair consisted of a blue flame. He stroked a finger along his grizzled movie star beard with crimson red skin.
“Hiya, Mr. H!” Sally greeted.
Mark stood up, picking up the fallen cash and ignoring their guest. Hades turned to Mark, snapped his fingers, and like magic, all of the money flew back to the register in perfect order.
“Your balance is correct, by the way,” Hades said to Mark as he walked up to Sally. “Sally, I have some business on another planet to deal with, and I need you to dog-sit Cerberus for me while I’m away.”
“Oh, wow,” Sally said. “Well, as you may know, Mr. H, I’m a good dog-sitting, but you’re talking about Cerberus. That’s way out of my qualifications.”
“Isn’t Cerberus like a giant-three dog?” Mark said, recalling what he knew about Greek mythology. “Can’t he handle himself?”
“Just because you’re a badass doesn’t mean you can’t use someone watching over you,” Hades said. “Cerberus just needs someone to play with for a bit while I’m gone. It will be easy for you. Just take him for a walk.”
“Well, if you think I can handle it.”
“Excellent. You start now.”
“Hey, wait!” Mark shouted. “We still need to close up.”
Hades snapped his fingers, and from a flame portal, a brand new XBOX gaming console landed in Mark’s arms.
Mark sat the compensation down. “Have fun dog-sitting!”
Hades twilled his wrist in the air, swirling Sally and himself in a ring of fire that warped them to the Grand Library in Earth’s Underworld. The ornate green walls always made Sally think of the Statue of Liberty. The library held several floors of well-organized books, curious artifacts, and eclectic works of art. Many dogs of every breed popped out from around the brightly lit library upon Hades’ return. With tails wagging, they welcomed them. Sally got down on her knees to pet the smaller dogs while Hades gave casual head scratches to some larger dogs.
With the dogs greeted, Hades whistled. “Cerberus! You have company.”
From around a corner, a black dog the size and strength of a tank popped his three heads out. The dog walked over gently as not to cause any books to shake off the shelves. Cerberus’ middle head licked Hades’ head, temporarily putting out the blue flame hair. Hades laughed and rubbed underneath the dog’s chin.
“You be a good boy for Sally,” Hades said in a warm but stern tone. “She’s going to keep you company for a few hours while I repair things.”
Cerberus barked in acknowledgment.
Hades turned to Sally. “I’ll send someone to relieve you in a few hours. Make sure he doesn’t eat anyone he isn’t supposed to eat.”
In his flames, Hades vanished, leaving Sally hanging with questions.
Sally looked up at Cerberus into his large, red eyes. “So, do you want to go for a walkies?”
Cerberus barked and lowed his heads.
“I am I supposed to ride you?”
Cerberus wagged his tail.
Sally shrugged. “Okay, I guess I’m going to ride Cerberus.”
With the helping nudges of the other heads, Sally got up on Cerberus. The moment she got into position, Cerberus ran, causing some books to fall off the shelves. She gripped the red collar like she was holding on to the bar of a wild rollercoaster as they raced out of the library, bursting through a large double swigging wooden door and out into a cave.
It took a moment, but Sally acclimated herself to the ride. Several ghostly white transparent butterflies the size of her head crossed their path. Cerberus changed course and chased after the butterflies until they faded away. Sally laughed and petted the center head. Cerberus continued walking along a glowing green river. Sally took in the sights of the luminous green crystals and plants adoring the dusty red cave. The place smelled like an underground forest to Sally, which she wasn’t expecting, but appreciated.
As they continued down the river, Sally could no longer see the library. She was a bit concerned but also figured Cerberus knew the way back. A gentle harp melody snuck into her ears, bringing a feeling of sadness as she listened to the song.
“Where is that music coming from?” Sally said. Cerberus barked. “Can you find that sound?”
Cerberus run in the direction of the sound. As the music got louder, the cave got darker and smaller until they came to a pair of bronze doors. While the doors were huge compared to Sally, they were only the size of one of Cerberus’ heads. Cerberus pawed at the door and whimpered.
“I’ll go check it out,” Sally offered. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Cerberus lowered his heads, and Sally slid off. With a big push, she opened the door to a dome-like room. The glowing blue flames from the torches revealed piles and piles of musical instruments. Some she recognized, but many she didn’t. Sally stepped deeper into the room, and the music stopped.
“A visitor?” a voice called out, echoing in the room.
“I’m sorry,” Sally apologized as she searched for the person. “I was just following a beautiful song.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Sally,” the voice replied.
“You know my name?”
“Of course. I know everything about you, including your future.”
“You do? Where are you?”
“In the center. I’m the giant four-string harp.”
Sally found the golden harp. It was three times her size. As the harp played, each one of its strings lit up as a different color. Sally’s jaw dropped in awe of its splendor.
“I would love if you played with me,” the harp invited. “It would set me free with joy.”
Meanwhile, at the Underworld of the Green Planet, an animated skeleton of a lion that stood upright on his two feet gave Hades an update on rebuilding efforts.
“The rollercoaster is almost complete,” the skeleton lion explained over a 3D holographic map of the Underworld. “We’re still missing one of the carts for it.”
“I have someone retrieving that as well as the other items left on the surface,” Hades answered.
“Good. Once we get everything, it will be like this place never crashed on the surface.”
Twirling around in her green dress, Persephone skipped up to Hades. She rested her head on his shoulder like she was his second head.
“Is the rollercoaster fixed yet?” Persephone asked.
