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My lips glistened with a rather costly lipstick—my very own blood. The noises around us faded from my mind. They became distant, so very distant, and all that mattered was her. Her, as she held me, and her, now stained with my life’s pulse liquefied. Her thin, weak arms of a scholar surrounded me, so different and distinct than those of the many men and women that had claimed my body before. The curtains fell. In the distance, I heard thunderous applause. “The show must go on,” I told…-
27.1 K • Completed
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Chapter
1.1 – mind; correlating
On the day I met Raine, the first thing I did was jerk awake in bed and vomit nightmares into my lap. That’s not quite accurate. If I could purge the nightmares like a bad meal then life would be a lot easier. No, I brought up bile and what little I’d managed to keep down over the last couple of days, then dry-heaved through the aftershocks, shaking and coated in cold sweat. The nightmares had lashed at me for two weeks; last night set a new record of unbroken pain. For a long moment I screwed my…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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1.2 – mind; correlating
“Can’t miss it” turned out to be a typically Raine-like oversight. The Medieval Metaphysics Department was hidden away in the furthest corner of Sharrowford University’s “new” building, Willow House, a snaking four-story structure of Brutalist concrete and brown glass, built in the 1960s to dominate the campus, alongside the Gothic spires and stonework of the university’s tiny old core. I’d fallen in love with the old university buildings on my very first visit. Soaring ceilings and oak…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
2.8 – providence or atoms
My stamina gave out long before we caught the Demon. I’d never been very fit. Scrawny legs, no real strength. Hadn’t gotten any serious exercise since childhood. Raine had insisted we not run. Hurrying along Sharrowford’s canted, hilly streets for over an hour was more than enough to drain what little reserves I had. I gave in on the corner of Harries Road, slowed and stumbled to a stop and doubled over with my hands on my thighs, sucking air through a raw throat. The ache in my diaphragm…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
The Class
Twilight was concerned, to say the least. She crossed the gravel streets with firm, quick steps, again clutching the outdated map Flint insisted on giving her every time she stepped out. Though she made an effort to smile and greet passersby, her brilliant mind was distracted by the very simple fact she hadn’t the faintest idea on how to give a class. How could she, when she had yet to receive one herself? This was the thought that hounded her, whispered in her ear until she turned right on…-
27.1 K • Completed
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1.3 – mind; correlating
Slipping was never the same twice. Once, when I was twelve years old, it gripped me as I stepped into the shower. A jerk and a twist and another world bloomed around me; I crept naked for hours through a rotting jungle beneath a throbbing black sun. My parents found me curled up under my bed, drooling and insensible. When I was a little older I went missing in the middle of school. Everyone recalled I’d been in biology class, but I never arrived at maths. I’d rounded a corner behind my classmates…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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2.9 – providence or atoms
Anticlimax is often far more challenging to accept than the release of action. All the best stories build up and up, then explode from sheer pressure. We expect our lives to work that way. For years I believed in my own special susceptibility to that lure, the temptation to see one’s life as a story, with myself cast in the role of the hounded, persecuted protagonist; paranoid schizophrenics slide down that slippery slope with such ease. But we all do it, contort ourselves into narratives, each of us…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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Redwood Grass
There was a mahogany dining table in the Lady’s mansion, carved from ancient trees and kept intact with even older magic. It was long, quite long, the kind to seat a gathering of twelve or more. The dining room that housed it was as grand as its table, every wall decorated with oil portraits of people—some prominent, some unknown, and all beautiful in some way. In their artistic design, in their color palette, or in their subject. There were three that stood out. The first was a portrait of Lady…-
27.1 K • Completed
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1.4 – mind; correlating
I halted at the front gate to Evelyn’s house as Raine stepped onto the garden path. When she realised I wasn’t following, she turned and raised her eyebrows at me. “You have got to be joking,” I said. “Evelyn lives here? Alone?” “Her family owns the house. It’s complicated. Come on, it’ll be fine, she won’t bite, not this time.” We’d left campus about twenty minutes ago, skirted the northern side of the student quarter, and crossed over into Sharrowford’s frayed eastern…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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2.10 – providence or atoms
If a team of expert psychologists drew up a list of the worst people from whom to seek stable emotional support, then after the obvious abusers and narcissists and sociopaths, I would rank pretty high on that list. Evelyn did not have anybody else in that study with her. She had me. I did what I could. My first instinct – were I capable of such courage – was to throw myself at her, hug her, tell her it was okay, whatever it was; Evelyn was my friend and she was in pain, and I felt it too. But I…-
95.8 K • Ongoing
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