“We’re still putting it back together,” the lion skeleton answered.
“Sad,” Persephone said as she slumped away.
“Persephone,” Hades spoke with a gentle tone. “Would you kindly head to Earth and watch over the Underworld there? I have Sally dog-sitting Cerberus while we’re here.”
Persephone jumped into the air and started clapping. “That’s wonderful! I’m so excited to hear Apollo’s music again finally. It’s been so, so long.”
Hades laughed. “What are you talking about, Persephone? We have him locked away when he went mad after the Atlanteans left Earth.”
Persephone slouched to stop. “Oh. I thought you were finally letting him free.”
“No…Why would you think that?”
“Don’t you remember his prophecy?”
“Apollo was constantly spatting doomsday prophecies. That’s why we tricked him into transforming into a harp and locked him up.”
“I remember the one he said to you and bothers after you chained him up. It was so beautiful the way he sang it.” To the tune of a children’s melody, Persephone danced and sang, “The ice cream girl from Hell touched by the end-timers will set me free.”
The flame of Hades hair mellowed. “Oh, heavens.”
Sally approached the harp without any hesitation. She plucked a sting, filling the entire room with its note. The harp shimmered brighter and brighter, forcing Sally to shield her eyes with her arm until the light subdued. With the light gone, she saw in place of the harp a man with radiant golden skin. He shook his head, causing his long, curly brown hair to dip down to his knees.
Hades kicked down the door. Sally flinched to the sound of the door crashing into the instruments.
“Apollo!” Hades said with his fists clenched.
“Uncle Hades,” Apollo greeted with warmth. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Sally interrupted.
“Sally, go to Cerberus,” Hades said.
“Why?” Sally said. “This is Apollo. What’s he doing here?”
“I became overwhelmed with visions of the future,” Apollo explained as he walked toward Hades. “Then, Dionysus got me drunk, while Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades here locked me away here.”
“You were ranting non-stop about the destruction of a universe, someone collecting demigods, and I can’t remember what other nonsense,” Hades said, getting in front of Apollo. “You also became insistent on making sure those doomsdays would happen.”
“Not that they needed my guidance,” Apollo scoffed. “According to my original calculations, shouldn’t the universe have cracked?”
“It did, but it was resolved and turned out to be no big deal,” Hades said.
“Okay, time-out! Time-out,” Sally shouted like she was babysitting some fighting siblings.
Both Hades and Apollo looked at Sally.
Sally pointed at the ground. “Sit. Both of you.”
Hades crossed his arms. “I’m not going to sit.”
Apollo smirked. “I didn’t need to look into the future to see that coming.”
“Look,” Sally started, “I don’t know what happened back then, but Apollo hasn’t been ranting about the future since I’ve been here.”
“That is true,” Hades mumbled.
“Without as many followers believing in me, I suppose my powers have weakened over the years,” Apollo said.
Sally put her hands on her hips. “Well, it sounds like you all just need to talk it out now. Just don’t resort to locking people up or having their liver pecked out or whatever you all did in the past.”
Apollo sighed. “I guess I didn’t leave you many options back then.”
“Oh, Zeus had many options for dealing with you back then, but this one seemed the least sadistic.”
Apollo laughed. “How is my father nowadays?”
“He’s still an ass, but he’s matured.”
“I guess I should pay him a visit.”
“You should. I do know Persephone wants to see you again.”
“Oh really? Maybe I can join you for game night?”
“Haha, no. I still remember what you cheat you are.”
“Surely you got some games I can’t cheat,”
As the two walked out of the room, Sally picked up a neon purple electric guitar. She pretended to play it as she walked back to Cerberus.
This short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “As you may know, Mr. H, I have had a good experience as a professional dog sitter but clearly this is a task too monumental to take on. I mean this is Cerberus we’re talking about!”
When I saw this prompt, I pictured Sally from #TwinCities. This story takes place after their original meeting, so if you enjoy this adventure, be such to check out the first one.
Thank you to Chia Yee Liow at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life. The butterflies Chia drew I incorporated into the story.
After getting off the San Francisco trolly, a young woman receives a notification on her phone about two unread prophecies. When the first one comes true, her curiosity compiles her to investigate the second one, despite its danger.
Claudia could not think of a single previous instance of taking the San Francisco trolly with practically no other riders. There was another person, a woman with long, curly blue hair. Claudia considered dying her hair blue, but all of her friends insisted she kept her natural red hair. As she marveled over the woman’s blue hair, Claudia wondered how expensive and how long was the process to get such vibrate color for hair that went down to the knees.
The woman with blue hair glanced at Claudia, prompting Claudia to look away. The stranger smirked and looked out the window.
“Don’t stare,” Claudia whispered to herself.
Claudia turned her attention back to the empty trolly. The lack of people was nice at first, but as no one else boarded, the entire trip began to feel like a bad omen. Where is everyone? Is there a big event going on? Did something terrible happen? She could feel the whole trolly getting wider and bigger with each passing moment while the other passenger was jamming out to tunes on her headphones.
When Claudia’s stop finally arrived, she bolted out, nearly tripping on the steps on her way out. She could feel her face light up on fire with embarrassment, but the driver didn’t seem to notice as they said nothing and carried forward.
“What was that all about, Claudia?” she said to herself. “Come on, now.”
Claudia spent her first minute of freedom letting the world resize back to normal. She focused on her breathing and then listened to the sounds of the city. Feeling composed, she realized she hadn’t looked at her phone since leaving the coffee shop. She pulled out her iPhone from her laptop bag.
On the phone was a notification: “You have two unread prophecies.”
Claudia re-read the notification three times to ensure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. She thought this might’ve been something from one of her games getting her attention, but none of those had anything to do with prophecies. She tapped the banner, which brought her to her text messages.
The first message warned: “Watch out for the firebird.”
Claudia scratched her head. “There’s no such thing as a firebird.”
Curious, she scrolled down to the following message, which warned, “A woman in a black dress with a matching briefcase and a pink scarf will get off the next bus. A man in a brown suit and a brown briefcase will follow her and kill her.”
“That’s specifically odd.” Claudia put her phone back in her bag. She then corrected herself. “Or oddly specific, but totally fake still.”
As she snapped her bag close, a pair of car headlights blasted her eyes. She looked up to a red convertible with a flaming bird painted on the hood swerving in her direction on the sidewalk. She leaped out of the way, avoiding the car. The careless driver continued to weave down the hill and around a corner.
“Idiot,” she grumbled. She paused, remembering the warning. “But there was a firebird on it.”
Claudia pulled out her phone again and re-read the second message. Consumed with curiosity, she decided to cross the street, placing her opposite of the bus stop, and waited.
She scrolled through her Instagram feed, catching up with news from her favorite local businesses and friends. There weren’t any major or terrible events she saw that would’ve warranted the trolley’s lack of people. I guess I didn’t miss out on anything, she thought. While scrolling, she kept an eye out for the bus after every few posts. The sun was almost gone, and the night was starting to take over.
She wasn’t sure what she would do if the message was true. She figured if she followed the woman, the man wouldn’t make a move on her with someone else present.
Safety in numbers, she remembered her parents drilling in her head.
As Claudia read a post about the Museum of Ice Cream, the bus approached the stop. She kept her phone out, pretending to be a typical millennial glued to the phone as the bus let out passengers. The leaving bus revealed an Asian woman in a black dress with a pink scarf. She held a black briefcase as she walked up a flight of steps with a Caucasian man in a brown suit and briefcase following her.
Claudia’s jaw dropped. “Well, fuck.”
Claudia looked both ways before jogging across the street, following the two up the stairs. The unassuming and easily missed concrete staircase provided a passage to the Ashbury Heights neighborhood and scenic city views. The woman continued up the street, walking along the sidewalk with the man not too far behind and Claudia not far behind him either. She caught strong gusts of the man’s tobacco and oak scented cologne that almost made her gag. She thought for a moment that her reaction would’ve drawn too much attention, but both strangers marched forward like they were eager to get home after a long day.
They walked past a dozen houses to a turn in the road, revealing the tiny thousand square-foot park, Mount Olympus. Claudia remembered one of her friends telling her this place was once considered the city’s geographical center. With a name like Mount Olympus, her first and only visit shattered Claudia’s grandiose expectations with disappointment. There was just an empty pedestal for a lost statue, and any views of the city were obstructed by trees and condominiums. Nothing had changed since her last visit, with the expectation that there were even fewer viewing spots of the city.
Claudia kept back as the woman walked up the stairs to the top by the pedestal and waited. The man joined her.
“Cats are dangerous creatures,” the woman said to the man.
“Not as dangerous as birds,” the man replied.
“You have the item?” the woman asked.
The man tapped on his briefcase. “I thought it would only be fitting to sell The Ring of Olympus here.”
The two exchanged briefcases. While the woman looked inside the briefcase given to her, the man reached inside the side of his jacket.
Thinking she saw a holster for a gun, she shouted, “He has a gun!”
The woman looked up at the man and immediately swung the briefcase at his face, knocking him out. As he hit the ground, a gun slid across the concrete. The woman walked over and kicked the weapon even more out of reach.
The woman looked down at Claudia. “Thanks for the warning. Are you okay?”
“I feel like I should be asking you that,” Claudia replied as she revealed herself.
The woman laughed as she walked down the stairs. “It’s my job to protect people.”
The woman extended her hand out. Claudia studied the friendly gesture for a moment before shaking her hand. The woman’s silver bracelet flashed a calm, blue light, rendering Claudia unconscious. The woman grabbed and gently laid Claudia down. She seized Claudia’s phone and tapped the screen with her bracelet, unlocking the device. She went straight to the messages, finding the prophecies.
The woman held two fingers on her bracelet and spoke into it, “Hey, I got a situation of another naive human getting one of those ‘prophecies’ to our operations. We really need to figure out who is sending these messages to people. We can’t risk getting exposed.”
From the balcony of a condominium across from the park, the blue-haired woman on the trolly with Claudia earlier spun and danced with a gigantic grin plastered across her face. She paused, leaning on the steel balcony rail as she watched backup arrive for the agent. Her grin grew even wider.
“Looks like you hit a nerve, Veritas,” she praised herself as she spun around to her freestanding door. “I’ll soon expose your villainous fraction to your organization.”
Next to Veritas was a freestanding rustic wooden door with blue glass panels and leafy, brown swirls. She opened the door, traveling back in time to watch the aftermath of the first prophecy text message she sent to a person in Hoquiam, Washington. She closed and opened the door, rewatching the scene of her prophecy text in Augusta, Maine. She closed and opened her door several times, rewatching the endings of all of her escapades. She took a long look at the one in Atlanta, Georgia. When she closed the door, her smile snapped straight.
Veritas pulled out a tablet from the air. “I think it’s time to conclude this quest and force them to reveal their truth, and who better than a journalist to do the job.”
For this short story, I wanted to expand on the mystery of, “You have 1 unread prophecy.” No prompt inspiration this time. I chose to write about San Francisco because I was thinking about Oklahoma City’s streetcars and then thought about the trolly system there. I looked around Google maps, learning about Mount Olympus, and thought that would be an interesting focal point.
For this story, I wanted to show the same thing happening to another person, but when I finished the first draft, I felt like the story was basically an alternative version with nothing new. I thought the plot over and decided to use this story to reveal the person behind the prophecy message: the end-timer, Veritas. As I shared in the story, Veritas is obsessed with the truth. She never tells a lie and believes the universe’s lies and secrets brought its downfall.
As hinted in the story’s ending, I’ve released a third story to conclude this saga. “You Have 3 Unread Prophecies” follows a morning news show host who receives three tips on his phone about the future as he spends time with his sister.
Thank you to Janine De Guzman for the fantastic scene artwork!
Drawn by an urban legend about a mysterious abandoned village, Haley “The Sounds” Riot and Robin Bee embark on an eerie adventure to uncover the truth. With Haley’s future-predicting music player in hand, the duo navigates the overgrown ruins, unraveling the secrets of a community that vanished without a trace.
UPDATE January 17, 2025: As part of a new story release, this episode has been updated to expand details and overall improve.
Haley Riot tugged on the purple musical note dangling from the retractable band around her neck. Her brand-new networker, sleek and stylized like two beamed eighth notes, sprang to life, projecting a glowing three-dimensional map into the air above her palm. The holographic display revealed their position deep within the woods, surrounded by dense clusters of trees and faint, winding trails. Beside the map hovered a swirling collage of digital postings and fragmented news clippings, each one steeped in mystery. Words like “buried treasure,” “unsolved murders,” and “ghostly apparitions” floated amidst the blur of images. Yet none of the accounts provided proof—only tales of explorers who vanished after daring to venture too close.
Haley’s jaw tightened as she studied the display, her green eyes flicking from one piece of information to the next. After solving the murder at the Kruder Hotel, she felt a pull toward unraveling more mysteries–and to better understand the enigmatic music player had a knack for predicting the future.
Behind her, Robin Bee dropped onto a moss-covered log with an audible sigh, the weight of their trek visible in the slump of her shoulders. Sweat glistened on her blue-tinted skin, her ghaukvoi physiology doing little to stave off the oppressive heat. She fanned herself halfheartedly, her gaze flicking to Haley with a mix of exasperation and curiosity.
“How much farther?” Robin asked, wiping her brow. Her tone teetered between a complaint and genuine curiosity.
Haley flicked her wrist, dismissing the glowing map with a fluid motion. The vibrant projections dissolved, allowing the woods to reclaim their shadows. “Just down this hill,” she said, pointing toward a steep incline ahead. “We’re close.”
Robin let out a low groan, leaning back against the log. “Good. I didn’t think this hike was going to turn into an endurance test.”
Haley adjusted the strap of her backpack, a sly grin playing across her face. “You really need to let me train you at the parkour gym. Besides,” she added, with a teasing glance over her shoulder, “it wouldn’t be an abandoned village if there was a light rail stop nearby.”
Robin chuckled, sitting upright to meet Haley’s gaze. “Fair point.” She gestured toward the pocket where Haley kept the music player. “So, does your magic music box have any sage advice for us before we get there? Or is it saving the ominous warnings for later?”
Haley hesitated, caught between Robin’s teasing tone and the very real questions gnawing at her own mind. Solving one murder with the music player’s cryptic guidance hadn’t erased Haley’s own doubts about the device. She fished the small device from her pocket and posed a question.
“What should we know before we approach the village?” she asked aloud then pressed the shuffle button. She read the answer for Robin. “‘Endless War.’”
Robin’s exasperated sigh was immediate. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’m ready to head out whenever you are.”
Haley frowned, tucking the music player back into her pocket. The title nagged at her, but no immediate answers came to mind. “Let’s go,” she muttered, leading the way downhill.
The steep descent forced Haley to watch her step as loose soil and jagged rocks shifted underfoot. The air seemed heavier as they ventured deeper, and the dense canopy above dimmed the sunlight. A sudden sting sliced across her calf.
“Ouch!” she yelped, glancing down to see a thin red scratch on her pale skin.
“You okay?” Robin asked, her tone sharp with concern as she stopped a few paces behind.
Haley rubbed the fresh scratch on her leg, frowning. “Something scratched me.”
Robin’s amused grin flickered as she brushed a stray leaf from her jeans. “Told you to wear pants like me,” she teased, but her smirk vanished when a sharp gust scraped across her shin. “Ow! What the—something scratched me, too.”
When Robin got scratched, Haley knew her imagination wasn’t playing tricks. While Haley was human, Robin’s thick, blue ghaukvoi skin was far tougher than her own. Before they could investigate, another sharp sting raked across their legs, then another.
“Damn it!” Haley cursed as she and Robin swatted at their legs and stumbled forward, trying to escape the invisible assault. The stinging gusts persisted, driving them downhill at a frantic pace. The attacks subsided as they reached the bottom of the hill.
Robin collapsed onto a rock, rubbing her legs as her golden eyes scanned the underbrush for their unseen attackers. A faint rustling in the tall grass caught her attention. She squinted, focusing on the chaotic movement of tiny figures.
“Wind ants,” Robin said, her voice equal parts irritation and relief.
“Wind ants?” Haley repeated, brushing dirt and leaves from her scratched calves.
Robin nodded, pointing at the shimmering insects. Their translucent bodies glimmered faintly in the dappled light as they hurled concentrated gusts of wind at one another, their movements erratic and aggressive.
“They’re territorial little bugs that attack with air currents. I read about them on the light rail,” Robin said, her tone flat. “Looks like two colonies are fighting for this hill.”
Haley’s face lit up with sudden realization. “Like they’re in an endless war!”
Robin crossed her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That’s… a bit of a stretch.”
“But it makes sense,” Haley said, the sting of the scratches forgotten in her enthusiasm. “Come on. We’re here.”
Nature had reclaimed much of the remote settlement. Vines crept along the cobblestone walls, and moss blanketed the domed roofs of the small homes. According to Haley’s research, the settlement once housed around twenty-five people who had chosen to live off the grid. A dozen dome-shaped residences encircled a now-crumbling community center, all constructed from the same brown cobblestones that had grown mottled and soft with time. Wild, overgrown gardens sprawled between the buildings, their tangled vegetation reclaiming the paths and open spaces that once connected the villagers.
“This place is actually kind of cute,” Robin admitted, scanning the area with appreciation and unease. “Not sure I’d feel the same way at night, though.”
Haley chuckled, shifting the weight of her backpack. “Good thing we’ve still got plenty of daylight to work with.”
Robin’s eyes lingered on the abandoned homes. “So, where do we start?”
Haley scanned the overgrown village, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the domed houses. “Let’s check out a few of the houses first. I want to make sure this place really is abandoned.”
Robin gave a short nod. “Lead the way.”
They approached the nearest house, the wooden door hanging askew, its rusted hinges bent like twisted metal joints. Haley knocked, her knuckles thudding against the weathered wood. “Hello?” she called, her voice cutting through the still air.
The door groaned as it shifted slightly under her knock, the sound scraping against their ears. Robin stiffened when the hinges screeched, the noise crawling up her spine. Haley pressed her hand to the door and pushed, the rough wood dragging under her palm. The gap widened enough for her to step through, her flashlight cutting into the shadows.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Haley’s voice rose as she moved cautiously into the house.
Robin hesitated, her golden eyes flicking toward the trees behind them before she followed. The air inside was dense, carrying the damp smell of rotting wood and mildew. Haley’s flashlight swept across the room, revealing a single space using furniture to create distinct areas. A dining table stood at the center, chairs tucked perfectly beneath. Candles lined the shelves and windowsills, their wicks blackened but unlit, dust clinging to their bases. The whole place felt to them like the occupants had simply walked out.
As Haley examined the dining area, the liquid in the oil lantern on the table shimmered faintly, reflecting the light from her networker. Beside the lantern was a small bottle of oil for refilling. She lifted the dusty lantern, tilting it back and forth.
“They really did live off-grid,” Haley said, returning the lantern and picking up the bottle of oil. “I don’t think I’ve seen oil like this. I wonder if they made it from some nearby plants?”
Robin opened a nearby cabinet, revealing rows of glass bottles. “I wouldn’t say they were entirely off the grid,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like they had a pretty impressive alcohol collection.”
Haley tucked the small oil bottle into her backpack as she walked over to peer into the cabinet. “Huh. Interesting.” She ran her fingers over the dusty bottle labels, her brow furrowing. “It’s strange, though. It feels like whoever lived here left in a hurry, but why didn’t they come back?”
“Maybe they didn’t get the chance,” Robin said. “Want to head back?”
Haley’s response was immediate. “Not yet. I want to check a few more houses and then see what’s inside that big building.”
The next three homes told the same unsettling story: dust-covered belongings abandoned in place, as if the occupants had simply vanished. Clothes remained folded in drawers, canned food lined the shelves, and keepsakes sat untouched on tables.
In the fourth house, something caught Haley’s eye—a crimson wooden spoon resting on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, running her fingers along its smooth surface. The sight triggered a vivid memory of the day she met Robin. Haley had decided to try a different coffee shop out when Robin spotted Haley with her rainbow hair, thinking Haley would be the perfect test subject for Robin’s new recipe. Haley could still feel the warmth of that moment—the way Robin had playfully shoved a rainbow muffin into her mouth with a spoon just like this one, her laughter filling the room.
A soft smile spread across Haley’s face as she slipped the spoon into her pocket, the memory lingering like a warm ember. Stepping outside, she turned to Robin. “Same story as the others.”
Robin crossed her arms. “I’m curious. If everyone here disappeared, how did you hear about this place?”
Haley strolled through the overgrown courtyard, recalling the story. “It was kind of random, actually. One day, I was waiting for you to get off work, sipping my latte, and overheard this conversation at the next table. They were talking about weird, unexplained stuff, and one of them brought up the Babylon Sisters Village. Apparently, they came out here to deliver something for a wedding but got delayed. When they finally arrived, the place was empty—completely abandoned. That stuck with me. So, I started digging, but there wasn’t much to find. It’s a tiny community, after all. I did see a few posts from people saying they wanted to explore the area themselves, but none of them ever followed up.”
Robin frowned. “What do you mean, ‘never followed up’? Like, they didn’t go?”
“Maybe,” Haley said, hesitating for a beat. “Or… maybe they disappeared, too.”
Robin raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And you’re not worried about disappearing?”
Haley smirked and held up her music player. “Not when I’ve got this.” When Robin gave her a skeptical look, she quickly added, “And you, of course.”
“Smooth,” Robin muttered. She gestured toward the music player. “That thing tell you how this all started?”
Haley tilted the device, as if consulting an oracle. “What caused everyone to disappear?” she asked, then tapped the shuffle button. The screen displayed the words: “My Heart is Burning.”
Robin tilted her head. “That’s—”
“Don’t finish that thought,” Haley interrupted, holding up the device again. “How does Robin feel about that news?” She tapped shuffle and grinned at the result. “Okay, now finish.”
“Spooky,” Robin deadpanned.
Haley showed her the song title on the screen, “Spooky,” prompting an exaggerated eye roll from Robin. “You set me up,” Robin muttered.
“What? Me?” Haley replied, feigning innocence. “I would never.”
Robin rolled her eyes so dramatically it was almost theatrical, then nodded toward the large dome structure at the heart of the village. “Okay, enough games. Let’s check that building now.”
“Right behind you,” Haley said, her playful smirk softening as she followed.
Blocking the wide double doors was a massive wooden crate, stamped with the logo for the retailer, Journal of Ardency, in bold, black ink. Haley ran her fingers along the weathered surface, noting the rough texture and faint splinters catching the edges of her palm. The crate looked old but sturdy, the sheer size sparked wonder about the contents.
“Let’s take a peek,” Haley said, prying the top loose with little effort. She lifted the lid just enough to shine her flashlight inside. The beam revealed a disorganized collection of wedding supplies: crumpled lace tablecloths, shimmering gold runners dulled by time, and unopened bundles of pale pink napkins. Compostable plates and cutlery were crammed into one corner, their packaging slightly yellowed with age.
Haley reached in and pulled out a chair cover embroidered with the word “Mr.” in elegant script. She turned to Robin with a proud smile.
**
“Look! This must be the wedding supplies that were left here!”
Robin ran her fingers over the fabric, feeling the soft, slightly dusty material. “This is nice. I wonder why this box is blocking the doors, though?”
“Good question.” Haley stepped back, planting her hands on the crate and giving it a hard shove. It didn’t budge. She frowned, leaning her weight into it, her boots scraping against the ground as she struggled. “What the…? Why is this thing so heavy?”
Robin crossed her arms, one brow arched in mild amusement. “Maybe it’s not supposed to move?”
Haley shot her a mock-annoyed look. “Or maybe it’s just packed to the brim. Come on, help me out?”
Robin sighed with theatrical exaggeration but couldn’t suppress the hint of a smirk. “Fine. Let’s see what’s behind this thing.”
Together, they pressed against the crate, their combined strength forcing the bulky container with a loud, grating scrape. Finally, after one last push, the crate slid far enough to clear the double doors.
Both women straightened, catching their breath. Robin adjusted her backpack and gestured toward the now-cleared doors. “Moment of truth.”
The scene inside stopped them both in their tracks. Sunlight poured through the tall, arched windows, casting golden beams across a reception hall that looked like a blank canvas for guests who never arrived. Polished wooden floors gleamed under the light, their surface so smooth the room reflected back like a mirror. The air carried a faint, almost sweet scent—like flowers long since wilted but lingering despite the lack of any plants in sight.
“Whoa,” Robin murmured, her voice low with awe. “This… isn’t what I expected.”
Haley stepped forward cautiously, her boots echoing softly against the floor. “It’s spotless,” she said, her tone edged with unease.
Robin scanned the room, her expression darkening. “All those houses we saw were covered in dust. Why isn’t this?”
Haley felt a chill creep along her spine as her gaze landed on the room’s centerpiece: a massive red rug sprawled across the floor. The fabric shimmered faintly, its crimson hue seeming to ripple like water under the sunlight.
“Check out that rug,” Haley said, pointing. “Looks… out of place, doesn’t it?”
Robin caught Haley’s arm as she took a step closer. “Wait. Something’s not right.”
Haley turned to her, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Robin’s golden eyes narrowed, fixed on the rug. “It’s too clean in here. Too perfect. This doesn’t fit with the rest of the village.”
Haley pulled her music player from her pocket. She whispered, “What danger should we be aware of here?” Her finger hovered before pressing the button.
The screen lit up with a single word: “Quicksand.”
Haley glanced at Robin, her mouth slightly agape. “Quicksand?” she repeated softly.
Robin stiffened. “Quicksand… in here?”
Haley didn’t answer. Instead, she reached into her pocket, pulling out the wooden spoon she’d found earlier. With a quick toss, she flung the spoon onto the rug.
The change was instantaneous. The fabric jolted, snapping shut like the jaws of a predatory beast. The spoon disappeared into the folds, vanishing without a trace.
Robin’s voice sliced through the stunned silence. “Run!”
The rug began to undulate, rippling and slithering toward them with unnatural speed. The couple bolted for the doors, slamming them shut behind them. They shoved the massive crate back into place with frantic urgency, their breaths coming in sharp, panicked gasps.
Gasping for air, they turned just in time to see a towering figure bounding toward them. Sunlight glinted off the dark brown fur of a sasquatch, who was carrying a bundle of tote grocery bags in his arms. “Don’t go in there!” he yelled, his deep voice laced with panic.
Haley glared at him, still catching her breath. “Too late. What the hell was that thing?”
The sasquatch hesitated, his wide eyes darting between the two women.
Robin stepped forward, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “What was it?”
The sasquatch inhaled deeply before speaking in a hushed, shame-filled tone. “A cursed carpet.”
Haley softened, her expression shifting as she turned to the towering figure. “Okay, we might be able to help. But first—how did this all begin?”
With a heavy sigh, the sasquatch lowered himself onto a nearby rock, bringing his hulking frame closer to eye level. His fur rippled under the faint breeze as his shoulders sagged. “You could say my heart was burning with pain,” he muttered, his deep voice carrying a raw edge of regret.
Haley and Robin exchanged a glance but said nothing, letting him continue.
“The woman I loved was arranged to marry someone else,” the sasquatch said, his gaze fixed on the ground. “I wanted to spook their parents, so I bought this rug from this traveling merchant. Thought it would send a message—a bad omen, you know?” He let out a bitter chuckle, though no humor existed. “They told me the rug would bring bad luck, so I placed the rug in our community center, and when the whole village came together to prepare, that damned thing came alive. It ate them all. Even her.” His voice broke slightly, and he let out a long, exhausted breath. “I’ve stayed here ever since, trying to ensure no one else gets hurt.”
He paused, his shoes tracing idle patterns in the dirt. “I thought maybe it would starve to death eventually, but… no luck.”
Haley’s face tightened, disbelief and sympathy mingling. “But the carpet’s still alive and kicking,” she said quietly.
The sasquatch nodded grimly, his large hands curling into fists.
Robin crossed her arms, her sharp golden eyes narrowing. “Did you go back to the merchant?”
“I did,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “But they were gone. I asked around the market, but no one remembered seeing them. It’s like they never existed.”
Haley reached for her music player, her fingers steady despite the tension in the air. “How do I kill the cursed carpet?” she asked, pressing shuffle. The screen displayed the answer, and she nodded with a sharp breath of determination.
“Simple enough,” she said, already turning to leave. “Be right back.”
The sasquatch tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion as he turned to Robin. “What’s she doing?”
Robin gave a slight shrug, the corners of her mouth twitching with faint amusement. “Her thing,” she replied casually. “I’m Robin, by the way.”
“Francesco,” the sasquatch replied, his voice softening as a flicker of hope broke through his weary demeanor. “And… sorry for not warning you earlier. I was out getting groceries.”
Robin waved a dismissive hand. “No worries. Just glad you’re here now.”
Haley returned moments later, clutching a glass bottle stuffed with a rag. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted faintly through the air as she approached. “Alright, open the door and be ready to close it fast,” she said, her tone sharp and decisive.
Robin and Francesco didn’t hesitate. With a shared grunt of effort, they pushed the heavy crate aside, the wood scraping loudly against the cobblestones until the double doors were exposed.
Haley struck a match, the tiny flame springing to life with a hiss. She touched the fire to the soaked rag, which ignited instantly, flames licking upward hungrily. With a single motion, she hurled the makeshift Molotov cocktail inside.
The bottle soared through the air, shattering on the massive red rug. Orange flames erupted, spreading quickly across the fabric’s surface.
The rug unleashed a piercing wail that clawed at their ears. As the flames singed away the fabric, the creature’s true form unfurled, revealing jagged, fang-like protrusions along its border that snapped and gnashed at the air. From its center, a single, lidless eye emerged, bloodshot and unblinking, fixing its gaze on them with a searing, hateful intensity.
“Close it!” Haley shouted, grabbing the door handles and slamming them shut with Robin’s help. The beast crashed against the wood, its immense weight bowing the old frame inward as Francesco heaved the crate back into place with a grunt of effort.
The sounds of crackling flames blended with guttural, otherworldly wails that seemed to seep through the doors, sending icy pricks down their spines.
“Shouldn’t this thing be dead already?” Robin yelled, pressing her shoulder hard against the door as the creature groaned under the relentless pounding.
Francesco, trembling, shook his head. “It’s a cursed entity! Of course it wouldn’t go down that easy!”
“Did the fire make it stronger or something?” Robin asked, her voice strained as her muscles locked against the force slamming into the door.
“It certainly made it mad,” Francesco muttered, his fur bristling as the door shuddered under another blow.
Haley clenched her jaw, pulling out her music player again. “What’s the next move?” she demanded, tapping shuffle. Her eyes widened as the answer flashed on the screen. “Ring of Fire,” she read aloud.
Robin, panting as she braced herself against the door, shot Haley a skeptical glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We need to trap the rug in a circle of flames,” Haley said, her eyes darting around the courtyard. She spotted rusted lanterns swaying from ropes strung between the buildings and pointed. “Francesco! Those lanterns—are they filled with oil?”
Francesco hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but they haven’t been touched in—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Haley interrupted. “Grab as many as you can!”
“Me?” Francesco questioned, his voice cracking.
“Yes, you,” Haley snapped. “You’re the tallest here. Bring them here, and I’ll pour the oil into a circle here.”
With a deep breath, Francesco leaped into action, yanking the rope to slide the lanterns down one by one. He caught each one, his large hands fumbling slightly under the weight of the rusted metal, and rushed them over.
Robin dug her heels into the cobblestones, her muscles trembling as she pressed harder against the door. The splintering wood groaned, and each blow from the creature sent vibrations rattling through her body.
Haley tossed the package of matches she found to Francesco and uncorked one of the lanterns. She sniffed the contents and recoiled as a sharp metallic tang hit her nose. The oil gleamed with a faint purple hue, glinting in the fading sunlight. She didn’t stop to question it. Whether luck or fate, this was their only shot.
She crouched and began pouring the strange oil in a wide circle in front of the building, the liquid spilling smoothly and leaving an iridescent sheen on the cobblestone. Francesco scrambled back and forth, his powerful strides carrying more lanterns as fast as he could.
The door behind Robin splintered further, the cracks spreading like jagged lightning. “How much longer, Haley?” she asked, her voice strained.
“Almost there!” Haley shouted, her hands trembling as she emptied the last lantern. The eerie sheen of the oil gleamed brighter as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the courtyard.
The door burst apart with a deafening crack, splinters flying as the rug surged through. Robin dove to the side just in time, the monstrous fabric snapping the crate into jagged shards in a single, savage motion. Frayed edges of fabric lashed outward like tentacles, each one tipped with jagged, gleaming fangs. The beast advanced, its movements unnervingly fast and predatory.
“Francesco, light it now!” Haley shouted as she and Robin sprinted to join him outside the newly formed ring.
The sasquatch struck a match, his trembling fingers nearly fumbling the stick, and flung the flame toward the glistening circle. The fire erupted with a sharp whoosh, leaping to life in an instant. But instead of the expected orange glow, the flames roared to life in a vivid, surreal purple. The flames crackled and hissed, casting threatening shadows across the courtyard.
The rug halted abruptly, its edges recoiling as if burned. The creature twisted and thrashed, but every attempt to move forward faltered against the crackling barrier. Smoke rose from the beast’s edges, and an acrid, burning scent filled the air as its body to sizzle and char.
“What is this?” Robin murmured, staring at the fire in awe.
“The oil we used is extracted from shadow blooms,” Francesco said. “People always said those plants repel evil, but I thought it was just some old myth.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Haley shouted, stepping back as the rug convulsed violently. “It’s working!”
The purple flames clung to the beast like a purification entity, spreading across the creature’s surface. The creature let out a hiss that seemed to split the air itself, its once-powerful movements becoming sluggish. The fire surged, consuming the fabric in waves, until the cursed rug collapsed into a heap of smoldering ash.
Francesco approached the remains cautiously, his hands trembling as he scooped up a handful of the ashes. They felt cool and light, almost weightless. As the wind picked up, the ashes scattered into the air, disappearing into the sunsetting sky.
“It’s over,” Francesco whispered, his voice choked with relief.
Haley stepped closer, her music player already in hand. “Let’s make sure,” she murmured, pressing shuffle. The screen flashed the song titled Dust in the Wind.
She exhaled deeply, a grin spreading across her face. “It’s done.”
Robin slumped against her, her exhaustion finally catching up as she let out a quiet sigh. “Next time, we investigate something less homicidal—like a haunted bakery or something.”
Haley laughed, slipping an arm around Robin. “Deal.”
The trio stood in the quiet aftermath, the stars above shimmering as the village finally fell silent.
Night had fallen by the time Haley and Robin arrived at the light rail station to get home in Aequus. Francesco had chosen to stay behind in the village, wrestling with the question of where he truly belonged with the curse gone, though he had promised to reflect on his path forward. Haley and Robin stepped into the empty passenger car, the quiet offering a brief reprieve. They knew more commuters would fill as they got closer to the city, but for now, they could spread out and steal a moment of peace. Without a word, Robin curled up, resting her head on Haley’s lap. The simple, tender gesture sent a warm ache through Haley’s chest, a moment of quiet connection that felt like sanctuary amidst the lingering tension of the day.
“What does that thing say about how I feel about you?” Robin asked, her voice a gentle whisper, laced with a playful curiosity.
Haley couldn’t help the grin that broke across her face. She lifted the music player and tapped shuffle. “Really love you,” she read, her voice warm and steady.
Robin’s smile deepened, her gaze softening with an emotion Haley couldn’t quite name. Hope? Longing? Or something quieter, deeper? “Do you think it has any predictions about our future together?” Robin asked, the question slipping out like a half-formed thought, almost hesitant.
Haley hesitated, just for a breath. The lightness of Robin’s question didn’t match the faint tightening in her chest. With a flick of her wrist, she raised the music player. “Alright, what do you have to say about my and Robin’s future?” she asked lightly, though her grip on the device betrayed a flicker of unease.
She pressed shuffle. The answer appeared, and for a moment, Haley’s expression faltered—just enough for doubt to creep in. Then she smirked, sliding the device into her pocket before Robin could peek. “Champagne,” she said with a playful wink, masking the real response: “Can’t Cheat Death.”
Thank you for reading my February 2021 short story!
After writing about Detective Psychon last month, I knew I wanted to feature another story about Haley “The Sounds” Riot where she was solving some sort of mystery to test the music player. I got inspired by the writing prompt, “For years, people go missing in the nearby abandoned village, sparking dozens of theories about treasure, murder, and ghosts. The culprit? A carpet that traps and drowns them like quicksand.”
Like I did for Body Drop, I also solicited song suggestions from friends that I incorporated through the story in different ways. Those songs were: Journal of Ardency by Class Actress, Spooky by Classics IV, Babylon Sisters by Steely Dan, Don’t Call Me Back (feat. Francesco Yates, DJ Lux & AJ McLean), Really Love You by Paul McCartney, and Mein Herz Brennt by Rammstein. I also tossed in a few of my shuffled songs.
Story artwork brought to life by Mikey Marchan at Design Pickle.
I updated this story on January 17, 2025, to make major improvements, including expanding the drama and setting up for future episodes.
